Forever in My Heart: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Read online

  “If it makes ye uncomfortable, I won’t—”

  “Nay, it doesn’t. Or it won’t with ye. I don’t mind.”

  He kissed her again before climbing out of bed to light the lamp. He turned it low, then he pulled off his nightshirt and laid it on the dresser.

  She sighed. He was a fine specimen of a man. She’d nearly forgotten just how attractive he was. Even though he was the same man she’d married years ago, she had no longer been able to see past the cruel hardness and bitter disposition. In the bedroom, sating his own lust was all that had been important to him. This man looked at her with love and desire in his eyes

  He slipped back under the covers. He caressed her shoulder before slipping his hand down to cup her breast through her night rail. “Can we take this off?”

  Completely naked? With a lamp burning? A slow smile spread across her face. “Aye, we can.”

  Raising up on his knees, he slid both hands down her body until he reached the hem of the garment. “Raise yer hips.”

  She did and he pushed it up, above her waist. Then he took her hands, pulling her to a sitting position. He cupped her face with both hands and gave her another soul stirring kiss before whispering, “Raise yer arms, my love.”

  She did as he asked. He slid his hands under the night rail, caressing her as he lifted it up and over her head. “Ye’re beautiful.”

  She shivered a little, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the cool air or the wonderful feel of his hands.

  He wrapped his arms around her, the heat from his body dispelling the chill. Lowering her back to the bed, he trailed kisses down her throat to her breasts, pulling the covers up over his head. He kissed and stroked her, lighting a fire in her belly she’d never felt.

  He continued his journey down her body, the whisper soft kisses leaving a burning path past her navel to her most private parts.

  Her hands came up to stop him. “You don’t mean to…to…kiss me there, do you?”

  He chuckled. “Of course I do.”

  “But that’s not…we shouldn’t…”

  He raised up, lifting the edge of the blanket, making eye contact. “Please let me. I think ye might like it.”

  She could only nod.

  He lowered his head again, continuing his assault on her senses.

  Oh, dear God. She did like it. She loved it.

  When he flicked his tongue against her sensitive nub, she was completely lost. The sensation was divine. The moan of pure pleasure she heard could not have escaped from her lips…but it had.

  He licked and sucked, driving her ever higher. She’d never felt like this. It was as if she were racing towards some goal, with no idea what it was. And while she wished desperately to get there, she didn’t want these exquisite sensations to end.

  Then he stopped.

  No! She was so close to whatever it was, why would he stop?

  Before she could wrap her mind around it, he knelt between her legs, lifted her hips slightly, and joined with her in one firm stroke.

  Oh my word. She was right back where she’d been moments ago. She rose to meet him, lost in the primal act. He drove into her again and again until she was overcome with shuddering waves of ecstasy. The muscles at her core contracted repeatedly around him, and he too found his release.

  He held himself above her for a moment, panting. Then with a deep satisfied sigh, he leaned forward and kissed her. “Ye’re a more desirable woman than any man deserves.”

  If anything could have made that moment more wonderful, those words did.

  ~ * ~

  Mary had slept soundly in the curve of her Jock’s warm body. So soundly that, the first thing to wake her was Katie’s squeals of delight from the door. “Mama, Papa, Father Christmas came.”

  Jock pulled at the blankets to make sure they were covered. “I knew he would. Now, just give yer mama and me a moment to dress and we’ll see what he brought.”

  The Christmas day that followed was as magical as the night before. The little cottage was warm, bright, and brimming with love and laughter. To her surprise there were two small packages for her on the table. One contained a bar of rose scented soap. The other a small silver brooch.

  “I hope ye like it. I found it in a second-hand store and it reminded me of one my grandmother used to wear.”

  She kissed him. “I love it.” And she did love it, but it could have been a wooden spoon or a lump of coal and she would have felt the same. It was a gift from the man she adored.

