To Bewitch a Highlander (Isle of Mull series) (30 page)

“What?” Ronan could not have been more surprised. The sincerity of Shoney’s affection was not the question Ronan was expecting Aidan to pose.

“You had best have a good reason for what you just said.”

“If you let go of me, I’ll tell you”, Aidan said.

“No. I intend to hold on securely to ensure you do not slip away. That way I do not have to chase you down if I decide that in the end you do deserve a good beating. And let me just say, Aidan, odds are moving in that direction.”

“Alright, I’ll get right to it. The day I arrived and told your mother about your Da’s passing, Shoney believed it was you who died, and to be painfully honest, she didn’t seem too broken hearted. But when I told her that you lived, the lass broke into tears and raged at me to get out of her hut as though I delivered ill news.”

“You are lying”, Ronan growled through gritted teeth.

“I have never lied to you, Ronan.”

Ronan’s grip on Aidan’s plaid slackened as he stared out in a daze over the moors. Could it be true? Could the very woman he had yearned for, stayed alive for truly wished he died? He felt as though someone had just struck him hard in the stomach, knocking the breath from his body.

“When you saw her again did she offer any explanation?” Ronan asked.

“I have not seen her. She has stayed in her hut these three days. Only your mother, Una, and Morna have spoken to her. And to be honest, I don’t think I could have faced her if she had come out.”

Ronan was not prepared for this. He knew she might not wish to relinquish her past and remain in the village as Bridget, but he never distrusted her love. A part of him wanted to race back to the ships and run away from the doubt now plaguing his heart, but he was not going to flee. He would not back down. After coming so far and fighting through the very depths of hell to return to her, by God, he would hear her denial of their love from her own lips.

“Get out of my way, Aidan”, he snarled. Aidan did not have to be asked twice, for which Ronan was thankful. Rage threatened to explode inside him, and Aidan would not have escaped injury if he tried to intervene again.

Once more, Ronan dug his heels into his horse’s flanks, pushing the beast onward as if the Devil himself was behind him in flaming pursuit. He sped through the village pathways heedless of the chickens and sheep that skirted the horse’s pounding hooves. When he came upon Shoney’s hut, he pulled his mount to an abrupt halt and leapt to the ground. He stomped up to the door and raised his fist, swinging it down with pounding force but stopped just before his knuckles connected with the wood.

What was wrong with him?

He turned away from the door, running his hand through his hair in frustration. What was he going to do, break down the door and demand she love him? Thrash her until she yielded? Either she loved him or she didn’t. Either she was willing to surrender the things of her past and make a new life with him or she wasn’t…There was only one way to find out.

He turned back to the doorway and took a deep breath. Then he rapped lightly on the wood. She did not call for him to enter.

He knocked a little louder and still received no response. He slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. She sat at the fire with her back to him.

He cleared his throat.

“Shoney, I knocked, but you did not answer”, he said.

She did not turn around.

“I have returned, Shoney, just as I said I would.”

Still, she would not face him.

He ached to rush to her and lift her into his arms. He did not understand how she could be so cold, so unfeeling. Aidan must have been right.

He straightened his stance. If he could face the fiercest Viking warriors, then he could face a mere slip of a lass. But despite the valor of his thoughts, his hands shook with nerves. His fate, his future happiness was about to be decided.

“Shoney, I need to know once and for all”, he stated, “will you build a home with me and a family? Will you be my wife?”

She did not answer.

“Shoney, why do you not look at me?” Ronan implored, his resolve weakening.

“Shoney, answer me”, he pled.

“Shoney…Shoney.”

Then she stood.

He held his breath as he watched her pivot. First, he glimpsed her profile—her pert nose and downcast eyes. Then, finally, she faced him.

Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet his. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and her mouth was fixed in a grim line.

“How dare you call me Shoney”, she snapped. She stomped toward him and stuck her all too familiar finger in his face.

“My name”, she said, “is Bridget.” Then her lips curved into a smile.

As the meaning of her words rang clear, he collapsed to his knees and expelled the breath he had been holding.

