Quint’s complaint was a valid one, though. John Dougal MacLeod did seem to realize every time his father came near, that he’d be expected to share his mother’s attention, and if there was one thing the young lord of the manor wasn’t into, it was sharing.
She wiggled her hips against him. “Well, at the moment, our wee John is sleeping peacefully and has no idea we’ve slipped away. So what was that about showing me how happy you are to have me as your wife?”
He quickly bent her over the parapet, lifted her skirts, and plunged deep into her waiting warmth. Liquid fire flowed through her veins.
“My God, Beth, how I love ye,” he whispered. “Ye are my heart, my soul, my everything.”
She meant to answer him back. Really she did. But then he shifted slightly to the right, and his thick cock embedded itself even deeper. All Beth could manage to do was hold on and moan with the pleasure of it.
A sense of euphoria filled her as completely as he did. This was her time, this was her place, and here with this man was where she truly belonged. His strokes slowed and became more purposeful. Deep, long, hard thrusts that had the very roots of the hair on the top of her head tingling and her toes curling.
Her mouth went dry, and her limbs went weak.
“Thought I’d find the two of ye up here,” Bronwyn yelled. “Verra Hungry seems ta be verra hungry again, and ye know as well as I, he won’t take a tit that is nae his mither’s. Howling his head off, he is. About ta make the whole castle deaf.”
Quint stopped midstroke, groaned, and pulled out. “I’m nae gonna survive that bairn’s childhood. Ye just wait and see.”
Beth chuckled, turned in his arms, and whispered, “Oh, we’ll both survive this one, but it’s the one to come in the fall that concerns me. Two nursing weans at the same time will certainly cut deeper into our, umm, private time, Laird.”
At first, her husband looked confused, and then understanding dawned. “The one ta come in the fall? As in another one? Already? God help us both if he’s anything like his brother.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Oh, I doubt we’ll have to worry about that. I’m pretty sure she’ll come with her own very unique set of demands. And I’ll bet anything that, in no time at all, she’ll be giving her big brother a run for his money.”
Quint simpy shook his head. “Like I said, God help us both.”
Epilogue
Isle of Raasay, Castle Brochel
Summer 1690
A gentle nudge drew Beth from her thoughts, and she glanced up at the solemn face of her oldest son, John Dougal MacLeod. A smile tugged at her lips. So like his father he was. The same dark brown wavy hair, the same stormy blue eyes, even the same gentle smile. And just like his father before him, now the laird of the MacLeods of Brochel.
God above, how she missed Quint.
“Mither, ’tis time ta go.”
She shook her head. “I’m nae ready yet. I need a few more minutes alone with ye da.” Beth motioned toward the crowd of people standing around the freshly turned grave. “Ye be a good lad and take ye brothers, ye sisters, the wives, the husbands, and all the grandbairns back ta the keep. I’ll be along shortly.”
John Dougal’s shook his head. “I cannae be leaving ye out here all alone, Mither.”
She tsked at him. “I know my way back. I’ve lived on this isle for close ta fifty years, ye ken? There is nae a pebble upon the ground I’m nae familiar with. Do nae be treating me like one of ye bairns, Verra Hungry.”
John Dougal chuckled at the nickname his mother insisted upon using every time she felt the need to remind him who was really in charge. “Me bairns, as ye call them, Mither, are all full grown men themselves, and each and every one would have my hide, and rightly so, if I was ta leave their dear old granny sitting out in the cold. ’Tis still ta early in the year ta be at the mercy of the elements for verra long.”
As a reminder, the chill wind off the sea whipped about the small family cemetery, and Beth wrapped her shawl tighter about her shoulders. “I’ll have my own private time ta say goodbye to ye father, and that’s all there is ta it. A woman does nae live with and love a man as long as I have Quinton MacLeod and not give him the words of a proper goodbye.”
Duncan tapped John Dougal on the shoulder. “Ye ken there’s nae use arguing with her, Cousin. It’s a waste of good breath. I’ll stay close by until she’s ready ta go.”
