A Highland Wolf Christmas

by Terry Spear

  He sighed and helped carry her bags up to her guest chamber, then headed downstairs with the rest of the men to eat dinner.

  “Told you so,” Cearnach said as he and Guthrie descended the stairs behind the other men.

  “About…?” Guthrie said, elongating the word, not sure what sage advice his brother had given him this time.

  “That I wasn’t interested in mating Calla. That we were just good friends.”

  “Aye, so you were.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” Guthrie asked, annoyed. He wasn’t a mind reader.

  “Come on, Brother. She’s free, but she won’t be forever. Court her.”

  Guthrie said, “You know what happened the last time I dated a woman who was just getting over a breakup.”

  “Aye. But Calla’s different.”

  “Right. She needs protection from the bastard. But what if she changes her mind? Women are known to do that. You had a devil of a time getting her to see his true face. She was completely hung up on the guy. What if we started to court each other, and lo and behold, she decides Baird wasn’t so bad after all.”

  “She’s over him. It’s over between them. Finished. Through,” Cearnach assured him.

  “That’s what Tenell told me. You know how well that ended.”

  Cearnach shook his head as they made their way to the great hall where the conversation was already a dull roar. Chairs scraped across the stone floor while people took their seats. “Tenell was extremely needy. She wanted both the emotional and physical support you offered her at the time. And I believe she was using you, to an extent.”

  Guthrie had realized that also, but too late.

  “She wanted to prove to her old boyfriend that she had what it took to get another wolf interested in her. So you were convenient.”

  Okay, so Cearnach wasn’t mincing words now. Guthrie hated to admit his brother was right.

  “She was biding her time. Once she learned that her boyfriend had dumped the woman he’d been seeing on the side when he and Tenell had been courting, Tenell went back to him. Good riddance. Calla isn’t like that.”

  So Cearnach said.

  The other stumbling block was Guthrie’s proclivity for making money and saving it. Rather than spending money frivolously, he’d always been concerned about saving for a wintry day. In 1779, when he was a lad, Elaine’s pirate uncles had stolen a ship full of merchandise belonging to the MacNeills. The clan had to scrimp to make it through the harsh winter with very little to eat, an experience Guthrie had not forgotten.

  Calla was in the business of making money off people’s wasteful spending habits. Guthrie had a hard time seeing that what she did for a living was good for anyone’s pocketbook. That was all well and good for other people—it wasn’t his concern if they wanted to throw away their hard-earned money. But now that she was here to put on a lavish Christmas celebration for the MacNeills, it was more personal—since he handled the clan finances and she intended to spend them.

  “Give it a chance, Guthrie,” Cearnach said, smiling at him. “You never know where it might lead. Don’t wait. I doubt the lass will be free for very long before another wolf snatches her up.”

  If she was suffering from a case of rebound, that wouldn’t be a good scenario for either her or the new guy she hooked up with.

  They both surveyed the great hall and spied Calla sitting at the end of a table. Their redheaded cousin, Oran, was sitting next to her, smiling and talking with his hands, looking like he was already putting the moves on her.

  Cearnach shook his head. “Got to move on this one, Brother. She’s worth it.” Then he headed for the main table and his wife, Elaine, who was already seated.

  Guthrie had no intention of observing the lassie as he took his new seat next to his younger brother, Duncan, and his mate, Shelley.

  “Oran’s already going after her,” Duncan teased him.

  Guthrie drank his mug of beer and fully intended to change the subject. He was opening his mouth to speak about the weather, or about anything that had nothing to do with Calla, when Duncan said, “You know Oran’s only pulling your leg, don’t you?”

  “What?” Guthrie said frowning.

  “He likes the lass, aye. But he knows she’s interested in you.”

  “Duncan…” Guthrie said, so exasperated that his brother smiled at him.

  “Julia moved her into the guest chamber close to yours so if our ghostly cousin Flynn hassles her, you can rescue her. The scenario worked wonders for Cearnach and Elaine. You know how Flynn is. I am still hopeful that he will outgrow the rakish ways that led to his death centuries ago.”

