“Whatever it is, I’ll build it for ye. I’ll build ye a castle if ye stay,” Ian said.
“I don’t need a castle. All I need is you. And a better kitchen.”
She stared at him with her bottomless, sparkling eyes, and he couldn’t believe his ears and eyes.
“Lord,” Frangean said, “’tis where ye kiss the lass.”
Kate arched one brow. Ian wrapped his arms around her, so precious and smelling like something sweet and delicious that he wanted to devour in one bite.
“I didna think I’d ever see ye again, lass,” he said.
“I didn’t think I’d see you, either. But here I am. And whatever you think, you can make me happy. You have enough to give. And even if you’re broken, I don’t need you any other way. I love you, Ian Cambel.”
Something warmed and came together in his chest, and wholeness enveloped him like a soft blanket.
“I love you more than life itself, Katie. I’ll spend the rest of my life cherishing you, loving you, worshiping you, and making you the happiest woman alive.”
“There’s one thing you can do towards that right now,” she said.
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
And with the broadest smile his face had ever held, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. As his lips brushed against hers, as his tongue met hers, fire seethed through him, melting and dissolving his latest doubts, concerns, and broken parts. Because the love of his life was in his arms, and she wanted him.
And his heart was finally whole.
Epilogue
Dundail, October 1308
Ian tapped his foot against the ground. He stood by the entrance to the small wooden church at Benlochy village, his heart tapping even faster than his foot.
Craig, whom Ian had asked to be his best man, stood by his side, one hand on his sword—although Ian was sure no one would disrupt the ceremony. But tradition dictated that he had a best man, meaning the best swordsman, to protect the bride and the groom.
Ian would rather die than let anything happen to Kate.
He might die soon anyway, his heart on the verge of bursting from anticipation, if she didn’t appear in the next moment.
Their guests, including the whole Cambel clan, waited before the church. His uncles Neil and Dougal, Craig's wife, Amy, with a round belly, Ian's cousin Domhnall and his wife. Marjorie, Ian’s cousin and Craig’s sister, was on her own adventure and unable to make it to the wedding. Owen was in Inverlochy, waiting for someone important to come back, as Craig had told Ian. Owen had said that even an earthquake wouldn’t make him leave the castle. Ian wondered if he’d waited for a time traveler, too. Verra few knew about the time travel. It was like a clan secret, and those who knew guarded it with their lives.
Finally, Kate appeared in a sky-blue gown of delicate wool that flowed over her curves like water. Her hair was braided into a crown around her head, with some locks descending over her shoulders to lie on her chest. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, or mayhap from the same anticipation that trembled in his own breast. Her blue eyes shone bright as she walked. Their eyes locked, and Ian couldn’t breathe. She was so lovely.
Manning accompanied Kate, his chest puffed up, his chin sticking out proudly.
Then she stood before Ian, and he had to stop himself from reaching out, enveloping her in his arms and kissing her until she softened.
The priest coughed.
“Dearly beloved,” he said. “We’re gathered here to join Ian Cambel and Kate Anderson in holy matrimony. Does anyone know of any reason why these two canna be together?”
Ian and Kate exchanged a glance, and Kate giggled. Ian couldn’t have cared less if anyone minded him marrying Kate, but the questions were the part of the church wedding ceremony that needed to be cleared before they could be marrit.
When no one said anything, the priest continued. “Are those to be wedded of age?”
“Aye,” Ian said.
“Yes,” Kate echoed.
In fact, they both were probably the oldest couple the priest would ever wed. Most marriages took place before the bride and groom were nineteen years old.
“As neither of ye have living parents, the parental consent isna necessary,” the priest said. “Are ye nae related?”
“Nae,” Ian said.
“Definitely not,” Kate said.
“Aye, good. Now ye may exchange the vows.”
Ian’s whole body tingled as he took out the silver ring he’d ordered the day after Kate came back. His name and hers were engraved on it. His fingers shook a little as he took Kate’s hand in his, the ring in front of her finger. Her hand was cool and soft, and it shook, too. She smiled at him, and everything else melted away. Just him and her.
Then the words came easily.
“I vow to lay down my life for ye, Kate. I vow to nae let a single day pass when ye dinna have the brightest smile on yer face. I vow to give ye the best kitchen ye’ve dreamed of nae matter how interesting yer cooking creations. Yer name shall be the only one I cry out at night, and yer eyes will be the only ones I see each morning. I vow to be yer shield and yer sword. My heart shall beat for ye until my last breath.”
Her eyes watered and she smiled, and Ian swallowed a knot of emotion himself. Gently, he put the ring on her finger, and her smile bloomed, threatening to cut her face in two.
“Now yer turn, lass,” the priest said.
Kate took out the ring, a simple golden band Ian assumed she had brought with her from the future. As she held it in her hand, he saw the engraving: “My heart, your heart.” The words brought a surge of emotion
