by Terry Spear
Guthrie snorted.
She scowled at him. “He’d been great to me. We hiked, boated, ran as wolves, and swam—it didn’t matter what I wanted to do, he always took me.”
“He didn’t let you go with anyone else, did he? He tried to stop you from seeing Cearnach.”
“He thought Cearnach was an old boyfriend. Baird said he wasn’t comfortable with me seeing him. I told him we were just friends. Baird said others in his pack didn’t see it that way. He was having a hard time believing it too.”
Guthrie snorted again.
Looking crossly at Guthrie—which he thought made her appear wolfishly cute, though he was sure she wasn’t going for that look—she folded her arms.
Guthrie rose to his full height. “So when Cearnach learned of it, he tried to change your mind because he didn’t think Baird was a good match or the person you thought he was.”
Calla looked out at the dark gardens. “Aye. Oh, I knew Baird could be controlling, and not just about me not seeing Cearnach. He didn’t like it when I had work to do and he felt that I should be with him instead. But I thought if he cared enough about me, he’d change.”
“Even at your wedding, he proved otherwise when he had his brothers force Cearnach to leave. It didn’t matter that you wanted Cearnach there because he was your friend. Baird had to prove he was in charge and you had no say in the matter.”
Calla didn’t say anything. Guthrie was afraid he’d upset her too much, and she wouldn’t say anything more about the matter. They had to know—had Baird only targeted her because she was friends with Cearnach? Had he met up with her on purpose because of a darker intent, or was it just a coincidence? Guthrie didn’t believe it was.
“So, you had the whirlwind courtship with him and then…?”
“You’ve got to realize I’d been living among humans for years. It was refreshing to see members of a wolf pack working together and know that the leader, Baird, was fascinated with me. Cearnach remained a good friend, but we weren’t interested in each other in that way. Oh, sure, Baird has his faults, but who doesn’t? None of us are perfect. I just assumed that as much as he cared for me, I could live with it.”
Guthrie let out his breath. “You don’t need to put up with the kind of faults Baird has. The control issues. His constant badgering. His being so manipulative.”
Her eyes flickered a bit. “All right, aye. He tended not to care if others got hurt if he got what he wanted. But I didn’t see this until the wedding.”
“What about your business? Would he have left well enough alone?” Guthrie couldn’t see that he would. He suspected Baird would have controlled her business, determining who she saw while she was setting up her engagements, micromanaging her during the activities, and maybe even taking it over so she was working for him. Or maybe even making her quit.
“I told him I wasn’t about to give up my business or the way I handled things.”
“And?”
She let out her breath in a huff. “He knew where I stood on it. I wouldn’t have consented to marrying him otherwise.”
“But you suspected otherwise, didn’t you?”
“We were getting married. He kept asking me about my finances, my expenses, all about my engagements. But I figured it was because he was interested. That’s all. But I have to know. Why do Cearnach and Baird dislike each other? Cearnach would never tell me. He’d just say Baird wouldn’t be right for me.”
“Do you remember back in 1779 when Cearnach and the rest of us went to the port city of St. Andrews on a buying trip, right before you and your family moved out of the area?”
“Aye. Cearnach promised to buy me hair ribbons.”
“See why we thought the two of you were sweet on each other? We learned that the Hawthorn brothers were being hanged at the behest of Lord Whittington, who claimed they had stolen a couple of his merchant ships and murdered some of his men during the battle. We wanted to know if the Hawthorn brothers had any of our merchandise on board that they had stolen from us the previous year—then we saw Elaine.”
“The hanged men were Elaine’s uncles,” Calla whispered.
“Aye. And you recall that we chased after Elaine, though at the time we didn’t know her name. Cearnach had been the closest to reaching her when we became embroiled in a fight with men on the street. We discovered later that Baird and his brothers and their cousin were responsible for delaying us. Cearnach lost his hold on her, and she disappeared.”
