Текст книги "Only With A Highlander"
Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
Matt held the bag by its drawstrings and dangled it in front of her. Aware the dining room was quiet enough to hear a mouse sneeze, Winter rubbed her damp palms on her pants, finally forced her gaze from the crow to the bag, reached out and took it from her husband.
But instead of opening it, Winter looked back at the crow that was still standing staring at her, his dark round eyes shining with what looked like amused anticipation.
“Open it, lass,” Matt softly commanded, placing his hands reassuringly on her shoulders again.
“Y-you open it,” she whispered, not moving.
“It’s not my birthday.”
Winter frowned at the bag.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Daar snapped from across the table. “Open it so we can see what the bird brought ye.”
Winter still didn’t move.
“You told me the crow in your dream brought you good news,” Matt whispered into her hair.
“So what has you worried, lass?”
Winter tilted her head back to look up at him. “What if it’s my tap root?” she whispered, well aware of the small but substantial weight in her hand. “What if the crow is really the strange energy who killed my tree, and he had only been trying to give me a false sense of hope in my dream? I—I haven’t heard from him for nine weeks.”
“If he’s that energy, then this is your chance to confront him,” Matt told her, turning her around to face him, likely so she’d quit staring at the crow. He reached for the bag she held between them. “I’ll open it, then,” he offered, pulling on the silk to loosen the drawstrings.
He opened the bag, held it up to look inside, and frowned. “It’s a statue,” he said, pulling out a tiny figurine.
Winter gasped and took it from him. “Tom!” she cried, holding up the granite carving of a bear whose body was wrapped around the figure of a woman made from wood. Winter spun back toward the table. “T-Tom?” she whispered, stepping toward the crow.
“There’s a note with the statue,” Matt said, holding a piece of rolled birch bark in front of her to see.
“Well, what’s it say?” Daar asked, glaring over Winter’s head at Matt. “Don’t keep us all in suspense. It’s a crow, for God’s sake, and he wants ye to read what the gift is about.”
Winter looked from the silent bird to the statue in her hand as she heard Matt unrolling the scroll behind her. The statue was an amazing work of art, intricately blending stone and wood together. The sleeping granite bear was only about five inches long and three inches wide, and it all but surrounded the wooden female figure lying inside its tender, protective embrace.
“It—It seems to be a wedding invitation,” Matt said into the silence, his voice thick with…Winter couldn’t decide if Matt was overcome with emotion or angry. He cleared his throat and began reading. “To all present who believe in the power of love, you are invited to the high meadow on Bear Mountain this afternoon at the time of the winter solstice, to witness the union of Winter Sutter MacKeage and Matheson Macalpin Gregor.”
Winter looked across the table when Daar gasped.
“You’re from the Clan of the Mist,” Daar whispered, his face as pale as new snow. “Yer great-great-grandfather was Mathe Macalpin, Bear of Gairn.”
“Aye,” Matt said thickly over Winter’s head, and she could feel the tension radiating from him.
She turned around. “What’s wrong with being from the Clan of the Mist?” she asked Matt.
“Nothing,” Daar said, causing her to turn back toward him. “It’s Mathe Macalpin that means something, girl. Legend says Mathe was the original drùidh,sent by Providence to straighten out the mess mankind had made of the world by that point.” He nodded toward the man standing behind her and shook his head. “Ye married Macalpin’s great-great-grandson, but Matt’s grandfather wasn’t the drùidhwho threw away his calling. It was yer grandmother, wasn’t it, boy?” he asked, lifting his gaze to Matt.
“Joan Macalpin.” Daar looked back at Winter. “Providence didtry to find a softer energy several millennia ago, but Joan wanted none of it. So Providence is trying again with you.”
“But what does Matt’s heritage have to do with anything?”
“Maybe ye should ask him,” Daar suggested, nodding at the silent crow still perched on the table.
Winter tightened her fist around her statue and looked down at the bird. The crow spread its wings, lifted its beak, and let out a loud cawthat echoed though Gù Brath. It rose from the table to glide past Winter, and she spun around to watch it land on Matt’s shoulder, where it looked down at the scroll in his hand.
“There—ah, there’s more,” Matt said, staring at her with unmistakably worried eyes before he looked back at the note and began reading again. “The ceremony will be presided over by Father Thomas Gregor Smythe.”
Matt looked at Winter when she gasped. “T-Tom’s a priest?” she whispered. “And—And a Gregor?” She lifted her gaze to the crow, then back to Matt. “He’s related to you? But how?”
