Chapter Eight #2
At the sound of the voice, the fear drained out of Maggie in such a powerful rush, she was left gasping for air. Her knees nearly buckled. The fireplace tongs fell to the floor with a clatter.
“Logan? ”
“Open the door, Maggie.”
She jumped forward, yanked the door open, and threw herself into his waiting arms. Just as quickly, she retreated, horrified. “Your wounds! Oh, did I hurt you?”
“No,” he said gruffly, stepping inside and shutting the door behind them. “Come here.” He tugged her back into his embrace.
For long moments, they stood holding each other at her threshold. Maggie closed her eyes, letting the questions simmer, but when they began to well, she pushed them aside. Later. For now she just wanted to touch him, to revel in his closeness.
She burrowed her head into his shoulder, breathing in his essence of heather and peat, and taking in his ever-present warmth. He pulled her closer, held her body flush against his, from head to toe.
“Why did you come back?” she whispered.
“Did you not wish me to?”
Her breath left her in a harsh exhalation. “I wanted it more than anything! I was planning . . .” She glanced at the bundle she’d began to gather on the bed. “I was going to slip away. To . . .” She took a deep breath. “To follow you.”
“I’m glad you would have come to me.” His arms tightened around her, and his lips pressed into her hair. “Even when I was the one to have failed you.”
Satisfaction flooded through her. There were no admonitions that it was a foolish plan, that she was too weak, that she would have perished in the mountains. Instead, he trusted her. He respected her enough to know she would have found him.
“You didn’t fail me, Logan.”
Turning from the bed to her, he slid a knuckle down her cheek. “I brought you something.”
He dug into the folds of his plaid and brought something out. She gasped. Was that her mother’s brooch?
“What have you done to it? ” She gazed wide-eyed at the enormous clear gem that had replaced the agate. “Is that a diamond?”
“I’m fairly certain it is,” he said. “And this is exactly how it appeared when I first saw you.”
“You went back to that place?”
He nodded. “I don’t know how—I wasn’t intending to go there. But when I stopped the horse, there I was. Your brooch was on the ground. Partially buried in water and mud, but the gem sparkled and caught my eye.”
“That gem?” she questioned, still not quite believing it.
He frowned at her. “Aye.” He turned the brooch over in his hand so they could study it from different angles. “You cannot believe this is an agate.”
She released a breath. “It was an agate last I saw it. It was . . . an amber color.” Now it was crystal clear, with the barest hint of gold that glimmered when the firelight washed over it.
And then it struck her. “Oh. Heavenly Lord . . .”
“What is it?”
She blinked at her brooch. “My mother. She said . . .” How could she voice it without sounding mad? “She said this brooch would tell me when I met my soul mate. The man I’m supposed to spend my life with. I . . . I think it’s telling me now.”
Logan’s frown deepened. “How can that be?”
“The agate has transformed into a diamond.”
For long moments, they both stared at the enormous gem, scarcely breathing. It merely sat on Logan’s hand, the dragon’s talons wrapped protectively over it, glittering in the light of the fire.
“Come home with me, Maggie.”
Her gaze snapped up to the harsh lines of his face. His wide forehead, thick brows, strong nose, and his dark eyes. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. The most masculine.
She reached up to touch his rugged cheek.
“I’ve never wanted to be taken care of,” she murmured.
“But when you are near me, Logan, I want you to care for me. I want your protection, the safety that I know you can offer me. I want to go home with you.” She swallowed, almost afraid to reveal her heart.
“But I wish to care for you as well. Protect you as well. I wish to be your partner. In all ways.”
Logan smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He paused, then swiped the pad of his thumb over the plump part of her lower lip. “I want to marry you, stand beside you, sleep with you. I want you to bear my children. I want to grow old with you.”
“But . . .” She took a deep, sobbing breath. “But what of Torean and Innes? They’ll come after you.”
“Munroe is dead, Maggie.”
“What?” she gasped.
“I killed him.”
“What . . . what happened?”
Setting the brooch on the arm of the chair, he once again drew her close. “I found Munroe abusing a woman named Mary Steward.”
“Poor Mary,” Maggie breathed. “Did Torean see what happened to her?”
Logan nodded.
Maggie pushed out a breath. “He finally understands what a brute Innes is.”
“Aye. After the duel, he asked me to stay at the castle for Hogmanay. I think, even before I told him about Munroe blinding me, he suspected the man had cheated—”
“Is that what Innes did to you?” she breathed. “Blinded you? I didn’t know. I was certain something horrible had happened.” She touched a fingertip to the corner of his eye.
“Aye.”
“But you can see now?”
He nodded. “The effect was temporary.”
“So Torean understood and regretted his promises to Innes, but was trying to work out how he could honorably repudiate those promises without gaining the enmity of the Munroes?” she asked.
“Exactly. He is still cautious and unsure of his leadership, and I think he was taking his time to work out his final decision on the matter. He was trying to be wise. Yet when he heard the gunshot and saw Mary Steward so ill used—well, he regretted Munroe’s fate no more than I did.”
She looked up at Logan in wonder, stroking her hand along his cheek. A late-n ight dark bristle had broken out over his jaw, and it scraped against her fingertips. “You’ve saved me after all. Twice.”
“He’ll never bother you again. And he’ll never hurt another woman.”
She shuddered. “I . . . I’m glad.”
“I brought you something else.” Logan dug into the folds of his plaid and brought out two small packets. He handed them to her. “Open them.”
She complied, grinning when she saw what they contained. “Salt. And coals.”
“Your cousin asked me to give them to you. He said you’d understand.”
She looked up at him. “Does this mean . . . ?”
“Aye, Maggie. He’s given us his blessing. Munroe is dead, so there is no more lure of a political alliance with his clan, though he assured me that the politics no longer matter to him. The laird has approved our union.”
Emotion surged through Maggie, so sweet and so strong she could scarcely breathe.
Logan Douglas was her destiny. The look of love in his eyes obliterated any lingering doubts she might have held on to. He was hers. The agate in her mother’s brooch had transformed into a diamond, confirming it.
“I love you,” he said. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, and when you awoke and opened your mouth to challenge me I loved you more.
When we made love the first time, my love for you grew, and then it grew more in the days afterward as we lay together, sharing ourselves with each other.
I love you as I’ve never loved another soul. Will you be mine, Maggie MacDonald?”
“Aye, Logan Douglas. If you will be mine in return.”
He touched a callused fingertip to her lips. “Aye, my love. I will be yours.”
Sweet happiness swelled in Maggie’s chest. She pushed her fingers into Logan’s silky black hair and drew his head close.
“I love you, Logan Douglas,” she whispered, gazing into the shining depths of his eyes. Then she leaned forward and claimed the soft, masculine lips that would belong to her forevermore.