As Abigale finished putting clean sheets on one of the cots, her assistant pulled the linen sheet curtain back that partitioned the room off from two other rooms and announced, “My lady, I’ve cleaned the other two rooms and rinsed out the wash basins. Is there more ye would like me to do?”
“Nay, Anna. I thank ye kindly for yer help today.” Abigale stood and placed her hands on her swollen belly. “I dunno what I'd do without ye.” She smiled.
“How much longer until the wee one arrives?” Anna reached over and touched Abigale’s belly.
Abigale didn’t mind the occasional belly rub. In fact it reminded her of how much she loved the wee one already.
“Oh Anna, I hope soon. The babe must be a boy, for his kicks are strong.” Abigale laughed.
“Shall I wait until ye’re done? I’m in no hurry.”
Abigale walked past Anna out into an open area where she could look out a small window. Shelves of glass containers filled with herbs and concoctions framed the window. Adjusting one of the jars, Abigale looked out the window and saw James approaching the village. A brilliant smile spread across her face and instantly her hands began to rub her belly again. “Nay Anna, go home to yer family and I’ll see ye in the morn.”
“Fare well this eve, my lady.” Anna picked up the basket of fruit Abigale had brought her this morn and quit the room.
Observing the space around her, Abigale couldn’t be happier; she was living her dream. A blessing indeed, James had allowed her to practice her skills and live out her passion. But most of all, she had her independence. Most women didn’t have that freedom. As she'd had her freedom taken from her back at the abbey, Abigale vowed she would assist any woman seeking their independence. Anna had come to her not so long ago, badly beaten. Her husband, a drunk, had beat her. After Abigale told James about Anna’s situation, Anna was under the protection of clan Douglas and as for the drunken husband… he was never heard of again.
Oh if Sister Kate could see me now, she thought. Abigale looked down at her belly. Aye, if she could see her now.
Breaking her reminiscing, James opened the door to her hut and two beautiful girls charged in before he could step over the threshold. The girls, with their blonde hair bouncing, greeted Abigale with hugs and kisses. “Oh my loves, I’ve missed ye too." Abigale embraced the girls. Peering up from their embrace Abigale locked eyes with her husband’s swirling amber depths and those fiery butterflies returned.
James entered the room and made his way to Abigale. He placed his hands on her belly and kissed her deeply. “I’ve missed ye two today.”
“Aye, we’ve missed ye too, my love.”
“Are ye ready for some fresh air, bel ange? I thought we would sit by the old rowan tree and let the girls play for a while. What say ye?”
“I think ‘tis a beautiful idea.” Abigale smiled up at James and kissed him.
“Good.” James motioned for them to step outside.
Indeed it was a gorgeous day. For once there was no threat of rain. Once outside the girls raced to their favorite spot and started to pick wild flowers.
Abigale and James walked beside his mare when Abigale noticed something strange. “James, how much is the lad at the stable feeding yer horse?”
James looked at Abigale as if she had grown two heads. “Why ye ask?”
“She’s fat.”
“Fat? Nay.”
Abigale stopped and James followed. She walked in front of the horse, rubbing the mare’s nose. “Shh lassie.” Continuing around to the horse's side, she ran her hand over its belly. “James, is there a possibility she could be pregnant?”
Still looking confused, he joined Abigale and did his own examination of the mare’s swollen belly. “Fergus, ye sly dog.”
Abigale faced James. “What do ye mean?”
“Do ye remember the night when I brought ye back to bed from sleeping in the stall with Fergus?”
“Aye.”
“Well, let’s just say I rewarded him for good behavior.” James winked.
Abigale slapped his chest. “Ye mean to tell me Shadow is now pregnant with Fergus’s baby?”
“Looks like it, love.”
Abigale’s laughter soon turned to tears.
“What’s wrong? Did I—“
“Oh nay, James, these are happy tears.” Standing on the tips of her toes, she hugged her husband. Now a part of her trusted friend would live on.
They broke their embrace and made it over to the rowan tree. James spread out a plaid then helped Abigale to sit. Next he handed her a basket of fruit and bread and teased Abigale with one of Alice’s famous oatcakes.
Finally as James made his way to the blanket, the ground below began to tremble. He paused for a moment and looked down at the earth.
“What’s wrong, James.” Abigale was beginning to feel alarmed when he didn’t respond right away. “James?”
As quickly as the earth shook, it stopped. Not wanting to frighten Abigale, James shrugged the rumble off but deep down his worse fears were beginning to surface.
“’Tis nothing. We’re fine.”
“James, I felt it too. Ye can no tell me that was nothing.”
He leaned his back against the tree as he joined Abigale on the blanket and motioned for her to come sit with him. “Dinnae worry, it’s no good for the babe.” He smiled.
