Epilogue
Three months later
Deep in the Scottish Highlands
Alana stood in a meadow that only weeks ago had been filled with the beautiful, vibrant colors of heather, staring at the modest cottage she and Rory built together. Well, she helped in any way she could, but he, along with the help of his father, brother, and brother-in-law, did all the hard work.
She wrapped the shawl she was wearing tighter around her shoulders, as a brisk wind moved past. The shawl was a gift from her mother-in-law.
Lillias Hart was one of the sweetest people Alana had ever met.
She very much stepped into the mother role and took over when Alana’s mother made it kenned that she and Alana’s father would nay longer be visiting.
They were grateful for all the Hart’s had done when it came to absolving them of their debts but found the situation embarrassing and Alana a reminder of the better days they were expecting.
She tried to not let the realization that they were more concerned of their welfare than they were of hers drag her down to a dark space.
Instead, she held her head high, and bid them farewell.
Quickly, Lillias swept in, doing all the things a mother normally would for her child, and Alana hoped that she kenned how appreciative she was for that. For all of the Harts for that matter. They had all been welcoming and treated her as their own kin. It was a lovely feeling.
And now, as she looked at her quaint home, designed by both she and Rory, happiness overwhelmed her.
They were still on Hart lands, but in a northern corner where no one else was about.
Trees bordered the back of the house, the mountains close by, so Rory could hike and climb to his heart’s delight.
The meadow of heather surrounded them, and in front, they looked over a small loch.
It was beautiful, serene.
Quiet, calm.
“What are ye daydreaming aboot?” Rory asked from behind her, appearing with a fishing net slung over his shoulder, a huge smile plastered on his face. He lifted a bucket. “I caught supper.” An even bigger grin transforming his face.
He bent and kissed her cheek, nodding toward her muddy hands. “Ye’ve been busy, aye?”
She laughed. “I wasnae daydreaming. I was admiring our home.” She held her hands up, grimacing at how dirty they were. “I finished planting the herbs in the garden. I hope they can survive the winter.”
“They will. I shall build a shelter around them to ensure they do.”
“Ye are too good to me.”
“Quite the contrary. I dinnae deserve ye.” With a devastating smile, he disappeared inside the door, and she followed.
Moira and Errol joined them for supper. Out of all of Rory’s siblings, Alana got on best with Moira. And though Rory and Errol got off to a rocky start when he first married Moira, Alana had watched their friendship grow and they now seemed more like brothers.
“We brought ye something,” Moira said after they had finished eating the salmon that Rory had caught in the nearby river.
She grabbed the bag she had traveled with and reached inside, pulling something to her chest, but Alana couldn’t see what it was.
“Now, first ye need to promise me that ye willnae laugh.”
Alana was affronted. “Whye’er would I laugh at a gift given from the heart?”
“Ye will see. Howe’er, I think ’tis important that ye ken that I am not entirely proficient in needlepoint.”
Rory’s eyes rounded. “Ye stitched?” He balked.
“Remember,” Errol spoke up. “She stitched my wounds with adept hands.”
Alana’s eyes rounded. That was a story she hadn’t been privy to.
Moira rolled her eyes. “Ignore them. Anyway, I made this for ye.” She handed over a cloth and when Alana unrolled it, she sucked in her breath. Delicate stitching depicted their home, the loch in front, the mountains in the back.
“’Tis beautiful,” she whispered.
“Dinnae look too closely. Ye will see otherwise,” Moira jested.
“Nay. ’Tis truly a treasure we will cherish. Thank ye.”
She stood up and wrapped Moira in a hug.
After stories of Rory’s childhood and many teasing laughs, they said their goodbyes. Moira and Errol returned to their own home, even though Alana and Rory made the offer for them to stay for the night.
They waved their goodbyes and watched them disappear down the path and shut the door. Rory helped Alana with the dishes, and she was thankful for their unconventional partnership when it came to household responsibilities.
“I cannae remember a time when Moira picked up a needle and thread—that didnae involve stitching a wound—to create something to hang.” He tilted his head to the side and studied the needlepoint that had been gifted to them.
“’Tis really lovely. She really captured the beauty of our home and land.
It must have taken her quite some time.”
Alana wrapped her arms around Rory’s waist and squeezed. “’Tis.”
“On the morrow, I will make a frame to hang it in and then ye can let me ken where ye want it hung.”
“That would be lovely.” She lifted on her toes and kissed his cheek.
Later, as they sat in front of the fire, Alana rested her head on Rory’s shoulder as they watched the flames dance.
“Do ye miss the life ye left?” Rory asked quietly.
She smiled and closed her eyes. “No’ for a moment.” She lifted her head and caught his gaze. “This,” she waved her hand around their home. “This is e’erything I could have e’er wanted.”
And she meant it. Could she have lived a life where she never wanted for aught? Where she had the money for whatever she wanted. She could have, but she would have been miserable. Life with MacDonell would have been hell on earth. She kenned that the moment she met the vile man.
But here, her life was full. She had everything she could ever want or need.
She had Rory. Her world. And soon, if her belief was correct, she would have a wee bairn. The first of many, she hoped. She had not told him yet. She wanted to be sure first. But she kenned how happy he would be at learning.
She brought her mouth to his, and he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to their bedchamber.
Outside, the wind danced through the hills, and over the loch, chilling the air. But inside, there was only warmth—and love enchanted.
The End