“Ye speak of the pain of death.” He recognized it as surely as he recognized his own suffering. “Grief never retracts its claws. We must simply learn to live with it.”
“I’m trying,” she said softly while frowning down at her plate. “But a parent should never outlive their child. It isn’t the natural cycle of life.”
“No. It is not.” He wanted to ask about her child, but wasn’t certain if he should. “Any time a child is ripped from its parents’ arms, it is a cruel and unbearable thing.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “You lost a child, too?”
“Not by death.” He wouldn’t pretend that what had happened to him had been as terrible as what she had obviously experienced. “When my wife died while giving birth to my twin sons, her family, out of their hatred for me, stole them away. My sons think I am dead because I’ve only been able to watch them from afar.”
“That’s terrible. Could a lawyer not get them back? You’re their father.”
“Where I am from…” He struggled to choose his words carefully. Mairwen had warned that Calia did not believe in magic. “It is complicated, lass. I have been trying to get them back for years.”
“I am so sorry.” She set aside her plate, then hugged a pillow to her middle. “Cancer robbed me of my baby,” she whispered, then swiped at a tear as it escaped down her cheek. “I only had a precious seven years with my little Gillian.”
“I am sorry for yer pain as well, lass.” He wanted to take her into his arms, but sensed their current connection was too fragile. “I know it will bring ye no comfort, but where I am from, we believe when a child dies, they are still with us, guiding us along life’s path.” Then he slowly shook his head. “But that is not the same as having them here and watching them grow and thrive.”
“No. It’s not.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“How long has it been?”
“Since?”
“Aye, since she left ye.”
She frowned as if struggling to remember. “Two years now.” Then she huffed a soft laugh that held no humor. “It still hurts as if it were yesterday. I can manage it as long as I stay busy. Settling everything after the divorce and then the move here kept me occupied.” She pulled in a breath and released it with a weary sigh. “But now I’m wondering if the quiet peacefulness of this place might be a mistake.”
Divorce. So the father of the child still lived, but he and Calia were no longer wed.
“Good. She is ours,” Dubh said.
Mathison agreed wholeheartedly. “Give Scotland a chance, lass. The Highlands have healed many a broken soul.”
She adopted a strained smile and wrinkled her nose in such an endearing way; he wished he could kiss it. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your meal. I don’t usually whine about my life to complete strangers.”
“We are not strangers, lass.” He willed her to read the veiled truth of his words. “We are two lost souls meant to meet so that we might help each other heal.”
She stared at him for a long moment, narrowing her eyes as if sizing him up and deciding on his worth. “You are a nice man, Mathison Shadowmist.”
“And ye are a fine lady.” One that he needed more and more as each moment passed.
Lightning exploded, and thunder crashed. The cottage trembled with the force of the storm.
Otto jumped into Calia’s arms and buried his face in her lap.
She hugged him close and rocked him as if he were a babe. “It’s okay. I’m right here. Nothing will hurt you.”
Watching from his chair next to the couch, Mathison wished he’d shifted to his wolf so he could join the dog in Calia’s embrace. But it was too late. If he changed forms now, Calia would never trust him again.
She kissed her dog on the top of his sleek head, then looked up and smiled. “The shelter said storms always terrified him. I feel so bad for what he must’ve been through before I came along.”
“He’s verra lucky to have ye.”
“Do you have any pets?”
“No. I spend a great deal of time roaming the land. Horse and I would have no way of taking proper care of a pet.”
“Horse?” She arched a brow. “You roam the land with a horse instead of a car?”
