by Vines, Jolie
“Since yesterday. They kept ye sedated so they could monitor your heart. But your doctor said you’ll make a full recovery. Do ye remember what happened?”
I examined my memories, wading through my abject fear at seeing that fucker Jude point a gun at the woman I loved. “I do. Is he dead?”
“He is. Neck broken by the fall.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
Caitriona’s lips curled in a half smile. “I feel the same. The police have been by. I gave my statement already. Jude’s uncle left a message, too, sort of apologising, so they must have gone to him. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t want to waste a second thinking about him.”
She flicked her gaze over me, emotion so close to the surface.
“God, Lochie,” Caitriona said. “I thought I’d lost ye. When I saw ye fall…”
She sobbed and wiped away another errant tear.
Marry me, I wanted to say.
A hasty thought. If I was going to propose, it would be on one knee, naw flat on my back. I had no clue if my woman even wanted marriage, but I’d find out, and if she’d have me, I’d make her mine forever.
“I’ll never leave ye. Nothing can make me. I love ye.” I drew her in for a kiss. “Entirely, and forever.”
The entrance of a doctor broke us apart, and after tests and prodding, I heard the story of my surgery in more detail than I liked. They’d fixed my heart up good enough for Caitriona. That’s all I cared about.
The doc left, encouraging me to sleep, but I didn’t need that.
I only needed to hold my woman and know that she was well.
Within an hour, the door swung open, and a nurse entered. “Your daughter is here, Mr MacNeill. I wanted to check if ye were awake for her.”
“Aye, please, bring her in.”
With Scarlet and Ally behind her, Isla swung into the room like a whirlwind and flung herself at me. My stitches pulled, and something ached, but I held my daughter close.
“Are ye okay?” she asked.
“I am now you’re here.” I held her hard and greeted Caitriona’s parents.
“Cait said you’re a hero,” Isla breathed.
I raised a hand to point at the man who appeared in the doorway.
“Nah, that’s this young man.”
Max leaned on the frame, his face scratched and his arm in a new cast.
“What the f— I mean what the hell,” I corrected myself, mindful of Isla, “was that about with ye hanging off the cliff? Ye could’ve died.”
“And risked the wrath of Cait for letting go of ye?” His typical teasing smile flickered. “Easy decision to make. I have to say, if ye didn’t weigh twice what I do, that would’ve gone a lot easier.”
I snorted, and he grinned bigger, his da shaking his head.
A rap came at the door, and my nurse reappeared. She studied the machines monitoring my heart and other vitals, and gave us all a grin. “It’s good to see your family gathered around you.”
My family.
They were. The McRaes, and Caitriona, had become my family. I’d found a home with them, and made a space for myself and Isla in their world. I looked between their smiling faces, Isla escorted outside by Scarlet, as comfortable with her as if she were already her grandma. Caitriona grabbing a pen to write on Max’s new cast.
Aye, my family.
I’d do anything it took to keep it.
* * *
After a few days of good behaviour, on Christmas Day, I was allowed home. Caitriona and Isla collected me, and we drove home together.
At the door to my place, Isla skipped inside, and I stalled my woman at the door.
“Stay with us,” I asked.
Or maybe ordered.
I wanted her to live with us, always, but for now, we’d start slow.
She blinked at me then swiftly nodded. “Okay.”
That decided that.
It was a few days before I was back on my feet properly, and Caitriona’s parents took Isla for Christmas dinner and to a party, but my strength returned fast. I planned to meet the team, to show my face and give thanks.
We had a command centre to rebuild. A debrief over the hoaxes and how it had all panned out.
One person hadn’t answered my calls.
“I cannae get hold of Cameron,” I explained to Caitriona.
Sitting at the dining table, in the bright winter sunlight, she chewed her lip. “He’s still in hospital. He didn’t want to worry ye so asked me not to say.”
Still? But it had been almost a week. Max had been to see me every day. There had been a flurry of doctors and visits. How had I missed the lack of contact from my right-hand man?
“Why?”
She swallowed. “Further surgeries. The gunshot blast caused more damage than first thought.”
“Will he be okay?”
“Eventually, they hope.”
Her phone rang, and she frowned at the screen then took the phone into our bedroom to answer it.
I dialled Wasp. “I only just heard about Cameron. How is he? Give me the latest.”
Wasp got to the point. “He’s going to be out of action for a while. He cannae use his arm until his shoulder heals.”
“He must be going mad. I tried calling him.”
Wasp sighed. “My son isnae one to sit still. He’s forced to now, and will be so for some time.”
I muttered how sorry I was for him, and how I wanted to visit soon, when he allowed me. We said goodbye, and I worried my nail on the edge of the sofa.
Being forced to lie in bed for a few days had given me a fresh perspective. Like Cameron, I rarely sat still long enough to reflect on life. I worked better on instinct and going with my gut.
If the lad had a change of career coming up, a possibility if the damage to his arm was extensive, I’d find something for him that kept him active.
Then there were my problems. With the hospital recording me by my given name, rather than my assumed one, I was back on the map for being found, should someone be hunting me.
