Dawns Everlastin' (former title: Dusk Before Dawn) Book 2 (28 page)

Unbidden, Laura popped into
his thoughts, her green eyes flashing at him, her lips pursed in a
pout.
Damn!
He
missed her temper, her chiding...her smile. It was as if a part of
him was missing.
An important
part.

Finally, dispelling her
image, he said, "Perhaps you could explain somethin' to
me."

Beth arched an eyebrow, the
smile remaining on her lips and in her eyes.

Lifting his left arm, he
casually bent it to and fro at the elbow then twisted and turned it
at the wrist. "The maist peculiar thing happened this morn, lass. I
woke up wi' a terrible burnin' beneath the cast. It buggered me so,
I went to the clinic this efternoon to have it checked." Airily,
his gaze never leaving Beth's face, he jerked up his coat sleeve as
far as it would go. "Notice, Beth, there's no cast."

"My my," Beth murmured,
regarding his extended appendage. "You're a fast
healer."

"Aye, so it
seems."

She lifted her hands in a
gesture of surrender. "Okay, so I prompted the healing
along."

A frown creased his wide
brow. "You can do tha' sort o' thing."

"It was another
experiment."

Roan grinned. "I'm no'
complainin', mind you, but I had a helluva time convincin' the
doctor tha' he hadn't gone bonkers."

Beth's laugh echoed across
the field. "I can imagine."

"Can you, now?" Slipping his
hands into his deep coat pockets, he rocked on his feet. "Five
x-rays, mind you. And when he removed the bloody cast, he still had
trouble believin' the bones had knitted togither."

"I'm sorry," she chuckled
with an airy shrug of her slender shoulders, "but it didn't make
sense to have you laboring so hard on the house, and suffering a
broken arm."

"Ma thanks,
Beth."

"Any time."

Her gaze flitted toward
something in the direction of the house. At last! Guarding her
excitement, she looked Roan in the eye. "The house is already
beginning to shape up."

He nodded. "We're hopin' to
have the construction work done by Christmas Eve—which reminds
me.... Do you think His Nibs will mind us havin' a wee celebration
in the house if we succeed?"

"His Nibs?" Beth frowned and
gave a chiding shake of her head. "You're still upset with him,
aren't you?"

"No' really. Disappointed,
maistly, but I guess he has his ways, me, mine." Looking down, he
poked at the ground again. "Actually, once ma temper cooled down, I
realized he'd come a long way in a short time. At least—" He
searched Beth's face for a long moment. "—we can be civil to one
anither, which is mair’n we could manage in the
beginnin'."

"You're okay, Roan
Ingliss."

He grinned sheepishly. "It
helps to have a guardian spirit lookin' over ma
shoulder."

"Mmm. Guardian spirit. It
does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it? But tell me, how's
everything else going in your life?"

He lifted a questioning
eyebrow.

"Don't be obtuse," she
sighed, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Obtuse, eh?" He smiled
ruefully. "Could be any number o' things ye're referrin' to.
"

"Right. Okay, I'll play
along. Roan Ingliss, do you miss Laura and the boys?" He frowned,
prompting her to rush on, "The truth. I promise you won't melt into
the snow if you should fess up to what you're actually
feeling."

"Aye, I miss them." In an
abrupt gesture of vexation, he shrugged deeper into his lamb's wool
coat. "I do miss them, and I can't get her ou' o' ma mind. Beth, it
all happened so fast. I was so...so frustrated wi' her and the
laddies, and the whole situation, then next I knew, I couldn't be
around them enough."

He sighed, and raked his
fingers through the hair at his temple. "I don't know wha' to
think, anymair. The days come and go in a blur. Is it possible to
lose yer mind wi'ou' knowin' it?"

Beth released a deep,
throaty laugh. "Yes, but I think your problem is called love. An
affliction, I know, but it has its moments."

Roan's grin warmed his
features. "Ye're a blunt womon, Beth Staples, and I'm bloody
grateful for our friendship."

Without hesitation, Beth
reached out and clasped one of his hands between her cool palms.
"So am I."

He glanced down at their
grasp, and grimaced. "His Nibs will be poppin' up, accusin' me o'
handlin' his womon," he said nervously. Beth dropped her hands
away, and he returned his to his pocket. "Speakin' o' him, where
has he been hidin' since the fire?"

"Sulking in the
grayness."

Roan rolled his
eyes.

"Whenever we argue, it takes
him a while to store up his energy."

"The mon has a
temper."

"Not unlike someone else I
know," she quipped, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Guilty as charged.
Difference is, though, I can't
poof
away."

"No, but you do withdraw.
You have a tendency, Roan, to try to shut out what hurts you. One
day, you'll realize that emotional pain is a healing
factor."

"Tha' so, Doctor Beth? Mmmm.
I'll have to remember this next time I'm in misery up to ma
ears."

"Just face a few truths.
It's as simple as that."

"Truths? Wha' truths are we
talkin' abou', now?"

"Laura. Your future
together."

"It doesn't seem we have a
future. No' wi' her thousands o' miles away and me
here."

Beth gave an exasperated
shake of her head. "Whose fault is that?"

"Ye're wantin' me to place
the blame on
ma
shoulders?"

"They're mighty big
shoulders, Roan. You allowed your pride to stand in the way of
asking her to stay."

Roan scowled. "I did ask."
He sighed. "In a way, I did ask, but she wasn't
listenin'."

"I'm listening now," came a
husky voice from behind him.

His heart shooting into his
throat, he whirled about.

"This is where I say good
night," Beth grinned, fading into the landscape.

