A Month Later

They stopped at the kirkyard in Melrose Village before starting off for Glasgow.

Waiting with Cuffe by the carriage, Wynne left Jo to spend some time alone at her mother’s gravesite. She’d brought him here many times while they were at Baronsford. And once they’d returned from their honeymoon, he and Jo planned to bring Charles to the Borders. He wished to visit the place Josephine was really buried.

When he came to the south, he would also have a chance to meet the Pennington family. He was continually improving. The news had reached them only a day ago, however, that Leana Barton had died.

Jo was ready to return to the Highlands if her father needed her, but his letter insisted that they continue with their planned trip. He understood the importance of it for them as a family.

Wynne watched Jo stand and place a farewell touch on the new gravestone they’d had carved. He was relieved to see a smile on her lips as she walked back toward them.

“Are you ready for our adventure?” she asked.

“I still don’t know why I need to come with you two. It’s your honeymoon,” Cuffe complained, following Jo into the carriage. “I can stay with Dr. McKendry.”

“We want you with us,” Wynne insisted, closing the door and sitting beside his wife.

“But I can look after your father for you.” Cuffe turned to Jo, obviously hoping she’d take his side. “Mr. Barton likes me. He asked me to call him Papa. I think I will.”

“You’re coming with us, sweetheart,” she told him.

She’d adjusted quickly into her role as mother of a ten-year-old son. She was stern and yet loving. Strict and yet flexible when the situation warranted it.

“But I’ll miss him.”

“As will I. But we’ll be back soon enough.”

She didn’t wait for any more complaints, but moved across to sit next to Cuffe. She showed him the books she’d borrowed from Baronsford’s library. Wynne watched them put their heads together, arguing or laughing over the passages they read.

By mid-afternoon, Cuffe was back to questioning them about the trip.

“You’re taking me with you and showing no regard for my education or my teachers,” he teased. Cuffe was clearly working on the art of debate. “How is Mr. Cameron going to stay clever with his arithmetic when he has no pupil to teach?”

“I think he’ll manage somehow.” Wynne smiled.

“And Hamish,” the lad said, mimicking the Scottish brogue of the lead man on the farm. “The man’ll have nobody to scold. No laddie to take to task.”

“He’ll get by, I should think,” Wynne remarked.

As Cuffe continued to rattle off the names of all the other people at the Abbey who would miss his company, Jo sent Wynne a pleading look to tell him.

The trip was to be a surprise, but the boy would know their destination once the carriage reached Glasgow’s docks at Greenock.

“All this complaining and not once have you asked where we’re going,” Wynne reminded him.

Cuffe shrugged. “What difference does it make? I’m doomed to travel with newlyweds.”

Jo joined the game. “Very well. Then we shan’t tell you.”

The silence didn’t last a full minute before the ten-year-old’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Are we traveling by ship or by carriage?”

“By ship,” Wynne said.

Cuffe’s brows were drawn together as he studied Jo first, before looking at his father and then back at Jo.

“Are we going to visit the rest of the Penningtons? In Boston or Philadelphia or one of those other places in America?”

Jo shook her head. “Not this time.”

“We’re sailing to the continent to look at paintings and sculptures and snow-covered mountains,” Cuffe guessed, looking pained.

“No, try again.”

An expression of hope edged its way into the lad’s face. He stared at Wynne, waiting, not wanting to ask. “Tell me.”

Jo smiled, nodding to him to continue.

“We are going to be gone for three months,” he said. “Three weeks at sea to get there and five weeks to return. That should give us about four weeks at our destination.”

“Jamaica!” Cuffe squealed, throwing himself into Wynne’s arms. “We’re going to see Nanny.”

Holding his son tight against him, Wynne looked gratefully at his wife. They’d talked about this trip the night of their wedding at Rayneford. They both agreed that if Cuffe was to be at peace with his life in the Highlands, they couldn’t allow him to feel irrevocably separated from his past and the grandmother who raised him.

They’d made a vow that every so often they’d make the journey to Jamaica. And if Nanny was amenable to the idea, she could come and spend time in Scotland, as well.

Cuffe went across to Jo next, and he hugged her affectionately, fiercely.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

She placed a kiss on his forehead and hugged him back.

They were a perfect pair, Wynne thought, gazing at the two people who completed him. He was the most fortunate man in the world, for he had them and they were family.

His family. His life. His love. His past. His future.