Through the arched windows of the great hall, I could see Alec leading Austin, Rome, and Paris across the lawn toward the stables. At ten years old, Alec had appointed himself official tour guide for his American siblings, showing them the secret passages and hidden rooms of the castle with growing confidence. The change in him over the past months had been remarkable—from the sullen, angry boy who had resented our relationship to a thoughtful, engaging preteen who seemed to have found his place.
“Alec’s taking them riding,” Patrick said, following my gaze. “He’s really coming back to himself, don’t you think?”
“He is,” I agreed. “This place is good for him. For all of them.”
The sound of laughter drew my attention to the far corner of the hall, where Michael and Shelly sat with their boys, playing some sort of card game. Shelly seemed to glow from within, her hand often resting protectively on the swell of her belly. They had announced just last week that they were expecting a girl, to be named Rose.
“Lunch is served in the garden when you’re ready,” Mrs. Kowalski announced, appearing from the direction of the kitchens. She seemed happy to be back in the castle, quickly re-establishing a working relationship with the small staff Patrick maintained here. “I’ve set out a proper Scottish picnic.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kowalski,” I said. “We’ll round them up.”
As she turned to go, a small blur of motion shot past her—Eoin, with Maggie toddling determinedly after him. Mrs. Kowalski scooped up Maggie with practiced ease, barely breaking stride.
“I’ll take this one,” she said over her shoulder. “Mr. Eoin, kindly slow down before you break something irreplaceable.”
Patrick chuckled as they disappeared toward the garden. “She’s mellowed, hasn’t she?”
“Remarkably so,” I agreed. “Though I think having a proper staff to command here has helped. She gets to be the general without having to do all the work herself.”
“Delegating suits her,” Patrick said. He shifted Xander to his other arm and wrapped his free arm around my waist, pulling me and Sean against his side. “Happy, Mrs. McCrae?”
“Deliriously.”
We made our way through the castle and out to the gardens, where tables had been set up on the lawn. The older kids were already gathered, filling plates with sandwiches and fruit while Mrs. Kowalski supervised.
After lunch, Patrick gathered them for what had become a daily ritual during our stay. “Who wants to explore the battlements?” he asked.
A chorus of excited voices answered him. Even Alec, who had initially pretended to be too cool for such excursions, joined in eagerly.
“I’ll take the twins for their nap,” I offered. “Join you in a bit?”
Patrick nodded, leaning down to kiss me before leading his band of explorers toward the stone staircase that wound up to the top of the castle’s highest tower.
I settled the twins in the nursery that had been set up for them, singing softly until their eyes drifted closed. Then, leaving the baby monitor with Mrs. Kowalski, I made my way up to the battlements.
The view from the top was breathtaking. Rolling green hills stretched in every direction, dotted with sheep and bisected by a winding river that glittered in the afternoon sun. In the distance, purple mountains rose against the sky, their peaks shrouded in mist.
Patrick stood with the children gathered around him, pointing out various landmarks on the McCrae lands. “That forest there has belonged to our family for over three hundred years,” he was saying. “And beyond it, you can just see the old stone bridge where my grandfather used to take me fishing.”
“Will you take us fishing there?” Rome asked eagerly.
“Of course,” Patrick promised. “Tomorrow, if the weather holds.”
I stood back, watching them. Austin and Alec at the front, listening intently. Rome and Paris asking questions. Brody making careful notes in the small notebook he carried everywhere. The twins, Carson and Cory, peering through thecrenellations at the sheep below. Even Blaze and Fury were absorbed in Patrick’s stories.
This was it, I realized. This was the legacy that mattered most. Not CarideoTech, though I was proud of what we had built there. Not the McCrae fortune or lands. But this family—this large, loud, complicated, wonderful family we had created together.
I crossed the battlements to join them, slipping my arm around Patrick’s waist. He smiled down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way I loved.
“And what do you think of your Scottish castle, Mrs. McCrae?” he asked, his voice teasing.
“It’s not bad,” I replied with a grin. “A bit drafty, perhaps. And definitely haunted, if Eoin is to be believed.”
Patrick laughed. “He’s convinced he saw the ghost of my great-grandfather in the library.”
“Did he?” Austin asked, his expression serious.
“Probably just the wind moving the curtains,” Patrick said. “Though there are plenty of stories about the ghosts of Eidheann.”
