Morna's Legacy 04 - Love Beyond Measure

by Bethany Claire

  I could just see his face in the doorway, and I couldn’t help but think how likely it was that his towel had dropped already. “Aye, I’d love that, lass.”

  Smiling, he shut the door to me. Taking a breath to regain some sense of composure, I went down to the kitchen.

  *

  I spent the entire length of our salted cracker lunch apologizing at regular intervals for our lack of food choices. “You’re going to be starving by dinner. I truly am sorry. It’s as if she cooks her meals with magic. Seriously, I don’t understand it. She’s always cooking, but she has nothing in her cupboards. It’s…” I truly had no word for it, “astonishing.”

  “Grace,” he reached out and squeezed my hand, holding it long enough to quicken my pulse. “If ye apologize once more, I willna eat another bite. ’Tis no yer job, nor Morna’s, to see me fed.” Winking, he popped another cracker into his mouth.

  I watched him eat, observing him closely. He lifted every cracker with his left hand, leaving his right arm hanging at his side. He did such a good job of compensating with his left arm that I’d not noticed how little he used his right. Still, something about the way he gripped things seemed a little unnatural, and I ventured a guess that he was actually right-handed. “You write with your right hand, don’t you?”

  The left corner of his mouth lifted and he shifted to face me. “Aye, and thankfully I still can do so, as long as I doona move me elbow too much. When the sword came down, it cut me deepest right along me shoulder muscle,” he paused, lifting his left hand as he traced one of his fingers along the red line, showing me its path. “Then, it hit me bone and turned, traveling underneath and along me ribs. ’Tis made me right shoulder difficult to move, but Morna says it will heal eventually.”

  My eyes bugged nearly out of my head. Whatever I’d imagined as the cause of such an injury, I’d not considered a blade—a piece of machinery perhaps, but not a weapon. “A sword?”

  “Aye, a mighty large one.” He took a long look at my face, observing my look of shock. “Doona worry, lass. He’s dead now—the man who did it.”

  He said it so dismissively that I couldn’t help but swallow a laugh. He seemed to believe that I wondered more about whether the man who’d assaulted him was dead or alive, than why in hell someone had come at him with a sword in the first place.

  Just as I opened my mouth to ask, he spoke again, changing the conversation entirely.

  “I’m sorry if I frightened ye. Ye thought yerself alone, aye?”

  “Yes, I did, but there’s no need to apologize.”

  He nodded in acknowledgement of what I said and blew a long strand of unruly hair out of his face with his lower lip. He did it often, and I found myself wondering if months of being unable to lift his right shoulder had left him less groomed than he’d like.

  “Would you…” I hesitated, hoping I wasn’t about to over-step. “Would you like me to cut it for you?” I pointed to the curly strand. “You sometimes act like it gets in your way, or I could at least pull it back?”

  He glanced up, his eyes crossing as he made eye contact with the annoying strand. “If ye doona mind, but I wouldna wish to take ye from yer work.”

  “Ah,” I waved a hand dismissively. “I’m done with that for now. This seems more urgent.” I reached both hands up, slipping my fingers into his red locks, messing his hair around to get a feel for how it needed to be cut.

  I’d cut Cooper’s hair his whole life. Although their shade was different, the texture of their hair was very much the same—curly and, although not frizzy, the shiny curls on both men were not easily ruled, bouncing out of place at their whim. His neck relaxed as I played with his hair, and his eyes closed in pleasure. Men often didn’t get to experience how lovely it felt to have their hair properly messed with.

  “If ye insist, I doona have it in me to argue.”

  “I do. You’ll feel much better when you get some of this off your neck.” I stood and moved to stand behind him, lifting the hair at the base of his neck. He lay his head back in my hands, and I massaged his scalp as I gathered the strands. “Do you always keep your hair long?”

  “Hmm…?”

  His head relaxed so that I looked down at his face from above him, and he smiled as his eyes flickered open.

  “What did ye ask me, lass? By God, that feels good, Grace.”

