Mystical Warrior (Midnight Bay)

by Janet Chapman

  Chapter Three

  Fiona’s renewed bravery lasted less than twenty minutes, however, before that all too familiar knot in her gut returned when the door opened and two men strode into the bookstore, the breadth of their shoulders spanning the aisle and effectively blocking her and Gabriella’s escape.

  The store owner, who had introduced herself as Ruthie, looked up from the magazine she was showing Gabriella. “Oh, hello, Johnnie,” the older woman said, her smile immediate. “And Jason. How’s your dad doing?”

  “We’re just heading over to Ellsworth to bust him out of the hospital,” the bearded man said, although his sharp dark eyes were focused on Fiona.

  Feeling like she couldn’t breathe, Fiona pretended to be interested in a magazine farther down the aisle. But when she tried pulling Gabriella with her, the girl gave her a frown and tugged free, apparently not the least bit alarmed that they were trapped.

  “That was quick,” Ruthie said in surprise. “Clive’s only been in the hospital for what, five days? He broke his leg in three places, and they’re already letting him come home?”

  The sharp-eyed bearded man, who was the older of the two and about Fiona’s age, gave a chuckle. “It’s more like they’re kicking him out—or, rather, kicking Mom out. Ever since Dad fell off the roof, she’s practically been living at the hospital, complaining that the nurses are doing everything wrong and that he’d heal faster if she could bring him home and get some real food into him.”

  Ruthie snorted. “Sonja’s just as opinionated at Grange meetings. Still, I’m glad Clive is—Jason, why is your jacket squirming?”

  Fiona tried leading Gabriella out of grabbing distance of the men, but the young girl tugged free again and actually stepped toward them. “What have you got in there?” she asked. “It sounds like an animal whimpering.”

  The man named Jason, who appeared three or four years older than Gabriella, slid down the zipper on his jacket as he walked closer, and a dark pink nose and yellow fluid eyes popped out in a tangle of frenzied legs and dust-colored fur.

  “Oh, a puppy!” Gabriella cried, reaching for it.

  The squirming pup gave an excited yelp as it vigorously strained to get to her. Nearly dropping it in the process, Jason lunged forward just as the puppy leapt into her arms. “Careful,” he said with a chuckle. “Or he’ll wash all those pretty freckles off your face if you let him.”

  Fiona stood frozen, so overwhelmed by feeling trapped that she couldn’t even rescue her friend when the young man’s large hand shot out to turn the pup’s eager tongue away from Gabriella’s face, as the girl had also gone perfectly still, her huge blue eyes locked on Jason as a blush crept into her freckled cheeks.

  Jason suddenly groaned, his own face darkening, and tried to take the puppy away from her. “Aw, hell, I think he just peed on your coat.”

  Gabriella hugged the puppy to her chest. “That’s okay, I don’t mind. My niece has a puppy that piddles on me all the time.” She finally looked down at the squirming bundle in her arms, and the puppy immediately started lapping her face, making Gabriella giggle as she fought to control it. “What’s his name?” she asked between licks as she looked up at Jason again.

  “He hasn’t got one, so we’ve just been calling him Pest,” Jason said. “Because you’re a great big pest, aren’t you, boy?” he added, rubbing the puppy’s head even though his gaze remained locked on Gabriella. “You want him? Mom said we have to find someone to take him before we bring Dad home from the hospital, because she’s afraid Pest will trip him up when he’s trying to walk with his crutches.”

  “And if we can’t find a home for him,” the older man said, “then we have to take him to the animal shelter in Ellsworth. Ruthie, didn’t I hear you were looking for a dog?”

  “I was,” Ruthie said, her expression growing distressed as she reached out and let the puppy lick her fingers. “But I adopted a couple of kittens instead, so I won’t have to rush home every night right after I close the store. Oh, Johnnie, you can’t just drop him off at the shelter! All those barking dogs will traumatize the poor thing, and he might catch one of those kennel diseases. Thelma Goodie got her dog there, and after paying a fortune in vet bills, she still ended up putting the poor thing to sleep.”