Apparently forgetting he had a crow sitting on his shoulder, Matt shrugged. The startled bird gave a disgruntled cawand rose into flight, swooped over the stunned crowd, and disappeared through the open front door, leaving only silence in its wake.
Winter looked down at the statue in her hand. “I don’t understand what’s going on,” she said, looking up at Matt. “Who is Thomas Gregor Smythe? And why were we just invited to our own wedding?”
“Because yer first wedding wasn’t witnessed by yer loved ones,” Daar said with a curt nod and smug smile. “I told ye that wasn’t right.”
“We have less than an hour before the solstice,” Greylen MacKeage added, and Winter looked up to find her papa smiling. “We need to get going before you miss your wedding, don’t you think?”
Winter looked around at the stunned faces of her extensive family, noting that those who had married into the MacKeages appeared confused. Although Winter knew all the husbands were somewhat aware of their wives’ rather strange heritage, this was likely the first time they were witnessing the magic firsthand. “I…ah, I don’t think the children should come with us,” she suggested, turning to look at her husband. “Because we’re not sure what we’re going to find,” she said, reminding him of his earlier worry back at their cottage.
Matt nodded and looked at Grey and Robbie. “She’s right,” he added. “It would be best if the children stay here. And anyone else who can’t make it through deep snow to the meadow.”
That left just her sisters and husbands, her parents, uncles and aunts, and a few grown cousins, Winter figured. Well so be it. Whatever they were about to encounter at the cliff, they would stand united.
Utter chaos once again ruled as parents explained to their offspring that they were leaving for a while, but that they’d be back soon to continue the party. Children cried, those staying behind tried to soothe them, and everyone else went in search of their coats and boots.
Matt took Winter by the shoulders and turned her toward him. “He’s lived here for almost three years. What do you know about Tom?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she said, clutching the statue between them. “Only that he showed up one April morning, moved into your cabin, and that his carvings are beautiful works of art.” She shrugged. “I don’t even know how he supports himself. He always gives the money from his carvings to people in town who need a little financial help.”
“He was obviously a pilot,” Matt said, “considering how he handled that jet this morning.” He shook his head. “I don’t know any Thomas Gregor Smythe.”
“D-do you think it’s safe for everyone to go to the meadow?” Winter asked. “What if it’s a trap?”
“To trap what, lass? A bunch of women and a few men, most of them old? For what purpose?”
He smiled and smoothed her hair back from her face. “You’ve trusted Tom this long, maybe you should trust him now. You’ve never felt anything dark or foreboding when you were with him, have you?”
“No,” Winter said softly, looking down and fingering the head of the bear statue. “I always felt…I felt peaceful when I was with Tom.” She looked up. “Didn’t he make you want to just crawl up on his lap and tell him all your secrets?”
Matt gave her a lopsided grin. “No, I can’t say Tom ever had that affect on me,” he drawled.
He took the statue from her and studied it. “Is this us?” he asked, holding it up for her to see. “In our cave, that first night I came to you?”
“No, the second night,” Winter told him, taking back the statue. “Once there were no secrets between us, and you came back and kept my nightmares away, holding me safe and secure so I could have a dream that promised hope for our future.”
Matt had just cupped her face and was leaning down to kiss her when he suddenly stilled with the strangest expression. He slowly broke into a smile that made his eyes gleam with golden warmth, and he kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “Are you ready to hear me repeat my vows of trust and loyalty to you, Winter?” he whispered, pulling mere inches away from her lips.
“Yes, I am.”
He kissed her again, then straightened with a laugh. “Then come on, Mrs. Gregor,” he said, taking her hand. “It’s time to go meet our future.”
Chapter Twenty-six
T he new road leading downbeside the meadow could have been in Boston during rush hour, it became so clogged with vehicles. Then, getting everyone across Bear Brook without anyone drowning was a feat worthy of an engineer. Robbie ended up having to carry Daar through the deep snow, as the old priest had refused to stay at Gù Brath and miss all the excitement. There were less than five minutes remaining to the solstice by the time everyone was standing at the base of the cliff, though they could have been in church they were so quiet. Even the late-December weather was cooperating; the low-hanging sun was shining a weak but brilliant red, not a whisper of wind was blowing, and the air felt like Indian summer in October.
