Her grandmother glanced around at the group and said, “Aye, ’twas the two of us. We had to see you to safety, and Grandsire loves riding Midnight again, even in cold weather. Fear not, you have much happiness coming, Claray.”
Alex Grant said, “I’ll answer all the questions bouncing in so many of your minds. Aye, I’m verra happy to be with Maddie again. So please don’t grieve for me any longer. Celebrate all that you have this Yule season. We brought you together to celebrate one another, so please do.”
Maddie said, “Claray, don’t forget your gifts for everyone.”
Dyna was audibly sobbing, and Thorn thought he could hear more sobs from the group, too, but Claray had a serene smile on her face.
Jennie waved as their image began to disappear. “Love you and miss you both.”
Maddie blew them all a kiss, then leaned against Alex and wrapped her arms around his waist. But then she stopped. “Wait!”
All quieted, anxious to hear what she had to add. “Just remember, we do have the ability to prod our loved ones now and again, so if we nudge you or you feel an inclination to do something, please consider it. We sent Thorn and Claray down the mountain, along with Dyna. The three are stronger for their travels.” Their images melted into the landscape, disappearing with a wave from Maddie.
Thorn wrapped his arms around Claray, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I miss them so much but seeing them together like that makes it better.”
“You have gifts for everyone? What did she mean, sweetling?” Thorn asked.
“Aye, I do. We must go back inside.”
Logan Ramsay, clearly choked up, said, “Proceed, and we’ll all follow. It sounds as if we have some celebrating to do.”
Grant war whoops echoed through the night, and competing Ramsay, Menzie, Drummond, and Cameron whoops rose up too, followed by a gale of laughter.
The rest of the group followed, satisfied that they’d seen all they were meant to see, and spoke quietly of the image and the time of year.
Brenna said, “’Tis such a beautiful picture. I wish to remember them both that way forever. Happy. Connor, you have many to house and feed. Will you be able to squeeze us all in?”
“Of course we will,” Jamie said. “We may have to put a few extra pallets in chambers, but we’ll use all the towers. Claray already knew many were coming, so they’ve been working all day to fill the chambers with extra beds. If we need to, we’ll put extra pallets in the hall for some men. I don’t mind sleeping in the hall with my relatives so the women can have the chambers. We have much wood stored and there are plenty of hunters among us. This will be fun. Something Papa always wished to see, everyone together. ’Twill be a Yule to remember.”
“I’m so glad they brought you here,” Kyla said with a radiant smile. “Mama and Papa were both relaxed and happy. ’Tis what they both deserve. They will always be my angels.”
HIGHLAND HUNTERS
THE THIRD GENERATION
1315
The Scot’s Destiny
Book 4
Another story close to my heart. Maitland and Maeve find each other.
Chapter Four
Maeve still carries a piece of her father’s plaid with her…
The next morn, Maeve stood in front of two gravestones, tears misting her vision. The Grant graveyard was not far from the gates so the guards could always keep watch over the sacred area, which meant she could go there without excessive fear. The large cross carved of the strongest oak tree stood larger than any others.
Laird Alexander Grant, buried in December of 1314, husband to his dearest wife Madeline, sire to twins James (Jamie) and John (Jake), Kyla, Connor, Elizabeth, and Maeve.
She loved how he had insisted she not be identified as an adopted daughter. Her hand went to the fold in her skirt where she carried the small piece of plaid every day. She’d taken a swatch of her sire’s favorite plaid and saved it as a memory of him. Before long, she found herself carrying it with her everywhere she went. She’d sewn folds in every one of her skirts so she would always have that small piece of her father with her.
Her mind often turned to her parents, Maddie and Alex Grant. The clan had lost her mother many years ago, but it had not yet been a year since the loss of her sire last Yuletide. She hadn’t accepted his death yet. She’d barely accepted losing her mother, but losing her beloved Da was too much to handle. Each morning, she woke still expecting to hear his booming voicereach her from somewhere in the castle. Each morning, the grief hit her anew when he was not there.
The crisp air blew stray hairs away from her face, and she watched the leaves on the ground swirling at her feet, thinking of her mother’s love for the patterns they made.
Memories of her parents filled her heart.
