Not Without Juliet - By L.L. Muir Page 0,73
treated me like I was the consolation prize, not the prize. And Gabby only... Only...”
“Gabby what? I’ve heard ye say he’s like a father to ye. Do ye miss him that much, lass?”
“No. I don’t miss him. I miss who I thought he was, but that was just a fantasy. I hate him for taking that fantasy away, I guess. I hate him for killing Nikkos. In that second, after the shot, I realized I’d lost a brother and a father. How can I forgive him for that?”
“It is the same sometimes, with Libby.”
“Your wife?”
“Aye. Sometimes I can’t forgive her for leaving me.”
Jules looked down again. “Plane crash, right?”
“Right. But even though it wasna her fault, I’m still angry that she’s gone.”
She scrubbed at her fingers. “You want to hear something sappy?”
“Sappy?” He didn’t understand.
“Yeah. You know, corny?”
“Perhaps you should just tell me. I’ll brace myself, just in case.”
She nodded. “Okay. Well.” She took a breath and looked up. “I feel...less angry when... When I’m with you. See? I warned you it was sappy.”
He smoothed a fingertip along the side of her face, scared that she might dissolve if he pressed too hard. What had God seen in him, to deem him worthy of such a lass?
“Ah, love. I feel less angry within your presence as well, but that’s not the reason I must stay near you.”
She took a deep breath and sighed. Then she waited.
“I stay near ye, lass, because in my dream, it’s all I wanted. And when I woke from the dream, only to find ye there, in the dark with me, you were all I wanted still. And the feeling only grows stronger each time I touch you, or look at you, or hear your voice. It was not just a dream, lass. It was the telling of our future. The question is, do you want to share that future?”
She was crying again, but this time he had a cure for it. A hundred soft kisses across the whole of her face would fix her up fine.
“Give us a moment, he says.” Ewan laughed. “Ye’ve had yer moment. Has she decided then?”
“Another moment if ye don’t mind,” he called back. He ignored the groans of the others and looked into Juliet’s eyes. “What do ye say, lass. In which century are we to reside? For it was no exaggeration. I go where you go, if you’ll allow me.”
She shook her head and his heart stuttered.
“I have to go back. I have to testify. Gabby’s a murderer. If I can stop him, I will. If I stay here, with you, who knows how many people will die because I didn't show up on the stand? I'd end up like Lady Macbeth, wandering around the castle trying to remove blood from my hands—blood only I can see. Can you understand?"
“Aye. I do. But do you wish me to go with you, lass?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I thought it would be too selfish of me to ask. It would kill me to leave you behind. Please, come with me. Please.” She leaned up and kissed him, not giving him a chance to reply.
In truth, he couldn't be more pleased. He'd often believed that he'd done what he was supposed to do for history’s sake. He'd helped the Rosses transition from one laird to the next. He was only filling space now.
But since meeting Juliet in spirit, and then in person, he'd realized that filling space was no longer enough for him. And if she were consulted, Libby would agree. He had much to give, and just because he mourned Libby still, it did not justify turning his back on the rest of his life.
"Aye, lass. I’ll come." Then he covered her one ear and held the other to his chest so he could shout. "Jillian! Just how many people to you reckon we can fit in Isobelle's tomb?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
One week later...
Jules had choked down a dry biscuit breakfast with absolutely no coffee for washing it down. She was thrilled to be going back to civilization before lunch.
If Quinn wouldn’t have agreed to come along, she suspected she would have stayed behind with him. She would have had to learn to live with herself for not putting a stop to Gabby, but she couldn’t have forgiven herself for leaving her Highlander behind. Besides, Gabby’s sins were not her own. Neither were her grandmother’s.
And like Jillian said, the tomb wasn’t the most reliable mode of transportation. There was no guarantee she