The Call of Bravery

EPILOGUE



A STIR AT the head of the aisle turned heads in the church. Seizing the moment when no one was looking toward him, Duncan gently rubbed the heel of his hand against his breastbone. Too much was going on inside him, and it was pressing for release.

He’d never expected to see Conall get married. Duncan suppressed a grunt of near-amusement. He’d resigned himself to never seeing his youngest brother again at all. Hearing his voice on the phone had been miracle enough. But this…

His gaze touched on Jane, who sat holding Fiona in the front pew. His beautiful wife and their child. Fiona met her daddy’s eyes and grinned, her face lighting with delight. She bounced on Jane’s lap, arms flapping, causing his wife to look at him, too. Her smile was warm, accepting, knowing. She guessed what he was feeling, even though he hadn’t said much.

He hadn’t had to say much. Jane knew him.

The organ music swelled and shy Anna started down the aisle, carrying her basket and strewing rose petals as she went, concentrating and careful not to look at the audience. Duncan smiled at the sight of her solemnity, her shiny patent leather shoes, skinny legs and the wide frilly skirt of her dress. She’d been thrilled to be invited to be in the wedding.

Jane craned her neck to see, as did Niall and Rowan beside her. Desmond, sitting on the end, grinned encouragement at his sister. Niall had a seemingly casual hand on his back, which was probably all that kept the kid’s mouth shut. Des and Anna were MacLachlans now, officially having been adopted by Niall.

By all of us. They’re family. My family.

The single attendant, a friend of Lia’s, appeared and started her turn down the aisle.

Chest still aching, Duncan turned his head to look at his little brother standing beside him, all grown up. Conall was almost handsome in a tuxedo, but Duncan could feel his tension. Was he half afraid Lia would chicken out at the last second? Duncan had had a chill himself in the same spot; trust didn’t come easily to any of the MacLachlan brothers.

But there Lia was, an extraordinarily beautiful woman who never took her eyes off Conall from the moment she began the slow walk down the aisle escorted by two skinny, big-eyed boys in suits and ties. Duncan had the passing hope the getups weren’t left from their mother’s funeral, but he immediately relaxed. Lia would have made sure Walker and Brendan had something new.

Her parents were here today, in the front pew opposite the one that held the MacLachlan family. She’d made the decision to have the boys give her away, though, and Duncan suspected they’d felt about it the way he had when Conall asked him to be his best man. He’d been stunned speechless, so choked up he couldn’t get a word out for a good minute.

“Not Niall?” he’d finally managed to ask.

Conall had given him a wry grin. “Come on, we’ve always known you’re the best man. I’m bowing to reality.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Conall had had to clear his throat. “I’m sure.”

Of course neither of their parents were here today. Duncan felt something unexpected: pity. It was their loss.

Gaze moving from the awe and love on Conall’s face to Niall as he wrapped an arm around Anna and then lifted her onto his lap, Duncan remembered that long-ago day when their mother had walked out after Dad was sentenced to ten years in the pen. Duncan had come home from his summer job hoping for dinner and found Mom packed.

“You’re…leaving?” His voice had cracked.

“Yes,” she’d said with so little emotion, he knew she was already gone in all but body. “You should, too.”

If he’d left for college the way he had planned, Niall would have survived. Maybe. “But…Conall,” Duncan had croaked in protest. No, begged.

“There’s nothing either of us can do for him, or Niall either. Face it.” And somewhere in there, she’d said, “Conall’s not your responsibility.”

Duncan had made a decision that day. He’d given up his dreams because he’d believed she was wrong.

He’d known for a long time that he had done the right thing. He’d even figured out that he felt a hell of a lot more than responsibility for his brothers.

Today, watching Conall hold out his hand for the woman who had taught him to love again, then smile at the two boys and murmur something to them before they stepped awkwardly aside and retreated to the pew with their adoptive grandparents, Duncan felt his eyes burning.

His brothers hadn’t only survived, they’d become good men who had responded in their turn the same way Duncan had that day. When they were needed, they’d stepped up to the plate.

Have I ever told them how proud I am of them?

He wondered what expression was on his face right now. Am I going to cry?

Yeah, he thought in astonishment and some embarrassment, maybe.

He met his wife’s eyes again and felt as if his chest might split open. All he could think was, how rare was it in a lifetime that a man had the chance to know how lucky he was? To have everyone he loved in one place? All well and happy and surrounded in their turn by people who loved them?

Conall and Lia, hand in hand, had turned to face the pastor, who smiled at them with warmth and wisdom. His voice filled the church with a natural resonance. “We are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony.”

Duncan swallowed the lump in his throat.

My family.

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