by Laurel Kerr
Magnus bobbed his head.
“My great-auntie on my mum’s side lived in the Isles, and my parents sent me to live with her for the rest of the war. It was a peaceful place even with all the military men running about.”
Aye, some people might consider Orkney peaceful—if they lived in a snug cottage in a village or on one of the more prosperous farms and didn’t have to work from morning ’til night trying to eke out a living on one of the rockier islands. For Magnus, it had been a dreary existence. A love for the land hadn’t sunk into his marrow as it had for his father’s people. He was, as his da had always accused him of being, his mother’s child. A wanderer.
“I have so many fond memories of those years,” Clara continued. “I met my husband in Orkney. He was an American airman stationed there toward the end of the fighting. He was the most handsome fellow I’d ever seen.”
June chose that moment to pop into the conversation. “Nan has so many stories about Tammay.”
Magnus had to prevent himself from physically reacting to the name of the bigger island next to the small one where his da had his croft. Shite. The woman had lived in his hometown.
Clara Winters’s eyes appeared almost gold as she turned toward him again. “You captured the isle’s beauty so well in your writings. It was like I was back walking on the streets of Grarthorpe and taking tea at the Mary Rose.”
Magnus jerked his chin in response. Talking about Tammay made him as skittish as a horse crossing the strand with the tide rushing in. That’s why he’d never written about the isle after the first book. He’d meant to bury the place, not resurrect it.
June reached for his arm again. He started to shift away, but she was quicker. Her hand brushed his bicep, lingering just for a moment. The slight touch had a seismic effect. Sensation ricocheted through him, unsettling him. He’d just managed to put himself to rights when June spoke again.
“Why, I have the most wonderful idea! You and Nana could reminisce about Tammay together! Wouldn’t that be heavenly?”
Not quite. More like hell. Unfortunately, Clara’s face lit like the sunrise over the North Sea, brilliant and encompassing. “Oh, that sounds lovely,” she said.
Magnus was saved from answering when the door to the maintenance facility banged open, and Abby, Bowie’s daughter, bounded into the room. She had her da’s black hair, gray eyes, and love for animals. Every day, as soon as the bus dropped her off, she’d race to the llama pen to check on the pregnant Lulubelle. In her enthusiasm, the wee lassie never took the time to remove her rucksack. Instead, she’d run through the zoo with the heavy bag bouncing off her back.
As a boy, Magnus had never felt exuberance like Abby’s when he’d return to the croft. He remembered rowing back to the small island, each stroke adding more weight to his heart. Aye, he’d loved the animals. They’d made life tolerable. But they’d never given him the joy that flowed so freely from the lassie.
The girl’s stepmother, Katie, entered the zoo’s maintenance facility at a more sedate pace, but no one could miss the excitement in her eyes. She carried a camera bag slung over her shoulder. Magnus had never seen her without it. She handled the zoo’s advertising, and she had a way of turning the most mundane moment into a marketing masterpiece.
“Dad called and said they’re almost here!” Abby announced as she bounced up and down like a piece of driftwood during a rough storm. Although Magnus had never possessed even a tenth of the girl’s enthusiasm, there was something charming about the lassie’s affection for the zoo animals. Despite her high spirits, she reminded him a bit of himself as a lad when the cows and the horses had been his only real companions. His da hadn’t tolerated any visitors, and he’d wanted Magnus back at the croft immediately after classes, not that Magnus had received many invitations. His stutter had made his schoolmates uncomfortable. Despite his lack of experience with children, he found himself at ease with Abby. The lassie didn’t expect anything of him, except for him listen to her chatter about the zoo.
Abby liked helping out around the animal park, and she didn’t mind the smellier jobs. Yesterday evening when she’d found Magnus mucking out the indoor llama enclosure during her daily visit to Lulubelle, she’d picked up her own shovel. She’d talked the whole time, filling the quiet with stories of zoo residents. As a lad, Magnus had worked in silence beside his da, the only sound the constant roar of the wind. Surprisingly, he hadn’t minded the lassie’s endless commentary. Aye, she had surprising wit and keen observation for one so young. And she was a hard worker. She probably would’ve pitched in longer if her da hadn’t collected her for supper and schoolwork.