The jury was still out on Liv’s family.
I didn’t trust any of them. I couldn’t let them near Isla. But I wasn’t sure now that they’d pursued us.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Blair: Home in a week. I’ll visit.
My sister was coming home? And…she’d messaged my number?
My phone buzzed again.
Blair: Merry belated Christmas. I’ll bring a gift for my niece.
I sent back a reply then raised my gaze to Caitriona. She joined me on the sofa.
“My sister messaged me. Until now, we’ve only been in contact on an untraceable phone.”
“She called a phone left in your truck. I told her everything that had happened. She’d been expecting ye to contact her and assumed you’d gone rogue and were hurt.”
Ah God, in all the drama, I hadn’t thought to text Blair. I’d left the burner phone on, too. What a mess.
I scrubbed over my beard. “She’ll be here soon, apparently.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
Caitriona gazed at me, so pretty. But sadness glimmered in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked carefully. “Did something happen?”
“That call… It was the fertility clinic. They were trying to get hold of me with my test results.” She swallowed and looked away. “I was so worried about what they might say, except it hasn’t even crossed my mind in over a week. I’ve been given the go-ahead to try to get pregnant, but they warned me it could take time. She said it could be expensive and I might want to consider other options, if I had any.”
My aching heart thudded. “Can I be your other option?”
Caitriona swung her focus back on me, a desperation burning in her. “I want that. I want ye. But do ye even want more children?”
I reached for her and brought her into my arms, ignoring the stabbing pains that accompanied my warmest thoughts about this woman. She was hurting more.
I had all the words to reassure her, but there was something I needed to do first.
Isla had a say, and I wanted her to be a part of my plan, too.
“Aye, I do. Can ye wait for a counter offer from me?” I asked quietly.
Caitriona stiffened then settled.
For a long moment, we just held each other.
Finally, she uttered a single word that I knew meant so much more.
“Yes.”
* * *
Blair arrived in the middle of the night in a borrowed car and with only a military-issue backpack. I launched out of the cottage door and snatched my tanned and somehow harder sister into a hug.
We weren’t a hugging family, but she let me all the same. For a moment.
“How’s the heart?”
“Still ticking.”
She gave a short nod and that was it, care issued and over.
I led her inside, and Caitriona joined us. I made the introductions between my sleepy sweetheart and my indomitable only living relative.
Caitriona pressed her hands together. “I’m so glad you’re here. Isla is asleep, but she’ll be thrilled to see ye in the morning. I made chicken stew this evening and set ye aside a portion. Shall I warm it up now? We’ve also made up a bed in my cottage, right next door, so ye have your own space.”
Blair looked Caitriona over then grinned at me.
I knew exactly what she was thinking, how I’d found the perfect person for me. And she was right.
Blair settled in, delighting Isla the next morning.
But however much she wanted to see her niece, my sister had an objective in mind that matched my own.
Two days later, Blair and I set out on a drive to our old hometown of Torridon. Liv’s family still owned a house there, and Blair’s contacts had informed us that both brothers now lived there, along with Liv’s mother.
With any luck, they’d all be home.
On a mission, we arrived at the remote house on the coast. Around, a splendid backdrop of sea and mountains were washed in glorious winter sunshine.
Blair was armed. Under our shirts, body armour protected us.
But this was precautionary.
My sister’s research had turned up a different picture than expected. No more did they appear to run a drug importation business. As with Liv, the brothers had become addicts in prison. The older, Danny, had turned a one-eighty after completing his sentence. He now volunteered as a lay pastor, giving up his time to counsel youngsters in trouble.
I idled the car at the end of the short road. “Ye know, for years I feared seeing these people. I talked to Cait about it, and we linked it back to my childhood.”
Blair sighed. “How Da’s abuse made ye overprotective to the point of extreme? Aye. It’s the reason I fight, too. No point dwelling on that shite, brother. Those abilities keep me safe, and they enabled ye to protect your woman. Suck it up. We’re going in.”
I approached the house with a new resolution that I wanted from the day.
At my knock, Danny appeared. He smiled, glancing between us. “Can I help ye? It’s rare we have strangers visit here.”
“Bram MacNeill,” I said carefully.
Blair remained silent.
Danny’s smile remained in place, then recognition flickered.
“Bram? Of course! And Blair, is it not? I wouldn’t have known ye. It’s been so long. Come in.”
He admitted us, and we entered a quiet and tidy home.
In a comfortable arm chair, an older woman dozed. Liv’s ma.
“Ma?” Danny said. “Do ye recall Bram and Blair?”
The older woman jerked awake, scanning us. “Aye! Forgive me. Welcome.”
Just like that, I’d met Liv’s family again. Not that they could’ve been more different.
Danny made tea, telling us all about his pastor work. His ma summoned the younger brother, a quiet lad on a drug’s treatment programme.
When Blair raised the father’s name, all family members gave the same expression of disgust.
