Ghosts of Culloden Moor 30 - MacBean (Darcy)
Page 14
“Aye, I ken. And I hope this does not affect yer disposition for any length of time.”
Trent shook his head and walked away, then back again. “You know what, just forget it. Being the kind, wonderful, generous person that I am. I’m willing to take a step back and let you have the girl.”
Relief flooded Alan. The man had taken it well. Far better than Alan would have himself. “You’re to be commended. ’Tis generous of ye, indeed.”
Trent lifted his hand, fingers splayed into the air. “I know! I know. My generous nature gets me into trouble sometimes, but what with my gay disposition and all, these things are to be expected.”
“Yer taking this verra well, and I’m impressed.” He hesitated, knowing he had to offer the man the chance. “If ye feel ye need to fight me for her, I will completely understand, and am willing to accommodate ye.”
Trent looked horrified. “Fight you? You’d eat me for breakfast. And then for lunch and dinner as well. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’m just going to admit defeat here and now. The girl is unequivocally yours.”
More relief flooded Alan. He’d not wished to fight the man, as he was so much smaller and stood not a chance against him. Trent had already lost Lilith, and he’d no need to humiliate him as well. “Again, I thank ye for yer restraint.”
Trent slapped him on the back. “You’re welcome. But just so you know, I still intend to be friends with her.”
Alan nodded. “That will be acceptable so long as ye acknowledge my claim and honor our marriage.”
“Consider yourself honored.” Trent said the words gravely, and Alan nodded, knowing the other man understood.
“Now, I think I will go and give Miss Celia these flowers to cheer her over the fact that she’s losing the house.”
Alan nodded, knowing the older woman would like to break the good news. “That would be a kind gesture, and you’re not to worry, I’ll make sure that Lilith has flowers of her own.”
“You do that, buddy. You do that.”
Epilogue
Several months later
Alan caught Olivia sliding down the banister and hauled her into his arms, her dark curls flying. “Now, Olivia, remember what I’ve told ye. Yer not to do this unless I’m here to catch ye.”
She giggled. “You are here.”
“So, I am. And I will always help ye fly safely. But ye can only do so when I’m around. Do ye promise? Only when I’m here to catch ye.”
“I promise.”
“And doonae tell yer mother.”
She giggled again. “I won’t.” Olivia smiled at him, enjoying the shared secret.
Alan and Lilith were happily married now. Happy and in love. To Alan’s relief, her parents had fully approved the match and her father gave her away at their church wedding, entrusting her care to Alan. Lilith had teased that he couldn’t give her away fast enough.
The bank had been paid in full, and Herrick House belonged to Miss Celia once more. Life could not be better. The house, both inside and out, was shaping up under his care. He was turning into a pretty good handyman, if he did say so himself. The classes at Home Depot were very enlightening, as were the men who worked there.
They’d turned the place into a bed-and-breakfast, and already two rooms were available and booked several months in advance. Lilith loved the cooking, and assured Alan he was excellent with the guests, telling stories and entertaining everyone who came to stay.
Lilith glided into the room. She wore a blue dress, and it truly set off her long, dark hair. She was expecting a babe, but it was still hard to tell as it was early days yet. Still, her growing figure was an ongoing source of fascination for him. A child of his blood was growing within her. He didn’t like to mention it very often, as he became overly emotional every time the babe was brought up.
Which, of course, made Lilith, Grandma, and Olivia laugh.
“Is everything prepared?” he asked.
“Mm, hmm. The hors d’oeuvres are finished, dinner is warming, and I filled the glass containers with fruit, water, and ice. We’ll set everything out when we get back home.” She glanced around. “I think we’re as ready as we’re ever going to be.”
’Twas still sometimes hard for Alan to believe that he’d a family. He still missed his brothers, and hoped the best for them. He prayed they might have the same chance at life that he was gifted as well.
Caleb Herrick was now buried next to his wife in the cemetery, his murderer’s bones moved elsewhere. On his new headstone, the fact of his murder was listed. Grandma was pretty sure he would’ve wanted it that way.
Grandma sailed down the stairs in a flowing white dress and Lilith smiled up at her. “Oh, you look beautiful!”
Grandma smiled and bowed her head, taking the compliment as her due. “Thank you!”
They were on their way to the church where Grandma was to marry George Porter, the banker. As Grandma had declared, it was time that she married rich. Lilith had laughed long and hard at that. Now that Grandma was rich herself, apparently, it had become an option.
Miss Celia and Miss Olivia headed out the door toward the car. He offered Lilith his arm. “Shall we go?”
“All right, but I’m driving.”
“Nae yer not. Ye drive much too fast.”