  “I doubt Flynn will ever change. Though he doesn’t bother her. At least he hasn’t in the past. I have no idea why he disturbs some of the lassies and not others. He’s left her well enough alone whenever she’s visited.”

  “Aye, well, for any other reason, then.” Duncan buttered a slice of bread. “Ian asked me to go on her guard detail tomorrow night.”

  “Where is she going?”

  “A clan reunion she’s set up. But I had already promised Shelley I’d help her with some Christmas shopping. Would you mind going in my place?”

  “Christmas shopping?” Guthrie couldn’t believe it. Duncan was the warrior of the bunch, always ready for a battle. Shopping was not one of Duncan’s favorite pastimes. To give up guarding Calla to go Christmas shopping with his mate? Guthrie suspected it had more to do with Duncan giving Guthrie a chance to protect Calla instead. What better way to prove a wolf’s interest than in offering his protection? He shook his head. “I’ve…”

  “Good. I already talked to Ian about the schedule changes, and you’re in charge of the detail. Shelley’s uncles Ethan and Jasper will accompany you. Their brother, Teague, is busy with the cattle.”

  Guthrie frowned at Duncan. He was going to say he would have to check his schedule. Wolf packs typically homeschooled kids of their kind, and a large pack like the MacNeills’ was no different. Their method of homeschooling was having the individuals with the most knowledge of a subject provide training for the kids in that area of expertise. The lupus garou children didn’t usually attend a human-run public or private school—too much of a risk if a child became angry, lost his head, and showed off his fully wolfish side.

  Guthrie was responsible for the math curriculum, and sometimes he tutored students at night. He was giving a couple of final classes this week before they took Christmas break, but he didn’t think he had any night sessions scheduled.

  But why did Duncan know about this outing before Guthrie? A pecking order existed among the brothers. He was older than Duncan by five minutes. He should have been told first.

  He glanced over at Calla, who was laughing at something Oran said. She was so animated, always cheerful. Although, when they’d found her in the woods trying to hold her own against Baird and his kin, he’d smelled a mixture of anxiousness and anger rolling off her in waves for the first time since he’d known her. She probably had smelled the same on him. He couldn’t help but admire how she’d stood her ground.

  Yet, wasn’t that the way Tenell had acted? Like she wanted nothing further to do with her old boyfriend—and then the next thing Guthrie knew, he was no longer courting a she-wolf.

  When Tenell had broken up with her ex-boyfriend a second time, Guthrie had stayed clear of her, despite her calling to make it up to him. She was still trying to reach him through his kin, which amused them. No one had any intention of encouraging him to go back to her.

  Calla’s pretty strawberry blond hair curled about her shoulders, looking as soft as her blue sweater. Her green eyes suddenly glanced in his direction as if her wolf half had realized someone was watching her. He would not look away. It was an alpha lupus garou’s way of showing interest. Because he was interested. She smiled at him, and then Oran glanced his way.

  Guthrie bowed his head a little to her, and only then did he look away. Was she like Tenell? Emotionally
and physically feeling a void that she needed filled with another man—and any wolf would do?

  He let out his breath. There wasn’t any way he wanted to go through that again. Especially not if she went back to Baird.

  ***

  Calla was so glad the MacNeills had come to help her out with Baird and his pack mates. She did not really want to be “guarded” anytime she left Argent Castle, but otherwise she was looking forward to seeing what pack life was like here. She loved how everyone was a wolf. That meant she didn’t have to guard against saying anything pertaining to wolves that only her own kind could understand.

  She glanced again at Guthrie as he talked to Duncan. Even though he was the financial advisor for the pack, he was in as good shape for fighting as the rest of his brothers. His green eyes were lighter than hers, his reddish hair more brown. His coloration appealed to her. Being a redhead herself, redheads often caught her eye. To her chagrin, Duncan turned to see her observing Guthrie. Duncan winked, the devil, and that had Guthrie turning to see who he’d winked at.

  She quickly cut up another slice of pork. That would teach her to ogle Guthrie while others were watching. She sighed. After what she’d done at the hen party—when she’d been perfectly innocent—she supposed everyone would watch the two of them while she was staying here. It was like olden times when courtiers gossiped about trysts between other members of the court. Especially since she was someone new to gossip about.

