Page 33 of Priceless (Return to Culloden Moor #7)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I did as promised. I called Jocko’s and left my number so they could pass it on to Jacob. It was odd I’d never given it to him before, but we hadn’t been apart much since that first afternoon at the pub.

To prove Jess wrong—that I wasn’t going to flee the country as soon as Jacob’s back was turned—I determined to stay.

That night, I chatted with a few of the wives and helped clean up after the party was over.

Jess spent a lot of the night on the phone with Jacob’s sister-in-law, finding out exactly what the damage was, and whether Jess might be any help.

After she hung up the phone the last time, she shook her head and said Connall couldn’t be helped. She said it would be a miracle if Jacob reached him in time to say goodbye.

I cried into my pillow for a long time, then slept without dreaming. Even my subconscious had forgotten about killer whales.

In the morning, Jacob called Jess, then she passed me her phone.

“Good mornin’.”

“Good morning.”

“I wish ye were here.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I was able to speak to him. Now Sandrine and the bairns are with him. They’re all grown, so no little ones will be left behind.”

“Still…”

“Aye, still.” There was commotion in the background. “I’ll call later.” Then the call ended.

It was Sunday. The Wallaces stayed home.

We cooked a little, ate a little, and focused on recovering from the emotionally packed day before.

I sat in the kitchen, doodling and making lists.

One for the things I could do to pass the time until Jacob came back.

And another for things we might do together.

I stared at them so long they became meaningless words on paper.

Banner wandered in and peeked over my shoulder, then pointed to one list that I’d made from my original itinerary. “Culloden. I’d be happy to take ye tomorrow. Jess will be at hospital.”

I accepted the offer, though my heart wasn’t in it.

Culloden turned out to be a battlefield less than fifteen minutes away.

For the entire trip, Banner talked and I pretended to listen to all the battle strategies, the disasters, the butchery, and the theories on how the Jacobites could have marched into London and taken the throne, preventing the need for the battle altogether.

But they were tricked into turning back at the last minute.

Lots of death, all in under an hour, and men like Banner would never forget it.

We returned to the house in the early afternoon. I curled up in my bedroom and waited for Jacob to call. I had nothing to ask Jocko. All I wanted to know was when Jacob would get back, and he couldn’t tell me that.

At four in the afternoon, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I couldn’t take any chances, so I answered.

“Laira, it’s me.”

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

We breathed together for a minute before I asked about Connall.

“He’s gone.” I could hear the tears in his voice. “Peaceful. Painless, or so they say.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Aye. So am I.” He cleared his throat. “Sandrine has asked me to go with them to Paris. That’s where the funeral will be. She’s quite lost, ye see, and could use help arranging things.”

“I understand. Take your time. You’ll want to know you did all you could for them.”

“Aye. Ye’re right, there. I’d like to spend time with the bairns. Haven’t seen them in years. And…I dinnae want them to forget their uncle.”

“Good. That’s good. I’m glad you’re going.”

“Will ye meet me there? Ye could check Paris off yer bucket list, aye?”

“No. I need…I need to go home.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this. See, with Paul, I was Resigned Laira. After I lost him, I was Lost Laira. And with you…with you, I’ve been Laira in Love. But I need to know, for sure, who Just Plain Laira is. And I need a little space to figure that out.”

He was quiet for a long time. Then I heard a hitch in his breath. “Laira, please…”

Warm tears poured down my face and under my chin. I wiped them away and tried to harden my heart enough to get through the call. “I’m going to avoid funerals for a while. I know that sounds cold, but it’s what I have to do.”

“Ye won’t wait for me? Surely Scotland can keep ye happy for a wee while ? —”

“Banner took me to Culloden today. I hardly remember any of it. He talked for hours and I heard nothing. Looks like the only thing I care about in Scotland…is in Germany.”

In the silence that followed, I could hear him accepting defeat. “I love ye.”

“And I love you.” I swallowed hard so he wouldn’t know I was drowning in my own tears, then swallowed again. It took effort and force to get complete sentences out. “I’ll let you go. Take your time in Paris. Call me when you get home…and we’ll see where we go from there.”

“Laira,” he whispered.

“Jacob.”

“Ye’re takin’ my very soul with ye, ye ken that?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave you mine. On the dresser. In the blue room.” I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Goodbye.”

“I’ll not say goodbye. Only farewell for the now.”