Abigale quickly forgot about the disturbance as she found herself wrapped up in his loving embrace. Her back pressed up against his chest all the while James kissed her neck and rubbed her belly. How could she be so lucky to have a man who loved her so much? Truly she felt like her life was complete.
“I have something for ye,” James whispered in her ear. ”Close yer eyes.”
She did exactly what she was told. She could hear James rustling around in his satchel next to him.
“Open yer eyes.”
What she saw took her breath away. An elegant silver torc with dragon heads on each of the ends stared back at her. The dragon’s eyes were made out of amber. The torc shined as the sun’s rays hit the metallic necklace making it sparkle. It was fit for a queen.
“Oh James, this is –“she was at a loss for words; the piece was beyond any riches she had ever seen.
“Here, let me see how it looks on ye.” James pushed Abigale’s hair over her shoulder and placed the torc around her neck.
Touching the fine piece, she turned to face him. “It fits perfectly.” She placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him.
“Abigale Bruce, I love ye. Hell, I loved ye from the moment I saw ye that morn at the loch. I’m honored to be yer husband and I’m most definitely honored that ye will be the mother of my children. I hope that ye can learn to love my dragon just as much as I love ye.”
Tears were building up again. She was truly loved and she loved every bit of this man sitting in front of her, even the dragon. “I love all of ye and I could no be any happier than ye’ve made me.” Tears broke through and slid down her cheeks.
James took her face in his hands and wiped away the wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Happy tears?”
“Aye, happy tears.” Abigale smiled.
Books by Victoria Zak
Scottish Historical Paranormal Romance
Guardians of Scotland Series:
Highland Burn
Highland Storm
Highland Fate (2015)
Just Beyond the Garden Gate by Dawn Marie Hamilton
About the Author
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18<
br />
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Other books by the Author
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dawn Marie Hamilton dares you to dream. She is a 2013 RWA® Golden Heart® Finalist who pens Scottish-inspired fantasy and paranormal romance. Some of her tales are rife with mischief-making faeries, brownies, and other fae creatures. More tormented souls—shape shifters, vampires, and maybe a zombie or two—stalk across the pages of other stories. She is a member of The Golden Network, Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal, Celtic Hearts, and From the Heart chapters of RWA. When not writing, she’s cooking, gardening, or paddling the local creeks with her husband.
Blog: http://dawnmariehamilton.blogspot.com
Website: http://dawnmariehamilton.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/DawnMarieHamilton
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/dawnm_hamilton
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorDawnMarieHamilton
Just Beyond the Garden Gate
A Highland Gardens Novel
By Dawn Marie Hamilton
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © Dawn Marie Wolzein, May 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
PROLOGUE
Strathlachlan, Scottish Highlands, 1506
Your parents are missing.
The seneschal’s words reverberated inside Patrick’s head, louder and more insistent than the white-capped waves crashing against shingle at the foot of Castle Lachlan. Your parents are missing. He gripped the battlements’ cold stone and watched two galleys approach through the thickening haze, bows cutting through the turbulent water of Loch Fyne.
MacLachlan banners snapped.
Your parents are missing.
His stomach churned. Did his clansmen bring news?
Raw wind ripped Patrick’s hair free of its restraint. Damp from the salty spray, the strands stuck to his eyes and the sides of his face. With a growl, he pulled the thick mass back and secured it again with the leather thong.
A mighty clap of thunder echoed, and he shifted his weary gaze to the sky. Dark clouds hurled lightning bolts at distant hills. Damn the weather. He slammed a palm against stone. The imminent storm worsened his already foul humor. He’d traveled night and day in response to his father’s urgent request to return home, only to find his parents gone from the castle.
His clansmen whispered tales of strange happenings in the forest, afraid to utter the words aloud. Good Lord, he prayed the rumors about his parents proved false.
He arrived at the shore as the first galley beached. Briny air filled his nostrils. He stiffened when Donald MacLachlan lumbered over the side and strode forward. Well known for a lack of loyalty, his uncle was the last person he expected to see. Sudden apprehension crept through Patrick—the same wary readiness he felt before battle.
He wiped sweaty palms on his plaide and embraced the older man.
“’Tis good you have returned, lad.” His uncle thumped him hard on the back.
“My father’s missive stated I was to travel in all haste. What news?”
Donald’s gaze bored into him.
The eyes Patrick stared back at mirrored his own. Many folk said he and his twin brother, Archibald, resembled their father and uncle. Same chestnut hair, blue eyes and broad nose, except Archibald’s eyes held more silver than blue. They shared an identical cleft in their chins. Patrick wished his brother were home, but he traveled for King James and couldn’t return.
Donald sighed heavily. “I fear ’tis bad. You should have come sooner, before the trouble began. If only you honored the betrothal agreement and wed the Lamont lass.” He shook his head. “Now ’tis too late. Your father and his…” a scowl twisted his upper lip, “woman have gone missing.”
