Desired By The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 2)

by Veronica Wilson

  Similar arrows flew, and as the herd cleared twenty deer lay dead, waiting to be processed. Dagmar delegated men to strip the deer of their pelts and clean and wrap them. Dragna and the other women would break them down into boots, mittens, tunics and other clothing the group needed. The meat was quickly quartered and wrapped as well. Everything was packed and they were off after the next quarry.

  Four days later, the men returned from their very successful trip.

  “About time you brought home something besides a lady,” one man joked, slapping Dagmar on the back.

  “We’ll eat well now, for sure.” Dagmar dropped the canoe, letting others in the camp deal with the meat and pelts. He was tired and wanted the peace and quiet of his quarters.

  “You did well.” Sighing, Dagmar turned to see Aila standing in the doorway.

  “Thank you,” he said, absorbing the shock of her beauty after the long absence. Never having been much more than an arm’s length from each other, he’d taken it for granted that she’d always be there. “Do you think it’s enough?”

  “I’m sure Dragna and the other women will be able to make do with what you brought in.”

  “The pelts sure will help.”

  “Yes, they will,” Aila agreed.

  “You’re dressed up today,” he said, noting her all-white ermine tunic.

  “I was asked on a walk by Svenbreck.”

  “Oh, nice.”

  “I just wanted to stop and say congratulations. I, for one, am glad to see you stepping up and showing at least an aptitude for true leadership.”

  Dagmar bit back the retort that wanted to spill from him. “Have fun with Sven, I’m going to get some rest before supper.”

  “See you later.”

  Chapter Two: Leaders

  “I can’t believe there’s only three weeks until the Solstice,” said Sven. “It seems like just yesterday we were celebrating the coming of spring.”

  “I know,” Aila said, trying desperately to keep the conversation going. “Is the Winter Solstice your favorite celebration?”

  “Yes. Aside from my birthday, of course.”

  “Well, I suppose we all like to be the center of attention on our birthdays. Makes me wonder how twins do it, always having to share their day and with a sibling.”

  “Perhaps that’s why they’re always so close, because they always have to share.”

  “Perhaps,” Aila agreed. “So Sven, if you don’t mind my asking—if you had to pick a ruler to lead our people, who would you pick?”

  “You mean between you and Dagmar?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “To be honest, and please don’t punch me for saying this, each of you has strengths that benefit our people. However, you also have weaknesses. You do the most good if you could choose to rule together, although I doubt that will happen any time soon.”

  “Why?”

  “Because both of you are strong leaders; neither one of you wants to concede to the other.”

  “Damn. And here I was, hoping you’d just acquiesce and say I was the better leader.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “It’s alright. I wanted honesty and you gave it to me. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Svenbreck smiled. “I suppose I should get you back before supper starts without us.”

  “Yes,” Aila agreed. “Thank you for the walk. It was nice to spend some quiet time in your company.”

  “It is me who should be grateful,” Svenbreck said. Aila watched his lips descend and met his shining brown eyes with hers. She could have turned him into a braying jackass for being more forward than she’d have preferred,but the knowledge that Dagmar might just be watching was enough to have her meeting Sven’s lips with her own. The kiss was soft and quick, a proper thank you, if she was any judge. “I hope you’ll allow me to take you on a walk again, when you have a moment.”

  “I appreciate that, Sven,” Aila smiled. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

  “Sounds good.”

  ***

  Dagmar watched Aila walk toward the food tent with Sven by her side. He’d seen her lift her face to his and had seen the kiss they shared. It was about as passionate as a turnip. He could have attributed it to the fact that they were in public, but Dagmar had a feeling that the two of them were either sending mixed signals, or one of them wasn’t as interested as the other.

  “How was the walk?” he asked when he saw Aila in the leaders circle later, alone.

  “It was nice, quiet, beautiful. I haven’t been to that part of the lands in a long time.”

  “How was Sven?”

  “He was good company, easy to talk to.”

  “You mean you two didn’t… never mind.”

  “Not everyone needs to be intimate to enjoy each other’s company, Dagmar.”

  “Why else would you go walking with him if you weren’t going to—you know.”

  “Because I like getting to know someone. I, especially if I enjoy their company, want to know the person before I ever think about doing that.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re a God just because you haven’t slept with as many men as I have women.”

  “Not even close,” Aila said, stepping away and leaving Dagmar to his own devices. “Welcome everyone. Thanks to Dagmar and his hunting party, we not only have red deer for tonight’s supper, we also have enough to last at least the winter. Also if you’re in need of any new garment, please let Dragna or myself know. The pelts won’t last forever, so first come, first served.”

  At the mention of new pelts, the whispering started. One couple talked about a small blanket for their soon-to-be-born baby. Another mother mentioned a tunic for her son who had severely outgrown his last one during the past summer.

  “Let me also say this,” Dagmar spoke up, stepping up next to Aila. “If you have a good tunic or pair of boots that can be passed down to someone else, please bring them to Dragna. We will make use of what we have first, before anything new is taken up.”

  Everyone seemed to agree that it was a good plan to not waste what had already been made and so people mingled as food was served. “That was a really good idea,” Aila said. Knowing compliments didn’t fall easily from her tongue, Dagmar grinned.

