Love Beyond Belief (Book 7 of Morna’s Legacy Series) (2 page)

“Thank ye for saving the child. I canna bear to think of her being lost.”

Callum said nothing. He was glad, as well, but it wasn’t nearly enough. If not for him, the child’s parents would still be alive.
 

“So ye see, Laird Allen, ’twas not an accident that killed yer ken. None is to blame but myself.”

“None? I’d say Macaslan is the one to blame, lad. What did ye do to anger him?”

“I prevented his son from marrying a lass that dinna want him—a lass that already belonged to another.”

“Ah. That is not enough reason for a man to burn yer home and property. This was not yer doing, Callum. We must see Macaslan dead.”

He couldn’t agree more. If only the wretch would see his way back to Scotland.
 

“Aye, though he’s not been seen since the night of the fire. His son holes up in their castle, and his father has fled the country. We’ve eyes on nearly every shore. When he sees fit to return, we’ll know.”

“Where do ye think he’s gone? My men willna be returning home until we’ve seen Macaslan’s head separated from his body. If ye are watching for him to return, we will go seek him out.”

Callum was sure that most of Scotland felt that way. He couldn’t think of any possible ally for Macaslan. More clans than not had been wronged by him in some way.
 

“A merchant in Macaslan’s territory claims he has friends in Spain, though I doona know if he would travel so far.”

“To Spain we will go then.”
 

For the first time, Raudrich gestured toward the child in Jane’s arms.
 

“How is the babe? Have ye named her? I doona know what my brother called the lass.”

Callum could hear Jane approaching behind him. It didn’t surprise him that she refused to stay where he left her.
 

“Nora. I call her Nora.”

“’Tis a lovely name, lass. Can I see her?”

Callum watched Jane closely, hoping with his every breath that she wouldn’t turn and bolt toward the portal with the child in tow. She trembled all over, but slowly she handed the baby over to Laird Allen. Nora started to scream immediately.
 

Raudrich held the baby out away from him awkwardly, baring his teeth uncomfortably as he spoke over the baby’s cry.
 

“She looks much like her mother. She doesna seem to care for me much.”

Jane’s voice, weepy and cracked, answered.
 

“You…you have to hold her closer to you.”

Laird Allen nodded but continued to hold the child away from him.
 

“Aye, I’m sure. What is yer name? Are ye Callum’s wife?”

“No.” Both he and Jane spoke up at the same time. Embarrassed, Callum stepped back, allowing Jane to lead the conversation.
 

“No. I’m Jane, Adwen’s wife. Adwen is Callum’s brother.”

Laird Allen nodded once again and continued to stare at the baby with apprehension.
 

“Do ye love her, Jane?”

Callum feared Jane would rip the child from his arms at any moment. When she answered, her voice was filled with need.
 

“Very much.”

“I can see that. Why doona ye keep her? All the babe’s parents would want is for her to be loved. I would love her, but a babe needs more than that, aye? I’m not married and, from the sounds of it, I’ll be headed to Spain soon. I canna care for the child like ye can.”

Jane stepped forward and gleefully took Nora back into her arms.
 

“Do you mean it? If you say I can keep her, I need your word that you will not want her back. It nearly killed me handing her to you just then. I couldn’t say goodbye to her again.”

Laird Allen turned his back to them, said a quick word to his men, and remounted his horse before speaking.
 

“Aye, lass. I will rest easy knowing that Nora will grow up with a mother who loves her just as much as her birth mother did. I’ll not take up any more of yer time. My men will see my family’s remains safely back to our home. I’ll be in search for Laird Macaslan, and I’ll be in touch with ye soon, Callum.”

They both waited until their visitor rode out of sight before speaking. When Laird Allen was gone, Jane threw one of her arms around Callum, squishing the baby in between them hard enough to elicit an unhappy scream from Nora.
 

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Callum.”

He stared at her incredulously, turning to lead them both back to the portal.
 

“Why are ye thanking me? I dinna do it. Laird Allen did.”

“But you saved her, and she’s become my world. I am grateful to Laird Allen too, but I mean, seriously, what’s wrong with him? Who gives their niece over to a total stranger like that? For all he knows, he could have just given her over to a complete nut-job.”

Callum laughed teasingly. “I believe he just did.”

Jane gave him a quick nudge in the ribs with her elbow before sprinting ahead of him and down the staircase portal.
 

He knew as he followed her into the twenty-first century that this would be the happiest day they’d all had in many, many months.
 

CHAPTER 2

Italy

Present Day

The sound of sneakers on cobblestone streets always soothed me in a way that little else could. It meant that the rest of the world, or at least everyone in my tiny village, still slept. For those few, precious, forty-odd minutes, all that mattered was the sound of my sneakers and the steady rhythm of my own labored breathing. It was the only time of day that I kept for myself. Even with the chest cold I had this morning, I refused to miss out on my run.
 

As a child, I spent my summers in the restaurant helping my grandmother in whatever manner she allowed, watching her with a dreamlike admiration that distorted my memories in a way I could only see now. In front of her patrons, while working in the kitchen and serving up three meals daily to the town’s residential regulars, she’d been vibrant, energetic, and alive. She made everyone around her smile. You could taste her love in every meal she cooked, and all I ever wanted was to be just like her.