“You little minx. I have been to hell and back. I have witnessed unspeakable atrocities and the depth of man’s ruthlessness. But nothing I have seen could have prepared me for the brutality you inflicted upon my innocent heart just now”, he said with feigned soberness.

“Given how you so cruelly earned my promise before you left, I felt a little suspense would not go amiss”, she smiled as she rushed into his arms.

“I supposed I deserved that, although was my torture truly so cruel? I can still hear your cries of pleasure.”

He lowered his lips to kiss her, but he hesitated.

“So you will stay with me then?” he asked. He had to be certain. He needed to hear the words.

“Are you daft?” she laughed. “Aye, Ronan, Laird of the MacKinnon, I vow to love you and to live out the rest of my days here with you.”

He threw his head back and hollered as he placed his hands at her waist and lifted her high in the air. Pieces of dried peat broke off as her head grazed the ceiling. He spun her around and around in circles. He could not stop laughing, and she seemed equally unable to contain her mirth. The sound of their laughter filled the confines of the small hut. He imagined the walls threatened to collapse under the collective pressure of their contentment.

Then once again he pulled her close, “You will never regret loving me”, he whispered. He stared into her stormy gray eyes.

“But, wait. Shoney…”

“You mean Bridget, don’t you”, she smiled.

“Never when we are alone”, he grinned. “But, I must know. Why did Aidan say you grieved when he told you I was alive? Is the regret and sacrifice of loving me too great to bear?”

She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I have no regrets, and I make no sacrifice. For what I realized, Ronan, is that I honor my mother by loving you.”

“I do not understand”, he said.

“It was not my mother’s convictions or her beliefs that truly gave her life meaning. It was I”, she smiled. “I gave my mother joy, and I know now that what she would want most is for me to find joy in my own life. You see Ronan, I understand this now because…”, her voice trailed off as she blushed and averted her eyes.

He cupped her cheeks forcing her gaze to meet his own.

“Because, why?” he said.

“Because I know how it feels to love as a mother does.”

Her tears fell as she took his hand and pressed it to her stomach, and his eyes grew wide as he felt a slight roundness that had not been there before.

He dropped to his knees and bending his head, he placed a kiss on her belly. “How exquisite you are to me”, he whispered. “From out of great loss springs forth new life. We shall have many children.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled, “Yes, my dear, my hunger for you is such that you shall never go long without one of my sons or daughters growing inside you.”

She playfully swatted him before wrapping her arms around his neck. He stood, lifting her again in the air.

“You are everything to me”, he whispered.

“And I am nothing without you”, she replied.

Then he lowered his mouth to hers, slowly taking full possession of her lips. He held her tightly, vowing to spend the rest of his days ensuring hers were always filled with joy.

Epilogue

Shoney’s eyelids snapped open. Something, or someone, had spoiled her slumber. She reached out and felt for Ronan who was fast asleep beside her. He slept peacefully despite the tempest that raged outside. In the darkness, she could not see his face, but she did not need light to conjure forth the image of her beloved. The small lines now creasing his eyes and mouth were softer when he slept. Shoney stroked his graying hair and placed a kiss on his lips. Satisfied that Ronan slept undisturbed, she lied back in the darkness and waited for the violators of her rest to reveal themselves.

A deafening clap of thunder rebounded off the stones of Dun Ara Castle. Soundlessly, she tugged at their blanket, pulling the woolen fibers over Ronan’s shoulder and beneath her chin to banish the chill from their bed. This simple movement was her only acknowledgement of the weather. Shoney knew it was not the storm that pulled her from her dreams. Having lived forty-nine winters, she was used to the frequent tempests that raged unchecked over the moors, and with the same unyielding strength of the land, she paid them no heed. She closed her eyes and waited, knowing that all would be revealed soon enough.

A smile gradually lifted the corners of her lips. Something from deep within her body sought to be acknowledged. There, she felt it again, only this time she knew what it was.

The gentle thumping of another’s heart was beating in time to her own.

United, their hearts beat gently and evenly. Shoney felt as if her whole body was wrapped in snug layers of heat like a cocoon. She closed her eyes, losing herself to the strange but wonderful sensation. She was being lulled to sleep when a white light flashed before her eyes, warning Shoney that a vision was forthcoming.