Though at first, he looked as if he’d disagree, finally, John Dougal nodded, bent to her level, and kissed Beth on the cheek. “I love ye, Mither.”
She patted him on the cheek. “I know ye do, Son, and never forget I love ye, too. Every single one of my children is more precious than the world to me.”
“Aye, we ken. Ye tell us every day without fail. Even when we give ye reason ta be vexed with us.” He turned, gathered the crowd, and slowly, they made their way back down the path leading toward Brochel castle.
Duncan cleared his throat and pointed as he hobbled toward a small corpse of trees off to the right. “I’ll give ye your privacy then, my lady. I’ll be right over there when ye have need of me.”
“Thank ye,” she said.
What a fine man Duncan Macleod had become. Not only had the sad, little crippled boy kept his word and diligently guarded John Dougal’s back, but he’d also become a most studious steward for Brochel and a patient teacher to the children who lived upon the isle. He’d married one of old Annie’s many granddaughters, the little red-haired one, and together they’d raised a large boisterous family consisting of a lovely daughter of their own, and four braw sons. All perfectly healthy, all full grown now, and all with families of their own.
She glanced around the isle. “Oh Quint, look at how ye wee village has grown and prospered. I know you’ve only been gone from us for the span of two sunrises, but I swear those grandbabies and great grandbabies of ours have grown at least an inch. Time passes so quickly. Every day speeds by. I miss ye, my love, and God willing, I’ll see ye again soon.”
The last words he’d spoken to her fluttered through her mind like the costal breeze, only much warmer. “I’ll be waiting for ye on the other side, my Beth, but take ye time getting here, ye ken? And when ye do get ta where I’m going, we’ll dance among the stars and take a stroll upon the moon just like those men ye once told me about. My Beth, my heart, thank ye for keeping ye promise and staying with me all these many years. I once told ye all life was a gift and nae ta be wasted, but in truth, ye were always a gift more precious than my life ever was ta me.”
Weariness washed over her, and Beth laid her head upon the cold stone of the bench she’d been sitting upon. Though she hadn’t thought about him in years, she called out to Fate. “Tobias, how I long for ye to come and take me to them now. I’m so ready.”
The air around her began to shimmer. “Are you certain this time, madam?”
Beth sat straight up, and her mouth gaped open. Right before her eyes stood Fate, Tobias Moiré, third generation event manipulator, and he looked exactly the same as he had the last time she’d seen him.
She couldn’t help herself. She smiled. “Tobias, how have ye been?”
Not much had changed since the last time she’d laid eyes on him. He still wore what appeared to be the same long white robe, and his brown hair was as disheveled as it ever was. Even his wire-rimmed glasses appeared to be the very same pair she’d last seen him wear.
The little man glared at her. “How have I been, you ask? How do you think I’ve been? I’m a Fate, and I’ve been busy, of course. While you’ve been happily lollygagging about in the past, I’ve had wars, disease, hatred, and all manner of human conditions to deal with.” He pointed to the large-faced watch gracing his wrist. “But that’s beside the point. Time isn’t to be wasted. Did I hear you correctly, madam? You are ready to be reunited with your children as we agreed?”
“Oh yes,” she said with a sigh. “And with Quint, too.”
An understanding came over her, and Beth glanced
back down at the bench she’d been relaxing upon only moments before. There lay what remained of Lady Elspeth Frasier MacLeod’s lifeless body. She looked perfectly peaceful, serene.
“Umm, dead again, I take it?” Beth cringed.
Fate nodded, and his smile held a hint of sadness. “I’m afraid so, madam. Nothing fancy like a thousand-year-old rock toppling over, mind you. Your death this time was simply Lady Elspeth Frasier MacLeod’s turn. A turn, I might add, that had no need whatsoever for my particular talents. And at least in this instance, it won’t take a full crew in hazmat suites to clean up the mess.”
Beth shuddered.
