Scottish Stones

Scotland 1746

Damian McKenzie stood helplessly by the hearth his broad shoulders hunched as he listened to his new wife's sobs. "We haven't been married a week and already ye seek to make me a widow?"

He turned his blue eyes to her green ones, bright with tears. "Quit yer greetin love, I'll be right as rain. Bonny Prince Charlie needs a bit o help with the Hanovarians and I'll be back in a month with a new silk dress for ye from London."

She shook her head in despair. "You're a blacksmith not a soldier, if ye leave with the army ye'll not return to me."

"Aye I'll come back." He said gruffly taking up his pack and bedroll he moved to stand in the doorway. He had to duck  to keep from knocking his head on the frame. He turned back to her, his large frame silhouetted in the doorway.
"I know ye dont care for me Mary, I wed ye for me brother since he left ye with child an not his name. But I care for ye and I vow I'll come back to this very doorstep. Just so, beneath the bed is a box full of papers and a bit of coin. If things go poorly..." He took a deep breath and shook his dark head sadly. "I want you to leave Scotland, go to France and be a seamstress, but get ye and the child to safety I beg ye."

With that he gently shut the oak door and trudged down the road to Culloden. His blacksmiths hammer and a dirk his only weapon. He would fall in the last Highland charge, his giant frame a target for more than ten English bullets.

Mary stared at the door for a long moment, wishing Damian would come back to her. Come back to their tiny village and their quaint stone house. "I curse ye Damain Mackenzie, if ye dinna return to me, I pray ye find yer true love in this life or the next." She collapsed by the hearth and cried herself to sleep.

271 years later...

Abigail Donivan grunted in frustration as she clumsily hefted another stone from the crumbling cottage. She was determined to make the tiny village a premier tourist destination, even if it killed her. She hadn't known about her Scottish roots until a long lost great aunt had passed away leaving her the last surviving Donivan and the new owner of the wild highland plot of land. She had quickly quit yer job, cashed out her 401k and flew across the world... for a pile of rocks. But they were  beautiful a beautiful pile of rocks. She loved Scotland and already felt like home, she only wished she had a bit of help.

She let out a squeak of surprise when she came out of the rotted oak door and nearly collided with a very large, very masculine, very Jamie Frazier lookalike of a man.

"Easy there lass!" A startled Damian said taking the boulder from her shaking hands...