Текст книги "A Highlander Christmas"

Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

He said nothing for several heartbeats, then softly asked, “And were they all virgins when they met their husbands?”

“No. Or at least several of them weren’t.” She stared off into the woods. “I believe Winter was. Heather got married when she was eighteen, so she might have been, too. But I’m pretty sure Megan, Sarah, Chelsea, and Elizabeth weren’t.” She looked over at Luke. “But their virginity is not the issue. Every one of them got pregnant the very first time they made love to the man they eventually married.”

“And so you’ve never gone all the way because you’ve been afraid that . . . what? That you might get pregnant and then have to marry the father? But birth control is very reliable today.”

“That’s what Megan and Sarah and Elizabeth thought. I know that Sarah was on birth control pills, and Megan told me Jack used a condom. But don’t you see? It’s like the universepicked out their husbands for them.”

“They didn’t have to marry those men, Camry. That was their choice.”

“But they loved them.”

“Then what’s the problem? Everything worked out for the best.”

She stood up, crossing her arms to hug herself as she faced the woods. “But what if I want to love someone and not have babies with him?” She spun around to face him. “Where is it written that I can’t have one without the other?”

He walked over and cupped her face, rubbing his thumbs across her cheek, and Cam was startled to realize she was crying.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, then pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. “It isn’t written anywhere, Camry. If you ever decide to get married, it will be to the man youchoose, not who the universe chooses. And if you have a baby with him, it will be the choice of both of you.”

“But I want to make love to you,” she whispered.

He tilted her head back and looked down at her in surprise. “You do?” He grinned somewhat drunkenly. “You’ve fallen in lust with me?”

She buried her face in his chest again. “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” she growled. “Other than confused. What if we make love and I get pregnant?”

“You won’t. We’ll take precautions.”

Cam melted against him with a heavy sigh. “Father Daar says that if a baby’s wanting to be born, no contraceptive will stop it.”

“Father Daar?”

She looked up at him. “He’s an old priest who used to live in a cabin up on TarStone, but now he lives on the coast with Matt’s brother, Kenzie Gregor. Daar’s been around forever, and presided over my parents’ and all of my sisters’ weddings. And he’s always told us girls that if a child is wanting to be born, it will be, and that we just have to accept what Providencedecides.”

Luke gave her a crooked smile. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but for a scientist, you have some really strange notions.”

She nestled back against him. “I can’t help it,” she said with another sigh. “I was born into a really strange family.” She looked up at him. “So . . . are you still in lust with me? Or have I managed to scare you off?”

He arched a brow. “That would depend on if your father is going to come after me with a shotgun. Greylen strikes me as rather oldfashioned.” He grinned. “Is that the real reason your sisters married the men who got them pregnant?”

Cam toyed with the zipper on his jacket. “And if Daddy did come after you with a shotgun,” she asked, finally looking up into his eyes, “would you make an honest woman of me, or jump on the first plane back to France?”

“Hmmm . . . I don’t know.”

Cam squirmed to break free, but Luke pulled her back against him with a laugh, and tucked her head under his chin. “Give me a minute here, MacKeage. On the one hand, I’m no more ready than you are to think about having a baby, but . . .” He ducked his head to look her in the eye. “But the more time we spend together, the more in lust with you I get. And I do have a whole box of condoms that I’d hate to see go to waste. But then . . .” He suddenly set her away, shaking his head. “Nope, I’m too tired right now to know what I’d do. So let’s head north, find a place to set up camp, and have a nap.” He spun around and headed into the woods in the direction Max had gone. “Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know what I decide,” he said over his shoulder.

Cam stood gaping at him walking away. Of all the . . .

Wait. Had he been teasingher?

But nobody teased her. Ever. They didn’t dare, because they knew that though she occasionally got mad, she alwaysgot even.

Cam suddenly smiled. So he wanted to have a nap, did he?

She just as suddenly scowled.

He’d brought a whole boxof condoms?

Chapter Thirteen

By the time they finished setting up camp halfway up the north side of Springy Mountain—after stopping at Megan and Jack’s building lot to refuel the snowcat—Camry was so exhausted that she didn’t care if she dieda virgin; she simply didn’t have the energy to get even with Luke.

The dogs cooperated, and immediately settled down on their new doggie bed inside the large tent she and Luke had just pitched. Getting Luke to cooperate, however, was another matter entirely, as the man appeared jumpier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

“I told you those PowerBars were loaded with sugar and caffeine,” she muttered, stripping off her outer clothes.

