Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
Winter had settled over the glen not as an enemy, but as a companion.
The loch lay frozen smooth beneath a pale, luminous sky, its surface catching the winter sun in shards of light. Frost crept over every branch along the shoreline, turning the bare trees into lacey silver.
The cold bit sharply at their skin, but it was the kind that made one feel awake rather than weary.
Ava laughed as Nathan flew past her across the ice, his skates scraping with confidence that still frightened her.
“Slow down!” she called. “Ye’ll fall on yer back if ye daenae watch where ye’re going.”
She wondered if she would ever stop worrying over him.
Probably nae.
“I willnae!” Nathan shouted, his voice ringing clear and strong across the loch. He wore layers of wool, and a thick scarf was wrapped twice around his neck, the ends bouncing wildly as he moved. “I’m fast now!”
He attempted a turn—far more ambitious than wise—his arms windmilling before he caught himself with a triumphant grin.
“See?” he said proudly. “Didnae fall!” His dimples popped as he successfully landed another turn.
Ava pressed a hand to her chest, half in relief, half in wonder.
There had been a time—had it really been only a year?
—when she had feared she would never hear him shout like this again.
Never see him so sure in his body, so loud in his joy.
Back then, she could scarcely imagine him speaking full sentences, let alone shouting joyfully across a frozen loch.
Thalia skated past them more cautiously, her skirts hitched just enough to keep from tangling, her posture careful but determined.
“I still think this is a terrible idea,” she said, though her smile betrayed her. “Ice is nay friend to sensible people. I prefer mud and dirt and plants.”
Nathan laughed. “Ye’re just scared, auntie!”
“I am absolutely scared,” Thalia agreed cheerfully. “That means I’m clever, little lad.”
Ava laughed, skating closer to her sister. “Ye’re doing well, takin’ it slow.”
Thalia glanced down at her feet, then back up. “I havenae fallen as often as I did last winter, at least.” She laughed self-deprecatingly.
“Aye, that’s an improvement, Sister,” Ava said gently.
Caden joined them then, gliding easily across the ice, his movements steady and assured. He reached for Ava’s hand without thought, his fingers entwining with hers as though they had always belonged together.
He had not worn his mask in a year, leaving it and the moniker behind. People knew him as Laird MacCabe now, the Masked Laird no more than a legend.
“Ye’re smiling,” he noted quietly.
“Am I?” Ava replied, putting a hand over her mouth.
Thalia skated on ahead. “Nathan, wait for me!”
“Aye,” Caden said. “That smile ye get when ye’re thinking about how far we’ve come.”
She leaned into him slightly. “Ye ken me too well.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’m learning. I’ll spend the rest of me life learning ye.”
Ava’s heart melted, as it did every time he reminded her they had forever to share.
She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I was thinking that if he grows any faster, we’ll have to build a bigger castle.”
Caden laughed—the kind of laugh that still caught her off guard with its openness. A year had changed him. Not softened him, precisely, but stripped away the hardness that had once masqueraded as strength.
“He’ll grow into it,” he said. “Just like we all do.”
Nathan and Thalia skated back toward them. The boy was holding his aunt’s hand, helping her skate. It was quite funny to see a four-year-old helping a twenty-one-year old. Their cheeks were flushed, their breath puffing in little clouds.
“Can we have the fire now?” Nathan begged.
Thalia brightened. “Aye, please. Me toes are beginning to resent me.”
“Aye,” Ava said, ready to sit down. She had been more out of breath as of late. “Let’s warm up.”
They made their way carefully off the ice and toward the sheltered edge of the loch, where a small fire already crackled. It was built earlier by Caden and Nathan, the stones carefully placed, the wind blocked just so it would not blow out.
Thick blankets were spread over the snow, weighed down at the corners by stones or logs. A basket sat nearby, filled with bread, cheese, apples, and a small jar of honey that Thalia had insisted on bringing. It was a perfect setup.
Nathan dropped down immediately, reaching for a loaf of bread and shoving a large chunk into his mouth. His jaw worked hard and fast at chewing.
“Slow,” Ava urged. “Ye’ll choke.”
“I willnae!” he replied after swallowing the massive bite.
“Nathan,” Caden scolded. “Listen to yer maither. Daenae be cheeky.”
The boy opened his mouth wide to pop in another chunk, then paused and took a smaller bite. “See? I listened.” He grinned widely.
Thalia laughed softly. “That’s a miracle.”
Caden settled beside Ava and stretched his legs toward the fire. She relaxed back against his solid chest with a contented sigh. Thalia sat opposite them, tucking her skirts neatly beneath her before extending her hands toward the fire.
For a while, they ate in easy silence.
The fire crackled. Somewhere across the loch, a bird twittered. The world felt wide, quiet, and kind.
Eventually, Nathan broke the silence, chattering about skating and ice and how Uncle Finlay had promised to teach him to throw stones properly come spring.
“And Aunt Thalia promised to teach me about plants,” he added. “The good ones and poisonous ones.”
Thalia raised an eyebrow, before popping a bite of cheese into her mouth. “I said we’d talk about the differences.”
