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Authors: Michelle M. Pillow
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fault.”
“Donna, I don’t understand. Ya said parts?” Fergus pulled her away from Margareta so that he could hold her. “What did ya mean when ya said all parts of your spirit came back?”
“You, my dear, have not gotten better with your spells,” Donna whispered, cupping his face in her hands. “And my abilities in the kitchen were a victim of their side effects. At least that’s the excuse I’m going to tell the rest of your family.”
“I tried. I’m so sorry. I tried everything to bring ya back sooner.” Fergus was afraid to let go, to stop looking at her face. He wanted to hold her, make love to her, and stare at her so she couldn’t disappear from his life again.
“Oh, I can remember that too. You brought me back plenty of times, husband. You brought me back as a fly and then squished me. You brought me back as a sheepdog and then named me Martin! You made me sleep on the floor.”
“Oh, Fergus,” Margareta scolded. “Ya didn’t.”
“Martin?” Cait laughed. “Ya cursed that dog for a century for chewing your favorite boots.”
“Hey, that’s right,” Fergus said. “Ya ate my boots.”
“They were ugly,” Donna stated. “It was the only way to get you to stop wearing them.”
“Well, ya say I squished ya? Let’s just call it even. I forgive ya for the boots.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Four hundred years had culminated into this perfect moment. He may never stop smiling again.
“Even? Oh, hardly, I’m just getting started. We have four hundred years of reincarnations to discuss, Mr. MacGregor. There’s the cow and the—”
Fergus kissed her to quiet her. Then he pulled her to her feet as he stood, not letting go. He lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. “It looks as if I did all right this last time.”
“Hey, Margareta, do these tree ornaments look off to ya?” Cait asked behind them.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Margareta answered.
Fergus walked faster, wanting to get Donna alone. Making love to her once had not been enough.
“You think you did all right? My past life tried to kill me in this life, twice, in an effort to make me remember her.” Donna tapped her finger against the tip of his nose before lightly pinching the tip and wiggling it.
“Twice?” He continued up the stairs and onto the landing.
“The first time was when I was a kid. She hit me with a stick. I think she was trying to knock some sense into me, or something. I don’t know. It seems a bunch of little accidents and oddities in my life can be attributed to Elspeth trying to communicate.”
“Ya can’t blame me for that. Technically ya hit yourself.” He tried to kiss her, but she pulled back.
“Fine. Past-me hit present-me with a stick. I’m Elspeth, but not Elspeth. However, I guess we’re kind of even on this point since she did try to kill you too.”
“Oh?” He paused in his pursuit of her mouth.
“The enchanted cookie baking.” Donna laughed. “I can guarantee the happy homemaker neighbor deliveries were not this lifetime’s idea.” Suddenly, her laughter stopped. “That’s not going to happen anymore, is it? I mean, I’ll be arrested for poisoning someone if I keep that up.”
“Well, I do need ya to make me at least one more batch.” Fergus lifted his hand, throwing open the bedroom door without touching it.
She arched a brow. He had to be joking.
“I’ve already called a MacGregor challenge as soon as Euann is back from New York. He, Rory, and Malina will have to eat an entire pan of whatever ya bake as punishment for their joke gone wrong. They should have never given ya that gift basket. It was meant in jest for me to find, but I didn’t find it, and they do not know ya well enough to pull such pranks.”
“Actually, it is kind of funny,” Donna admitted. “I was so flustered by you and thought I was losing my sanity because of all the baking enchantment type episodes, that I yelled at you
“Donna, I don’t understand. Ya said parts?” Fergus pulled her away from Margareta so that he could hold her. “What did ya mean when ya said all parts of your spirit came back?”
“You, my dear, have not gotten better with your spells,” Donna whispered, cupping his face in her hands. “And my abilities in the kitchen were a victim of their side effects. At least that’s the excuse I’m going to tell the rest of your family.”
“I tried. I’m so sorry. I tried everything to bring ya back sooner.” Fergus was afraid to let go, to stop looking at her face. He wanted to hold her, make love to her, and stare at her so she couldn’t disappear from his life again.
“Oh, I can remember that too. You brought me back plenty of times, husband. You brought me back as a fly and then squished me. You brought me back as a sheepdog and then named me Martin! You made me sleep on the floor.”
“Oh, Fergus,” Margareta scolded. “Ya didn’t.”
“Martin?” Cait laughed. “Ya cursed that dog for a century for chewing your favorite boots.”
“Hey, that’s right,” Fergus said. “Ya ate my boots.”
“They were ugly,” Donna stated. “It was the only way to get you to stop wearing them.”
“Well, ya say I squished ya? Let’s just call it even. I forgive ya for the boots.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Four hundred years had culminated into this perfect moment. He may never stop smiling again.
“Even? Oh, hardly, I’m just getting started. We have four hundred years of reincarnations to discuss, Mr. MacGregor. There’s the cow and the—”
Fergus kissed her to quiet her. Then he pulled her to her feet as he stood, not letting go. He lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. “It looks as if I did all right this last time.”
“Hey, Margareta, do these tree ornaments look off to ya?” Cait asked behind them.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Margareta answered.
Fergus walked faster, wanting to get Donna alone. Making love to her once had not been enough.
“You think you did all right? My past life tried to kill me in this life, twice, in an effort to make me remember her.” Donna tapped her finger against the tip of his nose before lightly pinching the tip and wiggling it.
“Twice?” He continued up the stairs and onto the landing.
“The first time was when I was a kid. She hit me with a stick. I think she was trying to knock some sense into me, or something. I don’t know. It seems a bunch of little accidents and oddities in my life can be attributed to Elspeth trying to communicate.”
“Ya can’t blame me for that. Technically ya hit yourself.” He tried to kiss her, but she pulled back.
“Fine. Past-me hit present-me with a stick. I’m Elspeth, but not Elspeth. However, I guess we’re kind of even on this point since she did try to kill you too.”
“Oh?” He paused in his pursuit of her mouth.
“The enchanted cookie baking.” Donna laughed. “I can guarantee the happy homemaker neighbor deliveries were not this lifetime’s idea.” Suddenly, her laughter stopped. “That’s not going to happen anymore, is it? I mean, I’ll be arrested for poisoning someone if I keep that up.”
“Well, I do need ya to make me at least one more batch.” Fergus lifted his hand, throwing open the bedroom door without touching it.
She arched a brow. He had to be joking.
“I’ve already called a MacGregor challenge as soon as Euann is back from New York. He, Rory, and Malina will have to eat an entire pan of whatever ya bake as punishment for their joke gone wrong. They should have never given ya that gift basket. It was meant in jest for me to find, but I didn’t find it, and they do not know ya well enough to pull such pranks.”
“Actually, it is kind of funny,” Donna admitted. “I was so flustered by you and thought I was losing my sanity because of all the baking enchantment type episodes, that I yelled at you
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