My Highland Lover (33 page)

Gray steadied Trulie as they crunched through the sparkling crust of untouched snow. “ ’Tis just a bit farther.” His breath fogged an eerie blue-white cloud into the air. The shallow drifts of the crystal blanket rolled across the hillside, colored an even icier blue by the in-between time just before dawn.

“Is anyone else going to be there?” Trulie huffed as she gathered her skirts higher and pushed up the hillside.

“Only us,” Gray murmured as he brought her gloved hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against it. All was finally as it should be. At dawn, just as the sun crested the frozen horizon, he and Trulie would voice their union. The vast wildness of the rugged Highlands would serve as their only witness. His soul sang with long-awaited contentment. Finally. He and Trulie would be as one.

“There.” Gray pointed to the crest of the peak. Majestic pines towered against the ever-lightening blue of the sky. A small clearing glistened amid the dark circle of the trees. A waist-high stone, its edges worn and rounded by centuries of Highland weather, reached toward the sky from the center of the ring of snow.

“It’s perfect,” Trulie breathed as she pushed her furred hood to her back.

Even in the low light of pending dawn, Gray’s heart warmed at the happiness shining in Trulie’s face. “The old ones claimed this place to be holy. A place to speak to the gods. What better place to say our vows and become one?”

“I agree,” Trulie said softly as she took Gray’s hand and walked with him to the clearing.

The top of the stone was bleached white with age, but the unending whorls of the goddess could still be seen across the surface. Gray positioned himself on one side of the pillar and Trulie took her place opposite him. He nodded toward the horizon, squinting against the cold bite of the wind. “The sun comes to us,” he murmured as he scooped Trulie’s now bare hands into his own.

“It’s time,” Trulie breathed as she smiled toward the golden glow striking the crystals of snow to kiss the world with the first fire of its color.

“Tha gaol agam ort.”
Gray centered their clasped hands above the stone and repeated in English, “I love ye.”

“I love you too.” Trulie’s hands squeezed his and then she repeated in Gaelic, “
Tha gaol agam ort-fhèin.”

“I pledge ye m’life. I pledge ye m’heart. I pledge ye nothing less than m’soul.” Gray took a deep breath and swallowed hard against the wave of emotions crashing through him as the fiery rays of the morning light illuminated the clearing.

As the sunlight flooded full against the east side of the stone monument beneath their clasped hands, the rays shot up through a well-placed channel bored up through the center of the stone. The blinding white beam of light exploded up through their clasped fingers. Their hands glowed. Their flesh appeared illuminated and melded into one.

Trulie gasped as she stared down at the glowing mass between them. She lifted a tear-streaked face to Gray, blinking back the threat of more tears as she spoke. “I give you my life. My heart is yours. Our souls are joined as one. I’ll walk with you through eternity—”

“So let it be spoken,” Gray whispered as he leaned forward and sought the softness of Trulie’s mouth.

“So let it be done,” Trulie breathed as she sealed the joining with a kiss.

T
WO
Y
EARS
L
ATER (APPROXIMATELY)

The soft weight of her head beneath his chin lured him into wakefulness. He drew in a deep, satisfied breath. Was there any better way to awaken then with the feel of yer woman in yer arms? Without opening his eyes, Gray slid an arm closer about her. The loose weave of soft linen rippled beneath his fingertips. Gray nuzzled a kiss against her forehead, reveling in the delicious, sweet scent of her. “Why have ye donned yer shift? Ye know I love the feel of ye bare against me.”

Trulie nestled more snugly into the dip of his shoulder and tickled a finger down through the hair curling toward his stomach. “I’m the size of a beached whale and putting off enough heat to melt the polar ice cap. You should thank me for sparing you.”

Gray chuckled and shifted higher in the pillows, pulling her more comfortably across him. His love e’er had the way with words. Would he e’er completely understand her? “Yer m’fine beauty and I’ll ne’er get me fill o’ ye.”

His heart swelled near to bursting as he gently caressed a hand over her swollen belly. His poor lass. So large with his child she must surely be miserable. Aye, she’d grown large, but she was also the most beautiful sight he’d e’er beheld in all his days. He pressed another kiss atop her head. “And how is our fine, strong bairn today?”

