Chapter Sixty-One
“Have you got everything?” Laynie slammed the door to the truck and tiptoed to peer into the rust-covered bed.
“I think so.” Emma pulled her coat collar higher about her cheeks, squinting against the bitter cold wind lashing across her face. Blinking hard against watering eyes, her already churning stomach lurched at the sight of several familiar faces waiting at the stones. “Why are they here?”
“Because when you leave with Torin, they’re going to be here for me.” Laynie cleared her throat and pulled her wool scarf higher across her face. “Remember our deal, Emma. No looking back.”
Emma swallowed hard, nearly choking on the big lump of doubt lodged in the center of her throat. Laynie seemed so certain that this was going to work. Emma wished she could be that sure. And if it did, she’d be back to the difficult decision of leaving her sister behind. Tucking her short curls behind her ears, Emma knotted the thick wool plaid tighter beneath her chin. “Will you really be all right, Laynie? What will you do when I’m not here anymore?”
Laynie’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she swiped a blonde strand of hair out of her face with a mittened paw. “I’ll be fine, Emma. Especially if I know you’re happy.” Casting a glance in Alex Mackenzie’s direction, she fixed Emma with a knowing grin. “And besides, I think I might’ve found somebody who’ll be willing to keep me company.” Turning back to Emma, the corners of Laynie’s mouth quivered with a resigned smile. “You’ve taken care of me and made sure I was happy all these years. It’s time you allowed someone to take care of you and give you a little happiness.”
“You really think you can be happy with Dr. Jerk?” Emma glanced up the hillside at the figures milling about the stones. Alex was there with his gaze firmly fixed on Laynie. Emma still didn’t like the man but she remembered the sparks she’d sensed in the cottage when she’d discovered the two of them together.
“He’s not a jerk, Emma,” Laynie laughed. “He’s just hard-headed. He kind of reminds me of you.”
“Thanks a lot.” Emma snorted before wagging a motherly finger in Laynie’s face. “Are you sure? You think he’ll really make you happy?”
“Positive.” Laynie fished a roped bundle from the back of the truck. “Now, come on. Gaynor said we needed to watch the position of the sun or this isn’t going to work and then you’ll be stuck waiting another year.”
Emma looked up at the hazy orb straining to glow through the cloud-banked atmosphere. December twenty-first. Winter solstice. She smelled the cold clean scent of an impending snow storm lurking on the horizon. The gray sky covered the hillside like a cozy flannel blanket draped across the land. “I hope Gaynor knows his stuff and hasn’t led us astray.”
The closer she drew to the upright columns at the head of the path, the heavier her footsteps grew. She hadn’t been back since the day she’d lost Torin to Arach. To look at the gray-black spires sprouting up from the ground, no one would ever imagine the hideous explosion the rocks had withstood. Emma hitched her coat snugger about her body, battling against the frigid cold surging from within.
“Remember. Gaynor said as soon as Torin’s hand joins yours on the sword, the two of you will cross into whatever realm Torin chooses.” Laynie caught her lower lip between her teeth as she wrestled Torin’s monstrous blade from the confines of the cloth bag.
“I remember.” Emma stared at the handle of the intricately engraved blade. Its surface swirled with Celtic knots and whorls all across the steel’s ancient patina. She still didn’t understand why she couldn’t just pull Torin back to this reality, at least long enough to ensure that Laynie was happy with her newfound love. But Gaynor had insisted that once she summoned Torin with his own sword, the Continuum would demand they travel to somewhere other than the present world. Since Torin loved her and held her presence in his heart, the Continuum would allow her to travel with him. Gaynor had grinned when he assured her that this was a guaranteed way to discover if Torin’s love was true. If she didn’t hold a place in his heart, the sword would cast her aside and send Torin on without her.
Noting the position of the faded sun struggling in the pale-gray sky, Emma took the sword from Laynie and swallowed hard as an eerie tingle transmitted up her arm. The magic of the sword recognized her touch. Gaynor had warned her it would be so.
She tightened her grip on the sword, balancing the weight of it between both hands. The long blade nearly doubled the height of her body as she hefted it above her head. As she screamed Torin’s name, she plunged the sword into the parallel column on the right. Gritting her teeth, she shoved the blade deep into the rock by slamming her body against the hilt.
A dull roaring rumble shook the ground. It started as a muffled grumbling and increased to a heart-stopping growl. The air crackled and popped with conflicting energy as though an explosion neared. Lightning bounced between the columns of stones, ricocheting off the imbedded crystals. The space between the spires shattered into a murky darkness swirling with flashes of light.
Emma yanked the sword from the grasp of the stone and stumbled toward the chaos. Glancing over her shoulder, she mouthed the words I’ll always love you to Laynie. Blinking hard against the threat of tears, she forced a reassuring smile on her face. They’d sobbed their good-byes at the croft last night and promised each other no regrets and no drama at the stones. Emma needed to focus all her energies and emotions on contacting Torin.
Pending tears glistened in Laynie’s eyes as she nodded and blew Emma a kiss.
Emma turned to the gateway, fighting the gale wind of chaos battering against her body. Forcing the weight of Torin’s sword over her head, she closed her eyes and screamed his name again.
A jolting heat engulfed her hands, wrapped around the hilt of the sword and seared down both her arms. Emma barely opened her eyes, squinting against the debris-filled maelstrom and found herself locked in Torin’s gaze.
“Torin.” His name caught in her throat. She never thought she’d see him again.
“Emma.” Torin reached out, cradling her cheek in one rag-wrapped hand while gripping the sword with the other. “Are ye certain, my love?” His hoarse roar rang out above the howl of the wind; his breath brushed hot against her face as he crushed her against his chest.
Emma pressed her mouth against the salty sweetness of his throat, inhaled his familiar, comforting scent, and reveled in the warmth of the man she feared she’d never see again. “More certain than I’ve ever been about anything,” she breathed as she closed her eyes.
“Then let our life together begin.”
A word about the author...
When Maeve Greyson isn’t trying to make the deer and squirrels leave a little birdseed for the birds, she’s typing out tales of brave kilted men and the feisty women who love them. She’s blessed with a husband who cooks, cleans, and goes to the grocery. Yes—she’s a lucky woman and she knows it. Her favorite saying is “No one has the power to shatter your dreams unless you give it to them.” So take care, dear readers and never give anyone that power!
~*~
Other Maeve Greyson titles
available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.:
BEYOND A HIGHLAND WHISPER
THE HIGHLANDER’S FURY
A HIGHLANDER IN HER PAST