He looked up from unlacing his boots. “We’d be camping in a snowbank right now if I hadn’t eaten them,” he said, waving at the tent they were in. “I’ve been awake for over thirty hours.”

Stripped down to her long johns, Cam crawled into the sleeping bags she’d zipped together. “If you’d taken a nap like I did yesterday, instead of sneaking out to buy condoms, you wouldn’t have needed to eat them. Now you won’t be able to sleep.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep, all right,” he said, crawling in beside her.

Luke then let out a yawn—which made her yawn—and folded his hands on his stomach. But instead of falling asleep, Camry noticed he started twiddling his thumbs as he stared up at the tent roof. “You do realize that as soon as your father discovers one of his groomers is missing, he’s going to know you’re the one who stole it.”

“I know.”

“Which will lead your mother to believe that you’ll be home for Christmas.”

“Go to sleep, Luke.”

He stayed silent for all of sixty seconds. “Only Grace didn’t seem to be worried about Christmas,” he murmured, apparently talking to himself as much as to her. “She asked me to have you home by the solstice.”

Even though her eyes were closed, she could tell that his thumbs had stopped twiddling and that he was looking at her. “I thought it was strange at the time, but now I know it’s because it’s your birthday.” He snorted. “As well as all your sisters’ birthday.”

“Go to sleep,Luke.”

A full ninety seconds went by before she felt him roll toward her. “And since your big day is December twentieth, I’ve been thinking maybe we could hop on a plane after your birthday party and spend Christmas with my family in British Columbia.”

That got her eyes open. “What?”

Propping his head on his hand as he faced her, he rested his other hand across her belly to cup her opposite hip. “It’ll be fun,” he said with an eager smile. “Mom and André are dying to meet you, and Kate is beside herself with curiosity. She’s been sending me at least ten text messages a day for the last week, asking about you.”

“You toldyour family about me?”

“Of course. And I promised that I’d bring you home to meet them.”

“But why?” Cam whispered, horrified at the thought of meeting his family, considering she couldn’t even face her own. “What did you tell them about me?”

He suddenly flopped onto his back, folded his hands on his belly, and stared up at the tent roof again. “I told them that just as soon as I worked up the nerve, I was going to ask you to marry me.”

Camry bolted upright. “You what!” she attempted to shout—only it came out as a squeak.

He hadn’t really just mentioned the M-word, had he?

He also sat up, and took her suddenly trembling hands in his. “I was going to wait until after we found Podly and you made up with your parents to ask you.” Two flags of red rose into his shadowy beard. “In fact, I even planned to buy a ring and get down on one knee, but . . .” He lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed them. “But when you told me about your strange family traditions yet admitted you wanted to make love to me anyway, I started thinking that maybe I should take blatant advantage of your confusion and propose beforewe made love.”

He let go of her hands to close her gaping mouth, then immediately placed his finger over her lips to keep her from saying anything.

Not that she could have.

“I realize this is rather sudden for you, so I really don’t want you to give me an answer right now.”

“But you’re only in lustwith me,” Cam managed to whisper behind his finger.

He reached down and took hold of her hands again. “Oh, I’m definitely in lust with you. But while we were hiding in the maintenance garage, I realized that lust doesn’t hold a candle to the intimacy we’ve shared this past week.” He took what appeared to be a fortifying breath and held her hands to his chest, over his solidly beating heart. “So, Camry MacKeage, would you do me the honor of consideringspending the rest of your life being intimate with me?”

She dropped her gaze to her hands clasped in his. “I-I have to think about it.”

He released what sounded like a relieved sigh and flopped back on the air mattress, pulling her with him and snuggling her up against his side. “Thank you. But while you’re thinking, I’d like you to consider one more thing.” He tilted her chin up for her to look at him. “Marrying me just might be your chance to trump the universe.”

“How?”

“By your getting married beforeyou make love to your husband. That way you can’t ever question that you’re the one doing the choosing, not Providence.”

Cam tucked her head into his shoulder and stared across his chest. “But what if I marry you, then we make love, and I don’tget pregnant?” she whispered, clutching his shirt in her fist. “That would mean you’re notthe man I’m supposed to marry.”

