“But your … heart is racing.” Ciara swallowed the pain clogging her throat, pushing past her pain, to embrace the concern for Roarke.
I want my passing to count for something, my love.
It had. Roarke Fraser Devlin lived because Derek’s heart now beat for him. Derek died. Nothing could change that. She could resent Roarke was alive while Derek’s life ended that night seven years ago. Silly skewed logic. Derek died because Fate decreed his time had come. It was as simple as that.
It wasn’t Roarke’s fault. He didn’t take something away from Derek. In his passing, he’d given her one last gift—he’d saved this beautiful man’s life.
She tried to smile through the tears, all of it hurting like a knife in her chest.
As a tear trickled down his cheek, Roarke returned her smile. “You’re upsetting me on two levels. I react to your physical stimuli to my male system, and I’m concerned about how you are taking the news that a part of Derek lives within me. Why I stayed away from you these past months since I came to Kentucky. I’m worried, yes. The racing seems exaggerated to you because this heart beats faster for me than it did for him. During the operation, they had to cut the nerves to the heart, so the transplant beats faster— not sure why, it just does—about 100 to 110 beats per minute.”
“But you are healed? You’re not in any danger?”
“The doctors call me their miracle patient. My body has accepted his heart better than any transplant they have ever seen. The tissue match was so perfect. I was healthy up to the virus attacking. I take very good care of the gift given me. My cardiologist said he feared without the transplant I wouldn’t have lived through the night. I would’ve died—seven years ago this night. Derek Adams gave me a second chance. I take all my meds to see my body continues to accept his heart. I watch my diet, take lots of vitamins and exercise daily. Thousands of transplants are done every year. Many people do very well with them. I’ve lived seven years with it. I just had my yearly check up last week. My doctor is very pleased how I’m doing. A lot of the statistics on longevity is misleading. Some continue with bad habits that endangered their own heart in the first place. They continue to drink and smoke, eat foods heavy with fat, don’t take vitamins. They abuse the second chance they were given. Also, most were in very bad health for years before the transplant. I was a very healthy male before the virus hit.” He paused, the tone of his words lowered, “I’m a very healthy male, Ciara mo anam cara.”
She braced herself against hearing the Gaelic. Mo anam cara. My soulmate. “How? How can you know these things? You didn’t see Sinnjinn’s name on his collar. Derek called me that—Ciara mo anam cara. But you know that. You speak his words—”
“I told you—my heart speaks to me.”
“I don’t understand.” she whispered, in disbelief, in a shard of hope.
He spun away, then dragged his hands through his hair nearly pulling at it. Stopping, he closed his eyes and breathed slowly, inhaling and exhaling to almost a count of ten—lowering his heartbeat, she realized.
Lightning cracked overhead, causing the lights to flicker. In some ways she could almost believe Roarke summoned the bolts. So easily she could see him as a warlock drawing down nature’s power, envision him walking across the darkened land with jagged streaks of lights cracking from his fingertips. She sighed at her imagination. Well, it was no more bizarre than this man knowing Derek’s thoughts because of the heart beating in his chest.
“How? I don’t know. It started when I awakened after surgery. I was heavily sedated, tied up to every monitor imaginable. At first, I had trouble recalling who I was. Then as images came to me, I expected you to be there holding my hand. You were so clear in my mind. Later, I asked where you were and the nurses seemed puzzled, had no idea who Ciara was.
“As I healed, pieces of my life came back. Still, I have big blanks of the past that’s gone, like my memory was wiped clean. The doctors explained that there’s a time when the heart is stopped, as the old one was removed and the new one took over. It causes a memory loss. Memory loss I could accept; there wasn’t anything special in my life. I was a workaholic. The job was everything. It was all the other…”
“Other?”
“Memories gained. They dismissed me, chalked up what I saw in my mind as dreams. I stopped trying to tell them after awhile because they looked at me strangely. They said once I was on my feet and back to my life these things would fade.” He shook his head. “They didn’t. They increased. There was no going back to my life. I stopped caring about my business. I sold it. Colchester was no longer home. I didn’t belong there anymore. I went to Scotland. It called to me. I even bought a place there. Only…” His eyes roved over her, hungry. “Only a part of me was missing. I came back to the States, wandering lost, not knowing where I needed to start to put my life together again. One day walking aimlessly, I stopped before an art gallery and saw the painting of The Palisades … knew as I stared into it, I had to come here, the answer was at the end of that trail. Same as I knew when I saw the land across the river.”
“Knew what?”
“Knew I had lived here before. As I began building the house, I hired a private detective. They don’t like to give out donor information. Fearful of a lot of mental problems on both sides. Even so, it wasn’t hard for him to piece the puzzle together. Then I had to accept I had not only Derek’s heart, but his thoughts.”