  “I do have them from time to time, you know.”

  “I do know. Once in a while.”

  “You never let up, do you?”

  “Neither of us do. It’s part of the reason we’re at each other all the time.”

  Grabbing her hand, Dagmar pulled Aila outside, where they could talk in peace. “I have it on good authority that the village thinks we should join together and rule Hail as one unit.”

  “Good authority, huh?” Aila laughed. “Please, tell me whose authority.”

  “Look, Aila,” Dagmar sighed. “We both know that if we don’t do something, we’re going to end up splitting into two villages. We also know that surviving that way is nearly impossible.”

  “So, let me rule our people,” Aila concluded, stubbornly. Her face was so set, he was half afraid she’d turned herself into stone.

  “Not a chance,” Dagmar said with a shake of his head. “Not alone.”

  “Why not?” Aila demanded. “I’m capable.”

  “Oh honey, you’re more than capable. The people who want me to rule, however, will never accept the leadership of a woman.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Don’t give me that look, Aila. You know damn well you can’t do this by yourself.”

  “But you can?”

  “Whether or not I can has nothing to do with you. It’s just a matter of who’s best suited to do this. We both know that it’s me.”

  “Over my dead body,” Aila said, storming off. Dagmar went after her, easily pulling her into his tent.

  “Look. It doesn’t have to be this power struggle between us. What happened to the Aila who worked with me? The girl who fed me information and helped me out?”

&nbs
p; “She grew up,” Aila said, her green eyes shining. “To realize that her best friend was a man she no longer trusted.”

  “Aila—” Dagmar started.

  “Spare me, Dagmar.”

  “Now wait just a cursed minute,” Dagmar said, his temper shoving him forward. His hand gripped her arm, pulling her back against him. Her bright green eyes fired, making him grin before he did the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Dagmar Stalson, son of the elder Strad Stalson, claimed Aila’s mouth for his own. Heat permeated everywhere as his lips roamed over hers. He had a moment to think that she was stiff as a board before her powers sent a ripple of electrical current through him, sufficiently stealing his breath.

  “Bloody awful!” Dagmar moaned, doubling over in pain. “It was just a kiss, Aila. It’s not like you haven’t ever been kissed before.”

  Before he could get his bearings, Aila turned and walked regally out of his tent.

  ***

  Aila sought the solace and isolation of her own quarters, her mind and heart much too muddled for company. Only when she was inside with the flap closed, did she allow herself to touch her lips. They still tingled from the pressure of Dagmar’s lips. Oh, she’d been kissed alright, of that Dagmar was right. But he couldn’t know that she’d been waiting nearly her entire life to be kissed like that, to be kissed by him.

  The fact that it’d taken him so long to get around to it made her want to grin. Leave it to Dagmar to kiss her at a moment when she wasn’t prepared to blow it off as if it didn’t mean anything. The last thing she’d do was let him see her weak when it came to her own needs. She wouldn’t give him anything to hold over her head. Being a woman was bad enough. She wouldn’t be able to go on if he humiliated her as well.

  Aila fell asleep easily that night. The excitement over the large red deer hunt and the success that Dagmar and his party had made was overwhelming in most respects. Aila was starting to blur the lines between what her head and heart wanted. Logically she knew she should rule the Pict people, but the only man who stood in her way was also the only one her heart had ever really loved.

  She dreamed that night and in the dream, Dagmar wasn’t in her way, but rather stood at her side. His strong, wiry body was painted for war. His long, lean muscles rippled with anticipation. “When?” she asked, her hand touching his arm.

  “Tomorrow at the latest,” he said. Turning to her, his blue eyes held an emotion she’d never dared to hope to see. “Aila, I’ve spent my adult life hoping to rule our people, fighting with you over ruling them and hoping that somehow you’d come to feel about me the way I feel about you.”

  “You can’t stand me,” Aila chuckled.

  “No. I just made you think I couldn’t stand you. How could I rule our people if I couldn’t even shrug off what we had?”

  “So you pretended to all but hate me just to save face? What sort of coward are you?”

  “The worst kind. Instead of just coming out and telling you how I felt, I hid behind fake dislike.”

  “So now what do we do?” Aila asked, noting the sunset and wondering how long it’d be before they would fight for their land.

  “We go to war,” Dagmar said. “Then I guess we’ll figure everything else out.”

  Waking from her dream, Aila watched the coming sunrise spread its pretty pinks and purples across the sky. She tossed back her bearskin blankets and hurriedly dressed in her tunic and leggings to ward off the bitter cold. Winter had plunged their village into a bone-chilling cold that easily zapped a person’s energy even when they were dressed warm. Hurrying toward the food tent, Aila found Dragna working on the morning’s meal. “Have you seen Dagmar?” Aila asked.

  “He was up early this morning,” Dragna smiled. “Said something about walking the long trail to see how everything was fairing. Much like you do yourself.”

  “Thanks.” Aila smiled. “If he returns, will you tell him I’m looking for him?”

  “Sure, honey,” Dragna said, adding her own smile.