  “Yeah, a good head massage always does. I asked if you always keep your hair long.”

  “Oh, aye, but do what ye wish with it. I doona much care.”

  His eyes closed again, and I laughed, tugging on a strand at the base of his neck. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me. It’ll be hard for me to cut your hair that way.”

  He reached his left hand up and grabbed my fingers, bringing them to rest in his hand and on his shoulder, “Oh, doona ye worry, I am verra, verra awake. ’Twould be impossible for me to sleep with yer hands on me.”

  I pulled away, pleased for the moment that his eyes were closed so he couldn’t see my heated face. “Stand up and let’s move your chair into the bathroom. I don’t want to trim your hair over the carpet.”

  He did as I asked. Once he was vertical, I dragged his chair along onto the tile floor, surprised to find a pair of scissors resting in a small basket on the bathroom sink, along with wrapping cloths, washcloths, and a large jar of a homemade salve. “What’s all this?” I asked as Eoghanan joined me, sitting down in the chair, immediately leaning his head back into my open hands.

  “’Tis what Morna applies to me wound each day. Makes it herself.”

  “Up you go.” I lifted his head and turned on the faucet, wetting my hands so that I could run them through his hair, re-wetting the strands so I could comb them through. “Have you been doctored today, yet?”

  “No. I shall do it meself once ye have finished.”

  I examined his scar as I combed his hair. It would be a messy job if he tried to apply the salve himself, and I imagined it wouldn’t feel good on his shoulder. “No. I’ll do it when I’m finished.”

  “There’s no need. The sight of me naked from a distance scared ye half to death. I doona wish to make ye see it more closely.” He laughed a little, but there was a question in his statement.

  With his head sufficiently wet and combed, I picked up the scissors and set to work, one curl at a time. “The only reason I turned away was because I’d not expected to find you naked, not because it hurt my eyes to look at you. Quite the opposite actually.”

  I couldn’t hide the heat that spread up my neck this time, not with him staring up at me from the mirror. I’d truly meant to keep that last sentence inside my head and inwardly I grimaced. What was it about him that made me blurt things out without thinking?

  I glanced up to see both corners of his mouth quirk a bit, trying to hold back a smile, but as soon as he caught my attention he let it loose. “Aye? Is that so, lass?” He twisted in his chair to look over his back at me.

  Deciding there was no way to answer without embarrassing myself further, I placed my hands on either side of his head and twisted him back around to the front. “Unless you want to end up bald, I suggest you quit squirming in your seat.”

  He laughed loudly but obeyed, stiffening his shoulder as he sat up straight. “As ye wish, lass. As ye wish.”

  Chapter 10

  Eoghanan woke the next morning energized in a way unfamiliar to him. Lying with his eyes still closed, he reveled in it—the newness of the feeling of a good night’s sleep. Instead of waking on edge, his jaw clenched and shoulders tight, he woke to find a pleasant numbness radiating down his body. His shoulders loose, his mouth still wide from sound sleep. He usually never slept more than a few brief moments each night, waking often with his mind churning.

  He’d not always been that way. As a young boy, still free and naïve of life’s inevitable woes, he’d been able to sleep until the sun was far into the sky each day. The night of Osla’s death, his brother Baodan’s first wife, everything changed for him. Unable to sav
e her, an impenetrable sense of failure and guilt settled over Eoghanan. Impenetrable, until now.

  While the blade Niall had run down his body nearly killed him, it had also saved Eoghanan in ways he was just beginning to see. Without such an injury, he would never have journeyed to this strange time. He would never have met Grace.

  Her presence here was no accident, of that he was now certain. Morna had lied to him before, when she’d said she didn’t control where he went on his travels. She was too much of a matchmaker and the coincidence too strange to explain Grace’s arrival at the small inn otherwise. The old witch had shown him the lass for a reason. Eoghanan couldn’t help but hope it was to fulfill some missing piece of his soul.

