Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Laura sat on the old stone bench in the Abbey garden, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she stared at the wilted lavender before her.
Nieve approached quietly, her soft steps barely making a sound on the worn flagstones. She lowered herself beside Laura and waited.
“I feel lost, Nieve. It’s as if I’ve been torn from the very place me heart calls home. I should feel peace here, yet all I feel is emptiness.” Her eyes glistened as she looked toward the chapel spire, its shadow long in the morning light.
Nieve reached out and gently touched her arm.
“Aye, lass, I understand,” she said softly.
“When life tears ye away from what ye love, it leaves a wound that nay prayer can mend overnight. But ye must trust that God’s hand guides even the hardest roads.
” Her tone was gentle, but there was strength behind her words.
Laura turned to her, tears welling up. “But what if I’ve lost His hand too? What if I’ve strayed so far that even the Almighty cannae find me?” Her voice trembled as she spoke, raw with pain. “I thought marriage was me path to light, but now it feels like it’s led me into darkness.”
Nieve gave a small, patient smile. “Then let the darkness teach ye to see, Laura,” she whispered.
“The Lord doesnae abandon His children, even when they wander. Sometimes He lets the storm rage, so we ken what it means to be carried home again.” She squeezed Laura’s hand, and for the first time in days, Laura felt the faint warmth of hope stir within her chest.
Their conversation had softened into silence when the sound of quick footsteps broke the calm.
Poppy came running across the garden, her dark curls bouncing, her blue eyes wide with urgency. She tugged at Laura’s skirt and began pointing furiously toward the Abbey’s front gate, her small chest heaving.
“What is it, wee one?” Laura blinked and rose to her feet, confused. “What’s got ye so riled?” she asked, crouching to the child’s level.
But Poppy only pointed harder, her mouth moving in desperate silence as she shook her head and stamped her foot. Laura looked at Nieve with worry in her eyes.
Nieve frowned slightly and nodded toward the path.
“Let’s go see what’s the matter,” she murmured. Together, they followed the child through the cloister and out toward the great wooden gate. The sound of distant hooves reached their ears, steady, strong, and coming closer.
Laura’s breath caught. Through the mist that hung low over the road, two riders emerged. The lead horse was black as midnight; the second was a chestnut with a white blaze down its nose.
Her heart dropped to her stomach, thudding painfully as her gaze fixed upon the tall figure astride the black horse. Even before she saw his face, she knew.
It’s Bradley.
Her pulse quickened as his broad shoulders came into view. Alan rode beside him, his expression steady as always, though there was a hint of relief in his eyes.
Laura gripped the gatepost for balance, her knees weakening beneath her. Every emotion she had fought to bury over the past days rushed through her like a tide.
The horses slowed to a halt just before the gate.
Alan dismounted first, offering a courteous nod. “Greetings, ladies,” he said with a respectful bow of his head, his tone warm but formal. “A fine morn to ye.” He grabbed the reins of both horses ready to lead them to the hitching post, as Bradley swung down from his horse.
He stood tall before the gate, his cloak dusted with the road’s grit, his hair tousled by the wind. For a long moment, he simply stared at Laura. She took this time to confirm he was truly there before her.
Then his voice, rough and low, broke the silence. “Laura… I beg a word with ye.”
Laura’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Her breath trembled in her chest as she looked at Nieve beside her.
The novice nun’s eyes softened with understanding. “I shall give ye two some privacy,” she said kindly. “Come along, Poppy.” She placed a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder and led her away toward the garden.
Now it was only Laura and Bradley; the world hushed around them except for the distant caw of a crow.
Laura stepped forward through the open gate, her hands clasped tightly before her. The gravel crunched beneath her slippers as she stopped just a few feet from him. They stood there, face to face, saying nothing. The silence stretched between them, thick and charged, like the calm before a storm.
Her heart ached at the sight of him, his tired eyes, the way his jaw was clenched as if holding back a flood of words. She wanted to be angry, yet seeing him again unraveled every thread of resolve she had sewn.
Bradley’s voice was hoarse when he finally spoke.
“Ye look well, lass.” His gaze flicked over her modest gown, her braided hair, and the small cross at her throat. “The Abbey agrees with ye.”