Tom suddenly appeared, walking up from the meadow and silently moving to stand at the base of the cliff in front of everyone. At least Winter was pretty sure it was Tom. The man had Tom’s expressive eyes and features, but he was cleaned up quite nicely and dressed in a ceremonial robe and headdress like nothing Winter had ever seen before. The long robe was modern if not futuristic looking, while still possessing ancient Celtic detail. Across the front of his…cassock, for lack of a better word, was a large depiction of a tree of life embroidered in what looked like spun gold threads. The tree wasn’t any species Winter recognized, but looked to be a combination of both a majestic oak and a mighty eastern white pine.
Tom raised his hands and cleared his throat, though it wasn’t really necessary since everyone was curiously silent. “I wish to thank you all for coming here today, to witness Winter and Matt pledging themselves to each other,” Tom said, his soft voice carrying over the crowd.
Winter opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again when Matt squeezed her hand.
“Laird Greylen and Grace,” Tom said, inclining his head toward them. “You’ve given the world a remarkable group of girls, and I wish to personally thank you for that.” His eyes twinkled. “I am also thankful you didn’t stop at only six daughters, as I am especially endeared to your seventh.”
This time when Winter tried to speak up, Matt wrapped his arm around her and squeezed.
“And Pendaär,” Tom addressed next, looking at the frail priest standing beside Robbie. “You served your calling well and can finally find peace in the knowledge that you are the very reason we’re here today. Enjoy your retirement, old man, and bask in the sun on your mountain for a good long while yet.”
“MacBain,” Tom said with a chuckle when Robbie groaned at the prospect of Daar’s longevity.
“I wish to thank you for taking such special care with my grandmother these last twenty-five years, by being both Winter’s guardian and friend.”
It was a good thing Matt had his arm around her, so he could catch Winter when her knees suddenly buckled, just as a collective gasp rose through the crowd.
“Yeah,” Tom said, walking up to Matt and Winter. He reached out and touched Winter’s jacket, just over her belly, and smiled. “That’s my mama you’ve got growing in there.”
“But—”
Tom cocked his head. “Did you never consider that if your husband and Robbie and Pendaär can so readily travel back and forth in time, that someone from the future might not also do the same one day?”
“But…you…you’re our grandson? But you’re old!” she blurted, only to wince and shake her head. “I mean, I can’t picture having a grandson older than I am. It…it’s—”
“It’s magic,” Tom whispered, his twinkling eyes lifting to Matt. “In about forty years you’re going to take me on my firstsupersonic ride, and get me hooked on flying at the age of eight.” He moved his gaze to include Winter. “I’m not your daughter’s first child, you see. I’m her third. I have an older sister and brother, and a younger brother as well.”
“Are they…are they drùidhs?”Winter whispered. “Any of them? A-are you?”
Tom smiled. “We all have our special gifts,” was all he said. “Which you will discover…in time.”
“But—”
He touched his finger to her chin. “Patience, Grams. What’s the point of getting out of bed in the morning if you already know what’s going to happen? The real magic is living each day as it comes, the joy being the anticipation of what’s around the corner.”
He nodded toward Matt but continued looking at Winter. “Take your husband, for instance. He had no way of knowing if what he put into motion all those centuries ago would get the results he wanted or not. Hell, he couldn’t even predict yourresponse to him, but that didn’t stop him from trying.”
He looked at Matt. “If you had known you’d be standing here today, deeply in love with your wife, would you have proceeded with your desperately conceived plan?”
“At the time, being who I was and how I felt about the world in general?” Matt asked even-toned. He shook his head. “No. I would have done anything to avoid engaging my heart.”
Tom nodded and looked back at Winter. “And that is why I’m not answering one question about what happens from this moment on, no matter how hard you work your considerable charm.”
“But you just told me I’m having a daughter,” Winter pointed out with a smug smile.
Tom smiled even more smugly. “For your firstborn,” he said with a shrug. “After that, well, don’
t you just wonder how many there’ll be, and what they’ll be?”
He laughed at her glare, but it was Daar who spoke next. “Are ye getting on with marrying them or not?” he asked. “Ye have two minutes to the solstice, and Winter can’t be pregnant and not married proper. It’s blasphemous.”
“It’s ancient thinking, Father,” Winter said, turning her glare on Daar. “And we are married. We got married in Las Vegas.” Winter suddenly snapped her gaze to Tom, squinting up at his laughing eyes.
“You! You’re the Mad Hatter who married us,” she yelped, pointing at him, only to narrow her eyes again. “Our witnesses. Who were they?”
“My brothers and sister.”
“Our grandchildren?” Winter squeaked, clutching her jacket over her chest. “Th-they witnessed our marriage?”
