Glasgow Grace (16 page)
King and queen of their castle, she’d forgotten all that lay little more than a day away. This morning, worries began to besiege her mind. Callum had managed to allay some of her fears.
He stopped strumming.
Eyeing him as he set the guitar down on the carpet, Skye eased up and planted her elbows firmly in the rug, leaning her head on one hand. She twirled her fingers around a strand of hair with the other hand, studying the shadows from the flames that danced across Callum’s bare chest.
A smile touched his lips. “I love it when you do that.”
Skye paused her twirling. “Do what?”
“That twirly thing with your hair. For as long as I can remember, you’ve done that when you’re deep in thought. What’s on your mind? You’ve been really quiet tonight. Are you sad about going home tomorrow?”
Releasing the strand, Skye turned her fiddling to the small gold anvil pendant hanging around her neck. A wedding gift from Callum.
“I am. But it’s not that.”
Stretching out on the floor beside her, Callum draped his arm across her back and kissed her shoulder, his skin against hers reassuring. “Then what is it, my love? Are you worried about the operation? I already told you—”
“Oh, Callum, it’s hard not to feel anxious, even though I know I’m in the best hands. But that’s not it.” Could she tell him she’d ignored his advice not to call her mother? It wasn’t that he didn’t want peace between Skye and her mother, he just didn’t want his wife upset during their honeymoon. But he knew something was wrong. She’d have to come clean. “I-I called my mother earlier tonight.”
He drew in a deep breath. Silence settled between them.
Her eyes searched his. “Please, Callum, don’t be angry.”
“I’m not. I’m concerned for you. What did she say to upset you?”
“That’s just it. She didn’t upset me. Surprised me, actually.”
His eyebrows narrowed. Creases formed on his forehead. “Did you tell her about our marriage?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“She congratulated me and wished us well.”
“Really? That doesn’t sound like Rita Robinson.”
“I know. Neither did the rest of what she had to say.”
Callum propped himself up on his elbow. “Go on. I’m all ears.”
“She’d just returned from a few days in Portree. She’d gone to visit Da’s grave.”
Callum’s brows shot up, one higher than the other. “Did aliens kidnap the real Rita?”
Skye laughed. “I wondered that myself, especially when she said I’d been right.”
“About what?”
“That she had never quite appreciated or valued Da’s love. She said that standing beside Da’s grave it sank in that she could’ve loved him so much better, loved him as she had when they first met.”
“Hmm.” Sweeping his fingers through her hair, Callum kissed her lips, lightly at first then deepening his passion. “Let us never forget how much we love each other today.”
“Callum, in sixteen years we haven’t. What happened to my mother and father will never happen to us. We’ll never grow apart. I give you my word.”
He combed his fingers through her hair, tucking her hair behind her ear. “So, where’s your mother now?”
“On a plane back to Australia.”
“Did you tell her about your…cancer?”
Skye shook her head. “And risk her staying?”
Callum’s chest heaved as he chuckled. “Right.”
She’d done the right thing for her marriage to send Mother back to Australia, oblivious of what was about to transpire. But would her mother ever forgive her when she did find out what Skye had kept from her?
Callum glanced at his watch before capturing Skye’s mouth once more. Moments later, the sound of fireworks split the silence of the night and the skies above Auchen Castle lit up, casting their glow through the window into their room.
“Happy New Year, Mrs. McGuire.”
Would it be? Skye shook the dark thought away. With God and Callum by her side, she could surely do anything. Even beat cancer.
~*~
After breakfast, Callum packed the car. An hour later his BMW cruised the outskirts of Glasgow, a mix of emotions clamoring for his attention. Firstly, concern for the operation the following morning. Although he’d performed the procedure countless times, he’d never performed it on his wife. But this was no time to doubt his abilities. He was good at what he did. No, great, it was said. Tomorrow, he’d be brilliant.
Sadness let him know it was there, too, as his chest tightened. They’d always have their memories of Auchen Castle. Their honeymoon had been more than perfect. If only they could stay there, suspended in this weekend, forever.
Foremost on his mind was whether his final surprise would lift Skye’s waning spirits. Would it bring back good or bad memories?
He pulled the car to the curb. “Close your eyes, and don’t open them until I tell you.”
Skye’s lashes met, and then opened again as she peeped at Callum, laughing.
“I’m serious, Skye. Promise you’ll keep them closed.”
“I promise.” She clamped her eyes tight. “What are you up to now, Callum McGuire?”
He brushed his hand over her cheek, and steered the car back onto the road. “Taking you home.”
“I can’t wait to see.”
“You’ll love it.”
I hope.
No place for doubt now. This is where he lived, and it would be their home for as long as God spared them.
Unless Skye hated it, of course.
Minutes later, he pulled into the driveway and cut the engine.
“Can I look, yet?”
