Come Midnight (28 page)

***

The truest telling of all belonged, of course, to the principals themselves. No one had a more sober respect and appreciation for the circumstances than Adam and Caitlin Lightfoot. Yet they always shared their story with a measure of joy, even as they recalled the darkness that came before the Light. For them, not a day passed without remembering what had happened—and what had nearly happened. Or without some reference to it, beginning only hours after it all ended.

"I was nearly certain I'd lost you," Adam told Caitlin as they lay in each other's arms that night. The night after she had come back to him; after Ashleigh had been delivered of a son; after life at the Hall had slowly begun to return to normal. They were in their big tester bed, sated and replete after making love. Making love for the first time, Adam thought, without a hellish shadow hanging over us. Thank God it's over.

"Aye,
macushla,
nearly certain but not entirely, thank Heaven," Caitlin replied. "Else ye'd not have kept repeatin' The Lord's Prayer, sure."

"You heard?"he asked, rising on an elbow to stare at her. "I thought—"

"That I was senseless and deaf to it?" She reached up and touched his face, lovingly tracing the scar that cut across his high cheekbone. "I was, and then again, I was not. 'Twas like ... like bein' wrapped in cotton wool .. . with sounds comin' at me through a great enormous barrier. Yet I knew one thing for certain: 'twas yer own dear voice I sensed,
a stor
, and the words were important."

"But it was Andrew's voice woke you," he reminded her.

"Aye, and the moment it did, all that went on before I awoke fell in place. I could hear yer lovely recital o' The Lord's Prayer, over and over, as if ye'd just spoken the words. Sure and ye must have said them a hundred times. Ach, for a man who niver prayed, ye seem passin' fond o' that prayer," she teased.

He smiled sheepishly. "It was the only prayer I could remember."

"Ach, don't ye know anythin', Adam Lightfoot? Heaven doesn't require memorized words from us, though the church has them in great supply, sure. But even the humblest prayers will reach the dear Lord's ears if they're heartfelt"

"Oh, I realize that now," he said, recalling his heartfelt Thank God! Even the archfiend had recognized those words as true prayer. "But when I saw you lying there like death itself, my love, I wasn't about to take any chances. The only words that came to mind were those I'd learned as a child. Perhaps because my childhood was the last time I'd known how to ... Caitlin? Sweetheart, what is it?"

Caitlin had suddenly gone very still. Adam's heart climbed into his throat She was staring straight ahead as if frozen. Though her eyes were open, when he passed a hand anxiously before her face, she didn't appear to see it. "Caitlin! "He gave her shoulder a shake. "Caitlin, for God's sake—talk to me!"

All of a sudden, she shook her head, blinked a couple of times, and looked at him. Then she gave him a brilliant smile. Adam's relief was audible in the rush of air expelled from his lungs. "God's my life, I beg of you— don't ever frighten me that way again!" he cried, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. "I thought ... I thought ..." He brought her fingers to his lips and pressed a fervent kiss on them. "What, in God's name, was that all about?"

Caitlin sighed, and this time her smile was wry. " 'Twas the Sight,
macushla
... I had a vision. And whilst I can try t' take the fright out o' them for ye, I cannot keep meself from havin' them. They just... happen,
a star
, and the dreams as well."

Recalling the history of her dreams that he was aware of, Adam shivered. "Sweetheart, if this is something dark and ominous—"

" Tis anythin' but," she said, grinning up at him

Thank you, God. "Then, if it's not too much trouble, minx," he said, kissing her on the nose, "would the Irish Angel care to enlighten her poor ignorant husband?"

"Aye," she said softly. For a moment she gazed dreamily into space, recalling the vision. Or, rather, the stream of visions, for there had been several, one melding into the next, with vivid clarity. Returning her gaze to her husband, she took Adam's hand and placed it on her abdomen.

"I've yer babe growin' inside me,
a stor
," she told him. "A wee son that'll look just like his da ... and like his brother, Andrew, o' course. A fine, healthy lad who'll pester his big brother no end. Though Andrew will adore him, make no mistake."

"I make no doubt we'll all adore him," Adam murmured, his head spinning.

Caitlin nodded. "We'll name the lad Thomas, after yer own da, and he and the Westmonts' son—John, they'll name him—will become fast friends. The pair o' them will follow Andrew about like a pair o' puppies, thinkin' he hung the moon. And all three will have their hands full when the girls arrive. They'll groan and complain iver so—"

"Wait a moment." Adam held up his hand while he tried to take it all in. He didn't doubt for a second that what she said would come to pass. Still, it was almost too much to absorb. "You were going on about the babe and then ..." He shook his head as if to clear it. "What girls?"

Caitlin laughed. "Ours,
macushla
. Two years after this babe arrives, we'll be blessed with a pair o' twins, both female."

"Twins." Adam could only stare at her in wonder.

"Aye, twin girls, who'll look a great deal like me, and exactly like each ither, except..."

"What is it?" he asked, anxious when he saw her hesitate. "What's ... have you seen something amiss with our daughters? Will they be sickly? Unfortunate? Tell me."

"Ach, don't fash yerself, a start They looked the picture o' health t' me, and happiness shone about them like an aura. 'Tis merely that..." Caitlin gave a small sigh. "The lasses will look identical, Adam, but there will be one significant distinction between the two. The older lass ... Catherine, we'll name her ... after yer ma, will be normal as rain in England. But the younger lass, the twin we'll call Rhianna ..."

"Caitlin," Adam growled, "if you don't hurry up..."

She chuckled and shook her head. "I'm sorry, me love, but there's no help for it. Our younger daughter will have the Sight."

Adam looked as if he had been poleaxed. "Can't you do something?" he muttered. He thought of the complications his wife's gift had brought to their lives. True, it had also brought them together. Indeed, it had saved his immortal soul and given him back his life ... and more, so very, very much more. Yet somehow it didn't seem cricket for a tiny, innocent babe—his own precious daughter—to be saddled with such a weighty thing.

Caitlin shook her head, but she was grinning. "Ye should know by now, me darlin', that no amount o' human effort can wish the gift away. But not t' worry,
macushla
. 'Twill niver plague us in any way near what mine did. You and I, as well as her sister and their brothers ... we'll all be free o' care where Rhianna's Sight is concerned."

"Well, that's a relief," he said. Then he caught the twinkle in his wife's eye. "All right, out with it. There's something you haven't told me."

"Aye," she replied, chuckling. "As I said, her family's safe enough from the portents in her visions and dreams, though she'll vex us with them a tad, on occasion. But 'tis our young neighbor she'll lead on a merry chase, and no mistake."

"Our young neighbor?"

Caitlin nodded. "Ashleigh and Brett's wee son, the babe just born. Our Rhianna, d'ye see, will drive the poor lad daft before he makes her his future duchess!"

Adam blinked and gazed at her in astonishment for several seconds. Then his shoulders shook, and he began to chuckle. The chuckles quickly mounted, soon breaking into all-out laughter. Caitlin's mirth merged with his. Their laughter rang out loud and clear, echoing throughout the house. Just as it would echo, again and again, through the long years of their lives.

That was the real portent of things to come, the truest one of all.