Aaaand…. Happy Birthday to James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, born May 1st, 1721!
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[Excerpt from Book Ten (Untitled). Copyright © 2022 by Diana Gabaldon. All Rights Reserved.]
“Did your Mam ever tell ye of the dream I had? Soon after ye… went away.” He couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder, to be sure no one was in earshot.
“No.” She was looking at him with deep interest, a small line between her brows, and he couldn’t help smiling at her. “Was it a funny dream?” she asked.
“Och, no. I was only smiling because ye looked so much like Claire, there. When she’s trying to puzzle out what’s the matter with someone, I mean.”
She didn’t laugh, but the transitory dimple that sometimes appeared in her right cheek flashed for an instant.
“Nobody ever says I look like Mama,” she said. “They carry on all the time about how much like you I look.”
“Oh, ye look like your mother often,” he assured her. “It’s just that it’s no a matter of hair or eyes or how tall ye are. It’s the look on your face when ye touch Jem or Mandy—or when ye’re talkin’ with Roger Mac in the evening on the porch, and the light of the moon in your eyes.”
His own voice had grown soft and husky, and he looked down at the ground, the plastering of layer upon layer of dead leaves, like dying stars beneath his boots.
“Ye look like your mother in love, is all I mean. Exactly like her.”
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Thanks to The Old Farmer’s Almanac, for this photo of the “Full Flower Moon, May 2022.”
This excerpt was also posted on Sunday, May 1, 2022, on my official Facebook page.