  Oran was regaling her with all his fishing mishaps with Guthrie and Duncan when they were lads. He finished his pork and said to her, “Once, Guthrie got so excited about catching his first trout that he tipped the boat and we all ended up in the icy river. Duncan was ready to punch him. But in a good-hearted way. We had a devil of a time catching up with the boat. That was the end of that fishing trip.”

  She hadn’t asked Oran to share everything about his life, although she did find it entertaining. But if Oran was interested in her, why did he say so much about Guthrie in all the humorous incidents he brought up? Surely, Oran could have shared stories that didn’t include him.

  “So then there was this time that we decided to reach the tree in the center of the pastureland, where one of our bulls was penned.”

  “Nay,” she said, tilting her chin down, not believing the lads could have been that reckless.

  “Aye. You know, lass, if we didn’t have a clan battle to win, we had to do something with our time.”

  “Cearnach didn’t go with you, did he?”

  “Aye, he did. Ian didn’t. He was always running things at the castle, even when he was sixteen. Guthrie said it would be a good way to keep up our physical training. And we were all for it.”

  “Guthrie did?” She thought that if Cearnach had gone with them, it had been his idea, since he was always in charge when Ian wasn’t around.

  “Aye, lass. Don’t believe for a minute that all Guthrie does is calculate profits and expenses. He’s a wild wolf, that one.”

  She smiled at that. He always seemed the quietest of the brothers. Maybe he’d had his wild fun in his youth, learned a thing or two from his experiences, and changed his ways. She wondered what he’d think if he knew Oran was telling all about him. She was glad she had no one here to tell on her.

  ***

  Early the next morning, Ian and his kin still weren’t able to move Calla’s car because of the snowdrift. Calla just hoped that Baird and his men couldn’t move her car, either.

  The fir trees were still covered in the soft, wet flakes, and the rising sun peered through the white clouds, coloring everything soft shades of yellow and pink. Calla was invited to join the fun of a snowman-building contest before the snow melted too much.

  Bundled in coats, scarves, hats, and gloves, pack kids and adults alike were busy building snowmen in the parklike setting beyond the castle walls. Some of their Irish wolfhounds were playing in the snow too, biting at it, rolling in it, and acting as though they’d never seen the stuff before.

  Ian and Duncan were constructing a snowman with their mates, when Cearnach stole their head for his, Elaine’s, and Guthrie’s creation. Getting the biggest kick out of it, Calla watched along with everyone else as Cearnach raced back to Guthrie and Elaine with the snowman’s head in his gloved hands.

  “Hurry, Cearnach!” Elaine and Guthrie cheered.

  “Stop him, Ian!” Julia threw the first snowball at Cearnach in lighthearted retaliation, smacking him in the back. Everyone was laughing.

  Ian pelted Cearnach with the next snowball, shouting, “That was only practice. The next head will be even better.”

  Calla had been helping Logan, the teen who took care of the dogs, and some of the other teens, to make a snowman, but with snowy missiles coming from all directions, the snowmen were forgotten. From the youngest to the oldest clan member, the battle was on.

  As good-natured as both Ian and Cearnach were as the male leaders of the pack, they were bombarded the most. Julia was the female leader of the pack, but Calla noticed that nobody targeted her, probably not wanting to earn Ian’s wrath if anyone accidentally hurt her.

  Barking, the dogs chased after the flying balls of snow.

  Calla hadn’t ever participated in anything like this with a wolf pack, and she couldn’t stop laughing. Her stomach hurt as she gathered up more snow.

  She formed a nice-sized ball and threw it at Cearnach. When he moved out of her path, her snowball smacked Guthrie in the forehead. He had been standing nearby, ready to pelt his brother with one. Guthrie turned to see who his attacker was. And smiled when he caught her eye.

  He had the most devilishly wolfish look about him—a mixture of impending payback with a snowball and something a wee bit more intimate, like a tackle in the snow. But he wouldn’t. Not in front of his clansmen. Not when they weren’t courting. At least, she hoped not.