  For over seven years, he’d shut out any possibility of love for another woman, paying a silent penance for sins that weren’t his own. Now that his brother knew the truth and his burden had been lifted, he was free to start his life anew. Free to become the man he’d once been, a man filled with passion, desire, and love. All of the things he’d denied himself for far too many years.

  With his eyes still closed, he listened to Grace’s voice near him and smiled. She stood outside his door, chattering so quickly he couldn’t understand a word of what she said. He was content to simply listen to the rhythm of her voice.

  Just thinking of her pushed away any remnants of sleepiness that remained. He couldn’t remember the last time a lass stirred such a desire in him, and she desired him as well. Whether she intended to or not, she’d all but admitted as much to him.

  Swinging his feet over the side of the bed to stand, he suddenly recognized the sound of his own name muttered amongst Grace’s quickly spoken words. Moving silently across the floor, he pressed his ear against the door, anxious to hear what she said about him.

  “What?”

  Grace’s voice sounded shocked. He waited for whomever she spoke with to repeat their question. When none did, he realized she spoke to the telephone—an odd contraption Morna had spent the better half of an hour trying to explain to him with little success. He couldn’t understand the need to reach someone so immediately, unless to bring news of a death or threat thereof. Still, he pressed his ear closer, hoping to learn enough from Grace’s side of the conversation to gain its meaning.

  *

  “What?” I laughed, more from shock than my thinking her funny. It couldn’t have been a serious question.

  “You heard what I said. I asked if you’d let him bury the bone yet?” My sister snorted as she asked the question a second time, pleased at her own juvenile wittiness.

  “Ok, first of all, of course I haven’t. And second of all, eww. Please don’t refer to sex that way ever again, Jane.”

  “Goodness, it is so easy to get a rise out of you, Grace.” Jane laughed loudly into the phone, and I could imagine her delighted smile.

  “All I said was that there was someone else staying at the inn with me and Cooper. He…” I stuttered. It only made sense that Jane would come to the conclusion that something was going on between Eoghanan and me. Why else would I bring him up? It’s not as if it was unusual for operating inns to have more than one guest at a time. I’d simply found myself wanting to talk about him, to discuss him with someone who wasn’t five years old. “He seems very nice is all. Cooper really likes him.”

  “Hmm…” Jane waited a moment, presumably hoping I would say more. When I didn’t, she continued. “Cooper, likes him huh? It isn’t Grace that likes him? Are you telling me that not even a small part of you wants to see him naked?”

  I smiled, unable to repress a grin at the memory of him standing gloriously nude in his bathroom. “I didn’t say that. Maybe it’s not just Cooper that likes him. And actually, I’ve already seen him naked.”

  The guffaw-ey gasp that came from the other end of the phone made me immediately regret the admission.

  “What? I thought you said you hadn’t slept with him.”

  A sudden thump against Eoghanan’s door caused me to murmur a quick, “Hang on just a sec,” before throwing the phone down next to its base. I cautiously rested an ear against Eoghanan’s door, listening for any movement. Obviously, he still slept. If he’d been up, I knew there was a chance he could have heard me. I was literally half a foot away from his door. Breathing a sigh of relief, I stepped away, picking up the receiver once more to continue my explanation. “I didn’t sleep with him. I walked in on him about to take a shower. Jerked away so fast, I tripped over the edge of his bed.”

  More laughter. “So…what did he look like? Good, I’m guessing since you flipped out.”

  As ridiculous as it was, my knees became a bit watery at the memory. “A-m-a-zing.” My sisters were the only people who could get me to revert from the full-grown mother I was today to the boy-crazed teenage girl I had once been. Of all my sisters, Jane was especially talented at this.

  “Well then, get you some of that action. That would be such a great story to carry back with you when you come home.” She changed her voice in a very poor attempt to mimic my own. “You see, I was going to marry Jeffrey, my very best friend in the whole world, but then I came to my senses and fled the wedding. I flew to Scotland the very next day for work. While I was there, I had a wild fling with a native Scot.” She dropped the mimic, back to being Jane. “I’m serious, that’s an awesome story. One to tell your grandkids one day.”