“I remember seeing Cearnach after that. He wouldn’t talk about it. He felt something for her, more than just wanting to protect her. I knew it with all my heart. I felt terrible for him, but he didn’t wish to speak of it,” Calla said.
“Aye. He searched and searched for her. But he never could locate her, and then he discovered she’d returned to America, and he assumed she was safe back at home.”
“But she wasn’t.”
“Nay.”
“So…that was the only reason he was angry with Baird? That he and his kin had started a fight and stopped Cearnach from reaching Elaine?” Calla asked.
“Part of it. Some of it was that the McKinleys were vigorously searching to take her into their clan, and whatever their purposes, it wouldn’t have been for good. To learn where the stolen treasure was hidden. To force her mating with one of the clansmen to gain her parents’ properties. They were all pirates. The whole family. Cearnach later learned that Baird was the one who instigated the whole thing back then. Baird was the one who learned her uncles were there, reported them to the lord, and set a trap for them. Then Baird and his kin went after Elaine. Baird was just as angry that my brothers and I were trying to locate her to keep her safe—from the likes of them.”
“Like Cearnach tried to protect me from Baird.”
Guthrie nodded.
“Except with me, as far as Baird was concerned, it had nothing to do with pirating.”
“Aye, which is why Cearnach would never have mentioned that specific instance to you. You left shortly after that to live in England with your parents, and when you moved back to the area to return to your roots here a year ago, Baird’s interest in you would have been for other reasons anyway. Cearnach didn’t suppose his mentioning what had happened so long ago would influence you one way or another. You have to admit you stubbornly refused to listen to all his other talks.”
She took a deep breath. “Aye. He did tell me about their pirating ways, but that was so long ago, and Baird had been into legitimate businesses for a couple of hundred years or so. I…I’m not sure if what he did to Elaine’s uncles would have swayed me for certain, since they also had been pirates, and that was sometimes how their pirating way of life ended. But…Cearnach should have told me. It might have influenced me.”
“Aye, lass. I agree.” He wished he knew how to stop Baird from pestering her without it coming to a fatal showdown. Guthrie fetched more paper towels and wet them to finish cleaning up the spilled milk so they could return to bed. He knelt down and began to wipe off the milk that had splattered Calla’s robe.
Calla instantly grew flustered. Already his kin were talking behind their backs as if the two of them were courting. If anyone caught them together like this…
That’s when she heard footfalls. She thought Guthrie would immediately stop washing the splotches of milk on her robe. He didn’t. When Duncan walked in and saw Guthrie on his knees at Calla’s feet, she knew her face had to be rose red, as hot as it felt. “I dropped a glass of milk,” she quickly said, noticing Duncan was dressed the same as Guthrie, only his boxers were navy blue. “Don’t come any closer. Your feet are bare. You might get cut.”
Duncan looked pointedly at Guthrie’s bare feet.
“He wouldn’t listen to me and apparently likes to live dangerously,” she said, annoyed. She glanced down at Guthrie, still wiping off her robe, and she was certain she didn’t have one more spot of milk left on the fabric. “Didn’t you get it off already?”
“Turn around
and I’ll check the back.”
Now she knew she had to be flaming red all over. “That’s okay—”
“You don’t want the milk spots to sour,” Guthrie said, sounding determined to humiliate her further in front of his brother.
“I’ll…come back later,” Duncan said, and he quickly left.
She swore he was stifling a laugh. “Guthrie,” she said, exasperated, but he put his hands on her hips and turned her so he could wipe off the rest of her milk splatters.
She had dropped the whole eight-ounce glass of milk, but surely she didn’t get that much on the back side of her robe. His strokes were way too intimate, not just a rough brush-down of the fabric to soak up the milk. And they were way too high, to her way of thinking.
Before she could object, he bent down to wipe off her slippers.