His chest fell on a heavy sigh. “Camry, sweetheart, you have to stop letting your fear that something might or might not occur dictate your life. Your only basis for assuming that what happened to your sisters has any bearing on what will happen to you is your belief that traditionis even a tangible integer. But the very fact that your sisters loved the men they married precludes any direct correlation to their getting pregnant. If you were to develop a matrix, with tradition being Xand seemingly related occurrences being Y,I believe you would see how rarely they actually intersect. In fact, I’d be surprised if such an equation could even be written, because—”

Camry stifled a yawn and melted bonelessly against him with deep and utter contentment. Because honest to God, the very fact that he was lecturingher made Cam’s heart swell with the realization that he truly loved her!

And seeing how her ears weren’t wanting to fall off, well . . . could that mean she just might love him back?

Chapter Fourteen

Somewhere in the far reaches of sleep, Luke heard Max and Tigger stirring—only seconds before he heard the zipper on the tent slide open. The realization that it wasn’t Camry doing the zipping, because she was snuggled tightly against him, made Luke bolt up in adrenaline-laced alarm.

“You people are trespassing,” said the man holding the shotgun only inches from his chest, his voice a menacing growl.

Luke cut off Camry’s yelp of surprise by shoving her behind his back when she also sprang upright. “We’re not looking for trouble,” he told the white-bearded, wild-haired old man. “We’re just doing a little winter camping.”

Camry peeked past Luke’s arm. “You’re the one trespassing,” she said. “This mountain belongs to Jack and Megan Stone.”

“You look like land developers to me,” the man snarled, though he did lower the shotgun barrel slightly.

Which still disconcerted Luke, as now it was aimed at his groin. “We’re not land developers,” he said, leaning sideways to put himself in front of Camry again. He eyed Max and Tigger, wondering why neither dog seemed particularly worried. In fact, they looked downright pleased to have company. “We’re on sabbatical from work, getting some fresh mountain air before we go home to our families for Christmas.”

“I’m Camry MacKeage,” Camry said, leaning around him again. “My family lives in Pine Creek. We own TarStone Mountain Ski Resort.”

The gun barrel lowered several more inches as the man arched his bushy brows in surprise. “ CamryMacKeage, you say?” His eyes narrowed again on Luke. “You Lucian Renoir?”

Luke stiffened. “Yes.”

Their uninvited guest’s expression suddenly turned eager. “Well okay, then!” he said, backing out of the tent—and taking his shotgun with him. Tigger and Max bounded after him. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you people to show up!” he continued from outside. “Dag-nab-it, it took you two long enough to get here!”

Luke turned to Camry with an inquisitive arch of his brow.

When she merely shrugged, they both scrambled to put on their boots. They slid their jackets on over their long johns and rushed for the tent door, but Luke pulled Camry to a stop. “Let me go first.”

“It’s obvious he’s only a harmless old hermit.”

“Who just happens to know our names? I spent two months on this mountain, and I never saw a trace of him. So just humor me, would you, and let me go out first?”

She stared into his eyes for what seemed like forever, then suddenly smiled and motioned toward the tent flap. “Be my guest, Maxine.”

Luke shot her a warning scowl, then poked his head through the flap to find the man sitting on the ground, laughing uncontrollably as Tigger attacked his face with her tongue. Max was flopped on his back with all four paws in the air, his tail thumping the snow as the guy rubbed his belly. Luke looked around for the shotgun and saw it leaning against the track of the snowcat, beside the . . . next to the . . .

He scrambled out of the tent, pulling Camry with him. The moment she stood up, Luke surreptitiously motioned toward the cat. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Oh my God,” she softly gasped. “That looks like Podly. Or at least its outer housing.” She glanced briefly at the man, who seemed to have completely forgotten them in favor of playing with the dogs. “He’s using our satellite as a sled?”

“You go check it out,” Luke whispered, heading toward the man. He stopped and held his hand down to him. “You can call me Luke, Mr. . . . ?”

The still-laughing man took hold of Luke’s hand, but instead of shaking it, he used it to pull himself to his feet. “Dag-nab-it, I seem to be getting older instead of younger,” he chortled, finally shaking Luke’s hand. “Name’s Roger AuClair. You like that sled, Missy MacKeage? I’d be willing to sell it to you,” he called to Camry. “Or if’n you want, I can custom make you one just like it, only out of wood scraps.”