  After the children were finally asleep that night, Katie clutching her doll, and Robbie, his dog, Mary began sewing the second shirt she was making for Jock. He sat at the table, seemingly lost in thought.

  After a while he said, “Mary, there’s something I want to discuss with ye.”

  “Of course.” She laid her sewing aside and joined him at the table.

  As he took her hands in his, his brows furrowed. What could be so grave? Then she noticed the pocket watch on the table beside him, causing her heart to miss a beat.

  “Are ye ready to return to yer own time?” She voiced the fear that had immediately jumped to mind.”

  He looked her in the eye, squeezing her hands tighter. “Oh, no. Not now. Not yet.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “But I am worried. I do have to leave at some point before the eighteenth day of February. And I’ve been considering the situation. I need to make certain ye’ll be all right after I return to my own time.”

  She wouldn’t be, but she’d never say that.

  “I want to leave ye secure. So I’ve been running the numbers.”

  “Running the numbers?”

  “I mean, I’ve been thinking about your finances. Ye were making ends meet on three shillings and four pence a week—which included the shilling ye made from sewing.”

  “I can take in enough to make two shillings a week since I don’t have to hide it from ye.”

  “Even better. So, if ye continued to be thrifty, we could put aside a pound eight shillings and six pence a week even allowing a tuppence more for coal. If I stay as long as possible—eight weeks and a bit.”

  “Ye don’t want to stay here that long. Ye saved me from prison and I’ll always be thankful for that. Ye needn’t worry more.”

  “Mary, I’m not going to leave ye with no way to provide for yerself and the children. Ye’d end up in the workhouse. So hear me out. If I stay as long as possible, we could save a total of eleven pounds and eight shillings. You’d have enough to book passage to America for yerself and the children. Plus, ye’d have a nest egg of several pounds in yer pocket to get ye started in yer new life. Ye could find yer brothers.”

  America? Could she? “I don’t know, Jock. I’m not sure I’m brave enough to do it alone.”

  “I, on the other hand, am absolutely confident that ye are. But if ye decide ye don’t want to, ye need a shilling and six a week to supplement yer income. What I can earn would be enough to keep ye going for almost three years.”

  “Three years.” She could hardly believe it. That was practically an eternity.

  “Aye, but if it’s America ye want, don’t let that dream go. Still, a lot can happen in three years. Maybe ye can get a bit more from the tailor eventually and it would last even longer.”

  She laughed. “The only way to get more from him would be to marry him.”

  A frown briefly marred Jock’s brow. “Aye, there’s that too.”

  “So ye’d be willing to stay the full time?”

  “To provide ye with a bit of security, of course I would.”

  She looked into his warm eyes. She didn’t ever want him to go, but as that wasn’t an option, she’d take all the time she could get. “Thank ye, Jock. Ye’ll never know what this means to me.”

  Chapter 6

  The weeks that followed were the happiest of Mary’s life. After Jock had figured out the financial side of things, she was able to set aside most of the worries about what how she and the children would survive after he left. She’d force herself not think about what would become of her heart. She grew to love him more and more as time passed and she was determined to fit a lifetime of love into a few weeks.

  True to his word, he was teaching her to read. At least he’d begun to teach her letters and the sounds they made. But they had so little time together as it was, she was reluctant to spend much of it in that pursuit. Not when there were so many more delightful ways to pass the hours.

  She cherished the time they spent making love. The intimacy she shared with him was unlike anything she’d ever imagined. The social mores of her time held that women did not, and should not enjoy sex. And perhaps most of them didn’t. But she did. Then again, she didn’t have a Victorian man bedding her. Maybe they’d learned a few things in the future.

  Aside from that, her absolute favorite thing was snuggling next to him in bed at night and listening to his stories about the future. The music alone sounded delightful—swing, jazz and most enticing of all rock and roll.

  Sometimes he’d sing bits of songs for her. When he did, he usually followed it with, “That’s not very good. I wish you could hear it performed by the actual artists.”