Tom broke into laughter and shook his head. “You looked like you expected them to steal all your money and clothes,” he said with a lingering chuckle.
Winter spun toward her also-amused husband. “Will you please quit laughing. This is not funny.
I still don’t know if we’re drùidhsor not.”
“Do you want to be a drùidh?”Tom calmly asked.
Winter spun back to face him. “We both have to be wizards. There’s still…stuff we have to do.”
“Ah, I see,” Tom said, turning and walking to the cliff. He stopped beside the solid wall of granite, turned back and waved them forward. “Then come be drùidhs. Open the entrance to the cave and see where your power truly lies.”
Winter looked up at Matt in uncertainty, but Matt was staring at Tom. Her husband suddenly took her hand and led her to the cliff. “How do we open it?” he asked, holding Winter against his side as they faced the cliff.
“Just ask it to open,” Tom said with a negligent wave of his hand. “Gently,” he added, giving Winter a wink.
Matt reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his fountain pen, and Winter quickly pulled out her sketch pencil.
Tom covered Matt’s hand with his own. “You don’t need it,” he said, turning his wrist to see his watch. “As of two minutes ago, your sword lost its ability to conduct energy.”
“No!” Winter cried, clutching her pencil. “Not yet. We need just a few more hours.”
“Ask the cave to appear,” Tom said calmly.
Matt reached out and placed his and Winter’s hands on the rough cliff, and Winter immediately felt the tingling warmth of a powerful energy pulsing through the granite. She pictured the old entrance to the cave, how it twisted to keep out the weather, and how the interior had felt warm and safe and welcoming.
Several gasps came from behind them, and Winter opened her eyes to find herself standing in front of a taller, wider entrance to an even larger cave. The interior walls glowed with several softly swirling colors this time, and the cave appeared to be four or five times its original size. It was also spotless, not one sign of the singed supplies they’d left behind.
And sitting directly in the center of the cathedral-like room was a larger-than-life-sized granite bear curled around a sleeping woman made of wood that was an exact replica of the tiny figurine the crow had carried to Gù Brath. Without even stopping to think, Winter walked right up to the statue and touched it, only to have her mind’s eye become washed in blinding light.
“She’s made of pinewood,” Matt said from beside Winter, taking hold of her hand so she wouldn’t touch it again.
“H-how did he do that?” she whispered. “How did he get the woman so snug inside the bear’s embrace? I don’t see any seams in the granite, but he couldn’t possibly have fit the woman in there without cutting the rock.”
“It’s one of my gifts,” Tom said from the other side of the statue. He looked at Matt. “You recognize the white pine.”
“You’re the one who cut the top off.”
Tom inclined his head.
“And the root. You stole the tap root last night. Why?”
Tom walked around to stand beside them and pointed at the woman nestled inside the bear.
“Do you see that faint image of her heart?” he asked. “Right under the bear’s paw? See how he’s protecting both the woman and their shared heart? The heart is made from your original tap root, Cùram, from your oak tree. And the woman is carved from the top of Winter’s pine.”
Tom then touched the tree of life emblem on his chest before he pointed up at the ceiling. “You’
ll find a new species of tree growing on the top of the cliff, and by the time I’m born, it will have scattered its seed to the protected valleys of Bear Mountain.”
“But why?” Winter asked.
“Because Providence hopesyou’ll both succeed. But just as you finally realized this morning when you were sitting with your dead pine, Winter, it takes a combination of strengths to do that. So a new tree of life has been created from your two trees, as a reminder to all of us.”
Winter blinked at the strange-looking tree on Tom’s chest. She looked up at her husband to find his expression unreadable, and then glanced back toward the entrance to see what Pendaär and the others thought of all this. “The entrance is gone!”
“Just temporarily,” Tom assured her. “We only need witnesses for your wedding, not for the decision you have to make now.”
“And that would be?” Matt asked, stiffening.
Winter slid her hand into his and also looked at Tom.
“You appear to think you still must choose which you want more, maintaining your marriage and having babies, or remaining drùidhsso you can keep your promise to Kenzie,” Tom said to both of them, but directing his words to Matt.
“No!” Winter cried, stepping between her husband and Tom. “That’s not fair to make him choose between me and his brother. It’s too cruel.”
“Then you choose for him,” Tom suggested.
“No!” Matt growled, pulling Winter back beside him.
“Then maybe I’ll choose,” Tom offered with a chuckle, “since I seem to have a vested interest here.”