But away from her restaurant, in the small home where she spent her life, she’d been so tired she would fall asleep any time she sat down. So out of touch with anything outside of her restaurant, she could talk of little. When young, I always thought that the restaurant was the source of all her energy—a light in her life that she loved so much it pained her any time she was away. Perhaps if I’d spent more than those few weeks each summer with her, I would have seen the truth. She loved her work, that much was true, but the restaurant was a vacuum to her soul until the day she died. It took her energy, her focus, her time, and any chance she ever had at real happiness.
 

I could see all of it now. I could see it because I experienced it firsthand. While my grandmother allowed work to rule her life, I refused to do so. Mr. Abbiati would be shocked if I landed another job—he had no idea I was even looking—but I knew he could see how run down I’d become even if he chose to ignore it for the sake of his business.
 

I let out a frustrated sigh as I rounded the last corner of my run. The breath caught uncomfortably in my chest, sending me into a fit of coughing that told me I had no real business cooking for anyone today. Still, I knew that I would. There was no one to help me, and lots of locals would be mighty upset if I closed without notice. I stopped running just outside the restaurant door then hurried to find my key so that I could go inside for a glass of water to soothe my cough.

“You sound terrible.”

I gasped and started at the voice. In my three years of running the restaurant, I’d never encountered another soul while out on my runs. Mr. Abbiati spoke in Italian, just as everyone did here, but I unthinkingly answered him in English, gripping my chest as I caught my breath and bent to pick up the keys I’d dropped.
 

“Oh, you scared me.” I caught my mistake and continued in Italian. “What are you doing up this early, Mr. Abbiati?”

Mr. Abbiati often stopped in during the day to check in on me and visit over a cup of coffee, but never this early in the day.
 

“I’m always up this early, but it’s not often that I’m out of the house until after the sun is up. I don’t ever sleep, really. I was reading by my window and saw you run by. I thought Francesca and I would meet you at the end of your run for an early morning coffee. I need to talk to you.”

I glanced down at Francesca, taking notice of the leashed cat for the first time. Perhaps many cats are accustomed to being walked around on a leash, but the only one I’d ever seen was Francesca, a cat so dog-like that she never failed to put a smile on my face. Mr. Abbiati never went anywhere without her.
 

“Of course, come on in. I’ll get us some coffee and Francesca some milk. Do you mind visiting with me while I look over my emails? I need to track my latest seafood order.”

He nodded and followed me inside, sitting quietly down at the small table inside the kitchen where I often rested in between meal rushes. It didn’t take long to brew the coffee. After preparing it just the way Mr. Abbiati liked, I squeezed his shoulder and sat down beside him, opening up my laptop to check on the order. He spoke almost immediately.

“I’m worried about you, Sydney. I have been for some time.”

“Oh?” In truth, I was only sort of listening to him. While tracking my order, another email at the top of my inbox captured my attention completely. Nearly six months had passed since I submitted an application for the job, and I’d long since let the dream of it go. To see a response from Cagair Castle in Scotland after all of this time astonished me completely.

“Yes. You’ve aged far more in three years than any young woman as healthy as you should. You’re already far too invested in this place. If you don’t intervene on behalf of your own sanity soon, you will lose yourself to it. I care too much for you to allow that to happen.”

“Uh-huh.” Now I definitely wasn’t listening, for the first sentence in the message had my heart beating so fast I might as well still be running. This was it. The change I needed. It didn’t matter to me that the job wasn’t officially mine. A shot at it was all I needed to give me the confidence to make the choice I pondered for so long.
 

“Sydney, are you listening to me?”

Taking a breath to slow my pulse and build my courage, I closed my computer and looked over at him.
 

“No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t. I just got some news that I need to share with you. What were you saying?”

I could see that I frustrated him. He crossed his arms in a way meant to show me just how unhappy he was before he continued.
 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re fired, Sydney.”

“I’m quitting, Mr. Abbiati.”
 

We both spoke at the exact same time, leaving us both to say
what
in unison at the other’s last words. I pointed at him, then leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms to mimic his stance.
 

“You first. You’re firing me? Why?”

“Well I guess I’m not if you’re quitting. Though I must say I’m glad to hear it. I didn’t want to fire you, but I was ready to do it.”

I still couldn’t understand. “Again. Why?”

“Your grandmother, Sydney. I loved her for more than forty years, and I know she loved me as much as she was capable. I’d have married her if she would have let me. But alas, she could never pull herself away from this place long enough to build a life for herself. I don’t want that to happen to you. I know she wouldn’t want it for you, either.”

“Neither do I.” I didn’t know what else to say to him. I imagined we were both very much in shock that we were on the same page. It rarely happened.

“You’re far braver than she was. Leaving this job proves that. Your grandmother knew everyone, but she knew no one. She knew names and faces of countless people but understood too little of herself to know the heart or mind of any other. It’s an empty life to live that way, and it brings nothing but pain to those who love a person who has lost their own self to something that doesn’t matter. Not to say that hard work doesn’t matter, it does, but only if you know who and what you’re working for. Working for work’s sake gets you nowhere. That is precisely how Elizabetta spent her life.”

Tears sprang up in my eyes. I couldn’t tell if they were due to relief or the sad remembrance of my grandmother’s life.
 

He didn’t wait for me to respond. “So. Tell me about this new job.”

“Well, it’s not actually mine yet, but it will be after I show them how great I am. It’s in Scotland.”

“Scotland, huh? Well, at least you won’t be torturing the rest of us with your awful Italian anymore.”

I shook my head at him and continued. My Italian was perfect, and everyone in the village knew it.