Forget Me Not, My Scottish Love (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 3)

by Allie Palomino

  “Where is my son?” she pleaded, tears falling down her lovely face. “They took him! He looks like this,” she said holding up the doll.

  Cameron jumped back, releasing a bellow of surprise. His eyes were wide and his breath was short.

  Standing before him was the woman he thought gone forever from his cursed life, with green eyes that held her pure immortal soul.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Where is my son?” she whimpered. Abby grasped Cameron’s forearm from where he stood a couple of paces in front of her. She looked at him curiously.

  Cameron looked at Diane, dumbfounded. His gaze slid to Aidan and Keith who wore the same shock on their faces as he imagined he wore on his. He couldn’t speak.

  “Lady Haynsworth, we doona understand. We saw Abigail murdered that day…on the battlefield. Cameron refused to believe her dead, although we knew- or thought we knew. Aidan and I…we saw…” Keith said, his voice trailing off. “And then today, to hear that she threw herself from a window…”

  “We fabricated it all. He was going to marry her off again, to use her as a pawn in his quest for power, money, and influence. Mills approached me, and informed me of everything that had come to pass. Before then, I had believed ye dead, Cameron.”

  Diane looked to Cameron’s warriors surrounding them. They were all speechless and some had even blanched.

  “She isn’t dead,” she repeated, as if they hadn’t heard her and didn’t recognize Abby standing before them.

  “We saw what looked like a sword pierce her,” Keith stammered.

  Diane shook her head. “‘Twas my husband’s man who saw her and thought to end his troubles with Abigail,” she said bitterly. “The men who returned Abigail that night explained that she had been injured by a shallow sword wound, though she still bears the scar. It was hardly shallow.”

  Cameron looked at Abby who was curiously starring up at him. Her eyes showed a mixture of confusion and recognition. She reached her hand out to touch his beard and his stomach flipped.

  She didn’t recognize him because of his damned beard.

  When she touched his beard again, she gave a strangled cry and jumped back, clutching the doll closely. Her eyes were sad and frightened.

  “Abby?” he asked hoarsely, scarcely believing that his wish for her to return from death had actually come true.

  At that moment, he didn’t breathe, move, or blink. He drank in the sight of her. Her hair was still the beautiful blond he knew, and her eyes remained the vibrant green he remembered. Her skin was flawless, creamy, and velvety. She looked hale despite her disheveled appearance.

  “Do not be offended, Cameron,” Diane said, standing next to her daughter and placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. “The night she witnessed your death, at least from what we’ve been able to surmise, was the night her memories tumbled forth from the ambush with Elliot. We were told that her mind had broken permanently, Cameron. I’m sorry. It doesn’t seem as if she’ll regain her mind. She cries for her son and nothing else,” Diane said sadly.

  “Trystan,” Cameron whispered.

  “What?” Diane asked, confused.

  “Our son,” he said louder, looking at Abby. “Our son’s name is Trystan.”

  Abby had been playing with the doll but at Cameron’s loud proclamation of their son’s name, Abby’s face grew horrified.

  “My son,” she cried in anguish. She looked down at her doll mournfully and looked at Cameron. At once, her expression was hopeful. “Do you know him?” she asked. “Trystan, yes, that’s his name. Do you know him? Where is he?”

  Cameron reached out to cup her face but she quickly stepped back.

  “Aye. I know where yer son is, Abigail,” he said, troubled by the thought that she was lost to him, perhaps forever.

  “Take me to him,” she said beseechingly. “We must hurry. My father wants him dead!”

  “I will take ye. Yer father will not hurt him,” Cameron said slowly.

  “Yes he will! He killed my husband! He will kill my son,” she wept, stomping her foot on the ground.

  “I am yer husband, Abigail,” he said, reaching his hand out to her.

  She snapped back and stared at him angrily. “Nay. You’re not! My husband was good and pure. And my son, so like him. My father hates them, hates me! He’ll take my son, too,” she said in a conspiratorial tone.