As if to answer, the babe rolled, shifting Trulie’s stomach beneath his palm, then bumped a strong thump against his hand. Trulie arched her back and pressed firmly against her side. “Trying to find more room. He seems to enjoy hooking his toes on my ribcage and stretching.”

A surge of pride flashed through Gray. A chuckle rumbled from him as he pulled free the laces of Trulie’s shift and slid his hand in slow circles down around her silky belly. “Aye. He’ll be a braw laddie and need a good strong name. A name befitting a future chieftain.”

A sense of awe silenced him as he enjoyed the magic of life slowly shifting beneath his hand. What a wondrous gift they’d been given. A fine, precious gift. Thank the gods Trulie had chosen to stay with him. Remembering the moment she’d decided to stay in the past, Gray gently traced a fingertip around what seemed to be the outline of a small foot, or maybe part of a wee arm stretching Trulie’s belly. “Do ye reckon this one is our Chloe?”

Trulie propped herself higher in the bed and shoved more pillows behind the small of her back. She settled her hand atop his and peered down at her middle, frowning as she studied her belly. “I’m not sure. She mentioned four brothers but she didn’t say if they were older or younger.” Trulie’s gaze shifted up to him. Something in the depths of her green eyes warned him her mood had just changed.

Lore a’mercy. May the gods be wi’ me and no’ let me say the wrong thing.
Ofttimes of late, retreat was the better part of valor. Gray draped an arm back over his eyes and burrowed back into the depths of the plump bed. As the birthing day drew nearer, his love’s moods shifted faster than a storm at sea and could oft be as deadly. “Colum’s seein’ to the hunt today.” Gray patted the bed beside him. “Come, m’dearest. Let me hold ye while we both rest a bit longer.”

“About Colum.”

A huffing groan escaped him before he could stop it. Gray kept his arm over his eyes and prayed he could avoid another
discussion,
as his wife so dearly loved to call them, about Colum and his penchant for dallying with the maids. He knew that tone. He’d best tread lightly. “I’ve spoken to him about his ways, just as ye asked.”
Dammit, Colum, ye wanderin’ bastard. I’ll wring yer wenchin’ neck the next I see ye.
Gray shifted his arm slightly and stole a peek at Trulie.

Trulie quietly folded her hands atop the mound of her enormous midriff. “Your lectures have not been effective. Just last night, I caught him behind the tapestries with not one, but two of Cook’s kitchen maids.” Trulie glared off into space, slowly tapping a finger atop her belly. “Granny and I have seen good things regarding Colum. It’s time he settled down.” Her lips curled into the beautiful plotting smile Gray had learned meant trouble. She awkwardly moved to the edge of the bed and wobbled to her feet. “Could you please let Coira know I’m ready to get dressed?”

“Aye.” Gray rolled from the bed, snatched his plaid off the hook, and wrapped it around his waist. He’d gladly fetch the maid if it meant he could avoid what looked to be a treacherous mornin’ in the bedchamber.

“And don’t go far,” Trulie warned, as though she’d read his thoughts.

Gray paused, his hand on the latch and his breath held as he waited.
Lore a’mighty. What mischief is she about to stir?

Trulie smiled as she draped a light arisaid about her shoulders. “Once I’m dressed, we’ll all meet in the solar.”

“We?”

Trulie nodded. “You, me, Granny, and Colum.”

Gray let out a heavy sigh and asked, “And we are meeting because?”

“Because Colum is perfect for Kenna.”

This book is dedicated to my family for unconditionally embracing all my quirks and fully supporting my kind of crazy with a smile. This book is also dedicated to my God for pulling me back from the darkness and showing me the way to the light.

My Highland Lover

My Highland Bride (coming soon)

PHOTO: CHRISTA SULLIVAN

M
AEVE
G
REYSON
is an author of paranormal romance whose stories are filled with the mysteries of time travel and Celtic legends. A lifelong dreamer, Greyson started writing to help her mother escape during an overwhelming health crisis. Though her mother is gone now, the joy of releasing her dreams to the page remains. Maeve Greyson lives with her husband of more than thirty years in Western Kentucky.

www.maevegreyson.com

Facebook.com/maeve.greyson

@maevegreyson

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