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Nunton, Isle of Benbecula, Scotland
Approximately one second after Coll knocked on the door
June 1746
“Coll!”
Coll jumped when Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the door. “What are ye doing? I thought ye were going to visit yer family.”
“I did.” She grinned at him then waved dismissively at Angus, the steward at Nunton, when he opened the door with a scowl. “Never mind. Go about your business.”
Catching Coll’s hand, she tugged him in her wake around the manor back the way they’d come moments before. Her russet hair bounced in the sunlight. Even from feet away, he caught the fresh floral scent. Her smile and the blush on her cheeks bespoke a buoyancy that hadn’t been there moments before. Whatever had happened, it left her in a state he wasn’t certain he’d seen before.
He pulled her to a stop, unable to stifle the answering smile that played on his lips. He’d admitted he’d been worried when she said she wanted to go home for a visit. However brief, he’d feared it might be the last he saw of her. His heart had begun to sink before he raised a hand to knock on the door. Now...
Och, her eyes danced with the same joy and anticipation that had danced through his heart since they swam in Loch Nan Uamh so many months ago.
Her warm fingers caressed his jaw then slid into his hair. “I’ve missed you.”
Though it had been barely a minute, he knew precisely how she felt. “I’ve missed ye, too, mo ghrá.”
She was on her toes as he bent his head. Her lips were soft and eager as they parted with a sigh beneath his. His heart jolted as if it had been a sennight since he kissed her instead of minutes. Wrapping his arms around her, he molded her curves against him and deepened the kiss. Tasting her, so sweet and tempting. Her heady scent lifted on the breeze off the ocean and swirled around them until he was lost.
Thoroughly. Happily.
In her. With her.
He was so lost, in fact, it took a full minute for the truth of the situation to sink in. Lifting his head, he stared down into her bright eyes. “Ye’re staying.”
“Always,” she promised. “Forever, if you’ll have me.”
“Och, just try to leave my sight again,” he teased. “I could barely stand the heartache once.”
“Three times was enough for me.” Ginny beamed up at him. “I’m not going anywhere. And to be clear, because I’m pretty sure I didn’t mention it before—I love you, Coll. So much I couldn’t even recognize it for what it was. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
Something buoyant filled his heart. He wasn’t certain what to call it as he’d never felt anything like it before. “Ye see it now.”
“I do.”
“Say it again.”
Stroking his cheek, she met his eyes and repeated with absolute sincerity. “I love you. I love that you’re strong, that you have conviction. That you care so much about your people and the world around you. That you’ll fight with me and for me. You are everything home is supposed to be. Now you are mine.”
Coll’s heart pounded in his chest and he silently sent a prayer of thanks heavenward for giving him so much. This was more than he deserved. Unable to help himself, he kissed her again. Hard, until she swayed in his arms.
Ginny was here. His heart had long been hers and now he had hers in turn. Nothing else mattered.
Except.
“Prince Charlie is well?”
“It all turned out as it should. Now shut up and kiss me some more.”
With a chuckle he complied, only to be interrupted a moment later by the distinct sound of a throat clearing. Coll looked up to find a pretty brunette grinning at him. Her distinctive eye color told him she bore some relation to Ginny.
“Ye maun be Brontë.”
“Yes, hello. Sorry to interrupt but things were getting a little...um, involved there, and you may have forgotten you have an audience.”
Beyond her he saw the boatful of oarsmen awaiting him and the broad grins upon all their faces. An unusual warmth crept into his cheeks and he pulled himself a few inches away from Ginny but kept an arm around her waist. “I should thank you.”
“Don’t!” She waved her hand dismissively. “I wanted to make sure my sister was going to be in good hands before I left her here. And I got my answer.”
“What do ye mean, leave her here?” he protested. “Ye dinnae take that gadget away, did ye? My lass should always have options. I’ll do naught to create a prison of regrets from which she cannae escape.”
“Life with you will never be a prison. It will be my world,” Ginny assured him with a radiant smile. “Without a single regret.”
Her warmth infused him. “Then keep it so I can share yer world wi’ ye.”
“That I can do.”
Contentment washed over him and Coll pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, then shifted his attention to the man beside Brontë. “Ye maun be Tris, then.”
The man smiled affably and they shook hands. “Aye. It is my pleasure to meet my future brother-in-law. I hope you dinnae mind if we’re frequent visitors? Brontë will want to see her sister often.”
“I would enjoy that.” Coll cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Though I maun confess I dinnae even ken where we will live as yet.”
Ginny wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, smiling up at him. “I know a place. And a few more we can visit, too.”
Curiosity struck. “Aye?”
“You can add my friend Aila to the list,” Brontë told them. “She’ll be here in about two years and will be happy to have a friend close by.”
Coll got the feeling it wasn’t proximity she referred to. “We will be glad for her friendship.”
“And her future husband’s. Finn will be glad to have someone around who truly appreciates his situation.”
And what a situation it was! One as unique and fascinating as Ginny herself. He smiled down at his love. Life with her would keep him on his toes.
She returned the gesture and squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter where we are. Together we will always be home.”
“Aye,” he said, smiling. A wave of contentment washed over him. Whatever else, they always had a home with each other. Forgetting their audience, he kissed her again with the promise on his lips, then looked down at her with a frown.
“What do ye mean, three times?”
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