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"To dig it up?"
"No, I doubt that will be necessary."
We drive to the cemetery just outside Loch Fairbairn, where MacTaggarts had been laid to rest for hundreds of years, until the graveyard got filled up. Errol tells me that for the past several decades, MacTaggarts have been buried in a new cemetery on the opposite side of town. But we've come here to see the medieval grave of Errol's ancestor.
The gravestone is simple: "Kieran Aulay MacTaggart. Died 1598."
No birthdate. Only his death was recorded.
Errol kneels in front of the headstone and carefully holds the last blank page of the diary up to the cold stone. He twists his mouth into a frustrated slant. "Can your mobile work as a torch too?"
"If you mean a flashlight, yes. It has that feature."
"Get out your mobile and shine the light on the headstone, where I'm holding the diary."
I get out my phone and kneel beside Errol to shine the flashlight on the headstone. As he slowly moves the diary page down, I keep the flashlight in alignment with the paper. At first, I don't see anything. But then Errol stops moving the page and points at something.
"See this?" he says.
"Looks like writing, but I can't read it."
"Because it's in Gaelic. The markings on the paper and the ones on the headstone, when combined, form words." Errol runs his finger along the line of text as he translates. "Death shall not destroy my spirit. I live on. We live on. Do not grieve for that which is not lost. Seek us out when the time has come."
"What does that mean? 'Seek us out when the time has come'?
"Ahmno an expert on medieval Gaelic. We should consult someone who is to get a reliable translation. Give me your mobile so I can take pictures of the message."
I hand him my phone and hold up the diary while he snaps pictures of Kieran's message. "We live on" must refer to Kieran and his aunts, as well as his wife and daughter. How did Kieran survive his execution? Did the witchfinder lie and say Kieran was executed when he really wasn't? I thought witches were publicly murdered, but I don't know enough about medieval witch trials to say for sure.
The next day, we contact an expert on medieval Scots Gaelic, who confirms Errol read the message correctly. But knowing it's genuine only deepens the mystery.
We have more important things to worry about, though. Things in the present. The news of the discovery of the Grand Canyon treasure has finally hit the world media. Everyone knows that Christian Frisk and his men illegally searched for ancient artifacts on federal land, and they've been charged with the appropriate felonies.
To make sure my father gets his due, we contacted a reporter in America, one who is an old friend of my dad's and who works for a major newspaper. That reporter wrote an article about the discovery that included two paragraphs about my father's longtime quest for the hoard.
Maybe the whole world won't know about that. But at least my dad will get some of the credit he deserves. He assures us that he doesn't care about that. The only thing he wants right now is for me and Errol to get married.
It's way too soon for that. Isn't it? But if Errol proposed to me today, I think I'd say yes.
A month after we returned to Scotland, Errol and I both realize we haven't heard from Munro. No one has. Errol assures me that his cousin likes to be in the woods, away from people, but I still worry about him. He seems lonely, though I doubt Munro would ever admit to that.
"Donnae worry about the Wild Man," Errol says. "He'll come round eventually and rejoin the family. Besides, I doubt he's completely alone. Munro never has trouble finding female companionship."
"But maybe we should—"
"Hush, love." Errol drops to one knee. We're in the backyard of our house with the sun shining down on us. Errol pulls out a ring box and flips it open. "I know we haven't been together for very long, but I'm certain of what I feel for you. I love you, Ashley. Want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will ye marry me,mo chridhe?"
"Yes, I will. If you tell me what that word means."
"It's Gaelic for 'my heart.' And that's what you are."
He slips the ring onto my finger, then picks me up and spins us around. I start whooping. He starts whooping. The way he keeps spinning might make me nauseous soon, but I don't care. Exhilaration rushes through me, warm and tingly, stealing my breath away. When he finally sets me down, we kiss. Then we wind up on the ground, struggling to undress each other. By the time we're naked, and Errol is thrusting into me, I've forgotten the rest of the world exists.
Afterward, we go to his mom's house to share the news. My dad is there too, and so is Ailpean. Our announcement makes everyone's day. And yes, there will be a party for us at Dùndubhan. Errol says it's inevitable that the whole family will get involved and turn a simple ceilidh into a giant bash.
Lying in bed with Errol that night, I know two things for certain. We will live happily ever after, and many more adventures await us.
But I can't help wondering about Kieran's message.