“We each get to choose our own destiny!” Winter cried. She narrowed her eyes and pointed at Tom. “If you’re here, then that means we obviously chose marriage over being drùidhs.”
“Not necessarily, as that is but one of the risks we take when we indulge in time travel.” Tom waved his hand to encompass the cave. “This could all be nothing more than a dream. You could wake up and I would simply not exist. It is only the acts of the present that determine the future.” Tom smiled warmly at her. “So which would you choose, Winter?” he asked softly. “Your future with your husband and children or your calling to help Matt keep his promise to Kenzie?”
“I choose both!” she snapped, balling her hands into fists.
Tom nodded, then looked at Matt and grinned. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? And you, if you had to choose, which would it be, Cùram de Gairn, your marriage, or your calling?”
Matt said nothing.
Winter couldn’t decide if she should smack Tom or her silent husband. “That is not the way this is going to work,” she hissed at Tom as she turned to face Matt. “Think, Matt. As long as there is life, there is alwayshope. So dig deep and remember how you felt when you ran away from home and went after your dream of becoming a warrior. You thought you had found what you’d been searching for, but when it wasn’t all you hoped it would be, you picked up and went back home. And when that didn’t turn out very well, you picked up again and went looking for Kenzie.”
“And what happened then?” Tom asked. “When you found your brother, only he was dying?”
“I got angry,” Matt said.
“Yes,” Winter agreed, clutching his hand. “And lost hope.”
Matt looked at her, his eyes dark with pain. “I didn’t lose it then, lass. I lost it when Kenzie asked me to end his life.”
“Then how did you get this far?” Tom asked. “If you had no hope for the future, how come you came after Winter?”
Matt looked at Tom, seemingly startled. “I took a gamble she could help me. MacKeage’s daughter was my best chance to keep my promise to Kenzie.”
Tom smiled and looked at Winter. “There really is no such thing as hopelessness, you know.
Hope is an integral part of our collective energy, and it can never be lost because it’s not…it isn’t of this material world. It’s only human perception that becomes blind to hope’s existence.” He smiled at Matt.
“Winter can’t keep a promise you made, and you can’t keep it yourself as long as you remain blind to any part of the energy that makes us all who we are. If you want to hold onto your powers so you can help Kenzie, and if you want to hold onto Winter, then just open yourself to the full spectrum and realize that you canhave both.”
“He can?” Winter asked in surprise. She snorted and shook her head. “I was just being sarcastic.”
“You were being your spoiled rotten self,” Tom said with a laugh, looking back at Matt.
“Anything is possible as long as you remain open to allthe energy. Winter figured she’d choose being a drùidh,and thenshe planned to damn well figure out how to save Kenzie,” he said, smiling when she gasped at his insight. “That’s not blind faith, Matt, that’s wide-eyed faith. Not only must you trust the universe, but you must also trust yourself.”
Winter squeezed her husband’s hand again, but Matt continued staring at Tom.
Tom smiled. “The choice is still yours to make, Matt. But it’s not really between Winter and your calling, is it? It’s between you and yourself.” He looked over at the statue, then back at Matt. “We have entered a new millennium with this winter’s solstice, so what’s yourhope for the next thousand years? That maybe like Winter here, you believe you can have it all? Can you see your calling as a blending of each color of the spectrum, including hope, just like that couple in the statue? Open your inner eyes wide, Matheson Gregor, and the future will be whatever you make it.”
Matt stood stiff and silent for what seemed like foreverto Winter, and she was just about to really smack him when he suddenly took her hand and led her over to the statue. Together they reached out and placed their hands on the bear’s paw covering the woman’s heart; time stopped, the cave filled with a fullspectrum of swirling colors, and the sound of a single beating heart echoed throughout the chamber and strongly resonated through every cell in Winter’s body.
She squinted past the blinding light and saw the bear and woman’s shared heart gently pulsing in time with hers and Matt’s. And then Winter would swear she saw the smiling pinewood woman wiggle deeper into the bear’s embrace with a sigh of contentment.
“So,” Tom said, rubbing his hands together. “Are we having a wedding or not? Everyone must be freezing out there.”
“What about Kenzie?” Winter asked, turning away from the statue but still holding Matt’s hand.
“He’s likely standing at the back of the crowd,” Tom said, smiling at her surprise. “It’s twenty minutes past the solstice. You don’t think he’d miss his brother’s wedding, do you?”
“But we have to make him stay a man,” Winter said.
“He will,” Tom assured her, walking over to where the cave entrance should be.
“How?” Matt asked.
