Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T he desert night cooled the windows, and a shiver down Alexandra’s back brought memories of Scotland rushing back along with all the pain that went with them. She sat in the window seat, trying to read, but the words kept blurring. In a few months, she would have to find a more comfortable spot to relax in.

"Will ye not eat something?” Spreag asked for the third time in an hour. "The babe needs?—"

"The baby is fine." She turned a page she hadn't actually read. "I had a big lunch."

"That was hours ago." He paced beside her, silently slapping his sides in a show of nerves he couldn’t possibly feel. "And ye barely touched it."

She lowered her book. "Are you going to hover like this the whole pregnancy? Because I don't think I can take thirty-one more weeks of it."

"Merely curious. I shall stop." Before she could read another word, he suggested she go to bed.

"Ye've been rubbin' yer forehead a good twenty minutes."

She slammed her book down. "Because you won't stop hovering!"

"I hover because I care." His form flickered slightly in agitation. "Because I can see--"

"Don't!" She swung her legs to the floor and stood. "Don't you dare tell me what you can see . You lost that right when you went to Scotland knowing you wouldn't come back!"

The words hung between them like acrid smoke. Words she'd been holding back since the days after the wedding, when she’d realized why he’d been so attentive--because he’d known he’d be killed.

Spreag's expression hardened. "Ye cannae think I wanted to leave ye?"

"I think if you really loved me, you wouldn't have insisted we go in the first place!" Her voice rose with each word. "You saw it coming. But you went anyway!"

"I had no choice!"

"There's always a choice!" She clenched her fists at her sides, wishing she could beat on his chest. Dying to cause him just a smidgen of the pain she’d suffered through, still suffered through. "You could have stayed home. We would have been safe. You could be here with me, right now, if only--!"

"And let Simon die instead?" His form wavered violently. "And if our leader had fallen, how many others might have followed suit? Would you rather those monsters had slaughtered the entire party? Including the wee’uns?”

"You could have warned them! Called it off! It’s not like they wouldn’t have trusted you!"

"Ye ken nothing was for certain. Sometimes I saw only probabilities--"

"You still chose them over me!" The dam broke and hot, long-suppressed tears streamed down her face. "Over me! Over us! Over our baby!"

Her front door burst open, followed by heavy footsteps. Callum rushed into the kitchen, eyes blazing. "Alexandra! Are ye alright?"

She hastily wiped her wet face on her sleeves. "I'm fine, I’m fine. What are you doing?"

His eyes scanned the empty room. "I heard shoutin'. Thought someone was..." He ran a hand through his already disheveled curls. "Who were ye arguing with?"

"No one." She forced a laugh. "Just venting. Good for the lungs. Like exercise."

He gave her a long look. "I heard ye from across the way. Sounded like…like ye were speaking to yer dead husband."

Alexandra's laugh died in her throat. She glanced at Spreag, who stood by the window with his brawny arms crossed. With a lift of his chin, he dared her to tell the truth.

So she did.

"I was." If that didn’t scare the man off, nothing would.

But instead of backing away slowly, Callum's expression softened and he nodded. "So…why did ye think he knew he would die? That he wouldn't be comin’ home with ye?"

She sighed dramatically. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"Because he was a seer. He could see the future."

To her surprise, Callum nodded again. “Weel, that makes sense then.”

"It does?”

"Aye. Ye cannae be a farmer, let alone a Scot, and not see miracles at every turn. Just the Lord workin’ in mysterious ways, isnae it?” His eyes held hers. "Never touched me personally until...until I caught sight of a black-haired lass waiting for the loo on an airplane."

He gave her an unexpected wink, checked once more that she was okay, then left as suddenly as he'd arrived.

When the front door closed with a snap, Alexandra turned to Spreag, who still stood by the window. "How can you just stand there while another man hits on your wife?"

"Is that what he was doin'?" Spreag's mouth quirked up at one corner. "I thought he was just bein' a good neighbor. Wasn’t listenin’ close. Next time, I promise to be more dutiful."

Her anger drained away and along with it, her energy, so she collapsed back onto the window seat. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--"

"Nay." He came closer until his toes nearly touched hers. "Ye needed to say it. I've been waitin' for it, truth be told." He sighed. "I did choose, love. I chose to save lives, knowing it would cost me everything. Including ye." His voice roughened. "But I also tried to leave ye with something of myself. Someone who would love ye as I do."

Fresh tears spilled and her hand moved to her stomach. "I do understand why you went. I do. I just..." She met his eyes. "I miss you so much. I thought having you with me would be as good as having you completely."

"I know, my love." He reached for her, then let his hand drop. "I do know."

Outside, a door closed softly. Through the window, she could see Callum standing on his porch, looking up at the stars. She wondered what kinds of magic he'd really seen, what made him so quick to believe.

"You win," she said. "I'm going to bed."

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "About time, woman."

As she climbed into bed, she felt lighter. The argument had cleared the air between them, letting go of words that had been poisoning her for a long time. She still ached for his touch, but the bitterness had faded.

They were taking it one day at a time. And maybe one day, that ache would fade too.