Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
T he Black Isle Bar hummed with Friday night energy, but the real warmth came from the huddle of friends who had come to say farewell to Alexandra. Fairy lights strung across dark wooden beams cast a gentle glow over their large party, though no one was calling it that.
"Just a wee gatherin’," Duncan promised, when he'd arranged it.
Alex sat in the corner of a worn leather booth, tucked between Bronagh and Meg, while their husbands fetched another round. Everyone treated her with kid gloves in honor of her widowed state, but later, their attention turned celebratory when word spread wildly that she carried Spreag’s child.
An excellent excuse for another round…for everyone but her.
"I still can't believe you're leaving tomorrow.” Wren nursed a coke across the table from her. "Though I suppose Arizona weather is better for the wee one."
The mention of her pregnancy brought fresh tears to several eyes. Alex had lost count of how many times she'd been hugged since she’d arrived, how many hands had reached to touch her still-flat belly as if bestowing blessings.
"She's glowing already," someone said loudly nearby, and Spreag gave her a wink. He stood at the edge of the booth enjoying the sight of so many friends who had once been fellow ghosts.
More friends arrived—more former ghosts with their wives, though only the original six knew about Spreag's continued presence. The Black Isle grew crowded as people pulled up chairs, shared stories of their own first pregnancies, many of which were ongoing.
"Remember when Shug tried to change his first diaper?" Wren’s eyes danced. "Poor Maddox. Took the man four tries and four nappies. Before he was done, Maddy was asleep with his wee arse in the air."
"Ach, well,” Shug picked up his drink and toasted himself. "The bairn survived, didn't he?"
"Thus far.” Wyndham laughed.
The evening wore on with stretches of laughter and tears, full of stories and promises to stay in touch. Alex found herself wondering, not for the first time, if she was making a mistake. These people were family—the kind of family that would help a child thrive. They understood what it was to love someone beyond death, beyond reason. They'd survived their own impossible love stories.
But when her eyes found Spreag's again, the wonderful kinship faded into the background. All she needed, all she’d ever needed, was him. And they needed privacy while their lives—her life—found a new normal.
Their home waited for them in Arizona. Their future—however strange—lay in the desert sun, not the Highland mist.
"We'll visit," Bronagh promised, squeezing her hand. "Soon after the child comes, yeah?"
"And ye'll come back," Duncan added. "Won't ye?"
"Of course." Alex smiled through tears. "They’ll need to get to know all their Culloden cousins.”
A chorus of "aye" went up around the table, and toasts were made to the future, to family, to love.
Since she’d already turned in her rental, Alex stood outside in the crisp night air while Shug brought his car around. Stars peeked through breaks in the clouds, and a gentle breeze carried the smell of the river.
"Ready for tomorrow?" Shug handed her into the car.
"I am.” She glanced at the pub's steamy windows and the faces barely visible within. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to be just fine.” Once he was seated behind the wheel, she thanked him for all he’d done for her.
"Auch, none of that now." He patted her shoulder. "Save the waterworks for the mornin’. I'll pick ye up at seven sharp."