If ye’re reading this, then ye’ve just said yer farewells to me. I wish it could have been different, love. That I could have been there waiting at the front door of MacLauchlin Castle upon yer arrival. But God had other plans, and we must trust in that. Whilst hard to part ways, we arenae lacking for we had such wonderful times together. ‘Tis that which ye should remember now. Dancing. Life. All that brought ye joy. So for me, dance again like we did that first time. Then remember what came next and discover even more...
Yers,
Bróccín
She wiped away another tear and looked at Colmac, who appeared equally affected. “So...I dance then?”
“Ye always did love to.” He scanned the message. “I was there the first time ye danced.”
“Aye.” She admired his profile, remembering the day Bróccín spoke of. “’Twas the same day ye and I danced for the first time as well.”
In all honesty, she had shared many first moments with the brothers. They were fast friends, so it made sense.
“’Twasthe same day,” he whispered, staring at the parchment a moment longer before his eyes met hers. What was that in his gaze? The obvious sentiment? She got the sense it had nothing to do with her and Bróccín.
“What is it, Colmac?”
His gaze lingered on her a moment longer then he shook his head. “Nothing. I was just thinking about what my brother means in his missive.” He carefully rolled the parchment. “’Twas Hogmanay, was it not? Right here at this castle?”
“Aye.” She recalled it fondly. The merry light in Bróccín’s bright blue eyes and his flaming red face when he tentatively approached her. “’Twas the first time he asked me to dance as the adults did.” She smiled. “’Twas the first time a boy ever looked at me like he did.”
“The first time?” Colmac murmured, his voice barely audible. He gently retied the ribbon around the scroll.
“Aye,” she said just as softly, caught by the strange look in his gaze. He meant to say more, did he not? Something he kept from her. She should leave it alone, but she needed to know. “Do ye know of another that looked at me that way?”
He was careful as ever reattaching the holly, his attention on the scroll though she knew he wanted to look at her.
“Ye turned many a head that year, lass. Ye were just too sweet and humble to know it.” He handed the scroll back to her, emotion churning in his gaze. “’Tis no wonder ye caught Bróccín’s heart well and true that eve.”
Ensnared by the angst in his gaze, she could barely find her voice. “Did I then?”
“Did ye not?”
She narrowed her eyes then widened them in understanding. “He told ye, aye? What he said to me?”
“He told me everything always.” His gaze grew more turbulent. “So, aye, the next eve, he told me he loved ye.”
Tension knotted her shoulders because she finally saw the truth of things in his steady gaze. What happened between her and Colmac that night hadnotbeen her imagination. Nay, based on the anguish in his eyes, it had been very real.
Though afraid to ask, she had to know. “And what did ye say to yer brother when he declared his love for me?”
His eyes remained with hers for an excruciatingly long moment then he looked away and shrugged. “I told him what any good brother would. That ye were a fine lass, and he should pursue ye.”
Rona didn't need to mull that over long before anger flared. Now was not the time to be upset about this, but that didn't change her response any. Her raw emotions when she realized what he had turned from. What he’d given up despite the good that had come from it. The genuine love she eventually found with his brother.
“A fine lass?” She pocketed the scroll and headed down the hall. “I was more than that and well ye know it,” she muttered, speaking when she should remain silent. Saying things that had no place in this moment. This hallway. So close to her deceased beloved considering she spoke naught of him. “Ye and I danced,” she ground out. “And ‘twasverramuch something...”
He caught up but remained behind her. “’Twas but a dance, lass.”
She shook her head. “Nay, ‘twas more.”
So very much more.
After all, she and Colmac had danced first.
She remembered how she'd felt in his arms. One moment it had been normal. They had laughed and chatted like the good friends they were. Then the rowdy crowd had pushed her into his arms, and everything changed.
In that singular moment, the second he pulled her against him and their gazes locked, she went from seeing the world through a girl’s eyes to viewing it through a woman’s.