Then he continued to mop up the floor. “I have important business to take care of tomorrow, and whoever Ian sends to watch over you will be perfectly competent, even if the toga wearers are bearing spears,” Guthrie said as if he hadn’t just completely embarrassed her.
When they were done, Guthrie poured both of them a fresh glass of milk. “Is anything else bothering you? The accommodations are all right? The bed is comfortable enough? The room’s sufficiently warm?”
“Aye.”
“You were just thirsty?”
She smiled a little, then drank some of her milk. “And you?”
“I thought we might have a prowler in the castle, and I came down to tackle him.”
She chuckled. “Right.” Then feeling like a mother hen, she said, “Turn around and show me the bottoms of your feet.”
He smiled and shook his head, then showed her the sole of his right foot. She washed it with a wet paper towel.
“The other now,” Calla instructed.
He obliged. Before she finished, Julia walked into the kitchen, stared at the scene before her, and smiled. “Um, I’ll come back later.”
“Nay!” Calla said. “I broke a glass and Guthrie insisted on helping me clean it up. Even though he isn’t wearing shoes.”
“Ah,” Julia said, her eyes sparkling.
“Why in the world is everyone making a trip to the kitchen tonight?”
Guthrie only smiled.
Chapter 7
The next afternoon, after teaching the younger kids math all morning, Guthrie was called into Ian’s office, making him wonder what was up now. He’d really wanted to see how the Christmas party plans were going with Calla and Julia. Well, truth be told, he’d wanted to see Calla again.
He’d missed her at both meals—first, trying to get ready for his class, and at lunchtime, because he’d had a business lunch meeting in town. He hadn’t believed he’d have feelings like this about any lass so soon, he thought as he walked up to Ian’s office. Every time he heard her sweet voice anywhere nearby, he’d turn to see her. Every time someone mentioned her name, he instantly listened in on the conversation.
When he didn’t glimpse her sometime during the day, he wanted to know what she was doing—if she was fine with everything, or if she needed anything. He swore he’d never had such a one-track mind when it came to a woman. He attributed it to her being here, living at Argent Castle, unlike the other lassies he’d courted. If she was still living at her home, he wouldn’t be thinking about her constantly. Or so he thought.
He walked into Ian’s office, noting that his brother was reading a letter.
“Shut the door, will you, Guthrie?” Ian pushed aside a stack of papers on his desk.
If Ian hadn’t been concerned, he would have continued working and just talked at the same time, as he did when he was swamped with business and the conversation wasn’t all that important. Wolves did that—devoted all their attention to one source if they wanted to see, hear, and smell what was going on with another wolf. “Was Calla all right last night?”
Guthrie sat down and smiled. Had Julia told Ian that he’d been with Calla last night in the kitchen? Or…Duncan had. Hell, probably both had. “Aye, just a little spilt milk, but that was it.”
“Is there…anything I need to know? Like, do you want to be on permanent guard duty for Calla?”
“Over spilt milk? Nay.” Guthrie knew what his brother was getting at, but he had no intention of feeding his curiosity.
Ian considered him, knowing in his wolf’s way that Guthrie wasn’t being completely honest with him. “Calla said she had an impromptu kids’ party this morning that was just scheduled last week. And then she had to set up the decorations and do whatever else beforehand for the toga party. So I sent Duncan with some men.
“He was supposed to also go to the toga party. He had to rearrange his schedule so he could go to the other activities this morning. You were teaching the kids, so I didn’t want to ask you. But Duncan had plans to take his mate Christmas shopping. Can you handle the toga party instead?”
“He’s going Christmas shopping again?”
“I understand he and Shelley haven’t found everything they need.”
Guthrie couldn’t see his brother doing all that much shopping. “You really want me to go to another one of Calla’s parties after yesterday’s fiasco?” Guthrie asked, surprised.
“Aye.”
“I suppose you don’t want me to be armed this time.”