Laura swallowed hard, her voice quiet but firm. “Aye, it does,” she said. “Peaceful and kind, unlike the day ye sent me away.” Her words trembled, though she fought to keep her tone steady.
He winced, the pain clear in his eyes. “I ken ye’re angry, Laura. Ye’ve every right to be. But I couldnae let ye stay; it was for yer own safety.” He took a step closer, his expression pleading.
She lifted her chin, refusing to yield. “Safety?” she echoed bitterly. “Ye call castin’ me out into heartbreak and shame ‘safety’? I gave ye everythin’, me trust, me heart—and ye threw it aside as if it were nothin’.”
Bradley’s shoulders stiffened. “I did it to protect ye,” he insisted, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s darkness in me, lass, darkness ye shouldnae have to live with.” He clenched his fists at his sides. “I thought I was nae a fit man for a woman like ye.”
Laura’s eyes flashed with pain and fury.
“Ye daenae get to decide that for me,” she said sharply.
“Ye speak of darkness as if I’ve nae seen me own share of it.
I kent the man I chose, Bradley McCormack, and I cared for him, flaws and all.
” Her voice cracked, tears welling despite her efforts. “But ye wouldnae let me stand by ye.”
He stared at her, speechless, his throat working as if to find the right words but failing. The sight of her tears undid him more than any sword could have. Finally, he whispered, “Laura… I’m sorry.”
The words hung between them like a fragile truce.
Laura took a trembling breath. “If that were true,” she said softly, “ye would’ve come for me sooner.” She turned away, her tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked toward the Abbey walls. “Ye should go. There’s nothin’ left for ye here.”
Bradley reached out, his hand hovering near her arm but not daring to touch. “There’s everythin’ left for me here,” he said quietly. “Ye’re here. Me bairn is here.” His voice broke on the last word.
Laura froze, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she turned to face him again, her eyes wide and wet. For the first time, she saw the raw truth in his face: regret and desperation.
They stood there in the quiet of the Abbey courtyard, hearts aching, eyes locked. Neither spoke again, for words had lost their power. The air between them carried everything, the pain, the love, the longing still unbroken.
And as the wind stirred the folds of her cloak and his cloak brushed the dust of the road, Laura realized that, no matter the distance, their souls had never truly parted.
Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Laura, pulling her tightly against him. The warmth of him, the strength in his hold, it was everything she had missed, everything she had dreamed of, and yet, she pushed back against it.
Her palms pressed against his chest, shoving him away as tears welled in her eyes.
“Daenae do that, Bradley,” she said, her voice trembling as she took a step back. “Ye cannae just come here and throw yer arms around me as if naught happened. Ye sent me away. Ye made it clear ye didnae want me, nor the bairn.” Her chest heaved as she spoke, every word cutting her like glass.
Bradley’s jaw tightened, his expression pained. “Aye, I ken I did, lass,” he said hoarsely. “And I’ve cursed meself every day for it. I was a fool, scared, stubborn, and blind. I thought I was protectin’ ye when all I did was wound ye.”
Laura’s voice cracked as she replied, “Aye, ye wounded me, Bradley. Ye near broke me.” She shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “And now ye come ridin’ here as though ye’ve changed, as though all the pain and sleepless nights meant naught.”
He took a step closer, but she backed away again, clutching her shawl tight around her shoulders.
“I came to bring ye home, Laura,” he said softly, his voice raw. “I cannae live without ye, and I’ll nae pretend otherwise. I was wrong, dead wrong, to let ye go.”
Laura’s lips trembled as she stared at him. “Home?” she repeated bitterly. “Ye mean the place where I’m dismissed whenever ye lose yer temper? Where I’m made to feel like a burden ye cannae stand? Nay, Bradley. I’ll nae go where I’m nae wanted.”
He moved closer again, his eyes shining with grief.
“Ye are wanted,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “More than anythin’ in this world. I was a damned coward, Laura. I thought pushin’ ye away would spare ye from the darkness in me. But all it did was tear us both apart.”
Laura’s breath hitched as she looked at him, torn between longing and anger.
“Ye daenae ken what it was like,” she whispered. “Walkin’ away from the castle, carryin’ yer bairn, wonderin’ if ye’d even care when I was gone.” She turned her face away, trying to steady herself. “I cannae bear to live through that again. I cannae have ye send me away a second time.”