He moved to the back door, looking out in the night as thunder shook the whole house to the foundation. With the last rumble, the lights snapped out.
“If you knew about Derek … about me … why did you wait?” She moved to relight the candle on the oak table.
As its glow filled the room, she saw him lift his hand to the glass of the door, very slowly placing his fingertips to his ghostly reflection. “I’ve watched you, kept my distance. It’s my problem, I wasn’t sure I had the right to drag you into it. If someone came up to you with a story of having not only Derek’s heart, but his memories, would you not think him a lunatic? I cannot explain, Ciara. I just know things. The Egyptians used to remove all the organs from a body before they mummified it. But not the heart. The heart was left with the body because they believed that was where the soul lived, where your memories were housed.”
Ciara walked to him, seeing his pale eyes reflected in the glass of the door, where his hand was pressed to the pane. She understood the gesture. He touched the reflection, the ghost in the glass—Derek.
Those haunting eyes tracked her, using the panes like a mirror. He was so still as if afraid of her reaction to all he’d told her. Afraid she would hate him. Maybe afraid she’d accept him because of his connection to Derek.
The pain, the depression was suddenly released within her. She loved Derek, always would. Would always feel pain at his tragic death, his life being cut short. But Roarke was right. Derek would be angry that she’d given up on life. He would never want that from her.
Maybe in some bizarre way this was her Blue Moon wish answered. Derek’s final gift to her—he gave her Roarke.
The heaviness in her heart that lived there for the last seven years was released, left her just like a fist opening and releasing its hold. Peace flowed through her, an acceptance that wishes did come true, that there was magic in the world, a reason to go on.
She lifted her hand to stroke his jaw, but pulled back.
“Don’t touch me casually, Ciara.” The warning was soft, almost a whisper.
She managed a smile. “Casual? I don’t think I could touch you casually. I have been inundated by images of your hands caressing me—”
“My hands?” The challenge was there.
“Yes, your hands.” Very carefully, she placed her left hand over the back of his where his fingertips were pressed to the glass, touching him as he touched the ghost in the glass. “Seven years ago I lost Derek. He was a very special man and I loved him. He used to tell me he signed his organ donor card so his passing would count, that anot
her could live. He gifted you with life that night. I know he would have liked that. Now I think he is gifting me with a miracle, giving me life again.”
“I’m not Derek, Ciara.”
She nodded. “I know. You are Roarke Fraser Devlin.”
“A part of him lives in me. I accept that. Can you?”
“Yes, I think I can.” There was a strange tranquility in her, an inevitability. Fate. Of things wished for on a Blue Moon that were granted.
Lightning tore jaggedly through the night, punching into a large oak tree in the back yard, sending sparks flying and a huge limb crashing to the earth. Ciara jumped in fright. Roarke caught her. Like a terrified child, she clung to him, wrapping her arms about his ribcage and holding him tight. Her head nestled in the curve of his neck, relishing the shelter of his embrace. He was so warm, so alive. His heart thudded strong, causing hers to match its cadence. His heat poured into her blood.
It felt like coming home.
“Oh, Ciara, lass, I’ve watched you for so long … burned to come to you.” He squeezed her tightly to his chest.
Snuffing her stuffed nose, she let tears fall. “Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t think it was fair to you … fair to me. I had just about made up my mind to leave Kentucky. I was going for one last drive when I knew I had to take Old Post Road. I felt an urgency pushing, compelling me. I followed it.” He paused, his mind obviously casting around to explain. “I had to go out there … to the cemetery. As I started those series of curves I felt oddly like a watcher in my own body, as if there was another presence inside of me.”
“How did you get off the road?”
“The closer I got to that point, the less I felt like me. I’m not one to believe in ghosts, but I think I relived Derek’s last moments … the accident was real in my mind, the car crashing in the back of mine slamming me headlong into the cement truck. Only at the last instant did I seem to awaken and cut the wheel, spinning off the road.”
He was silent for a moment. The only sounds were the rain lashing at the door and the pounding of his heart.
“I guess you think I am crazy … sometimes I do.”
Ciara shook her head. “No, I believe you. There are things in life that often defy the normal boundaries of our understanding.” She placed her hand on the heart that now beat for him. “Miracles do happen.”
“His last thoughts were of you, Ciara. How he loved you, sorry he’d been driving too fast, was careless with something precious … his life, your love. His last wish was he wanted you to be happy.”
I want my passing to count for something, my love.
Ciara raised on her toes and brushed her lips against his cool ones. They were soft. He tasted of the wine they’d shared. He tasted of Roarke.
