Dawns Everlastin' (former title: Dusk Before Dawn) Book 2 (26 page)

The instant she was out of
sight, Roan lifted his misting eyes heavenward. He clenched his
hands, ignoring the pain shooting up his broken arm.

For four days, he'd
struggled with the notion to convince her to stay with him, but the
uncertainty of his future had won out. He was without a job.
Without a home. Without hope of turning his life around. He refused
to lean on her through the trying months to come. It was a man’s
duty to support a wife and children!

"Damn me," he
choked.

He'd never expected anyone
like Laura or the boys to come waltzing into his life.

"Damn me!" he repeated
belligerently, and returned to the rocker in front of the
hearth.

* * *

It was there days later
before Roan returned to the remains of the manor. The seven days
that had passed since Laura and the boys had left were but a blur
to him. His casted arm rested in a sling about his neck. He'd lost
weight. His rugged features bespoke of the trials he'd endured that
terrible night of the fire. He'd grown quiet and remote, a man
existing under a perpetual cloud of hopelessness.

He stood at the front of the
cottage, staring at the blackened exterior of the main house. Very
little life was visible in his usually expressive eyes.

"Lannie? Beth?"

He didn't expect them to
answer. Since the night of the fire, he hadn't seen or heard from
them. The manor was destroyed, and its lord and mistress had
completely vanished. Not too long ago, he'd plotted to rid his clan
of the laird. And yet, the idea now of never seeing Lachlan or Beth
again left in him a void that was almost unbearable.

"Laura and the boys have
returned to the States." He sighed, ignoring the ache that remained
in his lungs. "Tha' promise has been carried through, you old
swine."

Emotional pain became deeply
etched in his features. "It shouldn't have ended like this. Yer
home, mon." Tears brimmed his eyes. "Aggie says good riddance. She
doesn't understand. You and yer grandfaither's scotch, aye? We
bonded all right. You took a piece o' me wi' you, you bloody pain
in the arse."

Jabbing at the air with his
right index finger, he went on bitterly, "It was simpler when I
hated you, Lannie. Damn you, mon, you filled ma head wi' dreams no
mon like me has a right to hold dear to his heart!"

Picking up a rock, he walked
to within five yards of the front of the house. Angrily, he flung
it at the wall, and for his effort to release his anguish, his feet
slid out from under him. He slammed onto the icy, graveled yard,
and released a stream of Scottish invectives.

"Breakin' yer arse winna
accomplish a thing," said a grave voice, as hands hooked beneath
Roan's coated armpits and hauled him onto his feet.

Astonished, Roan turned to
find himself staring into Lachlan's brooding eyes. Just beyond the
laird's shoulder, Beth tipped her head and smiled in
greeting.

"Where the bloody hell have
you two been?" Roan said in an inordinately high-pitched
tone.

"Gatherin' up our energy,"
the laird said matter-of-factly.

Beth stepped to Lachlan's
side. "How's your arm?"

"Fine," Roan
grumbled.

"Laura and the laddies have
left?"

"Aye." Roan gave a negligent
shrug. "She couldn't get away fast enough."

"I'm sorry," Beth said
gently.

"For me?" Roan released a
scoffing laugh. "She was an impossible womon. I'll miss the
lads."

Lachlan and Beth exchanged a
dubious glance.

"You'll miss her, too," the
laird said gruffly. "Ye're a fool to have let her go."

"Don't stick yer nose into
ma love life, Baird."

"I would if you had one,"
Lachlan grinned, then his gaze shifted and he soberly scanned what
remained of his house. "Tis so bleak."

Roan couldn't bring himself
to look upon it again. "Aye. I'm sorry. I know how much this place
means to you."

"Aye," Lachlan
sighed.

Roan shifted
self-consciously. "Anither thing. The peafowls are gone. I thought
I saw a peahen in the east pasture but it turned ou' to be a wee
dog."