  “This one’s the only pup we haven’t been able to place,” Jason interjected. He shot Gabriella a smile. “He sure seems to like you. He’s got an impressive pedigree. His daddy is a three-time grand champion field hunter, and we drove all the way to Nova Scotia to get his mom five years ago, and she’s the best ocean duck dog in the area.” He nodded toward his brother. “Johnnie trained Maggie himself. We got nine hundred bucks each for his six litter mates, which is a steal for a Chesapeake Bay retriever with great bloodlines, but we could sell you this little guy for seven hundred.”

  “Oh, I would love to have him,” Gabriella said, lifting the pup to rub its fur on her cheek. “But where I’m living right now is bursting with people. I couldn’t possibly get a dog of my own until my brother’s house is finished being built and we move into it.” She suddenly thrust the pup into Fiona’s arms. “But you could take him. You have that whole apartment to yourself, and your landlord doesn’t have a dog.”

  “I … but …” Fiona couldn’t say anything because every time she opened her mouth, the puppy kept licking her. She was finally able to wrestle the quivering mass of muscle under control, and after darting a frantic glance at the two men, she grabbed Gabriella’s sleeve and dragged her farther down the aisle.

  “I can’t just bring home a dog without asking my landlord’s permission,” she quietly hissed. “What if he doesn’t like dogs and says no? Then what am I supposed to do with this little guy?”

  “But you said he’s never there,” Gabriella countered. “Heck, it would probably be months before he even realized you had a dog. Oh, Fiona, think of how much company he would be for you. And you’ll be able to take him for walks around town, and he’ll grow big and strong and protective. A dog is just what you need.”

  “Who’s your landlord?” Johnnie asked, making Fiona jump when she realized the two men had followed them down the aisle.

  “It’s Mr. Huntsman,” Gabriella answered for her. “Do you know him? Fiona is renting his upstairs apartment. His is the large yellow and sort of white house down by the ocean on the edge of the village, just a short walk from here.”

  “You live over Huntsman?” Johnnie asked in surprise, looking at Fiona. “Hell, I went to school with Trace, and I know for a fact that he likes dogs. I tell you what,” he said, reaching out and rubbing the puppy’s ear. “You take this little guy off our hands right now, and you can have him for six hundred.”

  Fiona couldn’t even speak, much less think; she could only picture the seven months she’d spent in hell the last time she hadn’t done something a man had asked her to do.

  “But you said you’re taking him to the shelter,” Gabriella interjected when Fiona didn’t respond. “So you should give him to my friend, and that way, you would know he’s going to a good home.”

  Johnnie Dempster continued looking directly at Fiona. “Five hundred,” he said quietly.

  “I’ll buy him from you!” she blurted out when Gabriella started to protest again. She immediately shifted the puppy to one arm, reached into her pocket and pulled out the small money purse Eve had given her, and thrust it toward him.

  But Gabriella snatched it out of her hand. “Three hundred,” the girl said.

  Fiona shot Gabriella a threatening glare and spoke to her in Gaelic. “You will not barter with this man,” she hissed. “I am naming the puppy Misneach, and to pay any less would demean my new pet.”

  “Misneach?” Gabriella repeated, slaughtering the word with her ancient Irish brogue. She suddenly smiled. “You’re naming the pup courage?” she asked in Gaelic.

  Speaking in her native tongue seemed to have a calming effect on Fiona—that is, until Johnnie Dempster said, “I have no idea what language
that is, but we really have to get going.” He shot Gabriella a frown and then looked at Fiona again, his direct stare somewhat menacing. “I heard that Barry Simpson at the Shop ’n Save across the street might be looking for a new duck dog, and that’s our next stop after we leave here. So I’m actually doing you a favor by offering him to you for five hundred, considering Barry would probably pay seven.”

  Fiona clutched Misneach to her chest. “I beg you, Gabriella,” she pleaded, once again in Gaelic, “give the man his five hundred dollars, and please let’s get out of here.” So I can run home and crawl into my cupboard and never, ever come into town again, she silently added.