  ***

  Dagmar found Aila in the clearing he’d been in with Brenda when she’d interrupted them. “Hey,” he said, coming over to her.

  “Hi,” Aila said. Her nerves were apparent from the start, an unusual thing for Dagmar to witness.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I think so,” she returned. “I had a dream and wanted to know what you thought about it.”

  “Okay,” Dagmar said, sitting down by her.

  “In the dream you were painted, as we do when war is coming. When I asked you how long we had you couldn’t even give us an entire day.”

  “That would make sense, I guess.”

  “That’s not the only thing. You and I, we’ve been standing in each other’s way for as long as we’ve needed a ruler. You feel that you have a right to the throne and I know I do, considering my family founded the Pict land when we arrived.

  “What I noticed in the dream was that, we worked together. No more fighting each other, no more useless bickering.”

  “That sounds great,” Dagmar smiled. He reached out and took Aila’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  “There’s more,” Aila sighed. “In the dream I acused you of hating me and you said that you only wanted me to think that because it would have ruined your reputation if you’d conceded the throne to me.”

  “Sounds like some idiotic thing I’d say,” Dagmar chuckled. “Aila, I don’t claim to know all the meanings in your dream, but I do want to settle this between us. There’s no reason we can’t be friends, maybe even something more.”

  “You mean you don’t hate me?”

  “Why would I hate you? Yes, I get extremely irritated with you and your insistence on ruling our people, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. On the contrary I’ve always had a very special place in my heart for you.”

  “Seriously?” Aila asked, her green eyes disbelieving.

  “Yes,” Dagmar chuckled. “Seriously.” Seeing that he’d have to show her, Dagmar pulled her closer, laughing when she tried to get away. “Not this time, Aila.”

  “Dagmar, I—“

  Dagmar cut her off, pressing his lips to hers. Gentleness gave way to a need he hadn’t felt in a long time. Sliding a hand against her cheek, Dagmar cradled her head. She trembled beneath his, unleashing a torrent of feeling he hadn’t expected. “Aila.”

  “Dagmar, I’m not… I can’t do this.”

  “Is there something wrong with me in your eyes?”

  “No,” she said, those green eyes unreadable. “I just… I don’t think you feel for me what I’d wish from someone who wanted me.”

  “You mean you want me to love you?”

  “Well that’d be an ideal situation, yes, but I’d at least like the man who initiates me to like me on some mutually understood level.”

  “Initiates…you mean you’ve never—?,” Dagmar was dumfounded. How had Aila, who was easily the most beautiful woman in their village, gone without sex? “Aila, why did you let me berate you about sex all this time if you’ve never experienced it?”

  “And what would that have done? It would only have provided fuel for you to continue teasing me.”

  Dagmar had never felt lower than he did in that moment. Here was a stunningly gorgeous woman who wanted nothing more than for them to get along. He’d done nothing but everything in his power to make her hate him.

  “Aila, I have never been good at serious conversation. Even when we were children, whenever anything got serious I just stopped talking. Even you knew when I was approachable and when I wasn’t. I’m afraid that didn’t change much as I grew up.”

  “No,” she smiled. “It hasn’t.”

  “I may not have consciously wanted you to hate me, but I did everything in my power to ensure you did. You were right. Are right. I realize now that instead of showing thankfulness for your friendship, I took it for granted. I assumed you’d always be there. I find myself humbled that you’d stick by me despite the poor way I treated you
.”

  “I forgive you, Dagmar. I can’t say that we won’t argue in the future, but I’d sure appreciate being able to work with you instead of trying to figure out how to defend against you.”

  “Good,” Dagmar smiled.

  “Don’t look at me like that!” Aila squealed. Dagmar caught her easily by the waist, swinging her around as she tried to get past him.

  “You can never best me physically, Aila,” he laughed. Nuzzling her neck, Dagmar reached up to cup her breasts. He whispered against her ear, “I find myself incredibly aroused by you. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to keep my hands off of you?”

  “Dagmar,” Aila breathed. “I don’t know how…”

  Silencing her with his mouth, Dagmar smiled. “All you have to do is trust that I won’t hurt you. Can you do that?”

  “I don’t know,” she breathed.

  Chapter Three: Lessons

  Aila looked into blue eyes she’d known nearly forever, eyes she been in love with just as long. But Dagmar had asked a good question. Could she trust him not to hurt her? Physically it was a no-brainer. Dagmar could scrap with the best of Pictland, but he’d never raise a hand to a woman. Emotionally, though, that was the real kicker. She had no doubt that, given the right circumstances, he’d not only hurt her emotionally, he’d likely crush her.

  “I want to know what it is you’re offering Dagmar.” Aila smiled, resting her hand against his newly clean-shaven cheek. “I trust you to show me what I’m missing. I don’t know yet if I can trust you not to hurt me. I know you’d never do it intentionally, but I can’t say I believe you’d never do it at all.”

  “Then let’s take tonight, just right now,” Dagmar offered. Aila grinned at his beautiful blue eyes that implored her to take this leap of faith. Rising on her toes she brought her mouth within a whisper of his and said, “Okay.”