"They'll come home," Lachlan
assured, his gaze traveling the front of the property. He couldn't
remember a time when the peacocks and hens hadn't been
around.

"I hope so," Roan
murmured.

Beth silently observed the
two men, a slim eyebrow arched. Lachlan had surprisingly accepted
the destruction of his treasures, his home, although Beth had been
aware of a void within him that he did his best to
camouflage.

And Roan. He was so easy to
read. He was lost and bewildered. Miserable. For too short a time,
Laura and the boys, and the responsibility of becoming laird to the
manor had given him renewed purpose. He believed it all lost to him
now, as it had been when he'd lost his son.

These two men, who she loved
so very dearly in different ways, seemed incapable at the moment of
realizing just what the future held for them. So it was upon her,
she felt, to enlighten them. But to succeed, she knew she was going
to have to resort to something stronger than a mere
suggestion.

"You promised Lachlan
anything if he saved Kevin, didn't you?" she presented to Roan, who
arched a questioning brow at her.

"Aye, but—"

"You're a man who keeps his
promises," she added in an airy, cheerful manner, ignoring
Lachlan's frown at her.

"Aye, but—"

"Roan, you're wasting
valuable time wallowing in self-pity," she sighed.

"Wha's goin' through yer
mind, darlin'?" Lachlan asked suspiciously.

Beth's sparkling eyes
scanned Roan's features. "You're a carpenter. Right?"

Aghast, Roan shot a look at
the house behind him. When he again looked at the couple, a
high-pitched laugh ejected from his throat. "I'm no' a miracle
worker!"

Dawning lit upon Lachlan's
face. "Ah." He smiled broadly then kissed Beth briefly on the lips.
"Wha' a devilish mind you have, lass."

"You can't be serious," Roan
laughed unsteadily, his eyes nearly rounded with disbelief.
"Restore Baird House? I'd need mair lives than a cat!"

Cockily crossing his arms
against his chest, Lachlan quipped, "Tha' could be arranged." He
winked at Beth then narrowed his eyes on the stunned man across
from him. "O' course, you'd be one o' the dead," he
grinned.

Roan grimaced. "I'll pass,
thank you."

Sounds drew their gazes to
the private road. Shortly, four cars and two large trucks parked on
the graveled area in front of the carriage house. As people began
to emerge from the vehicles, Roan recognized Ben and several other
men from the pub. Then to his amazement, Agnes stepped from one of
the cars and led the small group to the waiting trio.

To Roan's further
astonishment, his aunt beamed a smile at the laird, and gave a bob
of her head in greeting to Beth.

"So, you didn’t high-tail
off," she cackled to Lachlan, her high spirits taking years off her
age. "Ma worst luck!"

Lachlan smiled then bowed
graciously to her. "Good to see you too, you old
corbie."

"Nice way to talk to the
lady plannin' to see yer grand house restored," she huffed
humorously.

"Aunt Aggie, what's goin'
on?"

Ben, his gaze remaining
riveted on Lachlan, spoke up. "Aggie's come up wi' a plan.
Crossmichael and Castle Douglas are joinin' togither to rebuild
this place."

Color returned to Roan's
face, and he laughed unsteadily. "You serious?"

"Never mair serious," Agnes
sniffed.

"The power of the people,"
Beth murmured, her eyes misting with tears. When Lachlan's arm went
about her shoulders, she pressed closer to him. "Thank you,
Agnes."

The old woman proudly thrust
back her shoulders. "Merchants are willin' to supply everythin' we
need. Baird House is a landmark. And we Scots are no' 'fraid o'
hard work, are we, Roan?"

"Aye," Roan grinned. "We're
strong o' back and spirit."

"Tis a debt I'll never
forget," Lachlan said to Agnes, his tone thick with
emotion.

"It’s one I will
never
let you forget!"
she exclaimed.

Roan unexpectedly walked
away. When he stopped, his back was to the group. With a gesture
for the others to remain where they were, Beth went to him and
placed a hand on his shoulder.