She saw a cloaked figure, holding fast to a small bundle, shielding it from the storm, which pounded the moors with stinging rain and blazed the night sky with white lightning. Still the figure pushed onward toward what flashes of light revealed as the Daione Shi Knoll in the distance. The rain ceased and blackness fell but only for a moment. The clouds parted and a full moon revealed the figure standing amid the infamous moss covered stones at the foot of the knoll. But the bundle was gone, replaced by a fistful of pink flowers
.

The serenity Shoney felt was ripped away, only to be replaced by panic as her heart’s pulse rapidly accelerated. The aggressive rhythm produced a tremor that pulsed through her body and pulled her from her vision. At once, Shoney cast aside her cover, and in one fluid movement, she rose from the bed, leaving its warmth and Ronan behind. She yanked the brown folds of her tunic over her long golden and silver hair and settled it over her linen shift. Not bothering to belt her waist, she put on her leather slippers and grabbed her thickest cloak.

Then she turned her attention to the table where she kept her salves and potions. With hurried but precise motions, she shuffled through a series of small glass bottles and leather pouches, but she did not know what she needed. At last, intuition guided her to a small blue vial. Its contents of Water Mint and May Blossom was used to revive the body. Tucking it deep within her pockets, she glanced back at Ronan before hurrying downstairs to the hall. She moved silently passed the dogs asleep by the fire and pushed open the door. Then with neither hesitation nor fear, she gave Skatha, the goddess of shadows, a warm smile and stepped out into the night and into the storm.

She could hear the whipping winds catapulting waves over the isle’s steep, rocky coastline, but she was not heading toward the ocean. Instead, she trudged inland through the storm to the open moors. The heavy rains created small rivers of mud and washed out bracken. Overhead a bolt of lightning spread its luminous fingers across the sky, revealing the bleak wintry hills that stretched out endlessly before her, but only for an instant and then the light was gone, replaced once more with murky darkness. Shoney was soaked through to the skin, her body stooped from the weight of her water logged cloak and tunic, but she was not deterred. Something powerful had beckoned her—needed her, and she would answer its call.

There were only two things she knew for certain. First, she had to make haste to the Daione Shi Knoll, and second, whatever it was that waited for her there would unequivocally change her life.

The Knoll kept flashing over and over again in her mind’s eye. She knew this spot well. It was believed to be the entrance to the faery kingdom. Shoney smiled for a moment when she remembered advising Flora on how to treat her son when he fell on the pink flowers while at play. But that was many years ago. Shoney sighed as she pressed on.

At last, Shoney arrived just as lightening slashed across the sky. Winter had drained the Knolls beauty. Everywhere, the rocks were exposed having shed their summertime coat of thick moss, and though their jagged edges appeared sharp and severe, in truth, Shoney sensed a frailty about the place. She felt sadness everywhere, as if the stones themselves yearned for their glory days of emerald green abundance and the splendor of pink flowers.

She moved along the stones certain they held a treasure that was meant for her. Hidden among the tallest of the rocks, Shoney spotted the tiny bundle the cloaked figure in her vision had been carrying. She bent low and folded back a piece of sodden wool, exposing the face of a sweet babe, shadowed by darkness. It was tiny and icy cold to the touch. Even with the wind howling, Shoney could hear the baby’s raspy breaths.

Gazing down upon the helpless innocent, Shoney realized it was the baby’s heartbeat that invaded her sleep and set the night’s events in motion. Its spirit had beckoned her. Without further delay, she withdrew the small vial from her pocket and removed the wax casing. Then, with a sure hand, she poured the contents down the infant’s throat. The child sputtered and hiccupped, but the effects were immediate. With joyful relief, Shoney listened as the baby’s breathing grew deeper.

Wasting no time at all, she scooped the infant into her arms, wrapping the folds of her cloak tightly around them both. But before she began their journey home, Shoney crooned, “Everything is just as it should be.” Then she dipped her head, placing a kiss on the baby’s brow. When her lips touched upon the infant’s forehead a white light flashed in Shoney’s mind, followed by another vision.