  But whether or not he thought it was good, she loved it.

  The way he cared for the children tugged at a completely different part of her heart. He was such a good father. She envied the woman in the future who would win his love and give him children.

  That thought always caused a little pain because it reminded her, he didn’t belong here and would be leaving. As the eighteenth of February drew closer, this pain grew sharper. She longed to beg him to stay but she would never give in to that. It wasn’t fair to him.

  When he came home from the bookstore on Saturday, February fourteenth, he carried a small bouquet of flowers and gave her a kiss. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” But he seemed unusually subdued that evening.

  Even Katie noticed. “Da, is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s grand, sugar plum. I’m just a bit tired tonight.”

  But after the children were in bed, Mary raised the issue. “Katie’s right. It seems as if something’s bothering ye and I don’t think it’s because ye’re tired.”

  He nodded. “Aye, ye’re right. Something’s been weighing on my mind.”

  “Do ye want to tell me what it is?”

  “I only have four days left.”

  Mary’s breath caught. She swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat. “Aye. I know.” Please, please, God, don’t let him leave tonight. Give me just one more night.

  “It’s only that…I was wondering…I mean, have ye thought any more about going to America after I leave.”

  She nodded. “I’ve thought about it.” But she hadn’t. She didn’t want to think beyond February eighteenth. There would be time later.

  “I did some checking. There’s a ship leaving in three weeks. Ye could be in America before the end of March.”

  “Oh. That’s good to know.”

  He frowned. “The thing is, I was just wondering, would ye mind waiting?”

  “Waiting?”

  “Mary, I know I made ye promises. Ye were probably looking forward to leaving soon. But, I’ve fallen desperately in love with ye. I want to stay with ye. I want to emigrate to America with ye. But I’d have to earn more money first.”

  Had she heard him right? “Ye want to stay?”

  “Aye.”

  “And ye love me?”

  “With all my heart.”

  She burst into tears. “Oh, Jock.”

  He crossed the room and gathered her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Mary. I thought ye might feel the same. Please don’t cry.”

  “Ye big eejit, I do feel the same. My heart was breaking with the thought of ye leaving. I’ll wait as long as ye want to, and follow ye to the ends of the earth when ye’re ready to leave.”

  ~ * ~

  February fifteenth was an unusually bright, sunny day. Or maybe it was just the joy in Mary’s heart made it seem that way. Her new Jock loved her and she loved him. They planned to book passage to America in May. They’d have enough for all of them to make the journey in a few weeks, but having a larger sum saved would be prudent. She was practically bubbling over with joy as they left the church.

  Robbie squirmed in Jock’s arms. “Down.”

  “It’s a long walk, lad,” said Jock.

  “Down.”

  “I’ll hold his hand, Da,” offered Katie.

  “Well, I suppose giving the lad’s legs a wee stretch after sitting through church isn’t a bad idea.” Jock stood him on the ground.

  Katie took his little hand in hers, chattering away to him.

  Jock took Mary by the hand. “Then I’ll hold yers.” He whistled a tune as they walked.

  She smiled. “That’s pretty. I’ve heard ye whistle it before. What’s it called?”

  “Love Me Tender. It’s a very sweet love song, and perfectly suits my mood today.” He sang it to her.

  She smiled. “The words are beautiful. Love Me Tender.”

  Jock leaned in and whispered, “It’s from a movie that came out a few years ago. Elvis—”

  He instantly collapsed.

  Mary fell to her knees beside him. “Jock. Jock. Oh dear God, someone help me.”

  Katie turned back and ran the few steps to them, pulling Robbie behind her. “What’s wrong with Da?”

  Several other people leaving the church, rushed to her side.

  “What happened?”

  “Is he ill?”

  Mary wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest and sobbing. “Jock. Jock. Please don’t leave me.”

  Peggy MacLennan, a neighbor, pushed through the onlookers and scooped Robbie up. “I’ll mind the wee ones, Mary.” She gently pulled a sobbing Katie away. “Come, poppet. Yer da needs a bit of room.”