“My ex-husband will set foot in this house over my dead body.” Liv’s ma folded her arms. “It’s my home. My mother owned it before me. The divorce awarded it the same. I cannae regret marrying him because he gave me my bairns, but in the name of the wee man, I cannae stand the thought of Daniel senior.”
Her hands shook. Danny hugged her and reassured her.
“Your daughter, Liv,” I said slowly. “I saw her in jail a couple of weeks ago.”
“She let ye visit?” Danny asked. “The poor lass willnae see us. In time, we’ll bring her home, if she wants it.”
I glanced at my sister, because this was crunch time. I could walk away without mentioning Isla, or I could take the risk and forge a connection on her behalf.
For the entirety of her short life, I’d kept her close, but no more. Isla deserved better.
“Liv has a daughter. My daughter. Her name is Isla. Would ye like to see a photograph?”
And just like that, I built a bridge.
By the time we left, I had pictures for my daughter—an idea I’d taken from Caitriona, who had an album made by her da of her birth mother’s family—and a promise to one day introduce her to her ma’s relatives.
I kept our address to myself, needing more time to take greater steps, but the day felt momentous.
I only had greater ones to come.
* * *
In our warm car, high up on the mountain and overlooking the McRae estate, Isla sat by my side, sharing her snack of carrot sticks with me. Just the two of us today, Blair had returned to work. This morning, Caitriona had done Isla’s hair in a pretty twist, and I gazed at my lass, so grown up.
I swallowed against a surge of emotion. “Are ye happy here?”
Isla whipped her head around. “Aye, Da. Don’t say we’re going to leave.”
“I’m not, but there’s something I need to tell ye. About us, and how we go on.”
She listened, her eyes wide.
I reached for the album I’d made. At the front, it had pictures of Liv and her kin, then me with Isla as a bairn, and more of her growing up. I’d left pages empty at the end to add more family photos, as and when we took them, and if we ever found out more about her biological father, but the bare bones were here.
My hands shook as I passed it over, open to the first page.
“You’re old enough now to know all about your background, including your birth parents.” I forced out the words, calm and clear. “Your ma’s name is Olivia. She was my friend, and she fell pregnant with a boyfriend but came to me to raise her bairn. I became your father, though in my heart, not in my genes.”
I’d torn my soul to shreds over this, but it had been my mistake not doing it from the start, so I deserved the suffering.
Isla nodded along, flipping the pages. “Where is Olivia now?”
“In prison. Her family would like to meet ye one day. I know them from a long time ago.”
“Are they nice?”
“Aye, and they’ll love ye.”
“Do I have to see them?”
“Naw if ye don’t want to. The choice will always be yours.”
She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything further.
I pushed on through my rippling emotion, needing to make the point clear. She’d learned genetics at school, so I knew she had the basics. “I’m your da, and I always will be, but not genetically. Do ye understand?”
Isla stilled, then turned her huge blue eyes on me. In her hands, she’d arrived at the last pages of the book, the blank ones, our unwritten story from now on. “Can Cait be my ma?”
I’d expected half a hundred different outcomes to my statement, but never this. I stared, my throat tight and no words coming.
“Can we ask her? Please, Da. I want to stay here forever. Ye love Cait, I heard ye tell her. Please, can ye marry her?”
She’d accepted everything with barely a blink, then decided how she wanted it to be. The baby question c
ould come later, but I knew she’d be happy.
“Aye. We can. Will ye help me with my proposal?”
Isla squealed and leapt in her seat to hug me. I held her tight, such utter relief replacing my fear that it spun my head.
Every year, as Ally had done with a young Caitriona, I’d talk Isla through her story, making sure she knew the facts and give her the chance to ask questions. The hardest part was complete, and I was a man freed from shackles of my own making.
With Isla shouting ideas, I had a new plan to arrange. One where Caitriona became mine forever. Ours. A happy family together.
41
Caitriona
In the car next to me, Isla fidgeted, messing with her seat straps and drumming her hands on her legs. We’d paid a visit to see Casey, Lochie meeting with his rescue team, and were now heading back to ours for dinner.
Our pattern of living as a family had been easily found.
At the end of December, Casey had delivered her baby, and we’d visited multiple times, taking food for them and getting baby cuddles from tiny, month-old Callie.
It made me broodier than ever, but the desperate drive I’d had as a single woman had been replaced by a softer need. I wanted a little time with Lochie and Isla first. Nearly six months ago, they’d arrived in the cottage next door, and I’d fallen in love with both of them, wholeheartedly and completely.
Lochie had asked me to wait for an important question.
Whatever he offered me, I’d say yes.
We pulled up outside of the house, and Isla undid her restraints and shot out of the car. She rounded to my side and opened my door before I could reach the handle.
“Hurry up,” she demanded.
“What’s the rush?” I asked.
Isla made an off noise and grabbed my hand. All afternoon, she’d been clock-watching.
An anxious thought took root in my mind.
This was it. Wasn’t it?
I peered through the dark and frosty January evening. Candles glowed in the cottage.
“Oh God,” I uttered.
Isla laughed and dragged me. She hammered on the cottage door then opened it and darted in.
Right to her father’s side.