Page 39

W hen they finally arrived home, the front door was wide open as if it had been waiting just for them. The twins were inside, sitting on the rug by the cold hearth, their small shoulders shivering.

Connor looked up first, his eyes wide with surprise, and Ollie followed, their identical faces pale but so hopeful that it nearly broke Campbell’s heart.

Mabel didn’t wait. She let out a little cry and knelt down, gathering the boys into her arms. They didn’t even mind that Campbell was covered in blood. They reached for him too, clinging to his sides and burying their faces in his chest.

“Ye came back,” Connor whispered shakily. “Ye both came back.”

Campbell ran his hand through the boy’s hair, feeling the soft strands against his calloused palm. “Aye, lad. We wouldnae have left ye. Nae ever.”

Ollie rested his tear-streaked cheek on Mabel’s shoulder. “I thought… I thought ye wouldnae find us.”

Mabel planted a kiss on the top of his head, her lips trembling. “We would have searched the ends of the earth for ye,” she said softly. “Ye are our boys.”

Campbell looked at her then, and her gaze, so sure and open, eased the fear he had been holding onto.

They stayed like that for a long while, the four of them huddled together on the old rug, until the boys relaxed and stopped shaking.

Campbell looked around the room, seeing the plain wooden table by the window, the scuffed armchair that had been his father’s, and the small vase with dried daisies that Mabel had put together.

Everything felt different now. Everything felt right.

“Are ye hurt, Uncle Campbell?” Ollie asked, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.

“Just a few scratches.” Campbell tried to smile, though every inch of him hurt. “Nothing a bit of soup and sleep willnae fix.”

Connor straightened a little. “I’ll help make the soup.”

“That’s a fine idea,” Mabel replied. She smoothed the hair from his forehead, then glanced up at Campbell. “Ye’ll let me see to those cuts in a bit, won’t ye?”

“Aye,” Campbell muttered. “If ye insist.”

“I do,” she affirmed, her mouth curving just a little.

Soon, the boys went to wash up, their tired voices echoing down the hallway as they argued over who would stir the pot first.

The castle grew quieter. Campbell settled into the armchair, watching Mabel light a small fire in the hearth.

“Come sit,” he said gently.

She moved over to him and sat on the armrest, close enough that her skirt brushed against his arm. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, he reached up and placed his hand over hers where it lay on her knee. “Ye were brave tonight,” he remarked.

“I was so scared,” she whispered. “But I couldnae just stay home. Nae when ye needed me.”

Campbell swallowed nervously, feeling his throat tighten. “I dinnae deserve ye,” he said roughly.

“Nonsense,” she replied, her voice trembling. “If anyone doesnae deserve anything, it’s me. I… Campbell, I’ve been so scared ye will never let me in.”

His thumb rubbed small circles on her knuckles. “I didnae ken how.”

“And now?”

He looked up at her. “Now, I’m thinking I cannae imagine me life without ye. Without this.”

Mabel drew in a shaky breath and slid down to sit on his lap. Her skirts fanned over his legs, and her arms went around his shoulders. He held her, feeling every inch of her warm, alive, and his .

“I’m really glad ye came for me,” he whispered against her temple.

“I would come for ye again,” she breathed, pressing her cheek to his. “Every time.”

For a while, they just sat like that, the fire crackling softly. Outside, the wind whipped at the shutters, but in the little room, it was cozy and warm.

After a while, Mabel pulled back and looked at his face. “Ye look like ye have something on yer mind.”

He hesitated. His heart started a slow, heavy thump in his chest. “I… I actually do,” he confessed.

“Well?” she prompted, raising her eyebrows. “Ye can tell me anything, ye ken.”

His hand moved to her waist, and he immediately felt her gasp under his touch. “I dinnae ken if ye’ll want to hear it.”

“Try me,” she urged.

Campbell let out a long breath. His voice was rough when he finally spoke.

“I’ve been thinking… about everything we’ve been through.

About the boys. About ye and me.” He swallowed hard.

“I never thought I would be the kind of man who wanted more. I convinced meself that I was content. But it isnae true.”

