Page 75 of Highlander’s Hope

She looked at the courtyard thoughtfully. The men carried rocks up the towers and onto the northern wall. Now that they had time and peace to repair it, Marjorie wanted it done as soon as possible. They’d reclaimed the rubble from down under the wall to save money, and the clansmen who were normally engaged in sword training were doing the repairs.

“I didna for a long time. And then I met someone.” She nudged a small stone with the edge of her shoe and kicked it away. “I…fell in love with him, and despite the heartache of my experience, I started seeing the possibility of being happy. He did that for me.”

“Is he a good man?” Ian said. “Not that ye need my approval, but I will break his neck if he as much as looks at ye the wrong way.”

She sighed. “He is a good man. Colin opened up to him, too. He saved both our lives.”

“So where is he now, this good man?”

Marjorie hugged herself. “Far away.”

“And ye love him?”

“Aye.”

“And he loves ye?”

“I dinna ken. I thought he did.”

Ian ran his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “I’ve been a slave for many years, Marjorie, and I thought every day might be my last. I saw the Highlands and ye all in my dreams. I faced death daily. The one regret I had about my life was that I never kent true love. Never had a woman to care for, a bairn to live for. If ye met yer true love, lass, dinna throw it away. Or ye may regret it.”

Marjorie bit her lip, fighting back the tears. He was right. If she didn’t have Colin to think of, she might have tried to find a way to travel in time to Konnor, but she had her son to think about first. And nothing was more important than Colin and his well-being.

“Aye,” she said. “Unfortunately, that isna possible. He’s so far away, he may as well nae exist.” She grasped Ian’s hand and squeezed it. “But it dinna matter. Ye’re here. Ye’re alive and well. Do ye ken what do ye want to do now?”

“Aye. Find my father and live my life quietly in Dundail.”

“Ye chose the wrong time to try to live yer life quietly, cousin. The kingdom’s at war.”

“Dinna concern me. I wielded my sword for too long in Caliphate. I promised I wouldna kill another man in my life.”

Marjorie nodded. It was his decision, but she doubted he’d be able to keep that promise.

“All right, go rest. I’ll ask the servants to bring a bath and hot water for ye, as well as a warm meal. I’ll send men out on a hunt, and we’ll have a feast tonight in yer honor.”

“Thank ye, cousin.”

As Ian went into the tower and climbed the circular stairs, Marjorie watched him thoughtfully and wondered if there was a way for her to be with the love of her life and still keep her son’s best interests at heart. She wished Konnor would change his mind and come back to her. Mayhap he could bring his mother with him. She was sure they would be great friends.

But wishing wouldn’t make it so. She needed to get used to living a life with a hole in her heart. Nothing to do about that.

At least she and her son were free, unlike Ian had been these past years. Thank God, her dear cousin was back from the dead.

Chapter 29

Los Angeles, two weeks later

“Konnor, son, dinner’s ready!” his mom’s voice called from the kitchen.

Konnor screwed a bulb into the chandelier and stepped down from the chair.

“Coming,” he said as he walked towards the switch.

He flicked it and light filled the room. He sighed, looking around. That was the last repair his mom needed. He picked up a glass with whiskey and downed the remaining liquid. Unlike the medieval moonshine, it tasted full and smoky. Just perfect. And yet he’d give anything to drink the rough uisge, because that taste would forever be connected to Marjorie for him.

He switched off the soccer match on TV. While he’d been doing repairs around the house, his mind had wondered, thinking of how else he could make a soccer ball in medieval Scotland. If he’d had more time, he’d have taken wood shavings instead of hay, make pentagons out of leather and sew them together properly.

Yeah, right. He’d never get the chance to do that now, so what was the point of thinking of it?