  Cearnach was about to pelt him, but then turned to see what had stolen Guthrie’s attention. She felt like her suddenly heated body would melt all the snow surrounding her, and she quickly bent to serve up another snowball. As soon as she threw it at Cearnach again, Julia got in the way and the ball of snow splatted against her back.

  She turned to see who had targeted her and found Calla grinning. “I was aiming at Cearnach,” Calla shouted over the laughs and squeals and threats of retaliation all around her.

  “I’m not buying it!” Julia called back, and quickly readied her own ammunition.

  Calla had never had so much fun in her life.

  Guthrie was getting strong wolf vibes that Calla was interested in him. He felt the same way about her. His wolfish urges encouraged him to chase after her and tackle her—to get her back for socking him with the snowball, just for fun. If they’d been alone, he would have. He could tell from the way she was watching him that she knew just what he had in mind. Her mouth had curved up a hair, her cheeks turning rosy.

  Guthrie’s gaze had strayed to her a few times. He told himself it was because she was a guest, and he was ensuring that she was having a good time and not feeling left out. He’d never seen her this way—letting her hair down, so to speak—playing with other pack members and acting as though she were just one of the family.

  She’d lived away from packs most of her life, so he’d been curious how she’d fit in. He and his brothers and Julia had been concerned that she might fold under Baird’s persistence in attempting to get her back. They’d all shared the consensus that she needed to be with a pack that showed her a more supportive and loving family of lupus garous, unlike what the McKinley pack could offer her.

  Even so, Guthrie was dying to get her back for that snowball. But not in front of everyone here. Sure, they were all busy playing in the snow, but still, everyone was watching out for her. Seeing to her needs. Ensuring she felt as though she belonged. He was certain that if he targeted her, and she got him back, everyone would think there was more to it than just playing.

  He smiled at her as Julia threw a snowball at Calla that missed
her by a mile. Grinning, Calla quickly armed herself and threw one at Julia; only it missed her too and hit Guthrie in the crotch. Good thing it was soft snow. He grinned and wiped off the snow, slowly, deliberately, wolfishly.

  Calla looked like she could burst into flames, she was so red faced. He started laughing.

  A half hour later, Ian called a truce so they could finish the snowmen and head inside. A few knit caps were placed on top of the snowmen, and some sticks added for arms. A couple wore plaid scarves, and one of the girls brought out a couple handfuls of carrots from the kitchen to use as noses for several of them. Buttons and stones were added to create all kinds of faces—surprised, smiling, downturned—and then it was time to eat the noon meal.

  Guthrie loved this time of year. Everyone was excited—the kids, the adults, even the wolfhounds. The pack gathering to do fun activities in the snow, the decorating and preparing special meals, made it truly an extraordinary time.

  Everyone quickly put away their damp cold-weather gear and gathered in the great hall.

  Guthrie started walking toward his usual seat when this many pack members ate together. Ian and Cearnach and their mates sat at the head table with Aunt Agnes, Lady Mae, and Shelley’s uncle Ethan. Guthrie had begun sitting at one of the lower tables. Duncan and his mate, Shelley, were likewise sitting at a lower table now, so that they could be together. One big, happy family.

  Guthrie glanced around to see where Calla was and found that Logan was sitting next to her. He was chatting away to her—Guthrie figured about the dogs—but he also noticed that the seat on her other side was suspiciously vacant.

  He talked to several others as they made their way to their tables. He headed to the spot where he normally sat, next to Duncan, but he realized the seat to his brother’s left had been taken. Oran, who normally sat nearer the door, was filling it now.

  Guthrie shouldn’t have cared, but it was unsettling to be bumped from his seat once again. He hated to admit how at home he felt in a particular place, and then how uncomfortable when he had to move. He glanced around and noticed that nearly all the seats were taken on this side of the great hall. He didn’t want to be the last person seated, as Cook and her assistants were already bringing the trout served on toasted bread to the high table. He spied a spot but discounted it, realizing that one of the family’s pairs of twin girls was short a twin, and sure enough, she dashed by him to get to her saved seat.