  “Give me my mount!” Cameron bellowed. Looking at Diane, he asked, “Will ye come with us?”

  Diane smiled. “Aye, Cameron. I am humbled that you afford me that privilege. My place is with Abigail, now. My other children are happy and want nothing more to do with me.”

  Cameron studied her for a moment and nodded.

  “Abigail?” she said, and Abby looked at her. “This man will take us to Trystan,” she explained. “You must ride with him. He shall keep us safe from others, and safe from your father. Do you understand?”

  Abby gave another uncertain glance at Cameron and nodded. She gripped her doll closer.

  Relieved, Cameron helped Diane onto her mount. He turned to Abby and lifted her cautiously and delicately onto his horse. Having settled her, he mounted behind her.

  Cameron looked at Mills.

  “I thank ye, Mills, for all that ye’ve done to help my cause and my wife. I owe a debt to ye.”

  Mills shook his head. “Nay, Laird. I owed ye. It is settled now.”

  Cameron nodded, and turned to his men. Abby gripped his thigh out of fear when the horse moved faster than she was used to. He looked down at her. Slowly, he tipped her face up to his with a gentle finger. His yearning gaze met her distrustful one.

  “Ye are safe with me, Abby. I will never allow anything to hurt ye again.”

  Her gaze lingered on his for a moment before she broke contact.

  Cameron looked up at his men.

  “We will not stop for a respite. On we march, until we reach the holding!” Cameron bellowed the command. Abby jumped and Cameron automatically placed his arms around her waist as he used to. She looked back up at him, curiously, but didn’t try to fidget out of his grasp.

  As they rode, Cameron reveled in the feel of her soft body against his. It was a pleasure he thought he’d never savor again. If this was a dream, it seemed real, and he didn’t want to wake. He felt his aching heart mend again. His injured soul drank the nectar of hers, repairing itself. Even if she remained forever in her broken-mind state, he would love her and cherish her forever.

  Quickly they made their way home, and to the son they both loved and missed.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “I canna believe she is alive,” Alice said, smiling happily with tears in her eyes.

  “I cannot believe that the laird is,” Diane said, smiling in return. “I knew since the day they married that he was for her. He truly is a good man,” Diane said with an intelligent nod to her head.

  “Aye, he’s that. Takes after his father.”

  Diane looked at Abby. “I am sorry for your loss, Alice. Truly, I know the monster my husband was. I wish I’d been braver to face him.”

  Alice patted Diane’s hand. “Ye’re an inspiration, Diane. And, most of all, we love our Abby. She is a wonderful, kind-hearted, intelligent, and strong woman. Those traits came not from her father, but from ye. For that alone, ye did a wonderful duty to her and that is testament to yer own strength.”

  Diane let the pent up tears fall from her eyes and some of the guilt lift off her shoulders. “Your kind words humble me.”

  “They are most deserved.”

  The mothers watched Abby, who sat in front of the hearth. She was irritable and jumpy, not to mention annoyed that the strange man, and that’s what she’d called Cameron, hadn’t brought her son.

  She looked up expectantly when she heard steps descending the stairs.

  “She’s very eager to see Trystan,” Alice said, smiling.

  “Aye, so am I,” Diane said, smiling at Alice and walking to Abby excitedly. �
�‘Tis the first time I’ll see my grandson.”

  Keith was in front of Cameron as they entered the great room. Abby stood immediately, her face horrified and in shock. Her heart rate sped up and her breath came out in pants. She’d only seen Cameron, for Keith blocked the view of the baby.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she yelled, stunned. “Cameron?” she asked, not able to catch her breath. “Cameron?”

  Abby looked around at the family. They were all still recovering from their own shock at having her walk through their door.

  “My father killed you!” she whispered in agony. Still, her breath eluded her. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked at those around her, confused.

  “Nay, my love, I’m here,” he said, his emotions forming a lump in his throat. He found it difficult to speak. He’d quickly used his dagger to rid himself of the beard. She was remembering. He felt a surge of love so profound, he almost fell to one knee.

