Diana Gabaldon · @Writer_DG
28th May 2013 from TwitLonger
#DailyLines #MOBY #WRITTENInMYOwnHEARTSBlood #Book8 #menofblood #whyyesIdoworkwhiletraveling #whenIcan
Jamie lifted a thick brow, glistening with droplets of sweat.
“Well, I wasna planning to join in, but I said they might use my tent and welcome. Why, are ye going yourself?”
“Thought I might,” Ian said. “I was invited, after all.”
“Were ye?” Jamie looked interested. “D’ye think they mean to convert ye?”
“I dinna think that’s how Quakers work,” Ian said, a little ruefully. “And good luck to them if they do. I think the power o’ prayer must have limits.”
That made his uncle snort with amusement, but he shook his head.
“Never think it, laddie,” he advised. “If wee Rachel sets her mind to it, she’ll have your sword beaten into a ploughshare before ye can say Peter Piper picked a peck o’ pickled peppers. Twice,” he added. “Or maybe three times.”
Ian made a dissentient noise through his nose.
“Aye, and if I were to try it, who would there be to protect the lot of ‘em? Rachel and her brother and Dottie, I mean. Ye ken that, don’t ye? That they can only be what they are because you and I are what we are?”
Jamie leaned back a little, purse-lipped, then gave him the ghost of a wry smile.
“I ken that fine. And do does Denzell Hunter; it’s why he’s here, though it’s cost him his home and his meeting. But mind, they’re worth protecting—beyond you bein’ in love wi’ Rachel, I mean.”
“Mmphm.” He wasn’t in the mood to discuss philosophy, and he doubted his uncle was, either. The light was in that long hour before darkfall, when the things of the forest pause and draw breath, slowing for the night. It was a good time to hunt, because the trees slowed first, so you saw the animals still moving among them.
Uncle Jamie kent that. He sat relaxed, nothing moving save his eyes. Ian saw his gaze flick up, and turned his own head to see. Sure enough, a squirrel clung to the trunk of a sycamore, ten feet away. He’d not have seen it, had he not caught the last flick of its tail as it stilled there. He met Jamie’s eyes, and they both smiled and sat silent for awhile, listening to the racket of the camp, even this beginning to mute itself.