  Gabriella lifted the flap on the wallet and pulled out the money inside. The girl painstakingly counted the paper bills out loud, until she reached five hundred dollars exactly—all the money Fiona had to her name.

  But if that was the price of getting out of the store without angering the men, so be it. She nudged Gabriella. “Pay him for the puppy,” she said, this time in English.

  Just as soon as Gabriella handed him the money, Fiona grabbed her friend’s arm, dragged her past the man named Jason, and headed for the door.

  Only Johnnie Dempster started following them. “How about if I bring his papers over to you this evening?” he asked, reaching around Fiona to open the door.

  She took a relieved breath when she stepped onto the sidewalk and saw all the people milling about. “What do you mean by papers?” she asked, feeling slightly more in control now that she was no longer trapped.

  “His kennel club papers,” Johnnie said, giving her a frown. “If you ever want to stud him out, you’re going to have to register him.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said, again pulling Gabriella closer when Jason came up beside her. For hadn’t she seen firsthand how men would separate their prey under the guise of being nice, just before they turned into brutes?

  “We’ll follow you ladies to the Shop ’n Save,” Jason said, “and show you what food the puppy should eat. You can also buy a collar and leash there.”

  Fiona didn’t want either of these men following them anywhere. “Misneach will eat what I do,” she said, wondering why they thought she would buy special food for a dog. She started walking in the direction of home. “And I saw a soft rope hanging in the barn, so I don’t need a collar or leash.”

  “Gabriella, you forgot your magazine!” Ruthie called out, waving it in the air as she stood on the sidewalk.

  Gabriella pulled Fiona to a stop. “Oh, I really want to buy that magazine,” she said. “Wait right here; I’ll only be a minute.”

  “You’re just going to tie a rope around his neck?” Johnnie Dempster asked, his expression incredulous.

  “And you can’t feed him people food,” Jason added, equally appalled. “It’ll make him puke.”

  “Not to mention turn him into a beggar,” Johnnie growled.

  Fiona bumped into a lamppost, as she’d slowly been inching away from them. “I’ve had several dogs before, and I’ve never fed them special food.” She glanced back toward the bookstore, wishing Gabriella would hurry.

  “Come on,” Johnnie said, making her bump into the post even harder when he suddenly plucked Misneach out of her arms. He shoved the dog at his brother. “You stay here and wait for Gabriella, and I’ll take—” He smiled at her. “Fiona, isn’t it? I’ll take Fiona across the street and help her pick up what she needs.”

  As desperately as she wanted to wait for Gabriella, Fiona didn’t dare resist when Johnnie took hold of her elbow and led her off the sidewalk, stopping only to look for traffic before guiding her across the street to the Shop ’n Save. But surely Gabriella was safe with Ruthie, and they were in the middle of town, after all, whereas she had been all alone in the woods, far from anyone who might hear her scream, when that bastard had stolen her a thousand years ago. Not wanting to cause a scene, she let Johnnie Dempster lead her across the street. But she did feel it was important to point out that she had no money left, so he wouldn’t think she expected him to pay.

  “I have no money to buy food and a leash and collar,” she said, clutching her coat closed at her throat and wishing she was still a hawk so she could fly away. “All I had was the five hundred dollars I gave you,” she told him, glancing over her shoulder for signs of her friend.

  He didn’t even slow down when the grocery store door suddenly opened all by itself. “Don’t worry; it’ll be my treat. Mismatch needs a collar and proper dog food.”

  “Misneach,” Fiona said, even as she wondered where she got the courage to correct him. “And I can’t possibly accept such a gift from you.”

  As if she hadn’t even spoken, Johnnie led her down one of the many aisles in the large store and stopped in front of a display of goods that had pictures of cats and dogs on them. “What in hell kind of name is Misnutch?” he asked. He looked at her, his expression disgruntled. “He’s a hunting dog; you have to give him a noble name like Winchester or Magnum or Decoy. Or at least give him a masculine name like Bruce or Henry or Rex or something.”