“That’s what I said,” Nathan replied cheekily.
Ava rolled her eyes and smiled at her sister. “Ye’ve taken on the role well.”
Thalia shrugged, though her eyes shone. “Someone must teach him how to survive foolish men.”
Caden coughed and shook his head, his brow furrowed. “I’m right here.”
Thalia smirked at him. “Exactly.”
When Nathan paused at last to breathe, Ava cleared her throat.
“I ken we arenae wearing crazy clothes, but I have a crazy story,” she said nervously.
Nathan’s head snapped up. “Now? Here?”
“Aye,” she said. “Here and now.”
Thalia leaned over and tucked a small flower behind her sister’s ear. “There, now ye’re wearing something crazy.”
Caden turned to Ava, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Should I be concerned?”
“Probably,” Ava said lightly, with a wink and a smile.
She had been hiding a secret for some time, and now was finally ready to share it.
Nathan scooted closer, practically vibrating. “Tell it, Ma.”
Ava took a deep breath. Her fingers curled into the blanket, which did not escape Thalia’s notice. As always.
“This story,” she began slowly, “is about our family.”
Nathan grinned broadly. “I like those. They’re me favorite, Ma.”
“Aye.” Ava smiled at him. “I ken ye do.”
She rested a hand on her belly, the motion small but unmistakable.
Thalia’s breath caught, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. Caden noticed too, his attention sharpening instantly.
“In this story,” Ava continued, “there’s a brave boy who once fought off a terrible fever. Once he survived it, he decided that the world was meant to be lived loudly.”
“That’s me,” Nathan declared proudly, puffing out his chest like a man ready for battle.
“Aye, lad,” Ava agreed. “And there’s a laird who thought his heart was made of stone.”
Thalia snorted softly.
“Och,” Caden scoffed.
“What?” Thalia laughed. “It’s true!”
Caden shot Ava a desperate look. “I’m surrounded.”
“And lucky for it,” Thalia quipped.
Ava rolled her eyes. “Can I finish me story without ye two bickering?”
They muttered their apologies, knowing they would start bickering again soon.
Ava took another deep breath. “One day, this family learns that it’s about to grow.”
Nathan frowned. “Grow how?”
Ava met his eyes. “Soon, ye’ll have a braither or sister.”
The silence that followed was full of growing understanding and joy.
Nathan blinked, piecing her words together. “A bairn?”
“Aye.” Ava grinned, glowing in the sunlight.
“For us?” He rose to his feet, vibrating with excitement.
“For us.” Tears welled up in her eyes. Everything made her cry lately.
Nathan’s face crumpled—not in fear, but in joy so precious that it made her tears spill over.
“I can help!” he cried. “I’ll be gentle, I promise. I can hold the bairn and take them on walks and feed them!”
Thalia’s eyes filled at once. She reached out, cupping Ava’s face tenderly. “I’m so happy for ye!” Then she reached for Nathan and pulled him into her lap. “Ye’ll be the best big braither in the world.”
Caden turned to Ava. “Ye’re certain?” he rasped, love and hope written all over his face.
She nodded earnestly. “I am.”
He kissed her then and there, before the fire and the frozen loch and their wide-eyed boy. It was not hurried, nor restrained. It was the kiss of a man who had finally learned to accept happiness when it was offered.
When they broke apart, Nathan wrapped his arms around them. “Our family is growing!” he shouted.
“Indeed, our family is growing. Ye’re going to be a big braither.” Ava kissed his head.
Caden rested a hand on Nathan’s back, the other covering Ava’s on her belly.
Later, after a long talk about the future and more ice-skating, the fire burned low, and the sun dipped toward the hills.
“I could get used to this,” Caden breathed.
“Ye say that every time ye stop working for more than an hour,” Ava drawled.
“And yet ye keep letting me forget me duties.” He nudged her softly
She smiled faintly. “Someone has to.”
Caden snapped his fingers. “Och, we’ll need to write to Finlay,” he said. “Tell him the wonderful news!”
Ava nodded. “Aye, he’ll want to ken.”
Thalia smiled. “He’ll pretend to be all proper in his letter and then immediately ask when he can visit.”
Caden chuckled. “He’s been impossible to convince to visit lately. He’s taken the responsibility of running the clan seriously, since they decided to postpone the merger until Nathan comes of age. He’s been determined to do it right.”
“He always is,” Ava said, thinking of all the times her friend had looked out for her, and how different her life would have been if she had married him.
Caden sighed. “I told him he should stop working so hard.”
“And what did he say?” Thalia asked knowingly.
“That he would once he fell in love.” Caden rolled his eyes.
Ava smirked. “Like ye did?”
Caden met her gaze, steady and sure. “Aye, me Lady. Like I did.”
The fire faded into embers as the cold deepened. Nathan leaned sleepily against Thalia, who wrapped him in her cloak. Ava rested against Caden’s shoulder, his arm strong and warm around her.
A year ago, Ava had thought love was something taken from her. Now, she knew better.
Their love was hard-won, imperfect, fiercely alive. This was only just the beginning.
The End?