Say you’ll marry me, and I’ll open my eyes,he said in her mind again as he coughed. Blood dribbled down the side of his mouth, and her panic started back up.
“Yes,” she said. “Please, Ian. Just open your eyes.”
Ian’s eyes slid open as he grimaced in pain. “You said yes.”
“Only because I thought you were dying,” she said while cupping his face. “You scared me.”
“You love me,” he said and smiled before spitting out more blood.
Approaching sirens sounded in the distance.
“I do love you, you big stupid caveman.”
“I can die a happy man.” He grinned before his eyes rolled back in his head.
Chapter Thirteen
Weeks later,after Michael and Becca discovered that each of them were only seeing half the picture of the kills, they put the pieces together. Michael could fill in the blanks that Becca hadn’t seen, and she could do the same for him. It was when they had started comparing each scene that they realized they had the smoking gun to get Danny charged and convicted of killing Lucy. With the pieces of the puzzle put together, it made one big, condemning picture, including where Danny had his bloody clothes. DNA would do the rest, even though the authorities would never contribute the find to either Michael or Becca. She might have lost a childhood best friend, but she’d gained someone even closer. Michael and herconnection might never be understood, but he was like any one of her sisters. He was family, and she protected and would always be there for her family. No matter what continent she was on.
Becca glanced around the servants standing in front of the stone monstrosity. Ian had his chest bandaged and one arm in a sling while holding her hand. Margarete stood on the other side as all of the McDougall servants crowded the driveway.
There was no question which woman was Ian’s mother. She stood tall and proud in the center, wearing the McDougall plaid.
“I thought you said she was sick,” Becca whispered to Ian.
“Sick and tired of his playboy ways.” Margarete chuckled. “Welcome to the family, Becca Thatcher.” Margarete bumped her shoulder before going to greet her mother.
“You lied to me.” Becca turned toward Ian, ignoring the crowd.
“Aye. I took a bullet for you, fiancée. You wouldnae hurt an injured man, would you?”
Becca crossed her arms over her chest and grinned. “The thought crossed my mind.”
“Come here, child,” Lady McDougall called out, her voice as regal as her stature.
“Was she talking to you or me?” Becca asked.
“You, she would have called me something else entirely.”
“Caveman?” Becca chuckled.
“Worse.”
Ian took Becca’s hand again and walked toward his mother. “This is she, Ma.”
“It’s about time, Ian,” Lady McDougall said. “I thought I was going to have to get on a flight and bribe her.”
Becca tossed her head back and laughed as Lady McDougall wrapped her arm around Becca’s and walked back toward the door. “Come, dear, we have a wedding to plan, and the sooner, the better.”
“Are you afraid I’m going to change my mind?” Becca teased.
“No, dear. Your Aunt Betty called and mentioned you’d be in need of a room for a nursery.”
Becca’s mouth parted as Ian’s laughter echoed around the large open room.
Lady McDougall put her finger beneath Becca’s slack jaw and slipped it closed. “You’re having twins.”
Ian rushed forward and lifted Becca with his good arm, ignoring the bandagearound his chest. His eyes sparkled as he held her gaze. “I love you, Becca Thatcher. I’m ready for you to wear my plaid today.”