She yearned for more. As she leaned into him, pressing her body to his, she felt his muscles tense.
“Don’t play with fire, Ciara. Don’t give me the promise of something you cannot keep.”
She sighed and exhaled deeply. “I’ve been cold for too long. I could use a little fire in my life.” Reaching up she used her thumb to trace the sensual mouth, the fullness of the lower lip.
Suddenly, Roarke lifted her into his arms—his very strong arms—and cradled her with ease against his chest. His forehead dropped to hers as he started to kiss her.
Her shaking hand pressed to his mouth. “I don’t mean to…”
“What, Ciara?”
“Should you—”
“Ciara, I’m more than capable of making love to you. Don’t make an invalid of me.”
She laughed softly, “No, I was worried about you lifting me.”
He leaned his face against hers. “I can lift you. I can make love to you. Right now, I just want to hold you through the night and keep you warm. Just that. Anything else is too soon.”
Ciara cuddled against the curve of his strong neck as he carried her into the living room and then down the darkened hall to her bedroom. She loved the scent of his skin, better than any expensive cologne. It was pure Roarke. Intoxicating.
Carefully placing her on the soft bed, he sat and slid off his shirt. Rolling on his hips, he snagged the duvet and pulled it over them. Roarke shifted, curling almost protectively against her.
“Close your eyes and rest, Ciara mo anam cara. We have plenty of tomorrows to come.”
* * * *
Filtered sunlight touched her face. Opening her eyes, she was covered with the fluffy duvet. She smiled and stretched. Pausing, she reflected this was the first time since … since Derek died she’d awakened and felt like smiling.
Roarke.
He’d held her all night, his arms cradling her tightly. Later, she’d drowsily shifted and found herself spooned against his chest. His heart thudded strongly against her back. She’d slept so peaceful.
Maybe Blue Moons did grant wishes.
Suddenly, the scary sense that it’d been nothing but a Blue Moon dream filled her with panic. Her eyes searched around for some sign that Roarke had been real, he’d been with her all through the night, kept the coldness at bay. Frightened, she rushed down the hall and into the living room. Her rising fear only slowed as she saw the black leather case sitting on the kitchen counter. Relieved, she put a hand to her heart until the pounding stilled.
Finally making her way to the front door, she opened it.
Sinnjinn sat in the middle of the porch swing, his purrs causing it to rock. She could swear the cat was smiling.
Roarke stood, his bare back to her. His beautiful back. His left arm propped high against the column, he stared out into the mist hovering over the river, lost in thought.
Was he regretting things said under the Blue Moon? Had the bright light of day brought back simple realities? Realities he lived because of Derek. Did he doubt her?
Her stomach fluttered with butterflies of nervousness. She took a step backward in disappointment, in fear. Only, shafts of morning sun poked through the morning fog and the sun reflected off the glass across the river. Roarke’s home.
She bounced two steps to him, wrapping her arms around his chest and hugging him.
“Morning, Roarke Fraser Devlin.”
Turning in her embrace, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to his chest.
“Morning, Ciara mo anam cara.” He leaned to brush his lips across hers. Pulling back, his green eyes searched her face. “I cannot promise forever.”
“Neither could Derek.” Ciara nipped his chin. “Me and Sinnjinn will settle for today, and tomorrow … and next week … and next month … then, we will worry about tomorrows.”
* * * *
We invite you to enjoy DeborahAnne’s three stories in
NO LAW AGAINST LOVE
Bad Cat, Getting It in the End,
and Double, Double, Toil and Trouble
And…
Coming this October,
DeborahAnne’s solo anthology,
CAT O’ NINE TALES
Visit DeborahAnne at her website,
www.deborahmacgillivray.co.uk
You’ve read the ‘magic’, now we invite you to join us for the ‘enchantment.’
We invite you to read
BLUE MOON ENCHANTMENT
Also Available from Highland Press
Highland Wishes
No Law Against Love
Blue Moon Enchantment
Rebel Heart
Christmas Wishes
Holiday in the Heart
In Sunshine or In Shadow
Almost Taken
The Sense of Honor
Into the Woods
Pretend I’m Yours
Coming:
Millennium Phrase Book
The Crystal Heart
Faery Special Romances
Recipe for Love
No Law Against Love 2
Eyes of Love
Mail Order Brides
Second Time Around
The Way to a Man’s Heart
Dance en L
’Aire
Enraptured
The Amethyst Crown
The Barefoot Queen
Cat O’Nine Tales
Rabbitini
The Little Hermit
Almost Guilty
Cover design by Deborah MacGillivray
Copyright 2006
Visit www.highlandpress.org for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
Blue Moon Magic Page 31