  Old Dr. MacKay also pushed his way through the gathering crowd and knelt down on Jock’s other side. “Mary, move now, lass, and let me see what’s wrong.”

  But Mary knew what was wrong. It could only be one thing. Her Jock’s special word, the one that would return him to his own time was Elvis. He was gone forever and she was a widow.

  Chapter 7

  Govan, Scotland

  October 24, 1893 (Thirty-five years later)

  Mary lay on the bed, her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep.

  Her oldest, Katie sat on the bed beside her. “Mama, please drink some broth.”

  Opening her eyes, Mary smiled what felt like a very lopsided smile and shook her head. No thank ye, Katie. To her frustration, the only word to escape her lips was, “Elvis.”

  “Please, Mama, ye’re growing weaker by the day.”

  And a bit of broth isn’t going to make me stronger. “Elvis.”

  “How is she, Katie?”

  Mary recognized her husband, James’ voice.

  “Sadly, no different. Ye’re home early.”

  “Aye, I left the shop in Garrett’s hands. He’ll come here after he’s closed up. Ye married a fine man, Katie.”

  She chuckled. “Aye. I’m right well pleased with him myself.”

  Garrett was a fine man, and an excellent tailor. Mary nodded. “Elvis.”

  “That’s still all she says?”

  “Aye, Da. The doctor says that’s not likely to change. He says people often lose all ability to speak after an apoplexy but sometimes they hold onto a few words.”

  “But why this word? Why Elvis?”

  Mary knew exactly why. Not a day had passed in thirty-five years when she hadn’t thought of it. But even if her brain could get the words to her lips, she wouldn’t tell him.

  “We’ll probably never know. Da, she needs to eat. Maybe she’ll take a few bites for ye.”

  “I’ll try.” He took the bowl from Katie.

  She stood up. “Ye can sit here, Da. I’ll just go downstairs and finish making supper.”

  James brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Thank ye, sweetling.” He took Katie’s place on the bed. “Mary, my love, please have a little broth.”

  With great effort, Mary lifted a hand and laid it on James’ leg. He too was a good man, and Mary cared deeply for him. I’m not hungry, dear, was what she intended to say. But once again, all that came out was “Elvis.” The tone of her voice was tender. She hoped he heard that.

  He looked down, into the bowl of broth. When he looked up again, tears stood in his eyes. “I love ye, Mary. I love ye with everything in me, ye know that. I’m not ready to lose ye, but I fear ye’ve given up.”

  I’m tired, James. Ye’ve been a good husband and an excellent father. Ye raised Katie and Robbie as if they were yers even after we had children of our own. Ye’ve given me a good life. I care deeply for ye. And even though I suspect ye knew ye’d never be first in my heart when ye asked me to marry ye, ye gave me all of yer love, wholly and unconditionally. It has been an honor and a joy having ye at my side these last thirty four years. I wish I could stay here for ye. I wish I could be the one to hold yer hand when yer time comes. But I can’t. I’m so very tired. I’m ready to go.

  She patted his leg. “Elvis.”

  He set the bowl on the bedside table and took her hand in his. “Aye, my darling. I’ll never be ready.”

  Mary couldn’t say how long they sat like that, holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes. The only way to break the spell was to close hers.

  I’m sure Katie has supper ready, dear. I’ll rest now. “Elvis.”

  James leaned down and kissed her. “I’ll let ye rest now, love. I’ll come back up after supper.”

  She smiled and nodded, but didn’t open her eyes. She heard the door click shut. But just as she began drifting off to sleep, it opened again. She turned her head towards the door, expecting to see James, or Katie or one of her grandchildren. But it was a well-dressed older woman she’d never seen before.

  She frowned. Who are ye? “Elvis?”

  “Good evening, Mary. Although we’ve never met, I believe ye know who I am. My name is Gertrude.”