If You Ask Me To: A Highland Romance - Book 3

Chapter 4

Four

Our life settles into a pattern that is both comfortable and physically challenging.

When Ian left his law enforcement career behind, he began devoting time to something he has always loved – painting, and I had not truly realized just how talented he is.

The artwork he hadn't sold in Scotland was shipped here and the pieces went quickly. A long-time friend who owns a home décor store up on the east side of Salt Lake City carries Ian's paintings and usually asks him for more as soon as they sell. Ian has been using the den as a studio where he spends time each day painting. Because we paid cash for our home and there is no mortgage, what he makes on his art is enough for us to live comfortably and still put a little away, replenishing the savings we'd had to use for the amount my insurance didn't cover on the prosthetics. Since the checks from the modeling agency stopped long ago, Ian is the sole breadwinner and he is totally okay with that. He says providing for me is his job. Some women may think that his is a chauvinistic attitude, but not me. My husband is all man and there isn't a chauvinistic bone in his body.

Ian always accompanies me to therapy, assuring me that there is no place he would rather be than by my side. It has been a painful and slow process, but my progress is steady, and picturing myself living a normal life again has become easier.

The days soon comes when I am able to walk unassisted. Because my prosthetics are the more advanced pricier version, they give me a wide range of mobility. They were also made to match my natural skin-tone and I am able to wear my calf-length dresses and capris again. I soon start going for long walks with Ian through the neighborhood. It feels so good to have my life back, only it is better now, despite the loss of my legs, because of Ian. Being married to him has brought me indescribable happiness, and the love he showers upon me each day is a constant reminder of how blessed I am.

~ ~ ~

The seasons come and go, and no matter the weather, Ian refuses to give up wearing kilts unless absolutely necessary. They are a part of him and he will never forsake his heritage. "Besides," he always says, "I canna stand breeks, not to mention the chafin'." I laugh every time he growls the statement. He definitely wears a kilt well. I almost always garner envious stares from other women when we are out together and I am okay with that, because Ian never fails to show me that his heart and soul are mine, and I know I will never have cause to worry. He is an amazing man, definitely one of a kind.

~ ~ ~

We have been married for a little over a year when two things come to me at once. Both are joyously life-altering.

We lounge on the patio in front of the fire pit. The night is a little cool, but a thick quilt keeps us warm. The stars are clear and bright in the dark sky and the fragrance of late spring is in the air. Within the quilt, Ian's arms snugly enfold me.

We have been quietly enjoying the night sounds for a time when I ask, "Ian, how would you feel about moving back to Scotland?"

He draws back a little, peering at me through the darkness. "You would move?"

I nod. "It's time."

"Are ye sure, lass? What about our life here? You really want ta leave?"

I have pondered and prayed about this for the past few days, and God's answer left no room for doubt. Ian willingly sacrificed his home for me. Now it is my turn, only it will be no sacrifice. I will go with him and consider myself blessed. "I'm ready now. There is nothing holding me here. But what about you? Would you like to move back?"

"Aye. I would. But I am happy here with ye. I would be happy no matter where we lived."

"I know." Caressing his face, I smile, my heart bursting with the news I have ached for so long to finally tell him one day. "I want our baby to be born in Scotland."

It takes him a moment to respond. "Our . . . our babe?" He grips my hand. "Are ye sayin' what I think ye are?"

"Aye," I breathe, happiness bubbling up inside me. I have been sick on and off this past week and I finally took a test earlier today. Seeing the positive result had brought the tears in a rush. I didn't think it would ever happen for us, but I have prayed just the same. And now my prayers have been answered.

"Oh, my angel," he says, hugging me to him, emotion cracking his voice. Drawing back a little, he cups my cheek, his gentle hand caressing my skin. "Our babe will be a Scott." He laughs and I am wrapped in his joy. "Back home to Scotland, it is."