Tightness formed in Roan's
chest as he raked his gaze up and down Laura's small form. His
hands balled within the coat pockets. He couldn't speak. He was
afraid if he said anything, her image would dissolve, and he would
once again find himself stuck with his own dubious
company.

"You're scowling at me," she
said finally, in a small voice, watching him as if expecting to
have to flee at any moment.

He made every effort to
clear his expression but the scowl remained deeply
etched.

"My purse was recovered and
sent to the consulate." Looking down, she gestured to the
three-quarter-length, smart blue coat she was wearing. "The boys
and I went on a shopping spree. I rented a car, and here I am."
When he remained silent, she sighed nervously. "I know it doesn't
make sense, but I love you, Roan. I don't want to leave Scotland,
or you, or the life we could build here together."

Impatience lending an edge
to her tone, she went on, "I'm fresh out of inhibitions. I'm not
expecting you to marry me. I don't care if we live together, so
long as we're together. If the responsibility of the boys worries
you, I'll do whatever it takes to make all of our lives easier. I'm
not a weak woman, and I am capable of pulling more than my share
when it comes to finances and the comforts of the men in my
life—which are now
four.
And I'm ready to take on the role of mother,
aunt...and your lover, for as long as the boys need me, and you
want me."

Laura released a breath
through pursed lips and rolled her eyes. "Now that I've gotten all
of this off my chest, would you please say
something!"

"You rented a
car?"

Bewildered, Laura blinked at
him.

"You drove here from
Edinburgh?" he asked in a voice two octaves higher than his
normal.

"Yes. I rented an automatic.
The roads were pretty good, and I didn't even get lost. Not once.
Not bad for a Yank...
aye?"

Too rattled to appreciate
her humor, he gasped, "You
drove
from Edinburgh?"

"Roan—"

"Dammit, womon, are you
crazy?"

"I must be. I’m back here,
aren’t I? Has the investigation been completed on the
house?"

He nodded.

"And...?"

He shrugged.

A frown briefly touched
Laura's face then cleared when she walked up to him, leaving little
space between them. Gripping the front of his coat, she rose on
tiptoe, and stared deeply into his eyes. "It isn't wise to provoke
a woman who has spent the better part of the day traveling foreign
roads, in the company of three very lively, talkative boys. I'm on
the edge, Roan Ingliss, and your silence is pushing me over the
brink!"

At that moment, her arrival
struck him as humorous. He released a brief, booming laugh before
winding his arms about her and holding her against him.

"It's about time," she
grinned, snuggling closer to his body. An invitation danced in her
eyes, her sensuously parted lips.

"Damn me," he chuckled
nervously. "I can't believe ye're actually here!"

"That makes two of us.
Roan?" Her voice deepened to a husky, sensual tone. "I was hoping
for a different kind of greeting."

Without wasting another
second, he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a searing
kiss.

He would never be able to
describe the rightness he felt at that moment, the rightness of
holding her, kissing her deeply, the two of them once again on
Baird territory. And he could not imagine ever feeling happier than
he was right now. His blood sang out in joy, in perfect harmony
with his every nerve, muscle, flesh and brain. She'd not only
returned of her own free will, but had admitted to being in love
with him. It was more than he would have ever dared to pray for. A
small voice in the back of his head told him it was more than he
deserved.

She shuddered out of sheer
contentment, broke the kiss, and nuzzled her brow against the
contours of his face. "I couldn't stay away. I missed you so much.
The sight of you. The touch of you." Looking into his eyes, she
inhaled deeply through her nose then smiled a smile that warded off
the chill of the night. "The musky scent of you. I'm afraid I'm
hooked on you, Roan. Away from you, I start experiencing
withdrawal."

"Is ma lass becomin' a
poet?" he asked almost shyly. Breathing sparingly, he studied her
face, as if to further enhance his mental image of her. "Or am I
dreamin'?"

"Want me to pinch
you?"

"Thank you, no," he
chuckled.

She strained on tiptoe once
again, and was about to kiss his beckoning mouth when he looked up
and stiffened. Turning her head to look in the direction of the
house, she asked, "What's wrong?"

Releasing her, he stepped to
her side. "Where are the boys?" he asked gruffly, his narrowed gaze
riveted on the house.

"At your aunt's.
Why?"

"You came here
alone?"

Shivering, she turned,
linked an arm through his, and pressed closer to his side. "You're
scaring me."

"I saw a light movin' around
the second floor. I asked you, lass, did you come
alone?"

"No." A chill blossomed in
the pit of her stomach. "No, Borgie came along to show
me—"

Roan released a gurgle of a
cry then lit into a run. Laura followed as best she could, her
boots not equipped with skid-free soles as were his. Before they'd
gone but ten yards, a sound of rumbling began back at the oak, deep
in the ground, seemingly beneath the headstones. Unsteadily sliding
to a stop, Laura stared in that direction, her heartbeat hammering
at her temples. Fear built within the pit of her
stomach.

The sound grew louder.
Unaware that Roan had gone on quite a ways, then had turned and was
running back in her direction, she stared in disbelief as the
headstones keeled over one at a time, in an eerie domino effect.
She couldn't move her feet, not even when Roan was suddenly beside
her and tugging on her arm. By the time he realized the thundering
was not from the heavens, the ground began to yawn apart in a rapid
pathway toward them.

"Run!" he cried, taking her
by the hand.

Laura slid most of the way
to the fence, Roan dragging her along as if she were a sled. He
helped her over the fence, barely getting over himself before the
planks burst into the air. The chasm chased them through the trees,
around the house, and mysteriously came to a halt the instant it
came to the stone steps of the greenhouse which served as a front
entry to the manor.

Huddled together on the
small stoop, Roan stared down at the dark cleft. Fear boiled in his
blood, yet left his skin like ice.