Page 124 of A Scot on the Rocks

“I love you,” she told him. “I want to stay. I want to see Dunarraidh with a proper roof and walls, and I want to make enough whisky to drive Alasdair mad trying to keep up. I’ve made up my mind.”

The Cailleach waited while Olivia turned toward her. “Will you tell my grandmother?”

“Some words can travel where people cannot.”

Olivia swallowed against the ache in her throat. “Please find a way to tell her I love her. That I found a man she’d approve of and that I didn’t disappear because I wanted to leave her.” She looked at Jamie, then back to goddess. “And tell her I’m happy.”

The Cailleach’s expression softened. “I’ll see that she knows.”

Olivia looked back through the narrowing light and let herself remember the sound of glasses being stacked after closing, the creak of Grandma’s stairs, and the familiar scolding that always meant someone was loved.

Olivia wanted to ask a hundred more questions, but the wind had begun to howl through the ruined arch. The shimmer narrowed, making the distant noises of her own time sound as if they were coming from the far end of a very long tunnel. Then the old woman stepped into the pale light, her blue cloak stirring around her, and both she and the doorway were gone.

The storm broke over Dunarraidh in earnest as Jamie pulled Olivia into the shelter of the western wall, heedless of the rain. They stood there looking at the ordinary stones where the door had been, and Olivia realized she was shaking.

“Ye stayed,” Jamie said.

Olivia nodded, but her smile trembled. “I did. And I’m glad. I’m going to miss her, Jamie. There’ll be days when I miss her so much I’ll be difficult to live with.”

“Then I’ll make ye tea and ask ye to tell me stories about her until ye’re tired of talking. Though if she’s anything like ye, I expect she’ll manage to scold me from two centuries away.”

Olivia caught his coat in both hands and drew him toward her.

He smiled in that wicked, irresistible way of his, and she had time to think that she’d be hopelessly susceptible to that smile when they were both old and gray. Then he kissed her again, drawing her close while she held him tightly. She’d known the pleasure of his mouth against hers since the morning after the raid, but this kiss was different. The choice that had hung over them was made at last, and she felt his happiness in the way he lingered, his forehead resting against hers before he kissed her once more. Rain blew through the archway, the tower bells chimed in the wind, and somewhere behind them Ewan complained that if they planned to spend the entire storm embracing, he was going to the tavern for a hot meal. Olivia laughed against Jamie’s mouth, and his arms tightened around her waist.

“What are ye laughing at, lass?”

“Nothing. I know Grandma would’ve liked you.”

“Even knowing what I do for a living?”

“Especially then. She’d have made you pay for your drinks, though.”

“A hard woman.”

“The best.”

Jamie brushed the wet hair from her face. “And I’ve got the best of her in you.”

She kissed him soundly, and then they ran across the courtyard to the kitchens to stand in front of the fire, their wet clothes dripping onto the stones.

“I ought to warn ye,” Jamie said, lifting her hand to his lips, “I’m no’ giving up my profession simply because ye’ve decided to reform the castle.”

“Reform you? Heaven forbid. I’ve been thinking about the goods sailors bring back on those ships.”

He studied her with growing suspicion. “What goods?”

“Spices. Silk. Gemstones. Things that don’t take up much room in a basket.”

Jamie’s grin returned, wicked and thoroughly familiar. “I believe I’ve married trouble in my imagination already.”

“Then you’d better make an honest woman of me before I give you any more ideas.”

“Aye, lass,” he said, kissing her hand again. “I think I shall.”

Epilogue

OLIVIA