From his pocket, Tobias Moiré pulled the same high-tech smart-phone-looking thingy he’d used on her the first time and began pushing buttons. “Our agreement was I’d reunite you with your children, and that is precisely what I intend to do. Quinton MacLeod, however, was never part of the equation.”
Beth braced herself for the feeling of floating up and away in the ever-growing pool of nothingness she’d experienced last time. Right before it completely enveloped her, she managed to shout. “But they’re all in Heaven waiting for me. Reuniting me with one will reunite me with all three. Won’t it?”
His voice was no more than a whisper, but his response carried upon the wind. “We shall see.”
****
“For the love of God, would ye please stop kicking the back of my seat? I already have a headache.” Beth snapped her mouth shut and grasped the steering wheel with both hands. Large metal objects—cars—whizzed by her at amazing speeds.
“I’m hungry,” Brian whined.
She took two deep breaths and glanced into the rearview mirror. Her heart almost stopped for the third time. There sat Ben and Brian, in the back seat, in their little baseball uniforms, very much alive.
Oh God, her boys. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and forced herself to answer. “We’re all hungry, honey.”
Rain beat down faster, and Beth probed her memory for the instructions of how to turn up the wiper blades. She glanced at the passenger side of the front seat, and there sat Tobias Moiré big as life.
“What’s going on?” she hissed.
Fate turned his face toward her and smiled. “You did as I asked you to do and gave Quinton MacLeod his heir, and now I’ve kept my word and returned you to your children. A deal is a deal, madam.”
Beth glanced quickly into the back seat.
Fate chuckled. “Don’t worry. They can neither see nor hear me. Only you can.”
“Why? Why here? Why now? I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I can’t watch my children die a second time. I can’t. I won’t.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she swiped them away. The car swerved to the right, and she fought to control it. This driving stuff was a lot harder than she remembered.
Fate shrugged. “Then don’t.”
Beth took her foot off the gas, but the car didn’t slow. She applied the brake all the way to the floor, but the vehicle didn’t change speed. Frantically, she looked toward Fate. “Make it stop.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. The journey you’ve begun must be completed.” He pointed upward. “Not my decision. His.”
“Can we have mac and cheese when we get home?” Ben asked.
Beth gulped. “Sure, why not.”
“Why do you do that?” Brian argued. “You know we can’t have mac and cheese. What’d Dad say last time?”
Ben huffed from the back seat beside his brother. “I don’t care what Daddy says. He doesn’t have to eat it if he doesn’t want to.”
Brian kicked the back of Beth’s seat, again. “Oh yeah? Well, I bet you’ll care when he throws it on the floor or at Mom again. Won’t ya?”
She could hear the fear in her young son’s voice, and like the last time, it broke her heart all over again. “Don’t worry about it, Brian. I’ll make ye, I mean your father a nice big baked potato to go along with his steak. Just the way he likes it.”
She glanced in the rearview mirror at her sons. God, how she’d missed them. Both blond and handsome with dark brown eyes and winning smiles. Ben, with a smattering of freckles across his nose and ridiculously oversized ears, and Brian, with his rosy cheeks smudged with dirt.
“Give it back,” Ben suddenly yelled.
Beth jerked out of the contemplation of her near perfect children and back into reality of the moment mode. Her voice shook. “Brian, give your brother back what you took, please.”
“I just wanted to look at his stupid catcher’s mitt.”
Her eight-year-old still sounded whiney, and what a wonderful sound it was.
Ben’s piercing screech went right through Beth’s heart. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t want your greasy paws on my stuff? Give it back like Mom said.”
Beth took a deep calming breath and slowly blew it out as she gripped the steering wheel harder. “Brian, give your brother back his mitt now, please.”
Instead of doing as she’d asked and just as she expected, Brian tossed the catcher’s mitt into the front seat and out of his brother’s reach. It landed on the passenger side floor board. Right at Tobias Moiré’s feet.
“Mom!” Ben whaled.
Beth gulped, but this time she didn’t overreact, and she didn’t say the things she’d longed to beg her children’s forgiveness for. Instead, she looked right at Fate and tightened her seatbelt. “Not this time. If I can’t avoid what’s coming, then I’ll make sure I stay right here in this car with them.”