“The cub?” Magnus asked. He would’ve said more, but he didn’t want to trip over his words. He’d managed to hide his stutter from everyone but June, and he wanted to keep it that way. Luckily, Katie understood his truncated question immediately.
“Bowie said she’s doing well after her flight. She’s already taken some formula and is sleeping in Lou’s arms during the drive,” Katie said, referring to the former owner of the zoo who was a trained veterinarian. “Bowie and Lou have the temperature way up in the truck. Bowie says it’s like a sauna.”
“What’s the cub’s name?” June asked.
“She doesn’t have one yet,” Abby said. She’d stopped bouncing, but her body still seemed to vibrate with suppressed excitement. She pivoted to Magnus, her eyes shining brightly. When she spoke, her words came out in a rush. “Do you know any Scottish ones, Mr. Gray?”
“Sorcha.” The name of his favorite Highland cow from boyhood slipped from his lips before he’d had the chance to think or even stumble on the word.
Abby clapped her hands and gave a little jump. “I love it.”
Just then, Bowie appeared on the other side of the glass. He paused, holding the door open for Lou. The older man moved at slow pace, his eyes focused on the little bear cradled against his chest. Pure affection lit his lined face as he stared down at the cub swaddled in a fluffy pink blanket. Two sleepy black eyes peeked out from the wrapping. Although Magnus couldn’t see much else except for a black nose and two little paws, he could tell the wee beastie hadn’t grown her thick coat yet. He spotted a flash of pink tongue before her eyes drifted closed.
Silence fell over the hallway as the cub yawned and snuggled deeper into the fleece. Even Abby had stilled, her mouth frozen in an O. Then she let out a squeak and tucked both her hands under her chin.
Magnus could tell Abby wanted to dash into the nursery, but being raised around animals, she knew better than to frighten Sorcha. Still, she couldn’t seem to stop her entire body from pitching forward in the direction of the wee bear. An uncharacteristic smile crossed Magnus’s face.
Beside him, he heard a sharp intake of breath. Turning, he found June staring at the wee beastie, her green eyes sparkling with undisguised, almost childlike wonder. She looked just as enraptured as the lassie. Transfixed himself, Magnus couldn’t help but stare. He was a cynical arse, raised by a man who didn’t believe in emotions. Americans with their wide grins and generally jolly attitudes always left him a bit befuddled.
And June Winters was luminous. Aye, she was a regular solar flare of delight. But she didn’t leave him feeling confused. Far from it. The heat she radiated warmed him like a crackling peat fire in the dead of winter.
June swung in his direction. A fetching smile touched her bonny pink lips, with the tips curling even more when she caught sight of him. An unusual glow kindled inside Magnus. In that moment, June’s excitement seemed solely for him, and he felt drawn to the lass like an eyebright flower reaching for the spring sun.
Which was absolutely rubbish. Because everyone knew what happened to mortals who had the hubris to approach a solar deity. They either got burned alive or fell on their arses like Icarus. Since Magnus didn’t particularly desire either result, he turned and exited the maintenance facility. He’d have plenty of
time with the wee Sorcha later, and then he wouldn’t have to contend with an audience. Especially one that included a bonny sun goddess determined to drive him utterly doolally.
* * *
June was fit to be tied. The blasted man had just marched away from her for a third time. At least he hadn’t slammed the door. But she figured he probably would have if it wasn’t for the little cub yawning in Bowie’s arms.
Men did not walk away from June. Especially when she smiled at them. They always grinned right back and sauntered over to her. It just got her dander up that Magnus Gray kept slighting her.
“Nan,” June said before realizing her voice sounded as sharp as a freshly honed knife. Modulating her voice, she said in a softer tone, “Nana.”