Ian smiled at him and leaned back against his leather chair. “Leave your swords in the vehicle. You can wear your sgian dubh in your sock beneath your trousers in case Baird or his kin show. Do you have any objection to going?”
“Nay, unless the lass doesn’t care for the idea. She may still believe I’d stir up too much trouble.” Guthrie didn’t like the idea that she might wear a toga herself. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t. She hadn’t worn a Stewart plaid to the Rankin reunion.
Ian chuckled. “Of any of our brothers, you are the least easily provoked. The fight at the reunion was not why I didn’t assign you to this job initially. I knew you had financial business to attend to, but then you resolved it at lunch today. I’ve already informed her that you’re heading her guard detail for the party. All right?”
“How did she take it?”
“She was fine with it.”
Guthrie eyed his brother, knowing that there was more to it than that. He finally said, “Aye.”
“You, Ethan, and Oran will go.”
“Was there any sign of Baird and his brothers or cousins following Calla to the party this morning?” Guthrie asked.
“Nay. But I’ve had Julia talk with her about it. I keep feeling there’s more to him stalking her than that he’s an alpha wolf who doesn’t like to lose.”
“That’s putting it lightly. Not only did Cearnach convince her not to marry Baird at the wedding, but she’s also now under our protection. And we tore into him and his brothers and cousins good the last time we had a confrontation with them. He’s more than a sore loser.”
“Aye, true. So keep a watchful eye out.”
Guthrie rose to leave.
“Are you going to participate in the Christmas decorating party that Julia’s scheduled for this afternoon?”
“If I can make it. I’ve got some other business to attend to.”
“All right. Well, it starts in an hour.”
Guthrie nodded and left the room. He had no intention of adding to the chaos of decorating the tree. Last year, he’d lost his balance when Cearnach bumped into him while untangling Christmas lights. Guthrie had stumbled onto a cardboard box of decorations, smashing the delicate glass ornaments to bits. He’d felt terrible, though his mother had just smiled at him and shaken her head.
***
Everyone participating in decorating the tree had gathered in the great hall. Calla was surprised to see a few of the men there. When she spent Christmas at home with her parents, her father would put on the star and hang the lights on the trees out front, but he never helped decorate the Christmas tree, because he thought that was the women’s job.
The traditiona
l wassail was being served. In olden times, the Scots would go wassailing by carrying a pewter bowl of hot, spicy, honeyed ale from door to door to share with their friends and family and wish them well. They offered well wishes for the crops, the herds, the trees, the bees, and even the sea for a good harvest. The MacNeill pack members made their wassail from apple cider and mulling spices and always drank it while decorating the tree.
Ian was good-heartedly “supervising” the affair as he commented on which ornaments should go where. Everyone was just as good-heartedly ignoring him while they placed the decorations on the tree exactly where they thought they should go.
Boxes of glass balls and other ornaments were stacked everywhere. Four ten-year-old girls were hanging unbreakable ornaments on the bottom branches. Cearnach and Duncan were stringing lights on the top branches. Everyone was talking about Christmases past and the future year. The little girls were talking about what they wanted for Christmas.
Guthrie was noticeably absent—the only one of the brothers not in attendance. Calla was dying to ask why he wasn’t there, but then everyone would believe she had a romantic interest in him, so she tried to concentrate on trimming the tree instead. All of its sides were visible from some part of the great hall so every section had to be properly dressed. The tree was mostly bare on her side, so Calla was having fun filling the branches.
She was getting ready to attach a figure of a longhorn steer wearing a Christmas hat, compliments of Shelley’s mother’s Texas collection—and thinking how fun it was to see decorations from the various newcomers to the pack—when she heard Guthrie shouting.
Deep, frustrated shouting. And cursing.
Claws scrambled on the stone floor, boots tromped at a run toward the great hall, and then disaster struck.
Women shrieked and shouted, but Calla was on the other side of the tree where she couldn’t see the commotion. But then she saw the twelve-foot tree toppling over—right toward her.
