The Highlands
Several Months Later
Chapter 27
To her joy, Max had done as she asked and told her his story again. She’d remembered most of it, much to his shock. She’d asked particular details about Tommy and when her husband spoke of him, tears had filled her eyes.
Tears seemed to often fill his eyes now and it appeared to be doing him a world of good.
It truly amazed her, the depths of Max. But more so, it relieved her that he had chosen to make her a part of all his life. She wouldn’t let him or his trust down. Now, she could be his equal companion and there was little else she could ask for.
When the time had finally come to inquire about her brother, it had been deeply difficult.
Once the question had been uttered, Max had grown very quiet.
In that moment, she’d known her husband was trying to protect her from more pain. But life could not be entirely shielded from pain. No, life was a series of hills and valleys, of joys and sufferings and so, she had looked Max in the eyes and very firmly instructed him to tell her the truth.
It seemed that upon achieving his desire, his revenge, it had not given Hamish the satisfaction he had hoped. She’d recalled the look of horror in his eyes when the lead ball had struck her flesh.
He had always been a child, not truly believing that consequences could truly affect him. But this time. . . this time, he must have felt the force of his actions.
His body had been found in the Thames, a matching ball to the one that had struck her, in his heart.
It was why she stood now with her husband in the Highlands. The wild, sea air whipped in from the coast, wrapping them in its familiar, playful embrace.
Not far away was the castle she and Hamish had grown up in.
There was no chance of him being buried by the kirk with their parents. And perhaps, Hamish’s soul had always been too wild to be content there. So, she had picked the most beautiful ben, looking out over the sea loch to be his resting place.
The mound of stones covering his body would mark his presence just as the ancient cairns had marked the old ones. Few would come to say goodbye. But she would never forget the little boy who had held her hand, who had crept into her bed when he was afraid of the dark, or who had offered her his toys when she, too, felt fear in their ancient home.
That little boy was gone and she would honor him now. She would honor him always, and mourn the loss of him.
She took the thistle, the symbol of Scotland and even of herself, and she gently placed it on Hamish’s grave.
He could be hurt by no one now, especially not his own imaginings. And she prayed with every fiber of her being that he would find peace, wherever his soul had gone to rest.
Once the flower found its spot amidst the stones, she turned to Max who waited patiently. And then he reached for her hand which she happily gave.
The touch of him sustained her in a way nothing else could. His strength strengthened her, and in their suffering they had grown together. Though there had been much sadness, joy had come into their lives, too.
As they walked down the ben together, the first touches of spring upon the hill, with the heather promising to bloom purple soon, she touched her belly, and thought of the new life there.
The pain of the past was done and it was time to make way for the possibilities of their future. Yes, it was time for them both to embrace all that their new life together would bring. And she could not wait.