Patrick’s chest tightened and he clenched his fists so tightly his blunt nails cut into his palms. “My parents are missing and yet you belittle my stepmother. Have you no conscience, man? Can you not even say her name?”
“Neither she nor her Campbell kinsmen be friend to me.”
With effort, Patrick refrained from uttering further angry words at the insult to his sweet stepmother. “Tell me what happened.”
“We tracked them to the Fir-wood near the deserted hut. Three MacLachlan horses grazed there, but nary a sign of your parents. Heavier tracks made by other horses headed off to Lamont country and Toward Keep. We followed and crept as near as we dared.”
Donald tilted his head in the direction of the beach, and the two burly men working to secure the galley. “The MacEwen twins posed as Maclays to gain entry. A band of Lamont clansmen claims they chased your parents into the wood, intent on holding them for ransom. The Lamonts pursued, but when the clouds uncovered the full moon, your parents disappeared afore their eyes. They searched, but found naught. They tell all who are willing to listen Fir-wood is faerie-cursed.”
Staring across the rough seawater of the loch, Patrick struggled against soul-wrenching pain. As the eldest living son of the chief of the ancient Clan MacLachlan, he knew what the clan expected. He trained from the cradle to be a fierce warrior. Discipline demanded he show no emotion.
No fear.
But he couldn’t assuage the fear for his father and stepmother churning within him. Patrick hid his angry confusion and turned back to his uncle as an especially bright, jagged streak of lightning lit the man’s face.
Donald’s gaze wandered. He shifted from one foot to the other. “When we returned to Castle Lachlan, I believed you were still on the Continent. Not trusting the Lamont tale, I thought it best to take the galleys across the loch to Campbell country to search and seek word of the chief and his lady-wife there. Ach, lad, ’twas a waste of time.”
Patrick braced against a gust of wind, jaw tight. The tale made no sense. People didn’t disappear without a trace.
A loud scraping noise caused him and his uncle to look toward the water where the second galley beached. The rest of the lads jumped from the boats onto shore and made haste to secure the two galleys before the storm’s full rage fell upon them.
Patrick whirled and strode to the castle. He would find his parents.
CHAPTER ONE
Present Day, Anderson Creek, North Carolina
Wet skin glistened golden across his broad back in the sunlight. Muscles flexed with each stride as they climbed the waterfall. The enticing sight of water splashing over and caressing strong thighs and a tight butt the way she wanted to touch him had her licking parched lips in anticipation. Laurie moistened her lips along with the heroine and tightened her grip on the e-reader as if it were the hero's backside she squeezed. It was easy to get lost in the web of the story—the only way she experienced romance.
The nearby crunch of gravel made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She snapped her gaze up. At the edge of the secluded garden enclosed within yellow forsythia stood the tall, willowy woman she’d seen earlier at the inn. The woman watched Laurie through intense green eyes set in a face smudged with dirt. She wore grubby work cl
othes and boots, and an equally grubby wide-brimmed hat.
“Oh, hi.” Laurie smiled and placed the e-reader on the cedar side table. “You startled me.”
The woman continued staring, eyes narrowed.
“I’m Laurie Bernard, a guest at this inn.”
The intruder crossed her arms over her chest. “I ken that.”
“Who are you?” Laurie asked, trying to remain civil.
“Caitrina.”
“Is something wrong?” Laurie didn’t understand the woman’s rude behavior. Who was she? Why was she just standing there, staring?
“You’re sitting in my garden.”
“I see.” But she didn’t. Laurie shifted her weight in the chair, wishing the woman would get to the point or leave so she could finish reading her favorite author’s latest romance novel.
“I’ve many here and about.” The woman waved her arm in an arc. “Do you like gardens? If you do—”
“I do.” Okay, she’d pushed the right button. Laurie loved gardens. Dreamed of having one to care for.
“Then walk along the trail through those woods and you’ll find a special place.”
The trail appeared overgrown. Didn’t look like anyone had walked that way in ages. “Is it safe to walk in the woods alone?”
Caitrina pursed her lips. “If you’d rather not—”
“I didn’t say that. I want to make sure it’s safe to explore alone. I’ve heard there are bears in this area.”
“Bears wouldn’t dare bother you. This land belongs to Himself.”
“Himself?” Laurie creased her brow, puzzled by the strange term.
“Iain,” Caitrina said matter-of-factly.
Then she disappeared. Poof. Gone.
“What the—” Laurie clutched her chest over her fiercely-pounding heart. She jerked her gaze around. Where the hell did the woman go?
She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbed them with trembling hands, snapped them open and scanned the area again, but couldn’t figure out where Caitrina had gone so fast.
Highland Charm: First Fantasies Page 79