Epilogue

“Unfasten it. I can’t breathe.” Joanna held tight to the bedpost while Lucia unhooked the dress of the lightest ecru lace that had fit quite nicely just four short weeks ago. Apparently, the breast-milk fairy had outdone herself with the magical boob-growing wand and her stomach was already developing a slight baby bump, rendering the lovely fitted dress of lace unwearable. “What am I going to wear—a freaking bedsheet?”

“You can’t get married in a bedsheet.” Lucia slid the dress down Joanna’s arms, helped her step out of it, then put it back on the hanger. “You want people to think your wedding has a toga party theme?”

Joanna sagged down to the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. “At this point, I don’t care what they think. All I know is that I’m miserable and I’m not even out of the first trimester yet. You weren’t this big this early with T. I can’t believe I’m already this huge.”

“You’re not huge, and I wasn’t that big at this stage because I only had one bun in the oven—not two.”

The faint strain of bagpipes, fiddles, and drums sounded from down beside the river. Sunset would be in just a little under an hour. It was almost time.

Joanna glanced toward the window, then down at her rounding stomach. “What the hell am I going to wear to marry your father?”

“Here. Wear this.” Lucia emerged from the closet with a sleeveless maxi-dress made from a gauzy slinky material, tie-dyed in spiraling shades of aqua to the deepest navy blue.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“It’s this or the bedsheet. What’s it going to be? We’re out of time.” Lucia pulled the dress off the hanger and gathered it up to pull it over Joanna’s head. “Now, here. Lift up your arms.”

A loud banging shook the bedroom door. “Mama! Auntie Jo! Uncle Grant said you two need to hurry up. He sent me up here to make sure y’all hadn’t run away.”

Lucia rolled her eyes, then jerked her chin for Joanna to raise her arms higher.

“Hello? I know you’re in there. I just heard you talking about Auntie Jo being huge before I knocked.”

“I’m almost ready, T. Everyone just needs to be patient.” Joanna yanked the much more comfortable maternity sundress down over her head and shook it down her body. This was a lot more comfortable, but she sure didn’t look like the average bride.

“Tyler, are you still out there?” Lucia turned toward the door.

“Maybe.” A shuffling just outside the door gave him away. “If I’m ’posed to be I am.”

“Yes. You’re supposed to be because you have to give Auntie Jo away like we practiced. You wait right there so you don’t get dirty. Okay?” Lucia fastened the brooch necklace around Joanna’s neck and did her best to fluff some life back into Joanna’s limp curls. “Curls are futile. Not with this humidity.”

“Just pull it back into a bun. I don’t care at this point.” Joanna kicked off the lace pumps she’d donned to match the wedding dress and slid on her leather sandals in their place. “Might as well be comfortable from head to toe.”

“You look beautiful,” Lucia said as she stepped back and smiled. Her gaze fell to Joanna’s more-ample-than-usual bustline and her smile grew even wider. “Trust me. Grant will love the dress.” She hurried to the bedroom door and pulled it open. “Oh, Tyler!”

Poor Tyler. Joanna could tell by Lucia’s tone that the boy was in trouble.

“I told you to stay clean.”

“You know I can’t wear white, Mama. You said so yourself.” Tyler proudly marched into the room, grass stains on the belly and elbows of his white dress shirt and the knees of his white pants. He held out his hand to Joanna. “You ready, Auntie Jo? You sure look pretty. I don’t think you look huge at all.”

Joanna’s heart melted. No one with an ounce of feelings could stay angry with the boy and he knew it. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

They made their way down to the sandy bend in the river located just below Grant’s home. Guests filled the white chairs lined up along the beach in front of the white arch laced with ribbons of the MacDara colors and vines of ivy. Bagpipers stood on either side of the arch, and drummers and fiddle players stood beside them. The musicians serenaded the crowd with what Joanna could only guess were authentic Scottish ballads.

Dwyn MacKay stood inside the arch with a length of MacDara tartan ribbon and a dagger in his hands. Grant had warned her about the ceremony. Told her it was the old way—not so far back as the century from which he came, but it was a part of Scotland’s history. He’d hesitantly asked her if she’d be willing to do it. Whatever made Grant happy was fine with her since they’d already made the marriage legal at the courthouse last week.

Her heart rate shifted to an excited hammering as she and Tyler stood at the end of the path of white rose petals and waited. Grant was breathtakingly handsome in full Highland dress with his vest and short suitcoat. Broad chest, hair slicked back into a sexy man bun. A sigh escaped her. She could definitely spend the rest of her life with this man. This is the right decision.

Grant’s gaze caressed her from the top of her head to the tips of her freshly pedicured toes. He smiled proudly and nodded his approval. The warm glow of being totally and unconditionally loved rushed through Joanna. Grant didn’t care what she wore. All he cared about was that they were together.

Tyler led her to the arch and handed her to Grant. “I know I didn’t say nothing when we ’hearsed but I need to say something now. You better be good to my Auntie Jo or you’ll have me to deal with.”

Joanna flinched at the quiet tittering that rippled through the crowd. Tyler meant every word he’d said and she wouldn’t have his feelings hurt for anything in the world.

Grant stepped forward and went down on one knee in front of the child. He removed his dagger from its sheath and held it up in the old way that Scots pledged their fealty to their chieftain. “I swear to treat yer Auntie Jo with love and respect in this life and the next. She is my heart and soul. I’ll protect her ’til I draw m’last breath.” Then he kissed the haft of the dagger and bowed his head.

“You’re a good man, Uncle Grant. You have my blessing.” Tyler patted the top of Grant’s bowed head, then turned and marched to his seat in the front row between his mother and Taggart MacClendon.

Joanna turned and smiled at Lucia, who was beaming with pride.

“Let us begin,” Dwyn announced in a strong, deep voice that in no way sounded as though it could’ve come from his short, slight body. “Your hands, please.”

Both Joanna and Grant held out their right hands, palms up. Joanna pulled in a deep breath, praying she wouldn’t pass out during the next part.

Dwyn held the dagger up to the sky, closed his eyes, and mouthed a silent prayer. Then he steadied both their hands as he made a quick cut in each of their palms.

“Well done, lass,” Grant whispered as they clasped their hands together.

Joanna drew in a shaking breath and wet her lips. That wasn’t so bad.

Dwyn wrapped the plaid cloth around their hands and pressed the blade of the dagger atop it. He nodded first at Grant, then Joanna. “I bind thee upon this day, but know this—the connection will nay be complete until ye’ve said yer vows to one another, aye?”

“Aye,” they responded in unison.

Grant eased a step closer. He lifted their bound hands and gave her a gentle squeeze. “By the stars above and the earth below, I pledge my life to thee. Ye are m’heart. Ye are m’soul for all eternity.”

Joanna swallowed hard and smiled up into Grant’s trusting eyes. How could she ever have thought to leave this man for something as meaningless as money? She squeezed his hand and did her best to speak louder than the sound of her pounding heart. “By the stars above and the earth below, I pledge my life to thee. You are my heart. You are my soul for all eternity.” She pressed a kiss to his broad knuckles, glanced out at the smiling guests, then turned back and locked her gaze with Grant’s. “For the good of all, with harm to none, so mote it be.”

Grant leaned in closer, bringing his mouth so close his lips brushed across hers in the gentlest of kisses. “Aye, m’love. So mote it be.”