TWO WEEKS LATER, JAMIE lie upon the ground in the cool grass near the loch, his eyes on the clear blue sky. He’d stripped himself of his plaid and had bundled it up under his head. He ran his fingers through Ada’s soft hair, while she lie on her back as well, her head on his stomach.
Truth be told, he’d thought to re-introduce his wife to some outdoor loving, but they’d been quickly joined by Henry who was eager to show his laird his prowess with the trident Torren had commissioned from the smithy while he’d been here. The lad stood now, ankle deep in the water, the trident poised and ready while his eyes scanned the water. His efforts might well prove fruitful if the eels would be so kind as to show themselves.
The Kincaids and the MacGregors were gone almost a week now, and sorry though he was to see them off, Jamie was happy to have his wife to himself again.
“Favorite sibling?” He asked his wife, knowing she had three sisters and one brother.
“Muriel,” she answered without hesitation. “She’s bossy and autocratic, but the most level-headed and friendly.”
“Favorite...season,” he suggested next.
“Summer, of course,” she answered quickly enough. “Do persons exist who like rainy springs or harsh winters?”
“Autumn is—” he began to defend, appreciative of the different colors presented in great bounty all around them even now.
“Colorful but cold,” Ada finished. “Ask me who my favorite person is.”
Jamie could well detect the smile in her voice. “Nae, lass. My intent is to learn more about my wife. I’m no looking for confirmation for things I already ken.”
She giggled aloud at this but challenged. “That’s some pretty huge self-importance, sir.”
“Did I misspeak, Ada Annabel?”
“You did not.” She turned onto her side so that she faced him. “My turn.”
“I’ve only just started,” he grumbled.
“I have better questions.”
“Mayhap your sister is no the only bossy one in the family.”
“Mayhap,” she allowed and wasted no time before asking, “Favorite city?”
“Glasgow, I suppose, though one of my favorite places is the Isle of Skye.”
“Favorite boy’s name?”
He shrugged. “I’m no sure about names. They’re just sounds, really.”
“You likely cannot see it,” she said, with a hint of playful exasperation, “but I am rolling my eyes at you. Do you have a favorite girl’s name?”
“I once ken a lass named Fawn,” Jamie told her evasively. “What does that mean? Her mam thought her a deer? I dinna ken it.”
Ada laughed again. “Very well, so you wouldn’t name your own daughter Fawn.”
“I would no. Unless I was planning to name her brother Buck, which I ken I would no.”
Jamie lifted his head, gauging Henry’s progress. The boy had barely moved. Jamie decided he would take him hunting, where his seeming ability to stand perfectly unmoving for long periods of time would serve him well.
“So what would you like to name this child, then?” Ada asked, being very still against him.
Taken aback, Jamie shifted his gaze to his wife. She smiled beautifully at him, but not without some nervousness. While he remained still, stricken actually, she sat up and faced him.
Jamie’s gaze widened and moved back and forth from her belly to her now smiling hazel eyes. “A babe?” He sat up.
Ada nodded, waiting for joy to spread across his face. It did not. Every inch of his face melted with wonder. Cautiously, he reached out a hand and touched her still flat belly.
“This is mine,” he said, so much reverence infused in his words, his tone. He splayed his hand out on her middle and bent to place a kiss just above her navel.
“’Tis ours, sir.”
Jamie stood and pulled her to her feet. He kissed her again, knowing he would never grow tired of this, his lips on hers. He tilted her head back and let his gaze linger over all the parts of her beloved face. He’d been right, he knew, thinking of all the times while he’d been gone he’d brought to mind the picture of her. Memory did no justice to the warm hazel of her eyes.
And no memory, no dream, nor any imaginings could ever compete with the reality of having her in his arms. “Have I ever told you, Ada Annabel MacKenna, how fine you are? How beloved you are?”
“You have,” she said, her smile a glorious thing. “But you should do so again, I think.”
“Aye, and it’s true, lass. You are everything to me.”
Ada closed her eyes. She pressed her head against him, and his arms slid around her.
This was all he needed.
Everything that was good and right and beautiful in his world, in this world, was right here in his arms. There was hope, then, that men like William Wallace did not die for nothing.
Something never before known to him before he’d met Ada surrounded him, something warm and welcomed, settling over him in the form of peace and joy and hope.