"The dress does make you
look like a spook," he said unsteadily, avoiding directly looking
at her.

"She'll be back."

"Who?"

Beth slapped him on his
uninjured arm then stepped directly in front of him. This time he
looked into her eyes, although it took all of his willpower to do
so.

"You may be able to fool
everyone else, but Lachlan and I know you're in love with Laura
Bennett. She will return, Roan. And with the boys."

"Ye're sure o' tha', are
you?"

"As sure as I know I was
always meant to be here," she replied softly. "Don't ever forsake
love, Roan."

"She never said
goodbye."

"Maybe because she knows
she's going to return."

Roan digested her words then
looked up at the charred ruins with an enigmatic light in his eyes.
Drawing in a fortifying breath through his nostrils, he searched
Beth's lovely face.

"I owe you ma
life."

"Then live it to its
fullest." Placing an arm about his middle, she urged him to walk
alongside her toward those waiting patiently for their return. She
retained her hold when they stopped, and smiled at Lachlan when he
stepped to Roan's other side and draped an arm over the man's
shoulders. The scene bespoke of the trio's strong bond of
friendship, and a single tear escaped down Agnes' weathered
cheek.

Suddenly it occurred to Roan
what Lachlan had meant the night of the fire when he'd said, "Dusk
afore dawn, laddie."

One phase of life had to end
before another began anew.

Roan wasn't sure if Laura
and the boys would return, but if they did, Baird House, restored
in all its glory, would be waiting for them.

In the meantime, he once
again had a dream, and family and friends to take the edge off his
loneliness.

One thing he was sure about:
Beth and Lachlan would remain for a very long time. For as long as
he needed them. Which, in his heart would be until the dusk of his
corporeal life.

His heart swelling with joy,
he searched the faces around him. "C'mon, you motley bunch!" he
laughed boomingly, gesturing widely with his good arm. "We've a
house to restore!"

Ben surveyed the building
and comically rolled his eyes. "Aye. Tha' we do."

Lachlan sobered unobserved.
He walked around to the east side of the house, to the frozen
fountain, and seated himself on the rounded lip of the lower basin.
All around him, snow glistened. It was a sun-bright day, the air
crisp and clean and, despite the charred remains behind him,
smelling of newness.

He'd thought of visiting
Roan at Agnes'. He'd thought over a lot of things since the fire.
In part, he was glad Laura was gone. After the incident in the
attic, when she'd taken the dirk to him, he'd been forced to open
his eyes to Tessa's presence. Robert was one thing, but—

"You're a
chauvinist."

Beth's soft tone gave him a
start. Looking guiltily over his shoulder, he watched her amble to
his side, her hands clasped behind her.

"Ye're readin' ma mind
again," he accused with a frown, his dark-eyed gaze sweeping over
the contours of her beautiful face.

"There is something that has
always bothered me," she sighed, sitting cozily close next to
him.

"Wha' is tha', love?" he
asked suspiciously.

"Why is most of your anger
directed toward Tessa?"

He winced and looked down at
his hands, which rested atop his knees. "She was ma
wife."

"But Robbie walled you up,
knowing that you were still alive."

For a time, he pondered her
logic then looked into her eyes. "He was a weak mon, Beth. Wha' he
did, he did ou' o' love for her."

"But what she did, she did
out of love for him."

Lachlan scowled. "Tis no'
the same."

"No?" Heaving a sigh of
impatience, she arched an eyebrow. "How long have you
known?"

"Too long. Too long,
lass."

"Lachlan, you know I love
you."

"Aye."

"You also know I draw the
line when it comes to you going off half-cocked."

"Tis a bloody—"

"Never mind. Back off. Let
them find their own way."

"Tis no' tha'
easy."

Taking his chin between her
fingers, Beth eased his head around and planted a kiss on his
mouth. "Lachlan, back off. I will not allow you to hurt Roan and
Laura because of a century-old vendetta."