And in that moment Bethie’s misgivings melted away. With Alec to steady her, she walked down the aisle to join her life to that of the man she loved.
Chapter 32
Nicholas looked out the carriage window onto Kenleigh land, felt his blood sing. After all this time, after all these years, he was almost home.
How strange it all seemed—and how familiar. The broad, blue sky. The scent of river, pine forest, tilled earth. The fields lying empty, their bounty harvested and stored away for winter. He’d been born here, raised here. He’d learned to swim, ride, shoot here. Someday he would die and be buried here.
It wasn’t the end he had expected for himself. He had expected to die alone on the frontier, the screams in his mind finally silenced by a chance arrow to the back, the teeth and claws of a cougar, the biting cold of a bitter winter. But Bethie had lifted that fate from him, had broken him open with her violet eyes, soft lips, and generous heart, had brought him staggering from the darkness into daylight.
He turned away from the window, took her hand in his, felt the warm gold of his wedding band heavy upon her finger. She looked up at him, and he could see beyond the smile on her face to the worry that hid behind her eyes.
Nicholas couldn’t blame Bethie for feeling nervous. She’d gone from having no real family to being part of an enormous extended family that bridged two continents. Being loved and cared for by so many people would be a new experience for her, one Nicholas desperately wanted for her.
He leaned down, whispered for her ears alone. “It will be fine, love. You’ll see. My mother will adore you—and Belle.”
She squeezed his hand, and for a moment anxiety showed on her face. “I dinnae want to disappoint you, Nicholas.”
He kissed her forehead. “You won’t.”
Then Belle giggled, drawing her mother’s gaze. Across from them, his father and Jamie entertained the baby, making ridiculous faces, tickling her tummy, nibbling her tiny toes. Almost seven months old, she looked more and more like her mother each day, the same golden hair, the same sweet face, the same violet eyes. Nicholas had already prepared the paperwork necessary to adopt her. Isabelle would be a Kenleigh before the new year.
Bethie laughed. “You’re spoilin’ her. She’ll be the most coddled lass in the county.”
Jamie bounced the baby on his lap. “No, that honor goes to Emma Rose.”
“I’m afraid it’s true.” His father looked so contrite that Nicholas almost laughed. “I find I can deny her nothing. She reminds me so very much of her mother.”
Jamie chuckled. “And that doesn’t terrify you?”
“Indeed, it does. In a few years, I’ll have to keep her under lock and key.”
“How many offers of marriage have you received for her? I’ve lost count.” Jamie helped Belle stand and bounce on her chubby, little legs.
“Seven.”
Bethie gaped at them. “How old is she?”
His father and Jamie answered together. “Nine.”
“Oh, my!” Bethie laughed.
At their words, regret suddenly pressed down on Nicholas. Emma Rose was nine. Alec, William, Matthew, Sarah, and Elizabeth were all married to people he’d never met. They had children of their own, nieces and nephews he’d never seen. They lived in homes he’d never visited.
Jamie and Bríghid had five children, one of whom they’d named in memory of him, never expecting to see him again. Fionn and Muirín, Bríghid’s brother and his wife, had three children and were expecting another soon. Only Ruaidhrí, Bríghid’s restless younger brother, was still unmarried. Now captain of his own ship, he was more often at sea than at home.
So much had changed, and he’d missed all of it.
His father seemed to read his mind. “They’re all here—everyone except Ruaidhrí, of course. They’ve waited so long. They’ve all come to welcome you home, Nicholas.”
And suddenly, as the full weight of what he’d done to all of them hit him, Nicholas wanted to stop the carriage. He needed to breathe, to think, to rein in his emotions.
He felt Bethie squeeze his hand. “Nicholas?”
His father leaned forward, rested a hand on Nicholas’s knee. “It’s going to be fine, son.”
“My God, I’ve been so selfish! I never—”
“None of that matters, son. What matters is that you’re finally home.”