Her grandmother turned, her eyes soft from watching Bowie gently lay the little cub next to Sylvia, the zoo’s capybara. Sylvia gently nudged the bear with her snout, and the tiny girl wiggled closer, burying her black nose against the rodent’s side. Bowie had explained capybaras were comfortable in a variety of environments, so Sylvia would be able to handle both the current warmth Sorcha required and the cooler temperatures the cub would prefer as she grew bigger.
“Yes, dear?” her grandmother asked.
“I have something I need to take care of,” June explained. “Would you mind staying here with Katie?”
“Not at all, but are you certain it can’t wait? This cub is all you’ve been talking about for days.”
June patted her grandmother’s arm. Today had been a particularly good one for the older woman. She hadn’t experienced a single episode of confusion…yet. June suspected it was partly due to her nan’s excitement over the new polar bear. The older woman looked more animated than she had in weeks. Color had flooded back into her cheeks, and her hazel eyes twinkled with a clarity they’d lacked. But it hadn’t been just the cub. Meeting Magnus had contributed too, which was why June couldn’t delay her mission.
“I won’t be long, Nan,” June promised as she turned and headed out the same door that Magnus had exited. It was still fairly early on a Sunday morning, and the zoo hadn’t opened yet. The wind whipped through the deserted pathways, and June pulled her coat closer. Blustery days like this made her wish she’d settled in Georgia with her mama’s family. Generally, she loved Sagebrush, even during the blistering summer heat, but she could never get used to the cold.
As she turned the corner of the goat pen, she spotted Magnus’s burly form ahead. He moved like an angry grizzly, his stride both powerful and lumbering. He did not wear a coat despite the cold. Instead, he hunched over, his head bowed into the breeze, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. He was a man who pushed the world away, daring it to defy him.
And June had never been able to resist a challenge.
“Magnus!” she called.
He stiffened at the sound of his name, his shoulders straightening. Then they slumped right back down as he continued plowing through the wind. June narrowed her eyes. The blasted man had heard her. Even if she hadn’t witnessed his reaction to her voice, she’d yelled loud enough to wake the dead in the next county over. Several of the younger fainting goats had even toppled over, their legs sticking straight up in the air.
June picked up her pace and hollered again. This time, eight goats hit the ground and three more hopped forward, their knees locked in place. Magnus hesitated, giving June just enough time to grab his arm. She would have tapped his shoulder, but even with her height, she would have had to stand on her tiptoes.
He heaved a sigh, reminding June of her grandpappy’s dog after it lost its meal to the barn cat. Slowly, Magnus turned and faced her. As she stared up at over six feet of glowering male, she wondered why he intrigued her. His personality was as unpleasant as a thunderstorm in August, but there was something about him that made her want to see what happened when he smiled.
Magnus watched her expectantly, his blue eyes like twin icicles beneath his shaggy hair. His beard obscured most of his mouth, but she had a feeling he was scowling as well.
“I just wanted a quick chat,” June said. “You don’t need to look like an angry lumberjack.”
He blew out another breath, his broad shoulders slumping in unison with the beleaguered sound. When he spoke, he sounded resigned. “Roughneck.” The word dropped carefully from his lips, and she could tell he was trying his darndest not to stutter. Unfortunately, she didn’t understand his one-word response.
“Pardon?”
He wet his lips and started again, his tone slow and careful. “I was a roughneck, not a lumberjack.”
June brightened. “Oh! I didn’t mean your occupation. You just remind me of Paul Bunyan in your flannel.” She started to flick the cuff of his shirt, but he stepped back. His brown eyebrows pulled downward in confusion.
“Who?”
“Paul Bunyan is an old tall tale. He lived in Minnesota and had a giant blue ox as a pet.”
Magnus crossed his arms and gave her a hard stare, looking more like a Viking than a woodsman. Considering he’d grown up on an isle in the North Sea, it was probably a more accurate description, not that June planned on sharing it with him. He didn’t seem too enamored by the Paul Bunyan reference, and she didn’t want to attempt another.
“Did you stop me for a reason, lass?”
“I’m on a mission.”
