Page 136 of The Speed of Lightning
Eoghan wheeled his horse with a wink. “She’s a sweet wee dappled cart mare, smooth as cream for an easy ride to the cog. Name’s Poppet. I…em…borrowedher from a farm up the road.”
Cota Liath lifted his head from Beithir’s chest. “Poppet, did you say?”
“Aye.”
A faint smile touched his thin cheeks. “God sent a poppet. I guess we’ve made amends.”
But already MacDonald guards were spilling into the village edges, streaming toward them.
Rock rolled his eyes. “Enough talk—let’s go, let’s go!”
Poet’s arms tightened around Lightning’s waist. He kissed the crown of her head, and together they fled.
Epilogue
INVERLUSSA, JURA - NOVEMBER 9, 1387
Calum crouched beside his sleeping wife and brushed a finger across her nose. Freya’s lashes fluttered but her eyes stayed closed. Grinning, he tickled her nose again. Still nothing.
Her lips parted, breath soft against his skin, and once more he was undone by her beauty. Leaning in, heart thudding like it had the first time he’d kissed her, he pressed his mouth to hers.
She stirred, lifting a hand to his cheek, and sank into his kiss. When she smiled that radiant, sun-bright smile, his chest clenched.
“You’re back.”
Bog’s tail thumped wildly, knocking over a cup by the bed. Calum pulled off his cowl and crouched to mop the spill. “Och, you miserable dog.”
Freya bent forward, pulling Bog’s fuzzy head close and peppering it with kisses. “Dinnae scold my baby. I’ve missed him, too.”
Calum only smiled, giving a sharp whistle. By the fire, their newest hound, Mossy, lifted her head. “Come, lass. We’re going for a walk.”
At the word walk, both dogs exploded with excitement, leaping and spinning across the Chieftain’s quarters.
Freya yawned. “Why are we going walking in the middle of the night?”
He held up his plaid with a grin. “The stars are out, and if ye dinnae remember, we were married one year ago today. I thought it would be nice to mark the occasion.”
“I remember. Doyouremember what happened the last time we sat under the stars?” Her hand drifted across the growing roundness of her belly.
He bent to kiss her again, savoring the feel of her lips after so many weeks apart. “I warned you at Moy that’s what I wanted for us. And besides—there’s no danger of it happening again…at least not with the same end result.”
She rolled her eyes. “Cheeky lad.You did warn me.”
Sleepily, Freya slipped her hand into his and let him guide her into the cold. Outside Somerled’s longhouse, the night sky opened above them, lit with thousands upon thousands of stars. Her breath left her in a misty sigh as she stepped into the chill, wonder spilling across her face.
Their fingers twined as they walked the auld path to Lealt, and for a moment he was carried back to the first days of their marriage. So much had changed in a single year: Da and Maw were gone. Ragnall was gone. He was chieftain in his own right. A war had been declared. And before spring, he would be a father.
Yet with his lass beside him, all was right in his world.
The rowan tree stood silent sentinel in the heathland, its branches bearing the last red-orange berries of the season. Of all the things that had changed, it remained—the same tree where he’d first drawn her close. He shook out his plaid and laid it on the ground, pulling Freya into his lap as he leaned back to admire the dusting of stars above.
“How far away do you think the stars are?”
Freya smiled and turned her head, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Closer than my next breath.”
He caught her lips with his own, grinning against her mouth as his hands slid beneath her plaid to cradle the fullness of her womb.
She broke the kiss, pulling a face. “Och, I feel like a cow.”