  “Misneach is Gaelic for ‘noble one,’” she blatantly lied.

  Apparently mollified, he turned to the display. “I haven’t seen you around town before,” he said, fingering several ropes with clasps on the ends. “Did you just move to Midnight Bay? And was that Gaelic you and your friend were speaking back there at the bookstore?”

  “Yes,” she said, finally able to breathe normally now that he’d let her go.

  He glanced over his shoulder and lifted one brow. “Isn’t Gaelic some old Irish language or something?”

  “I’m Scots.”

  His beard bristled around his grin. “And you have a lovely accent, Fiona …? What’s your last name?”

  “Gregor.”

  His grin disappeared. “You related to Kenzie Gregor?”

  Fiona took the opportunity to step away when a woman pushed a cart full of food past them, although she didn’t quite have the nerve actually to bolt. Johnnie Dempster was a big, long-legged man, and she probably wouldn’t even reach the door before he caught her. “He’s my brother.”

  “Then how come you’re living at Huntsman’s?”

  “Because I wish to be independent.”

  Simply stating it out loud—to a complete stranger and a man, no less—made her feel somewhat braver, despite the fact that she was still effectively trapped.

  No, she never should have come to town today.

  “What’s your favorite color, Fiona?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How about gold, to match your beautiful eyes?” he said, his own eyes smiling. “Or maybe red, like your hair—although I suppose it’s more of a strawberry blond. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a long, thick braid of hair on a woman.”

  Recognizing that his interest in her had become more than just a means to get rid of his dog, Fiona felt the knot in her belly rise into her throat, leaving her unable to speak.

  Johnnie blew out a sigh and returned to fingering the ropes on display. “You’re a bit gun-shy, aren’t you?” he murmured, pulling a bright orange rope off the hook. “Some guy must have burned you really bad. Here, forget about matching anything,” he said, thrusting the rope toward her. “No self-respecting Chesapeake would be caught dead wearing any color other than blaze orange.” He picked up one of the shorter orange belts from the display and snapped it closed to visually gauge its size. “This collar should fit Mismatch, but you’re going to have to buy him a bigger one in a few months.”

  Not daring to correct him again, Fiona thrust the leash toward him. “It’s very generous of you, but I can’t let you buy these for me. You have my word of honor; I will come back another time and buy them myself.”

  Instead of taking the rope, he snapped the collar onto the end of it, leaving it dangling from her hand, and then turned and began searching the colorful bags with pictures of dogs on them.

  Fiona eyed the display of leashes and coll
ars, calculating her chances of hanging hers on the hook and running out of the store before he could catch her.

  But then what? She couldn’t just abandon Gabriella.

  “Come on,” Johnnie said, hefting a large bag onto his shoulder and heading back up the aisle. “Jason and I will give you and your friend a ride home.”

  “But I thought you had to go get your father,” she said, rushing after him like an obedient child. But she was not getting into his vehicle. “We can walk home; it’s just a short distance.”

  He tossed the bag onto the counter, took the leash and collar out of her hand and tossed them down, then pulled the money out of his pocket that Gabriella had given him. “There’s no way you can carry a forty-pound bag of dog food all the way to Huntsman’s house,” he said, pulling one of the fifty-dollar bills free and handing it to the woman behind the counter. “We’ll drop you ladies off on the way, and then I’ll return tonight and bring you Misnutch’s papers,” he said, this time at least trying to pronounce the name correctly.

  “How’s your daddy doing, Johnnie?” the woman behind the counter asked as she ran first the collar and then the leash in front of a machine that gave a soft beep each time. She took a small device and pointed it at the bottom of the bag, causing the machine to beep again. “I heard he fell off the roof.”

  “He busted his leg in three places, but Jason and I are bringing him home this afternoon.” He smiled crookedly. “I guess that’ll teach me to do stuff when Mom asks. I told her I’d stop in and clean that chimney first chance I got, but could my old man wait? Oh, nooo, he had to climb up there and do it himself, thinking he’s still thirty goddamn years old.”