Page 100 of Wild Highland Rose
Marjory sat up with a start,excitement making her pulse quicken. "I think he's breathing." She laid her head back onhis chest. She could definitely feel a shallow up and down movement. "Holy Mary, Mother of God. He's alive."
Cook materialized from nowhere, the kindly woman kneeling by her side, doubt written across her ample face. "Nay, Marjory 'tis just your imagination. The man is dead."
"'Tis no' true." She grabbed the woman's hand and forced it down on Cameron's chest. "Feel for yourself."
Cook frowned her, then slowly smiled. "Dear God, ye speak the truth. The man is breathing." Her smile faded. "You canna get your hopes up, lass. Just because he's breathing now, doesna mean he'll ever wake up. He took a bad blow to the head, and there's all this blood. That canna bode well for his recovery."
Marjory ignored the woman's gloom. She had hope. Hadn't Cameron first come to her through just such an injury? She placed an arm under Cameron's shoulder. "Help me get him up. He needs to be in bed."
"Fine. I'll help ye get him to bed. But I dinna want ye getting yer hopes up."
"I'll think what I want." Marjory cried, surprised at the vehemence in her voice. "The man has risen from the dead before." Her heart soared.
She leaned over Cameron, whispering in his ear. "Come back to me, you stubborn oaf. I've need of you here. You belong to me and no one else. Come back to me."
"Come back to me."The voice echoed in his head, pulling him from sleep, darkness surrounding him. He listened to the darkness. The beeping was incessant, pounding out a steady beat. But instead, he concentrated on the voice. Marjory's voice. Had he dreamed it, or was he still linked with her time?
He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't. Hope shot through him. It had been like this before. He willed himself back to Crannag Mhór, to Marjory, but nothing happened. There was only the darkness and the syncopated beeping. He struggled to see something, anything, in the dark, frustration consuming him.
"Rest easy, child."
Grania.
He relaxed at the sound of her voice, and immediately, the white door appeared. He felt his heartbeat accelerate, whether from excitement or fear he couldn't say, probably a bit of both.
"Dinna be afraid, I'm with ye."
He felt the warmth of her love surrounding him. "I can't see you." He spoke and yet he knew he hadn't truly vocalized the words.
"I'm here. Feel me with yer heart."
Again, he felt the warmth of her love embrace him.
"'Tis time fer you to make a decision, Cameron. Ye must decide what it is ye want, lad. Yer old identity or a new life with Marjory. Ye canna have both, and I canna hold the door open much longer."
As he watched the white door dimmed a little. "Why are you here?"
He felt her laughter. "'Tis my job to watch o'er ye. What I couldna do in life, God has allowed me to do in death. I want only your happiness. But the decision must be yer own."
The light faded a little more, and he wondered suddenly how he could have ever thought anything was more important than love. For he loved Marjory Macpherson with all of his soul. He belonged with her, no matter what century, no matter what body.
"Ye have chosen wisely, my son, I'm proud o' you. Remember a part o' me is always with you."
Grania's voice faded away with the door, and the darkness shifted, black to gray. The beeping was gone. Afraid to hope, he slowly opened his eyes.
Marjory sat on a chair,resting her head on the edge of the bed coverings, her hand entwined with Cameron's. With Cook's help, she'd managed to clean and bind his wound. Once the congealed blood had been washed away, the gash had seemed less nasty. He did have a large knot on the back of his head, but in truth, it didn't seem any worse than any he'd had before.
But he hadn't awakened, hadn't even made a sound. Once, she'd thought she heard him say her name, but then she'd decided she'd only imagined it. With a sigh, she raised her head, quickly sucking in a breath, as she looked into his amber eyes.
"Marjory, mine." The words were weak, but she'd never heard anything more beautiful in her life.
"I'm here, love, I'm here."
EPILOGUE
Marjory let the merriment of the wedding feast surround her. Camerons and Macphersons alike danced and drank and toasted to the newly wed couple. It was perhaps a bit odd to repeat the vows, but her folk accepted it without question, glad enough to have peace in the valley again.
Fingal sat slightly apart from the others. His wound had healed, but his face was still lined with grief. Aimil's death had hit them all hard, but life continued, and with time she knew that Fingal would recover. The hatred that had run their lives was gone. It died with Torcall and Allen and Aimil—and with Ewen.