He arched one thick eyebrow. “I don’t much like being p-p-p-p…”
Magnus’s eyebrow dropped back down as his entire body stiffened. When he blocked on a sound, it wasn’t just his articulators that locked up. His head moved slightly to the left as he tried to speak. It wasn’t unusual for people with disfluency to develop secondary movements. Often, the unnecessary physical reactions started as a way to control the stutter but then became part of it. June wouldn’t be surprised if Magnus wasn’t even fully aware of what his body was doing. Her brother, August, hadn’t been.
Instead of pushing Magnus or trying to finish the statement for him, she waited. It was hard knowing where to look when someone experienced a hard block. She didn’t want to stare, but she didn’t want to glance away either. Even though June used to stutter, it was difficult to know how to react. But she’d had practice with her brother, so she treated Magnus just as she would’ve August. It seemed to work.
Magnus swallowed and finished, “…part of your mission.”
“You’re not so much a part of it as the end goal.”
June might be mistaken, but she thought the man colored. His beard covered most of his face, but flags of red appeared on his harsh cheekbones. It could have been from the cold, but June didn’t think so.
“Your bum’s out the window.”
“Excuse me?”
“Didn’t your nana ever use that expression?”
June shook her head.
“It means you’re talking nonsense.”
“Ooo, I like that one,” June said. “I just love folksy expressions, don’t you? I started collecting them in a diary when I was a little girl. Since my daddy was stationed all over the world, I have hundreds. I make up my own too.”
Magnus stared at her, and June sensed he was debating about making another break for it. Before he could, she grabbed his arm again. His gaze shifted toward her hand, and she suddenly became aware of the coiled heat beneath her fingertips. Very aware. My goodness, the man had muscles harder than Georgia granite.
“I need to ask you a favor,” June told him as she slowly removed her fingers from his bicep. He shot her a baleful expression.
June dipped her chin slightly, just like her mama had taught her, allowing her to look at Magnus from beneath her eyelashes as she smiled. Men never failed to respond to that particular gesture, even the most bullheaded ones. However, Magnus’s expression didn’t change, and a whisper of frustration wound through June. “It’s not for me. It’s for my nana. She loves hearing sto
ries about Bjar—” she explained.
A flicker of softness flashed in Magnus’s blue eyes before they froze over again. “I don’t talk about that isle, lass.”
All of June’s carefully constructed arguments blew from her mind as frustrated anger swept through her. The man was as bullheaded as a groundhog after a fresh tomato. “You wrote an entire book about it.”
“It was a purge.”
“A purge?”
“An enema.”
“Did you just call your bestseller an enema?”
“Aye.”
“You are a complicated man, Magnus Gray.”
“Nay. Just a simple bloke who likes peace, quiet, and a good tattie scone.”
Although June fully believed the man liked solitude and Scottish cooking, she didn’t buy his first claim. The reclusive author had depths greater than Loch Ness that hid mysteries even bigger than a fabled sea monster. Although June excelled at charting a person’s personality within minutes of meeting them, she still couldn’t fathom this man.
“Good day.” With that parting salvo, Magnus Gray started to turn and walk away from June for a fourth time in a row. Before he could take one step, however, all hell broke loose in the form of cloven-footed critters.
* * *
Honey’s nose twitched as she watched the Giant One and the Blond One. She respected the devious spark lurking in the woman’s green eyes. And she’d been monitoring the hulking newcomer since his arrival. Unlike the careless Fluffy, Honey knew how to conceal her presence. The Giant One had no idea she’d stalked him for days.
He intrigued her. He was not like most weak-willed humans who craved the company of their own kind. The Giant One preferred solitude, just like honey badgers.
Since her arrival at the zoo, Honey had been watching for suitable adversaries. Although the young female cougars had the speed and agility to keep her reflexes limber, they lacked foresight and cunning. The grizzly was elderly and slow. And the rest of the animals did not interest her. Unfortunately, the human keepers did not provide the same amusement as her old biped. They were too pleasant.