  I ran a hand through my hair in exasperation. “No grandkid ever wants to hear about their grandmother’s wild fling, Jane. Ever.” Glancing at my watch, I decided it best that I direct the conversation to the whole reason I called so I could get back to work. “Besides, we seem to have gotten very side-tracked here. I just wanted to check in on Mom and Father. On a scale of one-to-ten, just how angry is he?”

  She paused—evidently it was a ten. “I don’t know. Maybe…maybe like an 8.75.”

  It was a very ‘Jane’ answer. “8.75?”

  “Yeah. I mean, he really didn’t get as angry as I expected, but once we noticed you were gone, I expected that he’d literally turn into some sort of dragon and just burn the hell out of everybody. He didn’t. He’s still human, so yeah, less angry than I expected. He’s still very, very pissed though. It was weird, like a small part of him expected it. That being said, I cannot imagine the earful Jeffrey got from him. Not the best of times to leave him to deal with Father, although I know you had to for work.”

  “I know, I know.” I’d been trying my best not to think of what I’d left Jeffrey with. It made my gut twist with guilt. “I really need to get back to work. I just wanted to check in on things. I love you, Jane.”

  “I love you too, Grace.” I could envision her leaning her head tenderly into the ear piece, just as she would have done to my shoulder had I been standing next to her. “I’m proud of you, ya know? We all are. Mom, me, everyone except Father, I imagine. The whole thing was ridiculous. I’m glad you didn’t go through with it.”

  “Me too.” I couldn’t express just how glad I was. For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I’d truly liberated myself from my father’s ruling thumb. “Talk soon.” I hung up the phone, determined to get at least a little work done.

  *

  His cheeks hurt from grinning, not accustomed to staying in the lifted position at such length. Though, try as he might, Eoghanan couldn’t relax his smile. Once Grace had ended her telephone conversation, he slumped against the wall in relief. There’d been a brief moment where she almost found him, with both their ears pressed against his doorway while he held his breath in the hopes that she wouldn’t hear him.

  Although he could only hear one side of the conversation, Grace had only said good things about him. Wonderful things. She’d said that she liked him, and that Cooper did also. Eoghanan couldn’t be more pleased to hear it. He very much liked the wee lad, and he liked the boy’s mother even more.

  She’d also spoken about his naked body. While he was not familiar with the word she’d used to describe it, the tone of he
r voice held no note of displeasure. Rather, she’d said it breathlessly, and his linen breeches had grown tight instantly. Only one thing gave him pause—the absence of Cooper’s father. He assumed the man was dead, but there was no way to be certain.

  Rested and fully alive, Eoghanan peeked outside into the hallway. Finding it empty, he went in search of Jerry. He wished to ask the lass to do something special, but he needed advice on what the times called for and to find assurance that Grace was free to be pursued.

  He found Jerry in the back, tending the inn’s small garden with Morna.

  “Ach, there ye are, lad. Morna and I have something to ask ye.”

  Eoghanan lifted a brow in surprise, nodding in encouragement that they continue.

  Morna stepped toward him, placing her hand on the side of his arm. “Jerry and I made a dinner reservation in the city a while back, but I doona think either one of us is up to it this evening. We thought perhaps ye might like to take Grace in our place.”

  “Reservation?”

  “Aye, at a lovely place in the center of Edinburgh. I have directions, and I have something fitting for ye to wear. Why doona ye ask her? She’ll say yes, I know it. Be sure to tell her that she will have to drive, though. Tell her that ye canna due to yer injured shoulder. She willna mind.”

  The witch could obviously read his mind for she presented him with the very opportunity he wished before he asked for it—a special evening alone with Grace.

  With all his excitement, he forgot the other question he meant to ask as he walked away.

  Chapter 11

  Eoghanan’s invitation came as a surprise, albeit a lovely one. Or, perhaps it really wasn’t too much of a surprise when I thought back on all the subtle flirtation of the previous day. Still, it had been so long since I’d been asked out on any sort of date, I’d begun to believe that my last first date over six years ago would be my last date ever.