“No, dear Heather, but I have many plans for this castle,” Brandon told her, as he released her and glanced down at her belly. “How is the child? Is it dancing still?”
Heather groaned. “It reels from dawn until dusk, though I do not mind it, as long as it is not kicking me in the liver.”
“Come, I have prepared something for you all, before we retire inside,” Brandon urged, taking one of Heather’s arms while Owen took the other. Behind, Sawyer and Edith linked arms and followed, for they had become like family to one another.
Rounding the side of the castle and cutting through overgrown gardens, bordered by spring woodland that was starting to come into bloom, Heather knew where Brandon was taking them. She stayed silent, blinking back tears.
Through a coppice of trees, they followed a winding path that led into a small churchyard. A quaint chapel stood in the center, though Heather could not recall the last time it was used. Still, it was more palatable than the castle itself, for here lay the people she had loved and lost. These were the things she wished she could take with her, but they were the only things she could not: her mother and her brother.
“I thought you would like to see him first,” Brandon confessed, taking them to the family tomb.
Indeed, he had been busy in their absence, for countless tiny candles had been placed along the gloomy steps of the mausoleum and along the weed-strewn pathways, bringing a glow of hope and peace to the otherwise sad place. It looked almost heavenly in the dying light, and one look at Edith confirmed that Brandon had done a wondrous thing.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, clasping her hands together. “Did ye do this for him?”
Brandon nodded. “And for you, Mrs. Spencer.”
“Bless yer heart, Brandon.” Edith walked up to him and placed a gentle kiss upon his cheek.
Smiling, he took her by the arm and guided her into the mausoleum. Heather, Owen, and Sawyer followed them into the stone tomb, where more candles flickered in welcome, transforming the place into an ethereal realm where, maybe, even ghosts could wander among the living.
At William’s part of the tomb, everyone gathered around in a half-circle and closed their eyes, speaking their own prayers to the man they had lost. Owen put his arms around Heather and she rested her head against his shoulder, hoping that her brother could see them, and see how happy they were. It had been six months of bliss, with the promise of blissful decades to come.
We will keep your wife safe, dearest William. We will love her as we love her now. She is our family, now. She will see my child born and become an aunt, and it will be as though you are there, too. I miss you, Brother, but please know that I am well.She opened her eyes and touched her fingertips to the engraving of his name. As she did so, the nearest candles fluttered, though Heather felt no draft.
“He hears us,” Edith said softly, with a fond smile, as tears trickled down her cheeks. “He is happy.”
Heather smoothed a palm over her swollen belly and felt her child kick against her hand. She took Owen’s hand and brought it to the same spot, watching his face light up as the child danced another reel.
“They’ll be strong, and nae mistake,” he murmured. “Just like their Mam.”
Heather chuckled. “I cannot even ride a horse without complaint. Let us hope they are like you, instead.”
“Och, we’ll see.” He pulled her back into his arms, and, as they all stood there together, surrounded by glowing light and listening to the beautiful melody as Edith began to sing, Heather knew it was the closest a mortal could come to Heaven on Earth, where everything was possible and nothing but hope stretched ahead of them all.
The End?