The event manipulator chuckled. “Whatever you wish, madam. I’m simply a passenger, and I’m immortal.”
She ignored the little man and turned her head slightly toward her children. “I’ll get your mitt when it’s safe to pull over, Ben.”
Fear gripped Beth’s heart as she once more faced the oncoming traffic and their oncoming fate.
But this time, the lane was clear.
There was no dark pickup truck with its headlights blinding her and its tires swerving dangerously forward. No need to slam on her brakes and veer. No need to throw her free arm over the backseat in hopes of somehow shielding her children from what was about to happen.
Nothing.
There was nothing at all in her line of vision except a long stretch of wet Miami highway.
Beth drove a couple of more miles for good measure, and when the turn off to the road where she’d shared a home with Burt came into sight, she took her foot off the gas pedal. This time, the car slowed. She gently applied the brakes, pulled completely onto the gravel shoulder, and allowed the car to come to a stop.
She turned off the engine.
Unbuckling her seatbelt, Beth leaned over, picked up the mitt, and tossed it back to Ben. He grinned, and her eyes filled with tears. How? How could now be so very different from before?
Tobias Moiré cleared his throat. “Because, as I’ve told you before, time really is a circle, madam.”
She tore her gaze from her children and stared at Fate. “What?”
The event manipulator rolled his eyes. “You were wondering why, this time, there was no accident, weren’t you?”
She nodded.
“Well,” he continued. “It is because time truly is a circle. Changes made in the past are like tiny ripples upon a pond. They spread out and trickle down through time so to speak. When Lady Elspeth gave Quinton MacLeod his heir, a series of events was set into motion that directly affected Bethany Ann Anderson and her children.”
Tears ran down her cheeks, and Beth worked to swallow the lump forming in her throat. “How?” she finally choked out.
“Mom, are you okay?” Brian sounded scared.
She glanced over the seat at her small son and smiled. “Yes, honey, Mommy’s fine. I—I just need a minute.” To Fate, she whispered, “Go on.”
Tobias nodded. “One of Elspeth’s and Quinton’s great-great-great-whatever grandsons now sits upon the night court bench in Miami. It was his turn two days ago when a
certain drunk driver appeared before him. Instead of being released with a summons to appear at a later date, he was held over for trial. Something about a well-known family inclination to detest and punish those who imbibe to excess and cause harm to others. I do believe he once was quoted as to have said that particular inclination had been passed down through many generations of MacLeods.
“Therefore, madam, since the man who was responsible for the accident in your previous life now sits rotting in a jail cell where he belongs, he could not possibly be on this stretch of highway this evening, causing harm to anyone.”
Beth took a deep breath and stared through the windshield. “I suppose I should start this car and go home. Shouldn’t I?”
Fate nodded. “It is where you live.”
“I can’t go back to the way things were with Burt. Especially after the life I’ve had with Quint. I won’t.”
Fate nodded again. “No, I suppose you cannot.”
She started the engine and eased onto the road. “When will I get to see Quint again?” Suddenly, she gasped. “Oh my god, my children, my grandchildren, Duncan, they’re all dead now, too, aren’t they?”
Fate sighed. “It has been almost four hundred years, madam. But as I’ve said, there is no passage of time in Heaven. When you get there, and it’s not my place to tell you when that will be, they will all be waiting for you. And it’ll be as if you were with them this very morning.”
“I was,” she sobbed.
“Mom,” Ben whispered. “Who you talking to? You’re starting to scare me.”
Beth shook her head. “Sorry, honey. I was talking to myself. You know how I get sometimes.”
She laughed a little brokenly.
Fate patted her hand. “You’ll be fine, madam. Just remember the MacLeod motto and hold fast. By the way, what do you plan to do about your present husband, Burt?”
The rain was no more than a mist as she pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. The boys immediately jumped out of the car.
Time For A Highlander (Real Men Wear Kilts) Page 27