The Lady and the Earl (61 page)

“
Thank you, Kara.  And thank you for taking care of my family.”

“It has been my honor, Allana. 
Now off with you.  Your man is waiting,” Kara said with a smile, motioning to Allana’s right.
 

Allana
looked to see
Declan
watching her from a distance.  He
did
seem to be waiting, possibly even hoping for her to come to him. 
“I believe you’
re right.  Please excuse me.” 

She walked to him
,
never taking her eyes from him.  He met her gaze evenly and simply waited.  When he
had returned from London, she’
d wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she dared not.  Now she did not hesitate.
  She strode to him, arms opening before she even reached him
.  He wrapped her up
ti
ghtly,
ignoring the pain she knew must be in his shoulder as he held her.

“I
love you,” she whispered. 
“I love you more than anything, and I never want to be away from you again.”

“I’
m never letting you go again,” he said gruffly as he held her. 

She
looked up at him then stretched onto her toes to brush his lips with hers.
 
“
Thank you
.
”

“
Oh Allana.
  I thought I had lost you,” he admitted.

“Never.
  I will always be yours and only yours.”

“
I need you, Allana,” he said softly to her.  “You are my perfect match.  I will love you the rest of our lives if you let me.” 

“I would have it no other way.”

That night, he simply held her in his arms.  The love they felt was beyond passion.  It was soul binding. They loved each other in ways that brought the healing her mind, body, and soul needed.  They were destined for each other, and now they had the rest of their lives to live and love.

Connor woke early the next morning.  The pain in his shoulder had become unbearable.  He finally gave up sleep and slipped out of the small tent he was sharing with two other men.  The sun was dimly rising above the horizon, taking some of the night shadows out of the camp.  Connor shivered as he watched it.  It was a cold, brisk morning, and he felt a slight fever creeping through his body.  In the middle of the camp was a small fire still
burning.
  Connor made his way to it and sat on a log close to it, trying to get warm.  He was shivering uncontrollably now, and he felt light headed.  If only he could get warm.  He wanted his own bed, some peace and quiet, and a bottle of whisky.  Then he would sleep for two or three
days
straight
,
hopefully giving his shoulder time to heal.  As it was, he felt so weak and dizzy and cold he was miserable.

A small boy came rushing through the camp, stopping short when spotting Connor.  Connor stared at the boy.  He was seeing things now; he had to be.  The fever and loss of blood were making him delusional.  Looking at the boy in front of him was like looking at a dark-haired image of himself at that age.  He blinked and shook his head to try to clear his mind.  The boy was still there.

“Garret Joseph Meredith,” a female voice hissed.  “Get back here this instant.” 

A woman stepped out of the shadows of a tent, looking tired, warn, and more beautiful than Connor could remember her being.  Now he knew he was seeing things.  What was Sophia doing here?  He whispered her name, afraid she might disappear if he said it too loudly. 

She froze when she noticed him sitting there, all color draining from her cheeks. 

“Sophia?” h
e asked again, standing to go to her.  His spinning head and weak body caused him to stumble to the ground.  His shoulder ached worse than anything at the moment, and he could feel fresh blood trickling from it and down his chest.  He tried to focus his eyes on her.  She was still there.  The fantasy hadn’t disappeared yet.  Pain seared his soul as he stared at her.  It was worse than the pain his wound caused.  A tear slipped down his cheek.  “I thought I had lost you forever,” he whispered. 

He tried to stand again, but lacked the strength.  His body felt cold and foreign.  He needed his bed and his whisky to make this a nice dream instead of such a cold one.  He
fell
the rest of the way to the ground, breathing heavily.

She watched him for a moment looking as if she wanted to run from him.  Instead she went to him, rolling him onto his back and placing his head in her lap.

“This feels so real,” he said, reaching up to touch her lovely face.  A smile spread across his. 

“That’s because it is real, you fool.  Now stay still, so I can look at your wound.”  Her voice was bitter, but he could still see love in
her tear-glistened eyes
. 

She opened his shirt to examine his wound then pressed her wrist to his forehead.
 
Her touch brought warmth into his freezing body even though her skin felt cold on his.  He yearned to hold her once again. 

“Oh Connor, you’re burning with fever, and you’ve lost so much blood.  Garret, go fetch Aunt Kara,” she ordered the young boy.

“Yes, Mama,” the boy answered, running off into the morning.

“You have a son?”  Connor asked in a daze. 
“Handsome boy.”

“That’s because he’s yours,” she answered solemnly.

Connor laughed.  “I always wanted a son.”  His mind was dizzying.  He wasn’t thinking straight, but so far this was the best dream he could imagine
…or was it
real
?

“Oh, Connor.
  You’re going to be so angry when you recover.  Know this—it was for the best that I never told you.”  She caressed his face tenderly. 

Her touch
seemed
very
real.  He clasped her hand and stared at it.  She didn’t disappear, and she felt solid.  He wasn’t dreaming.  “You’re truly here,” he whispered
,
pulling her hand to his lips. 
The act was more than hi
s weakened body could bear.  His
vision
began to go dim, and he had to fight t
o stay conscious.
“Sophia, my love…” he paused, struggling to keep his eyes open.  “Sophia…
stay
…
with me
…
.
”
 

“Connor.
  Don’t go to sleep, Connor,” she said as h
e closed his eyes
. 
“Connor
!
  Connor!  Somebody help me!”

Connor could hear the panic in her voice.
 
He wanted to comfort her, to tell her he would be well again. 
He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to cooperate.  He tried to squeeze her hand
in reassurance
, but his own slipp
ed
from her
s instead.  He did not have the strength for any of it.
 
He just needed rest.
  Then he would…darkness took him.

He slept fitfully, fighting for his life
, fighting for the chance to see her again and to make things right.  And he
would
make things right.
  He’d finally found her.
  After years of searching, he could
finally tell her how wrong he’
d been to let her slip away.  He could never love a
nother
the way he did
Sophia
, and h
e would not lose her again.

Connor
didn’t
wake to
full awareness
for nearly a week.  When he did,
he was home in his own bed, and
Sophia Murrieta—Josephine Meredith—was
gone.

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