“United, you both possess the power to grant Kenzie’s wish,” Tom assured them, turning and inclining his head. “But please, allow me the honor as my wedding present to you both.” His bright blue eyes twinkled. “And maybe also as a little something for my great-aunt Megan, I’m thinking.”
Winter still couldn’t comprehend that she was talking to her seventy-something grandson on her twenty-fifth birthday.
“Ah, if I might make a suggestion?” Tom said, waving his hand at the cave. “Have you ever considered making this cliff part of your new home? You could incorporate a lovely log and stone structure into this cliff, so that the cave becomes…oh, I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Your bedroom, maybe?”
“Why don’t you tell us?” Winter asked, smiling smugly. “Surely you ran through the halls of our as-yet-to-be-built house as a kid.”
“And I explored every inch of Bear Mountain,” Tom said with a laugh. “And sailed Pine Lake and slept in the lakeshore cottage you’re staying in now.” His eyes twinkled again. “Do me a favor and don’t fix up the old camp on the point, okay? I kind of like it just the way it is.”
Winter clutched Matt’s hand. “Y-you’re leaving us tonight, aren’t you? You’re going back. I—
I mean aheadto your time.”
Tom nodded and smiled sadly. “I must. I’ve served my purpose here. You two need to realize your own future now.”
“But when will we see you again?” Winter asked.
Tom canted his head. “Oh, in about thirty-one years, give or take a few months. We’ll have lots of fun together, Grams,” he told her, then looked at Matt. “And you, Gramps, will have to persuade my mama to let you teach me to fly.”
Matt smiled back, and Winter’s heart warmed at how he suddenly looked so relaxed. “Being forewarned, I could just avoid that problem by teaching herto fly first,” Matt drawled.
“What in hell is going on in there!” they heard Daar shout through the granite. “We’re freezing our whiskers off out here!”
Tom stepped up to the wall but turned toward them. “If you will, please?” he asked. He waved his hand when Matt reached for his pen. “You don’t need anything but your strength of conviction to summon your powers from now on,” he told them, looking over to include Winter and giving her a wink.
“Gentle convictions,” he added. He looked back at Matt as he reached into his cassock pocket. “Oh, I almost forgot, this is for you,” he said, handing Matt a tiny piece of jewelry. “When you dug up Mathe Macalpin’s sword, you missed Fiona’s locket. She had buried it there the day you left, hoping you’d eventually come back to claim your destiny.”
“But she was only a child then,” Matt whispered, reaching for the locket with a trembling hand, then holding it in his palm as he stared down at it. He looked back up at Tom. “She was what…twelve?”
“She was a guardian,” Tom told him. “And she’s been watching over you for all this time.”
“But how? I never saw her again after I ran away from home. I would have at least sensed Fiona if she were near.”
“Do you not remember a large golden hawk perched nearby through the long day and night you lay dying in that field?” Tom asked softly. He smiled. “And she was with you countless other times, you’ll realize, once you think about it. When you didn’t want to go on but something made you anyway, know that it was Fiona who pulled you up by the bootstraps. And she’s been there for Kenzie for all these centuries. No matter what animal your brother became, Fiona mothered him each time.”
Winter looked at the locket in Matt’s hand and watched him close his fist over it and raise it to his lips. She squeezed his hand, using her free hand to brush away her tears of overwhelming joy.
“Winter!” Daar hollered again as they heard him pound his cane on the granite wall. “It’s dark and cold out here! Let us in!”
Matt quickly tucked the locket in his pocket, squared his shoulders with a fortifying sigh, and gave a negligent flick of his wrist toward the wall. The entrance suddenly appeared again, along with several cold-looking faces glaring at them.
“Come in. Come in,” Tom said, waving them forward. “I think you’ll find it much warmer in here. Step closer, the walls won’t bite. Father Daar, come stand beside me. I’m sure Winter wants to have your blessing as well.”
“And Matt. He wants your blessing, too, Father,” Winter said as she wiped away the last of her tears, even while having to tug on Matt’s hand to cut him off in mid-snort.
But then Winter went utterly still when she spotted the tall, long-haired stranger dressed in the Gregor plaid when he stepped inside the cave at the back of the crowd. “Kenzie,” she whispered, squeezing Matt’s hand.
But Matt had already spotted his brother. “Come, Kenzie,” he said, waving him forward.
“Everyone, this is my brother, Kenzie Gregor.” He slapped Kenzie on the back—rather hard—and laughed. “He’s standing up as my best man.”