Epilogue
Summer 1307
Stonehaven, Scotland
ADA MACKENNA FOLLOWED Anice Kincaid and Tess MacGregor through the tunnel of Stonehaven, and down the slope of the majestic seaside keep. At the bottom of the hill, they angled toward the right, over a well-worn path that flanked the north side of the keep and onto the magnificent beach of the North Sea.
Henry came bounding around the turn in the path as well, waving a pink ribbon in his hand, and darting around and about the three ladies. A giggling squeal, half-annoyed, followed, as Bethany gave chase, nearly bumping into Anice.
“That’s my ribbon, Henry!” Bethany cried out. “Mother, tell him!” But neither she nor Henry gave Tess time to react to the dictate.
When the path opened and the beach was presented to them, Ada saw that everyone was here. She smiled, with something so much greater than fondness. They hadn’t all been together like this for more than a year. And, oh how she’d missed her friends.
Anice had put so much planning and time into this gathering, Ada was amazed at all she’d accomplished in the few short weeks since the letters had gone out, with the invite. The beach had been transformed into a great dining hall, trestle tables and benches and chairs lugged all the way down from Stonehaven’s hall. Fluted metal rods had been struck into the sand, spaced all around the gathering, filled with thin beeswax tapers, should these friends linger longer than the daylight. Summer’s bounty of flowers were gathered and dotted the sandy landscape, in various baskets and urns and crocks. Four huge metal barrels had been rolled down onto the beach, and were arranged as four corners, filled now with low burning fires.
Ada stopped, short of the entire group, letting Anice and Tess continue toward the party. She felt misty-eyed. She would blame it on this pregnancy; Anice had teased her only this morning that it must be a girl this time, if she were so emotional. But here was everyone she held dear, and wasn’t she just the most blessed person? Idly, she placed a hand over her rounded belly and looked around at all those assembled.
Tess hovered over her baby, Archie, snuggled in John Cardmore’s arms while dear Angus sat very close, playing with the baby’s feet. John Cardmore glanced up at the sun, giving it a mean glare, before rearranging the bairn’s bonnet to shield his so very new eyes.
Anice had collected her daughter from Torren, walking back and forth, bouncing little Katie gently and rhythmically to soothe the fussing babe. Torren rejoined Muriel at the table, pressing a kiss onto her cheek, while she smiled so lovingly up at him. Ada still could not believe her sister was here and married to Torren.
To the left of the table, near the cairn rocks, stood Jamie and Conall and Gregor, entrenched in earnest discussion. Gregor was holding his toddler son, Ian, who watched Henry and Bethany running around with a curious, interested frown. Jamie had his eye on his own son, his smile fond, watching as Callum happily allowed young William to use his thumbs as anchors as he trudged unsteadily through the sand.
> Jamie lifted his gaze to spy Ada taking it all in. His smile faded, replaced by concern, as he quickly strode to where Ada was.
“Is it the babe, lass? You look pained. I ken we should no have traveled now.”
Ada placed her hand lightly on his chest, which quieted him immediately. She settled her gaze onto his perfect blue eyes. “Tell me you love me.”
Without hesitation, he did. “Aye, I do. More than life,” he said. And then with that so dearly beloved boyish grin of his, he added, “And I believe that was me demonstrating said affection just this morning when we woke.”
Aye, it certainly was. “There, the day is now perfect. And complete.”
Jamie smiled and kissed her lips, far too hungrily for the company they kept now.
“You might return the favor, lass. Make my day perfect as well.”
She smiled against his lips, just as his words had been spoken against hers.
“I love you, husband, never less than yesterday, never more than tomorrow.”
“I am a lucky man.”
Jamie led Ada to the tables, sat her down on one of the benches, and stood close, his hands on her shoulders, kneading them ever so softly.
Ada listened to all the conversations around her, understanding it was peace and joy that curved her lips.
“Torren,” her sister was saying with a very tolerant grin, “Anice can tend her own child.”
“Aye, but Katie’s wanting her nap now I’m thinking. It’s about that time. I should take her back up to the keep.” He was facing away from the table, watching Anice walking along the beach with her babe.
“Gregor,” Muriel called, “he’s fussing again. Please let him hold Ian to calm him down.”
Torren turned and favored Muriel with a long-suffering grin while several chuckles followed. But Gregor brought the boy over and placed him in Torren’s arms and the gentle giant’s brows smoothed instantly. Ian was equally delighted to be held by Torren, smiling infectiously at the big man, knowing some manner of fun was in his immediate future.
Angus said, to no one in particular, “Aye, but aren’t they magical, the bairns?”
