Hell Transporter (Between) (32 page)

I immediately recognized the golden band with the large emerald in the center flanked by diamonds on either side: Nanny Fraser’s ring.

My hand shook as he slipped it on my finger after saying his vows. I stared at the ring in disbelief. The minister handed me Aiden’s ring and my voice wavered as I repeated the vows myself. Aiden’s eyes opened wide in astonishment as I pushed the ring onto his finger.

I’d saved all the money I’d gotten from tutoring and my work-study job to have a gold replica of my wooden ring made for him, complete with the etched Celtic circles he’d carved with his
sgian dubh
at the cabin. I could tell by the look on his face that he was absolutely floored. His jaw clenched tightly and his lip quivered almost imperceptibly as he struggled to keep control of his emotions.

Father O’Malley came forward and wrapped a strip of tartan around our clasped hands, and said a blessing over us. I could hear Sarah sniffling in the front row, which almost did me in. Mercifully, the minister declared us husband and wife, and Aiden leaned forward to kiss me. A great cheer erupted from the onlookers when his lips met mine, so he pulled me close to make a better job of it for the crowd. I giggled and smiled against his mouth, and he grinned down at me, resting his forehead against mine for a moment.

“Congratulations, Mrs. MacRae,” he whispered.

We filed down the aisle and moved into another room that had been set up for a receiving line and some dancing. The band struck up a happy tune as people streamed through, showering us with hugs and kisses before they moved to grab a glass of champagne or a dram of whisky. When the last guest had wished us well, we drank from a two handled cup Aiden called a
quaich
, then cut the cake and very politely fed each other from the first slice, drawing disappointed but good-natured jeers from the assembly.

Aiden held out his hand as the violinists and flutist began a slow, romantic song and the crowd parted for us to begin the first dance. Wrapped in his embrace, I let out my breath and relaxed. He asked me about the ring I’d given him and when I told him how I’d had it made, he leaned forward to kiss me. I asked him about Nanny Fraser’s ring, and held up my hand to admire it. He answered in my head so that only I could hear.

I told the pawnbroker that I’d return within three months to buy it back from him, and that I’d give him four times the price if he’d hold it. He did, thanks be to God, and when I went to the casino that weekend with Ian, well, the cards were on my side.
He winked at me but I was still so awed at seeing the ring again that I didn’t know what to say. I held him close and laid my head on his chest as we swayed to the music.

I saw my dad go over to my mom and offer a nervous hand. “You always were my favorite dancer. Will you do me the honor?” he asked, and a smile lit my mother’s face. She fit easily into his arms and they moved with grace around the floor. The rest of the guests filled in then, swirling around us to the music.

When we passed my parents, I heard my dad say to her, “We should have done this a long time ago. I was going to head to Edinburgh tomorrow to do some sightseeing. Would you like to come with me?”

She glanced up at him in surprise and got a thoughtful look on her face. Then she smiled and said, “I’d love that. Thank you, Gary.” He pulled her in a little closer and they danced away so that I couldn’t hear them anymore.

The music changed to a lively, upbeat jig and the dancing followed suit, the crowd pressing in. I grabbed Aiden’s hand and we slipped away, out the door and up the stairs to the little balcony that overlooked the room. As I peered out over the crowd, my heart swelled with joy.

“You look very happy,” Aiden said and I beamed at him.

“Actually, I’d like to see what I look like, to be honest with you. They hid all the mirrors, saying it was bad luck to see myself,” I said.

Aiden took my hands and his face grew serious. “You look like the sun itself, Lindsey MacRae. I can hardly breathe, you are so radiant.” He sent me a mental image of myself in my wedding gown. He was right; I did look beautiful, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay so I didn’t ruin my make-up.

“It’s almost perfect,” I said softly and he replied, “Almost?” I sighed and looked down at my wedding ring. “When we were handfast, you told me it would last for a year and a day. I tried so hard to schedule the wedding so we wouldn’t run out of time, but I just couldn’t make it. With school, and the waiting period for the license…” I let the words fall away, my disappointment at having let him down weighing heavy on me.

He put one finger under my chin and lifted my face to meet his gaze. “When were we handfast, Lindsey? What day?”

“Well, the accident was on December 15
th
,” I replied.

“And how many days were you with me in between?”

I shook my head, uncertain. “I don’t know. You told me yourself that since you control the sun and the moon, that the days are not the same there.”

He nodded, his eyes holding mine. “That’s true. I also told you when I made you my bride that I would not count the days if you would promise me the same. I don’t intend to start now, love. You’re my wife, yesterday, today and forever.” A tear spilled down my cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb, then cradled my face in his hands and gently pressed his mouth to mine.

When he pulled away, I looked into the blue eyes of the man I love—my husband—and whispered, “Okay, now it’s perfect.” He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and we went back downstairs to join our guests.

About the Author

Cyndi Tefft lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest where the weather is overcast and rainy, much like the Highlands of Scotland. So she was right at home when she got the chance to visit Eilean Donan Castle. A self-proclaimed Scot freak, she loved every bit about the trip to Scotland: the people, the kilts, the accents, the fish & chips, the haggis… well okay, not the haggis.

Connect with the author online at

http://www.cynditefft.com