“What do ye mean?”

His fingers tightened, pulling her closer. He forced himself to meet her eyes. “I mean, I do want a child of me own.”

Mabel blinked, her lips parting as if she needed more air just to understand what he had said.

“Ye… ye want a child?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Campbell nodded, his jaw working. “Aye,” he said roughly. “I’ve thought about it more than I let on. I suppose a part of me always did.”

Mabel’s breathing grew unsteady. “I thought… ye were content with the boys. With… with just us, as we are.”

He swallowed and looked away for a second, his eyes fixed on the old armchair across the room.

“I told meself that, aye. I thought I had enough. But when I saw ye tonight, when I thought I might never see ye again…” His gaze turned back to her, steady and sincere.

“I kenned I wanted everything. Ye. A home. A family that was ours in every way.”

Her heart gave a quick, frightened flutter, but hope rose within her. “Everything,” she repeated, as if testing out the word.

“Aye.” He raised a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Everything.”

She placed her hands flat on his chest, feeling the hard beat of his heart. “I dinnae ken what to say.”

“Say what’s true,” he whispered.

Mabel tried to find her voice.

“I’m… happy,” she managed. “I never let meself think about it too much. I didnae want to wish for something I thought ye would never want.”

“I was a fool. I’m sorry.”

“Nay,” she said, raising her head. “Ye were scared, and I was too.”

He gave a short, broken laugh. “Scared doesnae begin to cover it.”

She tried to smile, but tears filled her eyes. “Ye would make a good faither.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The fire popped then, and a little spark jumped on the hearthstone before disappearing.

“Ye think so?” he asked, as if he needed her to say it again.

“I ken so. Ye are already a good faither to the boys. Ye would love any child with everything ye have.”

Campbell’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear. “I’ve thought about it,” he said after a moment. “About what it would be like to see ye with a baby in yer arms. To ken that it is ours.”

A blush suddenly crept up Mabel’s face and down her neck. “Ye have?”

“Aye.” His thumb traced her cheekbone. “I’ve imagined ye in this room, yer laughter, yer… yer warmth filling every corner.”

“Campbell…”

“I’ve imagined a wee bairn sleeping in the cradle, ye sitting here in this chair, humming quietly like ye do when ye think nay one is listening.”

Her vision blurred again, and she let out a shaky breath. “Ye… ye cannae say things like that. I’ll start crying, and ye’ll never forgive yerself.”

He smiled then, small and crooked. “Maybe I want ye to cry. At least then I would ken ye feel the same way.”

“Oh, I do,” she affirmed, her voice breaking. She reached up to touch his face, holding him like she was afraid he would vanish. “I’ve wanted ye. All of ye. I just didnae dare hope.”

Campbell turned his head and pressed his lips to her palm. “I’m tired of holding back. I’ve wasted enough years.”

Mabel was speechless. She leaned in, her forehead resting against his.

After a moment, she managed to whisper, “What if we try, and it doesnae happen? What if?—”

“Then we’ll keep trying,” he interrupted boldly. “And if it still doesnae happen, we’ll still have each other. That’s all that matters.”

She let out a shaky laugh that tasted of tears. “Ye make it sound so simple.”

“It is. It’s just love. That’s all it’s ever been.”

Her heart swelled so fast that she thought it might burst out of her chest. She didn’t even try to stop the tears now. They rolled down her cheeks and stained his shirt.

“Dinnae cry, lass,” he whispered. “Ye’ll ruin me last clean shirt.”

A watery giggle escaped her lips. “Then ye’ll have to let me wash it tomorrow.”

His hand wrapped around the nape of her neck, pulling her closer until their lips were only a breath apart. “I dinnae care if ye ruin all me shirts,” he said roughly. “I just want ye.”

Mabel’s breath caught as he kissed her, slow and intense, as if he had all the time in the world to learn every part of her. She could feel every beat of his heart and every unspoken promise in the way his lips caressed hers.

When he finally drew back, she was breathless, her lips tingling.

Her fingers trailed along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble and warm skin. “Are ye sure about this?”