A short glide, soaring on the wind and, below, Branna picking herbs in her kitchen garden. She straightened, looked up, looked, it seemed, right into his eyes.
And she smiled, lifted a hand before taking her herbs inside with her.
All’s well, Connor told himself, and though there was always just a hint of regret, came fully back to earth. Satisfied, he climbed into the lorry.
He drove around to the stables—and felt a warm hum in his blood as he watched Meara come out with Boyle. She was a beauty for certain, he thought, an earthy one in a rough jacket and work pants, and boots that had likely seen hundreds of kilometers, on the ground and on horseback.
Later, he’d have the pleasure of removing those worn boots, those riding pants. And unwinding that thick braid so he could surround himself with waves of brown hair.
“Boyle, are you wanting a lift?” he called through the open window.
“Thanks, but no. I’ll follow you over.”
So he leaned left, shoved the door open for Meara.
She jumped in, smelling of horses and grain and saddle soap. “Christ Jesus, this was a day and a half shoved into one. The McKinnon party is leaving no stone unturned. We’ve got groups of them coming tomorrow up through two o’clock, with the wedding, I’m told, at five.”
“The same for us.”
Since she made no move, he put a hand on the back of her head, drew her over for a kiss. “Good evening to you.”
“And to you.” Her lips curved. “I wondered if you’d feel a little off center after thinking it over for a day.”
“Not much time to think, but I’m balanced well and good.”
He turned the lorry, headed away from the stables with Boyle falling in behind.
“Did you see the wolf?” he asked her.
“I did, yes. Boyle couldn’t say much as we had the crew about nearly till you came, but he said you did as well. But as with me, it was more a shadow.”
She shifted to face him, frowned. “Still, not only a shadow, as he bared his fangs, and I saw them clear, and the red stone. Did you send Roibeard?”
“I didn’t have to; he went to you on his own. But I knew from him the wolf only kept pace with you for a minute or two.”
“Enough for the horses to sense it. My biggest worry, to tell the truth, was that the horses would spook. Which they might have done, but I had a group of experienced riders. And they themselves? They saw and sensed nothing.”
“I’ve been thinking on the whys and hows of that. I want to see what Branna and Fin and Iona have to say. And I want to ask you to stay tonight at the cottage.”
“I don’t have my things,” she began.
“You have things at the cottage, enough to get you through. You can think of it as us taking turns. Stay tonight, Meara. Share my bed.”
“Are you asking because you want me to share your bed, or because you’re worried about me being on my own?”
“It would be both, but if you won’t stay, I’ll be sharing your bed.”
“That’s a fine answer,” she decided. “It works well for me. I’ll stay tonight.”
He took her hand, leaned toward her when he stopped the lorry in front of the cottage. And could already feel the kiss moving through him before their mouths met.
The lorry shook as if from a quake, jolted as the wolf pounced.
It snarled, eyes and stone gleaming red, then with a howl echoing with triumph, leaped off. And was gone.
“Holy Jesus!” Meara managed an instant before Connor shoved out of the lorry. “Wait, wait. It might still be out there.” She yanked at her own door, shoved, but it held firm against her.
“Goddamn it, Connor. Goddamn it, let me out.”