Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“I suppose you’re right,” I say to her. “Yes, let’s do that.”
She bends and picks a handful of wildflowers that sprout between the rocks at the cliff’s edge. “Here,” she says. “We’ll take these.”
And we do. Hand in hand, we walk away from the ocean and toward Holy Family, off to where the graveyard lies under shaded trees. It’s vacant today, save a little sparrow that flies from tree to tree as we enter, fighting against the winds that blow. Silently, we make our way to Eve’s grave.
She pauses a few feet away, as if giving me the freedom to approach first. The wind whips at her hair, and it flies about her like the mane of a wild stallion. She tries to tuck it behind her ears, but it’s no use.
“Come on,” I tell her, giving her hand a little tug. “We’ll go together, love.”
Today’s so unlike that first night we were both before Eve’s grave. We argued, then. It was the dead of night, and I was so furiously angry I could hardly see straight. I reckon I may have been harsh with her for just that reason. But God, how gorgeous she looked under the full moon, the prettiest thing I’ve ever set eyes on. After that night, I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
We approach Eve’s grave. Someone’s put flowers nearby recently, vivid red and purple flowers.
“From Aunt Maeve’s garden,” she whispers. “Aren’t they?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Aye.”
Megan bends and places the flowers she brought beside the ones already there.
“We brought you some flowers, Eve,” I say, feeling a bit strange speaking to her aloud. “That’s me and Megan who thought of that, by the way. She was the one who suggested it, and… well, I liked the idea.” Now that I’m talking to her, it seems I’ve so very many things to say. “Wee Breena’s grown up so much,” I tell her. “She looks so much like you. It’s been good for her, being surrounded by family as she is. Maeve treats her as if she were her own, and Breena calls her granny. And she’s got cousins, now.” I pause, because it’s gotten a little harder to speak. I open my mouth, but no words come.
“Aye,” Megan says cheerfully. “Loads of them. Uncles and aunts and cousins and… me.” Her own voice wobbles a little, but it doesn’t stop her from talking. It takes me a moment to see that she’s crying, but it doesn’t stop her from speaking her mind. Jesus, I love her. “And I promise you, friend. I’ll love them as best as I possibly can.” She sighs. “You have my word.”
It strikes me then that this is love, right here in a darkened cemetery, surrounded by the ghosts of the past and the sorrows of the present. Words spoken over the body of a woman I loved, words spoken by the woman I love now. Megan turns to me, and I brush her tears with the pad of my thumb. I place my finger under her chin and draw her up toward me. I bend and kiss her, a brush of lips, no more, no less. She sighs, and I taste her salty tears, before I pull away.
And the wind stops blowing.
“I don’t know how things work beyond the grave,” I say to Megan, drawing her to my chest as the warm sun from above basks on us. “But I like to think she’s at peace, now.”
Megan rests her hand gently on my shoulder. “I like to think you are, now, too.”
Chapter 20
Megan
The room’s so full it’s teeming with people. Everyone’s here, from Keenan and Caitlin and their children to Nolan and Sheena, her hand resting on her gently swollen belly, to even the lowest-ranking members of the Clan.
It warms my heart to see the couples together, mingling about with their children. It was only yesterday I told Carson that maybe the idea of marriage wasn’t such a bad thing after all. On a practical note, I know it’s best if we solidify our union and take advantage of the code that protects both me and Breena. But on the other hand, I wonder why I’ve objected all along. There are no other men for me.
Tiernan’s on holiday from St. Albert’s, sitting by the large open window, as a gentle late summer breeze rustles his hair, and Fiona sits beside him, chattering excitedly about her best friend who’s going off to Boston to study.
“Boston?” he says sharply. “Don’t you get any notions in your head now about going there.” She tosses back her head and shrugs.
“Like hell she will,” Lachlan says. He stands behind her with his hand in his pocket and a glass of whiskey in his hand.
She tosses her head and frowns at both of them. “Neither of you can tell me what to do,” she says. I know that feisty heart well, the one that wants to break away from the oppressive protection of the Clan and spread her wings. I sigh and make a mental note to have a wee chat with Fiona. I wonder if her reckless comments have anything to do with Lachlan joining the boys at the club in town last night.