Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“It’s just the way humans are wired, doll.”
She nods. “Aye.”
We got the news of her mum’s illnessm recently. She’d been found on the steps of the Cathedral, alive but doing poorly, and was now recovering in the hospital. Seemed she hit her head, and we were advised she might not remember us.
She remembered Cairstina, and the two made their peace. Her mum never knew what happened to Dougal. Cairstina doesn’t either. But I have evidence that his body’s with the Aitkens’ casualty, thanks to a favor from Tate. He won’t ever hurt her again.
She holds my hand. “Some people wish for riches. Others, for fame. But I have everything I need here, with you.”
I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her palm, then wrap her fingers around the kiss. “And this is for you,” I tell her. “You can hold it in your palm for whenever you need it.” I smile at her. “Aye, lass. You complete me, as well.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” she says teasingly, and the next moment I’ve got her pinned to the couch as I’m tickling her and she’s giggling. We collapse in a heap beside each other. I drag her to my chest and let her nestle in. I kiss the top of her head. Relishing this. Savoring her.
“You’re like a fine wine,” I tell her, as I run my fingers through her soft, silky hair. “I like to relish the taste.”
She pushes herself up and kisses me, when a knock comes at the door. She looks at me in surprise. No one ever comes to knock at the door. I know why, though.
“How odd,” I say, knowing exactly who it is. “Let me check on that.”
I get up and open the door, to find Bailey standing on the other side.
“Bailey?” she asks. Islan brought him, then left as I instructed.
Bailey comes trotting in. The light from the table lamp gleams on the shining ring around his neck. Cairstina watches, bemused, as Bailey runs to her and leaps up onto her lap.
“What is—ohhh.”
She reaches for the red ribbon tied ‘round Bailey’s neck, her eyes growing misty. “Leith.”
I stand beside her, my hands shoved into my pockets. “I’m not a romantic guy,” I say sheepishly, but she shakes her head.
“You’re the most romantic bloke that ever lived.” She takes the ring off the ribbon and places it in the palm of her hand. She whispers, “For me?”
I drop to my knees beside the couch. “Couldn’t do this in front of the others. You’re far too private, Cairstina, and so am I. But aye, that’s for you.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Will you have me? Will you be my bride?”
She nods, grinning, and whispers an emphatic, “yes,” that makes my heart soar.
I lean in and kiss her, holding her, as I whisper in her ear. “Waiting all that time to hear you speak was worth it, if only to hear you say that one word. ‘Yes.’”
As the wind whips heartily outside the window, it’s warm and safe inside. And that’s where it will stay. The storm doesn’t rage within me anymore, not like it used to. I gave her family, and safety, and a place to live. And this woman? She’s taught me to appreciate everything I already had. She’s taught me how to live.
* * *
Epilogue
Cairstina
Six months later
It doesn’t come as a surprise to me that Leith wants to be married non-traditionally. He takes me and Tate to the Cathedral one day, and when we return, I’ve got his ring on my finger and his last name.
“Och, son, I’d have loved to celebrate heartily,” his mum says, but he only smiles and nods.
“Mum, that’s precisely why they did it the way they did,” Islan says with a pointed look. I smile at her. I love that she understands. I love Leith with all my heart, but the gift of two sisters is something I never expected.
She’s right. The idea of a big to-do makes my stomach swirl into knots. I’d much rather celebrate in private… and we do.
Being married to Leith is nothing like I ever imagined marriage to be like, and I do think I’ve got quite the imagination. In my mind, if I were lucky I’d end up with a good bloke, a good looker. We’d live in a decent house, and have a few children, perhaps a cat, or a little farm somewhere.
But this… this is nothing like that at all. He does his work, and I give him space to. I don’t ask questions, and he only gives me the answers he thinks I need. We live in the most beautiful place I could imagine, the ethereal mountains. I wake in the morning with the smoky clouds over the peaks. We sit in silence with steaming mugs of tea, enjoying the quiet. We forged our relationship on very few words, and as the months go by we find we don’t always need words to communicate. A clasp of a hand, a tender kiss, a knowing look. We understand each other, perhaps the way few ever really would.