He walked over to her. “A wooden one would cost you less than this one, ’cause this stuff don’t fall out of the sky every day, you know,” he said, running his gnarled hand over the charred metal. “I still got to polish it up some. You got any sweets in your fancy snow machine?” he asked, peering in through the window of the snowcat. He looked back at Camry. “I’m open to bartering. Pound for pound, anything I build for you in exchange for anything you got that’s sweet, be it home-baked or store-bought.”

“I believe we have some sweet granola bars,” Camry offered with obvious amusement. She glanced toward Luke, then down at the sled, then back at Roger. “But instead of trading me this beautiful piece, would you happen to have other parts of whatever fell out of the sky that we might barter for?”

“Something about this big, maybe?” Luke added, holding his hands not quite a foot apart. “Sort of square, and rather heavy for its size?”

“I might,” Roger said, scratching his beard as his gaze moved to Luke. “You know anything about satellite dishes? ’Cause this thing,” he muttered, kicking the sled, “knocked my television dish clean off my roof last June, just before it smashed into the trees behind my cabin. I fashioned another dish from the blasted thing’s parts, but I only get half the channels I used to.” His gaze narrowed. “I mightbe able to find something about the size you want, if’n you get all my channels to come in. As well as those sweet bar thingies your missy just mentioned.”

“I know a little something about satellite dishes,” Luke offered.

Roger snatched up his shotgun, grabbed the rope handle on his sled, and started off up the tote road they were camped beside. “Then come on, people! We only got two hours of daylight left. And today’s Wednesday, and Survivormanis on tonight. I already missed nearly six months of episodes.”

Luke stood beside Camry, both of them watching the man disappear around a curve, Max hot on his heels. Tigger, getting mired in the deep snow, rushed back to them and started whining.

Luke scooped up the dog. “Does AuClair look familiar to you?” he asked, still staring up the road. “Those green eyes of his, maybe?”

“I can’t say,” Camry murmured, “what with all that wild hair covering everything.” She glanced up at Luke. “How does he know our names? And what did he mean, he’s been waiting for us to show up for weeks?”

“I suppose we’re going to have to ask him.” Luke opened the door of the snowcat and set Tigger inside, then headed back to the tent. “Let’s get dressed and secure everything here so we can catch up with him.”

Luke crawled inside the tent, sat on the sleeping bag, and slipped off his boots to pull on his pants. “You know anything about television dishes?” he asked. “Because short of tying the old hermit up and ransacking his place—which, despite my actions to date, is one crime I refuse to consider—it looks as if we’re going to have to repair his dish if we want Podly’s data banks.”

Camry fastened her pants, then slipped back into her boots. She reached over and shut off their catalytic heater, then quickly straightened their sleeping bags before heading back outside. “How many rocket scientists does it take to repair a television antenna?” she asked with a giggle.

“Two,” Luke said, crawling out behind her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “One to stand on the roof holding the aluminum foil, and the other one to tell him which direction to turn.” He kissed her again, then hugged her so tightly she squeaked. “We just found Podly,” he whispered.

“Let’s not start celebrating just yet,” she warned. “For all we know, Roger AuClair dismantled the data bank and is using it for a tea tin.”

Luke dragged her to the snowcat. “Don’t even think it!”

Camry sat at the rickety old table in the ramshackle old cabin, sipping the peppermint tea Roger had made her before he’d taken Max and Tigger outside to supervise Luke as he repaired the dish.

The cabin sported two rooms, the dividing wall fashioned from mismatched snowshoes; several broken skis; and a large number of crooked sticks—some with the bark carefully removed to expose beautiful knots. An assortment of dishes and dented pots were neatly stacked on shelves beneath a sagging counter holding a pockmarked enamel sink and hand pump that looked more rusty than solid. The large wood cookstove sitting in the center of the sidewall, radiating the heat of a sauna, was covered with cast-iron pots wafting up steam that smelled of citrus and cloves.

Basically, Cam might have thought she was sitting smack in the middle of the nineteenth century but for the giant flat-screened television hanging on the opposite wall. On each side of it, rising from floor to rafter, were shelves crammed full of books. Sitting just a few feet in front of the television was a fine-grained leather recliner that looked as if it belonged in a New York penthouse. And tucked into every available nook and cranny scattered around the cabin were what appeared to be pieces of Podly—some the size of a gum stick, some as big as a basketball.

She did not, however, see anything that resembled a data bank.