Bradley reached for her hands, and though she resisted, he gently caught them in his own.
“I’ll never send ye away again,” he said earnestly. “Nae for all the storms in the Highlands. I love ye, Laura. God help me, I love ye more than I’ve words to say.” His voice cracked as he spoke, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
Laura’s heart ached at the sound of those words. She had dreamed of hearing them, but now they frightened her more than anything.
“Ye say that now,” she said quietly. “But love isnae just words, Bradley. Ye’ve got to prove it. Ye’ve got to show me ye can love me through yer pride and yer anger, nae just when it suits ye.”
“I will, lass,” he said, his tone fierce with conviction. “I’ll prove it every day for the rest of me life if ye’ll only give me the chance. I ken I’ve wronged ye, but I cannae let ye go. Nae again. Nae when I’ve just found the courage to tell ye the truth of me heart.”
Her tears fell freely now as she looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “And what if I cannae forgive ye?” she asked softly. “What if it’s too late, Bradley?”
He shook his head, stepping closer until there was scarcely a breath between them.
“It’ll never be too late, Laura,” he whispered. “I’ll wait as long as ye need. I’ll earn yer forgiveness if it takes me whole life to do it.”
Laura stared up at him, her heart torn between the past and the promise before her. His words stirred something deep within her, something that had never truly died.
“Ye’re a stubborn man, Laird McCormack,” she murmured.
“Aye,” he said, with a faint smile ghosting his lips as a tear rolled down his cheek. “But I’m stubborn for the right reasons now. For ye. I love ye.”
Laura looked at him, her chest rising with uneven breaths as the storm within her began to quiet.
The fury and hurt that had burned through her now softened into something else, something far older, far truer.
This was what she had wanted all along, what her heart had whispered for in the lonely nights since leaving the castle.
She wanted him, Laird McCormack, the man who had broken her heart but also made it beat stronger than it ever had before.
A small smile trembled at the corners of her lips as she stepped closer, her eyes glistening with both love and tears.
“Bradley,” she said softly, her voice a fragile whisper. “I love ye as well. I always have. So, I’ll forgive ye, but ye’ll have to make it right.” The faintest trace of a teasing smile flickered through her tears as she lifted her chin to meet his gaze.
Bradley’s heart swelled; his eyes filled with relief.
“Aye, lass,” he said hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll do whatever ye wish. There’s naught I wouldnae do to earn yer heart again.” He reached out, brushing a loose curl from her cheek, his touch trembling with reverence.
Laura’s eyes searched his face, tender yet firm. “Then listen well, Bradley,” she said. “Ye can never send me away again. Nay matter the storm, nay matter the anger in ye, I’ll nae leave me home nor me husband again.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word, but she held his gaze steady.
Bradley swallowed hard and nodded solemnly. “Ye have me word, lass,” he said. “On me life, I swear I’ll never send ye away. Nae for a day, nae for a breath. Ye’ll stay at me side where ye belong.” His voice shook with sincerity, and she saw the truth of it in his eyes.
Laura nodded once, then folded her arms as if to gather courage. “Good,” she said with quiet firmness. “Then ye’ll also see to the Abbey roof. It leaks somethin’ terrible when it rains, and I’ll nae have the sisters sleepin’ drenched another night.” A soft glimmer of humor touched her eyes.
Bradley’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Aye, lass. Consider it done,” he replied warmly. “The roof will be fixed before winter’s chill sets in, ye’ve me promise.”
Laura’s expression softened again. “And one more thing,” she whispered. “Ye must love me and love our bairns with all ye’ve got. Ye must never turn cold on us again.” Her voice trembled with vulnerability, her heart laid bare.
Bradley’s eyes glistened as he took her hands in his. “I promise, Laura,” he said thickly. “I’ll love ye and our bairns till the end of me days. Ye have me word, me heart, and all that I am.”
Her lips parted with a breath that was half a sigh, half a sob. “Then I shall return with ye,” she whispered. “Home, to Castle McCormack.”
With that, he drew her into his arms, and she did not resist this time. Their embrace was fierce, filled with the ache of all they had endured and the hope of what lay ahead.
When his lips found hers, the kiss was deep and full of promise, an unspoken vow that whatever storms came next, they would weather them together.