Page 72 of Loving Her Lonely Highlander

“I still canna believe that bastard got away with pleading mental.” Gracie clenched her teeth as she fluffed the wreath’s ribbons into fuller bows.

“Leastways he got life at that facility,” Lonnie said. “And he did sound awful barmy at that hearing.” He nodded down at the white-capping waves crashing into the rocks at the base of the cliff. “’Twas kind of a nice lie he told, though. ’Bout Lorna diving off into the arms of the mirrie dancers that night. Ye ken how she loved her northern lights.”

“And they never found her,” Cybil added. She crossed herself while peering down at the rocky spires stretching their razor-sharp fingers up through the sea’s froth. Then she lifted her gaze to the wispy white clouds skittering across the pale blue sky. “Mayhap she did fly away into their magic.” She offered Gracie a sad smile. “She wouldha loved doing that. Ye know she would.”

“Aye.” Gracie swallowed hard. “That she wouldha.” She unfastened her favorite pin, a bright red enamel poppy, from her lapel and secured it to the center of the main bow on the wreath. “When she finds this, she will know we still love her and miss her something fierce.”

“And that we will never forget her,” Lonnie said, swiping at tears. He pulled a small golden cross from his pocket and wired it to the wreath. “May God watch over her wherever she may be.”

“Aye,” Gracie said. “God bless her and keep her.” Then she closed her eyes and threw the wreath out over the sea. The wind caught it before it hit the water and carried it out of sight.

“Angels are taking it to her,” Cybil whispered.

“I hope so,” Gracie said. She turned and plodded back to the car, aching for the best friend she had ever known.

*

January 2, 1623

The Mirrie Dancer Cliffs near Thursa Castle

“This is whereI woke up…so to speak.” Lorna snuggled deeper into the furry hood of her cloak, squinting against the brightness of the wintry sun glinting off the snow. She crunched through the icy crust of the drifts as she made her way to the top of the cliff. “’Tis beautiful, aye? The best spot to watch the northern lights.” As they neared the top, a flash of red and green at the crag’s edge caught her eye. “What is that?”

“I dinna ken.” Gunn held fast to her arm. “Wait here while I see.”

“Yes, dear husband.”

He gave her a good-natured glare. “Dinna use that tone with me, my precious mouse. ’Tis my duty to protect ye.”

That made her smile. A warm sense of contentment filled her. She was happier than she ever thought possible. As he reached whatever it was lying in the snow, he leaned over and frowned down at it before picking it up.

“What is it?” She hurried to his side, unable to stand it any longer. As she laid eyes on the lovely wreath of her favorite roses, she lost the ability to breathe. Without a word, she took it from him, touching the blooms with sad reverence. Tears blurred the image of the enamel poppy pin she had bought for Gracie so long ago. And that golden cross. The one Lonnie always carried in his pocket to protect him from his sins. She hugged the arrangement to her chest, bowed her head, and wept.

“Lorna?” Gunn wrapped an arm around her and gently pulled her closer. “What is it? Do ye ken who left it here?”

“I do,” she whispered.

“Why did they not bring it to the keep? Visit with ye?”

Struggling to speak through her sorrow, she shook her head. “Because they couldna find the way.”

He gently brushed the tears from her cheeks, his expression reflecting her grief. “When ye say they couldna find the way…” His voice trailed off, but his meaning was clear.

With trembling fingers, she traced the gold outline of the poppy pinned to the heart of the largest white bow. “Aye. My friends wouldna ken how to make their way here any more than I did when I came. They were the only family I ever had back in my time.”

“We shall set a cairn here,” Gunn said quietly. “And torches that shall be kept burning bright each night.” He gently hugged her closer. “That way, if they ever find a way to join ye, they willna arrive to darkness.” When she didn’t answer, he lifted her face to his. “But swear ye will never use this place to try to return to them, aye? I couldna bear it.”

She stretched on tiptoe and brushed a tender kiss across his lips. “I will never leave ye,mo ghràidh. Ye are my home, my heart, my all.”

“As ye are mine, m’love. As ye are mine.”