He looked like James had felt his entire life. Abandoned. Alone. Being needed, he thought, was just as much about giving to those you loved as it was about being invaluable to them.
The preacher finished his toneless rambling and his bible snapped shut with enough force to jolt everyone. They all waited for some movement from Colin, but silence reigned.
It was unbearable. Though he’d spent a lifetime stepping away from his family, James found himself taking a step forward. Then another and another, until he was in front of his brother. Finally, Colin looked up, his eyes haunted. James hugged him tight, wishing he could absorb some of the pain.
He wanted to reassure his brother that it’d be all right, that it’d get better, but he couldn’t guarantee it would so he just willed all the hope and strength he had to Colin.
He knew nothing of suffering, he realized. Nothing of what would make all the pain worth it. His brother knew. If Colin had no regrets in his choice, James wouldn’t have them for him.
In fact, not a few days before, he might have wished never to experience anything that could ravage a man so, but now, he only wished he might love so thoroughly.
“She lived and loved a lifetime with you,” he whispered for only his brother’s ears. “You were right. She wouldn’t have taken the years back any more than you.”
Colin shuddered and stiffened but then wrapped his arms more tightly around James’s back, returning the embrace with enough strength to leave James short of breath.
“I don’t know what to do,” came Colin’s hoarse reply, the words thick with sorrow. “I’m lost without her.”
“You can only do as she would have wanted,” James told him. “And raise your daughter to be just as wonderful as her mother.”
“Thank you, Jamie. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Their embrace lasted a moment more before James let his brother go and stepped back. Colin hardly moved. He just stared down at the hole in the ground, barely nodding as the crowd began to drift away.
* * *
“Jamie?”
“Larena.” He nodded, resisting the urge to dash a hand across his eyes.
He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Some combination of desperation and urgency, as if there was something he needed to do or somewhere he needed to be. Yet it hardly seemed polite to brush Lady Polwarth aside, given their intimate history.
“I understand congratulations are in order on the birth of your son?”
“Yes.” Her features softened and for a moment, she looked happy. “He’s just lovely, really. More than I might have ever imagined. You might think to try it someday, Jamie. You might find you like not being alone all the time.”
Not a word passed his lips, nor what might have been a change of countenance, but Larena had always been more perceptive than many gave her credit for.
“Ah, you’ve discovered that already, have you? Might I hope it had something to do with me?”
The question was a tad catty for a funeral. Was she hoping for him to express regret over how their affair had ended? Or that he let her get away at all? No, he had no right to have anything less than generous thoughts for Larena. And nothing but pleasant memories of their time together. He hadn’t wanted to marry her, though. And even in hindsight, he’d no regrets over the end of their affair.
“I am pleased you’re so happily settled. I am, but no, any epiphanies had on the subject were not because of any doing on your part,” he said honestly. No, as lonely as he’d ever been in his life, she’d hardly been the one to make him understand that he’d had a gap to fill. Only that she wasn’t the filler. “I’m pleased you’re finding joy in your child, though. I, too, have recently found that I like children a great deal more than I’d ever imagined I might. Perhaps someday I’ll have one or two. A family of my own.”
“You’re thinking of marrying, aren’t you?” She gaped at him. “You?”
“More than thinking of it. I’ve met someone who I believe would suit me. Widow with children. A family to begin with.”
“Suit you? I don’t know if that’s any better than the cold promises of the devil, Jamie. Still, I never thought…I never imagined you’d—Perhaps if I’d only waited a while longer, you might have been ready—”
James raised a hand, halting her before she said anything that might embarrass them both. “Nay, Larena. You’re a fine woman and I’ll admit it made my heart ache a mite to lose you, but it never would have happened for us.”
“Never? Why? If you’re ready to wed—”
“It isn’t just the timing of it all,” he interrupted.
It might have been though. In that vulnerable position of wanting something he didn’t yet know the width and breadth of. Something just beyond his grasp, he might have eventually wed Larena if she’d stood her ground. Perhaps they might even be wed these past two years. Her child might have been his. He might have been content.
But content wasn’t what he’d wanted. It wasn’t what he’d found. What hehad.