“It’s no magical, what this one just dumped into his nappy, I ken,” John Cardmore said, lifting baby Archie away from his chest while Angus chuckled and waved a hand in front of his nose.
Tess stood and collected her son, whisking the bairn away to the huge woven mat Anice had made, which served as a fine barrier between the sand and a person. Conall watched her, his own contentment evident in his adoring gaze.
At the far corner of the mat, well away from the gathered friends, six massive swords formed almost a perfect standing circle, their tips struck into the sand, their blades glinting in the sun.
She heard Will barking before she saw him, but turned and found Kinnon chasing him, laughing as the hound ran straight for the water. The hound had returned to Stonehaven, likely the only place he could call home, about six months ago. Anice had written to Ada, had said he was just there one morning, standing outside the gates, and that he was well and loved and would wait for her.
Henry and Bethany had ceased their play, the pink ribbon returned to the lass’s shiny blonde hair. They sat near Tess and the woven mat, attempting to make a replica of Stonehaven out of the sand. Ada considered the pair, and their awkward circumstance; half a decade possibly divided the pair, but as they were neither adults nor babies, they had only each other when these families gathered. Bethany screamed and then giggled when Will, the hound, crashed right through their creation. Henry huffed and threw sand at him, but immediately began to fix the sand walls of the castle.
Gregor stepped away from the group, went to Anice and took the babe from her arms. He rocked and hummed quite naturally, as if he’d done so a thousand times before. He and Anice continued to walk, her hand threaded through his arm. Her face was tipped up to him; she said something and he ducked his head down to her, smiling affectionately. Behind them, Kinnon and the hound followed, Kinnon scooping up seashells and tossing them back out to sea.
William, still walking with Callum, had spotted his mother. His eyes lit up while a cherubic smile broke across his face. Callum steered him in her direction. Ada turned on the bench and showed a mother’s happy smile as he neared. She scooped him up and hugged him tight, her darling Will, as Callum took a seat next to John and Torren and Angus, happily accepting a cup of ale from John.
Not long after, soldiers and servants of Stonehaven filed down from the keep, bearing a feast to set upon the tables, and more wine and ale to refill the jugs and cups. Before they partook of the grand buffet, Conall, sitting at the end of one table with his sleeping son in his arms, raised his glass in a toast.
“To freedom. May we no rest until we ken it completely.”
“Aye, aye,” came the agreeable chorus as cups were lifted.
Gregor added, raising his cup, “May we see peace in our lifetime,” and with a nod to present company, “outside the circle of our friends and family as well.”
Cups were tapped against the tabletops, accompanied by calls of harmony.
Anice chimed in, “To the brave and noble companions of the hero warrior William Wallace, may they continue to serve his memory well.”
“Aye, aye.”
“And to the lasses who love us,” offered Jamie, his eye on Ada. “God bless them all.”
“Aye, aye.” John Cardmore’s voice rose above the rest.
Angus tipped his cup, his smile soft in his wizened and weathered face. “Aye, you’re better men for the love of a fine lass. And there ain’t no finer than who’s gathered here.”
The End
Thank you for reading The Shadow of Her Smile. Gaining exposure as an independent author relies mostly on word-of-mouth, so if you have the time and inclination, please consider leaving a short review wherever you can. Thanks!
You can read Conall and Tess’s story in Book One,
The Touch of Her Hand
You’ll find Gregor and Anice’s tale in Book Two,
The Memory of Her Kiss
Watch for Torren and Muriel’s love to be written in
Mountains To Move
A Highlander Novella
Coming 2020
And Henry and Bethany’s tale will be available as
Stay With Me
A Highlander Novella
Coming 2020
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About the Author
Rebecca Ruger has been a lover of romance books since the seventh grade, when her mother introduced her to Victoria Holt, and her sister shared her Barbara Cartland collection. She is the founder and former editor of Glassing Magazine, the first ever print periodical all about sea glass and beach glass (which she sold in 2018, and is now called BeachCombing Magazine).
She is the mother of four (her greatest loves) and lives in Western New York with her perfectly supportive husband, Larry, and their just-ok dog, Brody.
The Touch of Her Hand is the first in the Highlander Heroes Series, to be followed by The Shadow of Her Smile, available October 2019, and The Memory of Her Kiss, available November 2019.
www.rebeccaruger.com
Thank you!
Read more at Rebecca Ruger’s site.
The Shadow 0f Her Smile (Highlander Heroes Book 3) Page 27