Hearing Luke’s footsteps on the roof—which creaked threateningly under his weight—Cam reached into her coat and pulled Podly’s transmitter out of the pocket. She stood up to glance out the window and saw Roger sitting on the ground, fighting back two ecstatic dogs as he called instructions up to Luke.

Cam looked down at the transmitter. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Fiona,” she whispered as she started walking around the cabin, holding the tiny instrument out in front of her. “But if this is about that bib I gave you that said Shamans Rock,you’re a smart enough girl to know that I was only trying to piss off your daddy. You’re going to grow up to be a wonderful drùidh just like your parents, probably even more powerful. And really, I truly enjoyed spending time with you this past week—even if you were only messing with me. But please, Fiona, don’t mess with Luke. He’s such a good man, and he’s trying so hard to make up for eavesdropping on Podly. Help me help him find the data bank . . . in one piece,” she tacked on as she continued around the cabin.

“A-and while you’re at it, could you help me figure out if this ache in my chest is because I love Luke more than I fear the magic? Because if that’s what’s making my heart hurt, then I’m afraid you’re also going to have to help me find the courage to do something about it.”

The little transmitter suddenly chirped, and Cam stilled on an indrawn breath. “Where?” she whispered, moving the instrument left and then right.

It chirped again when she started walking toward the front of the cabin, giving a series of beeps that increased in frequency. As she waved it back and forth like a homing device, it eventually led her to the front wall, then started vibrating when she passed it near a dusty old frame hanging at eye level.

It took Cam a moment to realize she was looking at some sort of certificate. She pulled down the sleeve of her sweater, rubbed away the dust, and suddenly frowned.

Roger AuClair was a justice of the peace?

She squinted to read the date, but the ink was smudged by what appeared to be a thumbprint. June something, the year two thousand and . . . something.

She held the transmitter next to the frame, and it started vibrating excitedly again. Cam’s heart thumped madly, and a flurry of butterflies took flight in her belly. “What are you saying?” she whispered.

The cabin door beside her suddenly opened, startling Cam into tossing the transmitter into the air with a gasp of surprise. It bounced off an equally startled Roger, causing Luke to bump into him when the old hermit stopped in midstep. All three of them watched as the transmitter clattered to the floor, rolled up against the leather recliner, and loudly chirped.

Roger walked over and picked it up just as Max tried to grab it. “Dag-nab-it, what are you doing back here, you infernal thing?” he asked the instrument. He held it toward Camry. “You make it stop that blasted noise, Missy MacKeage, or I swear I’m going to take my shotgun to it.”

When Cam only gaped at him, he thrust the transmitter toward Luke. “I thought I’d seen the last of this blasted thing when I gave it to Fiona.”

Luke stopped in midreach. “Did you say Fiona? She was here?”

“Of course she was here.” Roger slapped the transmitter into Luke’s hand. “Who do you think told me to expect you?”

“Fiona Gregor?” Luke glanced uncertainly at Camry. “How old is she?”

Roger’s eyebrows drew together. “Yes, Gregor. And I never know how old she’s going to be when she shows up.” He held his arm out at eye level. “But this time she was in her teens, about yeahigh, with long blond hair and big blue eyes.” He kissed his fingers with a loud smack. “And she bakes the sweetest pies this side of heaven.”

“When was Fiona here?” Camry asked.

“Well, let me see,” Roger murmured, smoothing down his shaggy white beard, then tapping his fingers against it as if counting. “Last time, it was almost three weeks ago.” He nodded toward the transmitter. “I bartered her six apple pies for that thing. But what she didn’t know was that I would have given it to her for free.” He suddenly scowled, pointing at them. “But don’t you go telling her that when you see her, you hear? It would hurt her feelings,” he said with a nod. “She was beside herself happy, thinking she was getting the best end of the bargain, ’cause I didn’t tell her it suddenly starts squawking for no reason. I spent the good part of last summer tearing this cabin apart looking for a mouse before I realized it was thatthing making those little noises.”

Camry inched closer to Luke and slipped her hand into his, taking a fortifying breath when he quietly squeezed it. “I noticed you’re a justice of the peace, Mr. AuClair, and I was wondering if you perform weddings?” she asked, squeezing Luke’s hand in return when he stiffened. “And what you might charge for your services.”

