A roar erupted in the bar, and all eyes went to the TV screen. The Patriots had scored a touchdown, and soon everyone's attention was back on the game.
James loves Maggie Haley thought, warm inside at the thought of it. Jimmy was a good guy, he deserved every happiness. Her eyes were on the screen, but her mind began to drift.
Another, much older, inscription popped into her head. Just who would dedicate a dagger to their sweetheart? “For JG, with love from Ma-”
J. Not a lot of J names in Scotland. Haley wracked her brain. She decided it was safe to assume the recipient had been a man. Maybe John. Though, Scotland in the seventeenth century, the Gaelic version Iain more likely would have been used.
No, she thought, he was in all likelihood another James, or Jamie.
But Ma would be harder to pin down. You'd have Mairi, Malveen, Margaret, Marsali…
“James loves Maggie!”
“Hey Mag!” she heard Gerry tease. “Give your new brother some sugar.”
“Mag.”
“ With love from-”
“Magda?” Haley exclaimed. The bar had fallen momentarily silent and everyone turned to her, but for Gerry, who was scanning the bar for whomever this new girl might be that his sister was greeting.
“Sorry. Just thinking.” Haley hid her face in her glass as she took a big sip.
“You need to focus, ” Colin scolded her.
“You need to will them to win, Haley.” Conor nodded somberly in agreement.
JG, she thought. James Graham's wife was named Magdalen.
But the dagger was dated 1675. Graham had been hanged at least twenty years before that.
She shook her head. She was grasping at straws.
JG could be any one of thousands of men.
But how many of those would have the resources to buy such an extravagant weapon?
“Hey Doc.” Gerry snapped his fingers in front of her. “Earth to Haley.”
“I tell you, she needs to focus.” Colin gravely shook his head.
“Huh?” Haley looked at them blankly. “Oh, yeah, yeah.” Shifting, she stared blindly at the flat screen hanging in the corner.
Maybe the piece was misdated.
But it was a flintlock pistol. Anything prior to 1650 would probably have used a wheel lock mechanism.
“I have to go.” Haley stood suddenly, screeching her chair along the sticky barroom floor. She was going to drive herself crazy. There was no way on earth that dagger had belonged to the famous war hero, hanged in Edinburgh in the middle of the seventeenth century. She needed to buff the rest of the thing off; she'd see it was Margaret or Marjory or Martha who'd given the strange gift, and then she could stop spinning out. She swore to herself she'd once and for all focus on her dissertation. Just as soon as she figured out this one little mystery.
Her pronouncement was immediately met with grumbling and dire predictions.
Danny stared at her in disbelief. “It's bad mojo to leave before halftime.”
“You have only yourself to blame if they lose,” Colin said.
“Aren't you going to celebrate with us?” Jimmy attempted, in the most masterful tack of all.
“No, really, guys. I need to chase something down.”