“And you drive too slow.” She chuckled. “But I guess that’s to be expected from someone your age.”
He kissed her to close her mouth … well, and to kiss her. Some things were their own reward. “Which is why I always leave in plenty of time.”
All in all, Alan was pleased with himself these days. He’d saved the wee girl, saved the house, and given a ghost his peace.
Daily, Lilith gave him more love than he’d ever envisioned, and he lavished it upon her in return.
He’d just one little chore he needed to finish later this day after the festivities were over.
Life was good.
Alan knocked on the door.
A man answered and even in the darkness Alan could tell he was tall, well-favored, with blond cropped hair. He wished the man sported a weak chin or a paunch, but Alan couldn’t find any signs of dissipation as yet. He detested the knave on sight.
“Does this belong to you?” Alan held up a bit of paper.
The man’s brows drew together as he looked at the paper then at Alan. “Is that my child support check? Where did you get that?”
“It came to the house.”
“Lilith’s house?”
“Aye.”
The man looked sullen. “I suppose you’re Lilith’s new husband?”
“That I am. And I’m here to tell ye I can support my own daughter, Olivia, without yer assistance. We doonae need or want yer money.”
“Seriously?”
Alan’s jaw set hard. “Do I look to be a jesting sort of man?”
The other male studied him in the lamplight off the porch for a long moment, then swallowed loudly. “Look, whatever. I heard you guys found a treasure or something. I won’t send any more money. The state made me anyway, and if Lilith doesn’t complain, then we don’t have a problem. Do we?”
“Just one.”
“One what?”
“One problem. Ye left Lilith with child and abandoned her when she needed ye the most.” Alan grabbed hold of the man’s shirt and jerked him out onto the front lawn. He stumbled to keep his balance. “I’d say ’tis long past time ye received yer comeuppance.”
And then in a methodical, harsh, and deeply satisfying way, Alan thrashed the blackguard soundly, smashing his face, his hard fist repeatedly punching his stomach, and generally giving the man what he deserved.
From time to time the sprat attempted to fight back, threatened him, and even attempted to run at one point.
When he was finished, Alan’s lip curled in disgust as he looked at the man moaning at his feet. “I am willing to let the matter lie if ye take yer punishment as a man ought. If ye get others involved, however, I’ll not consider the matter se
ttled in the least and ye can expect me to visit ye again.”
“I can get a restraining order! I could sue you for this!”
“I’ve nae idea what ye mean, but know this, aught ye do, anything at all that will distress my expectant wife, and I’ll take it out of yer hide. That is my promise to ye, do ye ken?”
The man gulped, looked up, his right eye swollen completely shut. “It’s good. I consider the matter settled. I deserved this.”
“Aye, ye did. Ye should have married the girl. But as I’m glad ye didnae, I’ll let the matter lie as long as we never hear from ye again. Doonae be sending money to the house anymore.”
The man nodded quickly. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
With a nod, Alan strode away.
“So, what?” The man raised his voice to be heard. “You’ll be adopting her then? Olivia?”
Alan shook his head and kept going. “Ach, mon, but you’re a slow one. As I believe I just stated quite firmly, she’s already mine, as is her mother.”
Up next!
Watch for SINCLAIR next!
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Author note:
This is my second book set in Massachusetts. I’ve never been there, but apparently, the place holds magic for me. Boston, then Salem. Hmm. It may be time to plan a family vacation.
Writing about fictional characters can be a funny process. Sometimes when I’m writing a story, characters immediately feel real to me. Other times, there’s not much substance to them and I have to wait until I write a scene where they jump off the page, and then I scrap the beginning and start over.
This time, it wasn’t a scene, it was a conversation. Alan was shocked when he realized Lilith had a child but had never been married. He had a friend who’d anticipated his wedding vows and then died. His friend often wondered what happened to the girl, had agonized over it. Had there been a child? Had she married? Had her husband been kind to her? Anyway, boom, there Alan was in my head. The outrage, the protectiveness, wanting to draw Lilith within his arms and keep her safe. I had him.
With a name like MacBean, he was supposed to be incredibly gregarious. Don’t ask me why, but he was. But when he showed up, it turned out he was shy. Never been around women and never been kissed. Eventually he held the crowd in the palm of his hand while telling stories at the séance, but he couldn’t act that way around women. Especially Lilith.
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m always touched by the fact that the last name of the Highlander is the last name of an actually man who died young upon the moor.
I want to thank everyone for the fan mail and the reviews. I love knowing what I did right, what I did wrong, and knowing the stories I write in my basement are being read and enjoyed somewhere. Thank you!
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