Taking her hand in his, Callum said, “You can look.”
She opened her eyes. Clasping a hand to her mouth, she turned to him and her tears began to fall. “Oh, Callum.”
~*~
“How did you— I can’t believe it.” Skye cried and laughed at the same time.
“It went on sale two years ago. I’ve eyed the house for years, snapped it up the moment it was on the market and I could afford to buy it.”
Lifting Skye in his arms, Callum carried her over the same threshold she’d crossed more times than she could remember. He had truly brought her home.
She strolled down the passages—touching, feeling— sixteen once again.
Callum followed close behind. “The previous owners made a lot of modifications. Then I came along and added my own taste in furnishings and paint.”
It was all so different, and yet, the same.
She filled her lungs. Would the phantoms of her past threaten her future happiness here? No. She would forget the bad times with her mother, her father dying in this very same house, and focus on the good memories these walls held. However long or short it may be, she had her lifetime to create new memories with Callum. Beautiful memories.
She turned and placed her hand on his chest. “I love it.”
His dark eyes searched hers, seeking the deepest thoughts of her soul. “Are you sure?” He smoothed his fingers across her face, light as a breath of air.
Skye swallowed hard and shut her eyes. Tears squeezed past the barriers.
“Hey.” He pulled her close. She felt warm and safe in his embrace. “What’s wrong? We can buy another place if you don’t want to live here.”
Skye shook her head. “What will tomorrow bring for us, Callum?”
~*~
How could he reassure her when the smallest part of him didn’t know the answer to the real questions she was asking?
Tomorrow would bring surgery and pain. The next day, and the next, and the weeks that followed, more suffering. Redness, blistering, and peeling of her skin would occur from the radiation treatment. Her hoarseness and sore throat would worsen, leaving her wondering if he knew how to heal her, if he had lied to her. She might lose her sense of taste, struggle to breathe. She’d be tired and thirsty. Constantly.
And what if the transoral laser surgery didn’t work? What if, after all his promises, he had to resort to open surgery? Would she be left disfigured, struggling to eat, or speak?
What if he couldn’t save her voice?
If, by God’s grace, tomorrow and the weeks that followed were a success, what if the cancer returned one day? What if the time came when he could no longer cure her?
Those were the real questions that lay behind Skye’s ”What will tomorrow bring for us?”
Clasping her head, he pulled her to his shoulder and pressed his lips hard against her hair. Then he whispered the answer they both needed to hear. “Tomorrow? Tomorrow, my love, will bring another God-given day for us to be together. As will the day thereafter, for His mercies are new every morning.”
Epilogue
Summer in Portree had always been beautiful. This was his favorite time of year. This was his favorite place. Two and a half years had passed since that memorable day at Gretna Green. Callum could scarcely believe it. As he bent down and placed the bright blue posy of forget-me-nots on the grave, it was even more difficult to believe that six months had passed since—
Callum choked at the thought. Some things in life were simply too much to take in. Too incredible.
In the distance he could hear her sweet voice, singing a familiar song.
He knelt beside the grave and smiled, waiting. He closed his eyes and listened.
“Christine, Christine.”
At the sound of her approaching footsteps, Callum opened his eyes and whispered. “Is she asleep?”
Skye nodded.
“Did she finish her feed?”
“Aye.” She laughed softly. “You worry too much, Callum. Your daughter will grow up to be strong and healthy like her mother.”
Callum stood. “Here, let me take her.”
“Aye, please do. She’s becoming quite a weight.”
Skye handed the sleeping baby to Callum. He lifted her chubby little hand and brought it to his lips. “Hey, little Christine, my beautiful Christmas miracle.”
The baby opened her eyes for a moment. One side of her mouth tilted in a smile before her heavy lids closed again. Callum never thought another would capture his heart as Skye had. Then he became a father.
Standing beside Callum, Skye combed her fingers through their baby’s soft curls.
Callum marveled at the auburn tinges that glistened in the sunlight. “She has your hair, all right.”
Shifting her focus from the baby to Callum, Skye smiled. “And she has your eyes.”
“Let’s hope she has your voice.”
“I hope she has your brains.”
Their laughter filled the Portree cemetery air.
Skye slipped her arm into the crook of Callum’s elbow. “Thank you for bringing me to visit Da’s grave again.”
On the grass nearby, a squirrel stopped in its tracks and sat up on its haunches, peering back at them. It twitched its nose, turned, and scurried up a nearby tree.
“Are you ready to head on home, Mrs. McGuire.”
“I am, Dr. McGuire. But can we first stop and feed the seals in the bay?”
He chuckled. “We always do.”
“Just checking.”
As they strolled back to the car, Callum raised his heart to heaven.
Thank you, Father, for your incredible grace. How great is Your faithfulness.
Thank you
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this inspirational work of fiction.
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