  Abby stayed unmoving, looking at her husband as he walked towards her. Keith walked over to Amy, who displayed her proud belly. Finally, Abby saw Trystan. He had longer hair than she remembered in her fragmented mind. He was also so much bigger.

  “Trystan?” she asked, her mouth wide.

  Her eyes bounced back from Cameron to her son as she walked forward slowly and cautiously. At the mention of his name, he turned his head towards Abby. He was biting on his fist and when he saw her, he began kicking his legs excitedly.

  “Ma-ma,” he said, and giggled. He took his hand out of his mouth and clapped, looking up at his father. Cameron smiled down at his son and looked at Abby.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, suddenly breathless. “Cameron?” she asked again. “Trystan?”

  Her eyes were wide. They looked everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

  She collapsed on the floor in a dead faint.

  Hours later, she awoke, finding herself in familiar surroundings. She was on their bed, in their chamber. She smiled and stretched.

  What a dream, she thought to herself.

  She looked to her right and saw her husband sleeping with their son on his chest. Trystan was also sleeping. She looked at them for a long while, appreciating them. She prayed to God, thanking him for the blessings given to her. After her prayer, Cameron slowly opened his eyes and gave her a sexy grin that she could have sworn she hadn’t seen in months.

  “Cameron,” she said. “I had the most horrible dream.” She inched closer to him, placing a cupped hand to his smooth cheek. Her sad eyes called to him. “I dreamt that you had gone to battle my father to avenge yours. And when you were on the border, he ambushed you and his men killed you,” she said, her voice strained.

  Cameron placed a finger over her mouth. “Shhh, my love. All that doesna matter now. ‘Twas no dream, sweet Abby. I had gone to battle and yer father had ambushed us. I was felled on the battlefield but I was not killed.” He told her of the events of the past months.

  “I couldn’t explain why Trystan looked older. I’ve missed months of his life,” she said regretfully.

  “We have the remainder of our lives, Abby,” he whispered, leaning in for a tender kiss. She closed her eyes when she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. He touched his forehead to hers gently and smiled.

  “I was dead the past months, Abby, but now I am renewed with life. Dear Lord, how I missed ye,” he said passionately.

  She smiled warmly at him, rubbing his cheek. “I’ve missed you, Cameron. In my mind, you were dead and my son gone, taken. It was too much to bear.” Her eyes widened as a thought struck her. “My brother, Harold. What if he seeks retribution?”

  “Nay, I doona believe he will. He was absent when I returned to seek vengeance for ye and my father. Harold, I was later informed, didna want his father to mar his title or future relations with others. Though Harold was not unlike Haynsworth, he has the good sense not to challenge those better than him.”

  She smiled at his arrogance. “I love you,” she said, her face softening in wonder and elation. She ran her hand down Trystan’s head who stirred awake.

  “I love ye, Abby,” Cameron responded, watching his son struggle to sit up. Abby sat up as well, and Trystan threw himself at her.

  “Ma-ma,” he said, smiling at his accomplishment. He laughed. “Ma-ma,” he repeated.

  “‘Twas his first word,” Cameron said and on second thought, added, “It is his only word.” Cameron tried to look offended and Abby laughed.

  “He began saying it after the battle. It was painful, Abby, ye’ve no idea. I yearned for ye, my love. Every day I kept our son close to me, not letting him out of reach for long. If I would have lost him, I know that I would have lost myself. And every day that I looked into his precious eyes, I saw yers. Yer beautiful and pure soul stared back at me through those eyes of his. They believed ye dead. What Keith and Aidan witnessed was convincing, but my soul knew better. My heart beat every day with a heaviness that made it difficult to continue. I knew that ye still lived, sweetness. I felt it in my soul.”

  “How?”

  “If ye had died, I would have, too. Ye are a part of me, Abby. My blood is yers. My heart beats for ye and ye alone. My soul mourns for ye when ye’re nay near like a wounded animal. When I was told that ye’d thrown yerself from a window, I nearly lost all reason. I have been bestowed many blessings, the greatest of which are here with me now.”