“Well now,” Roger said, his eyes glinting in the setting sunlight coming through the open door. “That would depend on what you might have that I’d want.” He arched one bushy brow. “I’d be willing to barter for that big dog of yours, seeing as how I lost my own faithful black friend almost thirteen years ago. He wasn’t half as handsome as your Max, what with his missing part of one ear and his eyes being foggy, but he was all heart, I tell you.” He nodded. “I’d marry you two up for Max, but you can keep Tigger. She’s friendly enough, but she don’t seem all that practical, what with having almost no legs and needing to wear that prissy sweater.”

“I’m sorry, but Max is—”

“Will you please excuse us, Mr. AuClair?” Luke said, cutting Cam off by dragging her out the door. “We’ll just be a moment.”

Luke led her a fair distance from the cabin, then spun around to face her. “Mind telling me what you’re up to?” he asked, a distinct edge in his voice.

“I’m accepting your proposal.”

“Now? You want some crazy old hermit to marry us?” He took hold of her shoulders. “Camry, this isn’t the time or the place. I asked you to marry me only hours ago, and that’s not enough time for you to make that kind of decision.”

Cam’s heart started pounding so hard that her ribs actually hurt. “A-are you having second thoughts?”

“No!” His hands on her shoulders tightened. “But if we’re not legally married, then you won’t believe you’re trumping the universe.”

“But he’s a real justice of the peace. I saw his certificate hanging on the wall.”

“That certificate is probably as old as the cabin.”

“No, it was issued to Roger AuClair by the state of Maine in the year two thousand and something. It’s real. It even has the Maine seal on it.”

“But we don’t have a license. Or witnesses. And I’m not an American citizen. This isn’t a decision you can make in a few hours and then do in two minutes.”

“You young folks needn’t worry about the paperwork,” Roger said, waving some papers as he walked toward them. “You’ll be legally wed. Fiona brought me your license,” Roger continued when Luke spun around in surprise. He handed the papers to him. “She filled out all your information, and she even signed as your witness.”

“That’s impossible.” Luke scanned the page, then flipped over to the next page. “Who in hell is this other witness, Thomas Gregor Smythe?” he asked, turning to Cam when she gasped.

“H-he’s an old hermit who used to live in Pine Creek. And he’s also Winter’s . . . grandson,” she whispered, her heartache turning to dread when Luke took a step back.

She glanced briefly at Roger AuClair, then back at Luke. Only instead of calmly explaining what she finally realized was going on, Cam suddenly threw herself into his arms. “I’ve spent my whole life running from the magic!” she cried. “And instead of hating me for it, the magic gave me you!” She looked up, blinking back tears as she clutched his jacket. “Please, Luke, I need you to love me uncompromisingly, unpretentiously, and . . . and unconditionally,” she ended in a desperate whisper.

Luke took hold of her shoulders and held her away from him. “But the real Fiona Gregor is only five months old. And her mother is younger than you are. Thomas Smythe can’t be Winter’s grandson, because he isn’t even been born yet,” he growled. “None of this is making any sense, Camry.”

“Miracles don’t have to make sense,” Roger interjected, drawing Luke’s attention. “That’s the unconditionalpart of love, Renoir. It’s what causes a mangy old pound mutt to hold on to a child who would love him forever for nearly an hour, and compels a mother to wait twenty years,” he said, looking at Cam, “letting the secret to ion propulsion orbit the world until her daughter is ready to take ownership of her destiny.” He nodded toward the papers Luke held crushed in his fist. “And it’s opportunities given to those courageous enough to look deep inside themselves, and accept what they see—flaws and all—as the miracles they are.

“It’s not the magic you’ve been running from, Camry,” he continued gently. “It’s your extraordinary passion for life. Your baby sister’s powers have always seemed so overwhelming that you assumed you had none of your own. But the magic works for everyone, including those who won’t accept it, and those who don’t understand it.” He shot her a wink, gesturing toward Luke. “ Especiallythose who don’t understand it.”

“Wh-who are you, really?” she whispered.

He smoothed down the front of his tattered coat with a shrug. “Let’s just say I’m a very old distant relative, shall we?” He puffed out his chest. “But I assure you both, I have the authority—and the means—to make your marriage legal and binding. That is, if you’re both brave enough to follow your hearts.”

He held up his hand when she tried to ask him another question. “As for your little worry about getting pregnant, let me assure you that the choice has alwaysbeen yours. And now Luke’s, too, of course,” he added with a nod. “Your sisters knew they wanted children, so Providence simply granted each of them their wish—though maybe not quite whenthey wished,” he added with a chuckle.