“May I help ye, sir?” A voice asked from behind him.
Kieran froze.
That voice.
He knew that voice.
It haunted his dreams.
All the air in his lungs left in an audiblewhoosh.
He slowly pivoted.
Oh!
And there she was.
Standing beside the gate, a basket filled with potatoes on her hip. A bright spot of color in the determined gray of winter.
“Jamie,” he breathed.
His heart ballooned and swelled until it filled his throat, choking back any other words.
Bloody hellhe had forgotten how much be adored the very sight of her.
A straw bonnet hid most of her dark curls, but her eyes still snapped with life. Freckles dusted her nose and cheeks.
She wore a heavy gray cloak over a printed muslin gown.
He had only seen her in a dress once before—their wedding day.
When aboard ship, she had dressed for her role as carpenter’s mate.
But for their wedding—
“I want to feel pretty, Kieran,” she had whispered to him, eyes glowing with love. “Just for today. Just for a wee while. I want to remember what it feels like to be Miss Eilidh Fyffe. I want to be a bonnie lass marrying her man.”
He had purchased her a gown at a second-hand shop in Sydney—a pretty blue frock that clung to her figure and sent his thoughts tumbling. She had worn it for just a few hours, as they stood before Ewan, a cord wrapped around their hands, pledging their love.
The faded red gown she wore now showed signs of wear, the color bleached and uneven. Moreover, it was too large for her petite frame—a dress cast off by a taller, larger woman.
“Jamie,” he whispered again, taking a step forward, reaching out, his arms aching to hold her.
She frowned and skittered back.
Kieran stopped, hand outstretched.
“Jamie?” he repeated, this time a question. “Jamie Fyffe?”
She shook her head, her brows drawing into a line. She continued to edge away from him, the picketed garden fence separating them.
Kieran paused.
“Jamie Fyffe was my brother.” She licked her lips, darting a look past him to the cottage door, as if gauging the distance. “He is dead.”
Kieran swallowed back the painful lump in his throat.
Gillespie had warned him this would be her reaction.
