Haunt Me (21 page)

“No more.” Madeline agreed. “Never again.”

The final chain holding them fastened to the past suddenly snapped—and it was Justin gently cradling Mac’s face in his hands. Justin kissing Mac. He poured everything he felt into that kiss: all of his love, his loss, and his devotion. Warmth bloomed in his chest and flowed through his blood, sending a wild tingling along every nerve. The sun seemed to magnify a hundred times and he could have sworn he heard bells tolling, and then silence settled over them, blanketing the garden in the quiet sounds of nature.

Justin sighed and broke from the kiss to look at her. Only Mac stared back at him, all the shadows of Madeline eased.

They were free.

“Did that just happen?” Mac’s voice trembled and she pulled away to wipe the tears from her face.

“I’m pretty sure. I felt it. Did you?”

She nodded shakily. “It was like all the warmth of spring and summer, and the sound of bird song, and the touch of butterfly wings, and everything you imagine in some fairy tale bursting forth…and then they were gone. James and Madeline.”

“Not gone.” He caught her hand again. “At peace. Together.”

“Here.” She glanced around the gazebo. “They’re buried here.”

He suspected as much, but he wouldn’t touch another facet of the landscape unless she wanted. “We can find out…”

“No,” Mac shook her head. “They deserve to be in peace.”

He couldn’t agree more.

Trepidation rippled across her face.

“I love you, MacKenzie Dillon.” No more doubts, no more questions, no more excuses. He’d had all those hours in the hospital to accept the impossible—that everything he’d insisted on not believing in was very true. “I loved you when you were Madeline and I love you now.”

Threading her fingers through his, she smiled. “I love you, too. But how do we know it’s us and not them?”

“Because we are them.” It would take her time to get used to the idea—hell, he’d had time and it still managed to mess with his head. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re together and we’re getting married.”

Her mouth opened in a silent “o” and he waited.

“Justin!”

There it was. “Yes, my darling Mac?”

“I’ve
been
married.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t good at it.”

“You weren’t married to me—and trust me, you’re going to be a fantastic wife. I plan to prove it to you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” She wrapped her arms around his neck and winced.

“Careful. Did you hurt yourself?” He wanted to check her stitches. Hell with that. He wanted to check every inch of her.

“I pulled them a little, but it’s fine.” She waved off his concern. “Ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“You Justin, ask me Mac, to marry you.”

“Now who’s being pushy?”

She glared at him and he grinned. Life with Mac would never be boring.

“MacKenzie Dillon, you will marry me. Ahh…” He held up a finger, stifling her retort. “Because I have a man card and I am utterly, completely, and forever in love with you—and I build beautiful homes.”

Her angry gaze wavered, and she burst out laughing. “Yes, you do. But I don’t want to live in this house anymore.” Her gaze went past him to Summerfield, sadness lingering for a moment and then she nodded, as though deciding something. “It was a prison. We should make it better—and though it’s probably not haunted anymore, do you think the town would still be interested?”

“Yes, they can have it.” He’d resented his father’s demands, resented what the town needed—but both had brought him home to find his heart. Rising, he scooped her up and cradled her close, heading back to the rental truck. “We’re having a Christmas wedding.”

“Are you asking me, or telling me?”

“Which gets me in less trouble?” If she were less injured, he’d have danced her all the way to the truck.

“Hmm…
telling
. It’s very studly.”

“Oh, so my man card is getting an upgrade. I like it.”

She snorted that delightful, unladylike snort and opened the passenger side of the truck. He set her inside carefully and leaned up for another kiss. She sighed against his mouth.

“I think I’m going to give up on the historical romances and try to write something lighter next time—with serial killers and stuff.”

This was music to his ears. Despite the personal nature of the story that had haunted her, he knew how much she loved writing. “Whatever you want.” They could make any choice work as long as they were together. “Whenever you want.”

Her laughter washed over him and he grinned as he started the engine up. The last hiccup of her amusement faded as she looked at the house. “I came here to get a second chance at life. And I found you.”

“I’ve been waiting for you all my life,” he murmured. One and done. Yes, he understood the meaning of his legacy. Mac was his one.

Her hand closed over his. “And we’re going to live happily ever after.”

“You wanted to rewrite the ending.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Can we put in…and she obeyed him forevermore?”

Mac snorted and pinched his arm.

Still laughing, he rubbed his arm in mock pain. “Ow. What was that for?”

“To remind you that happily ever after doesn’t come with guarantees. Wake up and smell the reality.”

Foot on the brake, he leaned over and murmured. “I’d rather kiss it.”

“Oh,” she sighed against his lips. “That’s a much better ending.”

“Beginning, my love. Beginning.” He corrected and nibbled a path of kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other. They deserved it. Because this time, he would let nothing tear them apart.

Acknowledgements

No book is written in a vacuum (or with a vacuum for that matter). From
the first draft to the final, I couldn’t have gotten through it without my Mini Me. She understood, she supported, she encouraged, and she even took on the housework (so I didn’t go crazy because the dishes were stacking up) and made me take breaks (so I didn’t go plain crazy) when I needed it. I’ve been blessed by so many good friends on this journey, who listened to me hammer out the plot points or vent when I was stuck, and I swear—there were times when I felt like Mac, stuck on making sure the ending happened the way it needed to happen. I hope you enjoyed the visit to Penny Hollow, the Most Haunted Town in Virginia—it certainly haunted me.

About the Author

Heather Long likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas summertime. From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.

Find Heather online at
www.heatherlong.net
,
twitter.com/HVLong
, and
www.facebook.com/HeatherLongAuthor

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