  Touched, she leaned down and kissed Cameron with Trystan still in her arms.

  “Our family,” she said, laughing. “How blessed I am! And now my mother is here, safely. I’ve a feeling that she will at last be at peace here.”

  Cameron kissed her and said, “Aye. She will be at peace and so shall ye. At last, my soul and heart will rest easy.”

  They played with Trystan, not caring about the time or the hours they spent alone. When at last Trystan fell asleep, they placed him down in his bed. Walking back, Cameron pulled her into his arms.

  “I’ve missed ye,” he said, kissing her with the passion of a man who’d thirsted for water after years without.

  “How much?” she asked, huskily. The need was rising in her, too.

  “Words are a sore replacement for the activity.”

  Cameron kissed her passionately and breathlessly, as both fell onto the bed. They hurriedly tore their clothes off, never breaking the searing kiss.

  And with his actions, he showed her just how much he’d missed and loved her.

  Epilogue

  He proudly watched his wife and son as they laughed and played in the field. His son had just recently learned how to walk and no one could keep up with him, much less his wife.

  Cameron reflected on his life for a brief moment.

  Life was indeed odd.

  It took twists and turns one never expected. For him, they were hidden blessings. If he would have been told years ago that he would be married to the girl that he’d saved from the ambush, who turned out to be the daughter of his most hated enemy, he would have thought the person mad.

  He shook his head now, knowing how foolish that thought was. He would have never known the pleasure of a wife and children. He would have never known true contentment. Alexander, for all that Cameron had dragged his feet, had indeed given him the greatest gifts a man could have.

  Every day, without missing one, he prayed and gave thanks for his wife and child. He said words of gratitude not only for having been given one opportunity at happiness, but for two. Through the dark months he was separated from his beloved wife, he’d prayed for her to return and his prayers had been answered. Now, with every step and every action he took, he showed his gratitude.

  He watched as a very curious and energetic Trystan let go of Abby’s hand, walking, then running, awkwardly on wobbly legs. She began laughing and Cameron swore that the clouds parted and the sun came out at that precise moment. She called for their stubborn son, but Trystan was happily running away. They heard his giggles trail behind him as he ran. After her demand that he r
eturn fell on deaf toddler ears, she finally turned her frustrated face to Cameron. Cameron’s breath held and the wind picked up slightly. Abby’s magnificent hair blew in the wind and the sun radiated off her ethereal skin.

  She was magnificent, beautiful, wholesome- his life.

  Cameron quickly stood, knowing that look on his wife’s face. As of late, she had been extra moody and temperamental. He knew better than to challenge her, though. Warrior, laird, man- it didn’t matter. He’d faced the most gruesome opponents and none of them compared to his wife in a tizzy.

  She tapped her foot on the ground and placed her hands over her rounding belly, giving him the face.

  “I believe he came out with yer temperament and stubbornness, husband,” she said, as he passed her to get his fleeing son. Cameron picked Trystan up and tossed him in the air playfully. Trystan giggled hysterically.

  “My temperament?” he asked, as he rejoined her.

  “Aye,” she said, staring up at her husband.

  “Ye’re right,” he agreed eagerly, watching her closely.

  “I hope the next one,” she said and paused for effect. He didn’t expect to hear these words when she said, “turns out the same.” She began laughing and he smiled at her.

  Who was he to argue with his expecting wife?

  As she was always quick to point out, and as he was always ready to agree, women were always right.

  Especially when she was carrying your child.

  About Allie

  Since I was old enough to read, I've been imaging far away places with intriguing characters and happy endings. I love to create interesting heroes and heroines, and the worlds they live in. I often joke that if it were not for the fact that I love to write, I would be worried about the many voices in my head vying for domination to get their stories told. Scenes come at me from nowhere and everywhere, and the characters take it on, rolling with their dialogue. I'm simply a spectator as they converse.