Married To The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 3)

by Veronica Wilson

  Aila, swamped by greedy love, rode the high arcing waves of bliss as her body gloried in a side of Dagmar she’d never expected. Her body, sated by his touch and attention, rose with her, pushing ever faster toward that rocky edge she’d tossed him off of earlier. Except this time, he wanted to take her with him. His mouth claimed hers again, his hot tongue sliding easily, happily against hers. He tasted the way he had last time, a musky flavor that spoke of courage, an unseen fragility and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a love he was just discovering. Knowing just how he felt, Aila reached around his back and slid her long fingered hands over his buttocks. Gripping him tight, Aila brought him back to her, matching his rhythm so that her body wrecked itself and tumbled over the edge of completion.

  “Dagmar!” she cried, buring her face in the strength of his shoulder.

  “Hold onto me, Aila,” she heard Dagmar say before he carried her from the water. It didn’t take long to start shivering in the frigid cold. But once she was dressed, Dagmar picked her up again.

  “Look!” she squealed, pointing up. The first snow fall of the winter and the Solstice season had started in earnest. Big, fat flakes fell from the sky, turning the once-green grass to a white landscape that spoke of rest and coming renewal.

  “It’s a welcome sight,” Dagmar agreed. By silent agreement they went to his tent and Aila bundled under the thick cowhide blankets he had laid out. “I never said it, Aila, but I’d like to say it now.”

  Aila took the cup of brew he offered and sipped, closing her eyes when the first taste hit her tongue. “Okay,” she said, and smiled. When his finger touched her chin she looked up into blue eyes that always seemed to remind her of dangerous adventure. Could he provide safety and security as well?”

  “I love you, Aila Dagny Forsberg,” Dagmar said. “I won’t ruin it by elaborating.”

  Aila giggled, feeling better than she had in a long, long time. For the first time, she thought that it might actually be possible to join her life to Dagmar’s and rule together. Not that she was ready to share that hope with him just yet. She had to trust him first.

  “I can’t believe Solstice is less than two weeks away,” Aila said, sitting her cup down. She patted the blankets next to her, her bright eyes expectant.

  “Anything special you want?”

  “Other than figuring out how to take care of our people? No.”

  “You really love them, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Aila said simply, moving over to make room for him. “Not in the same way I love you, but I have a deep and abiding affection for everyone who looks to me—us—to lead them.”

  “We can do this, Aila,” Dagmar said.

  “We’ll see,” was all she wanted to say about it. Snuggling next to Dagmar, Aila listened to the constant, steady beat of his heart. It soothed her, helping relax her body and even out her breathing. She fell asleep to that sound with a smile on her face.

  Chapter Three: Treasure

  Dagmar woke with a start, listening in the silence. As his eyes finally adjusted, he took stock of his home, noting most importantly that Aila still slept by his side. Looking down at her, he smiled. Her dark hair lay like a curtain against the tan color of his arm. Her thick lashes lay still against her cheeks and the sound of her even breathing told him she slept soundly. “Aila,” he whispered. “Wake up, love.”

  Her lashes fluttered open and Dagmar grinned at the sleepy look on her face. “Everything okay?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dagmar said. “I thought I heard some noises outside, but it could easily just be people moving—“ Dagmar’s voice was cut off by the shouting of men. Soon the shrieking of women joined in and Dagmar was up and out of his tent, his sword in hand. Fires blazed like ravaging beasts as women and children ran toward the back of the village. Dagmar noticed Aila join him, but couldn’t take his focus off the fires.

  “We need to move!” she yelled, the sound barely breaking through the blood that roared in his ears. Dagmar grabbed Aila’s hand and half-dragged her to the side of the village where the fence made a formidable barrier.

  “I agree, but we have to move smart. Whoever is attacking us has the advantage so far.”

  “There’s an exit, Dagmar,” Aila said, pointing to a splice in the fence. She moved over and showed him. He went through first, carrying his spear and letting Aila hold his bow and quiver of arrows. They worked their way through the woods and flanked the invading army. High up on a hill, Aila and Dagmar got their first good look at what they were facing. “We have to figure out how to drive them back. If we can close the gates—“

  “They’ll set them on fire and roast us alive.”

  “What about the exit? We can lead them out and up here. It’ll at least buy us some time.”

  “Alright, Aila,” Dagmar said, seeing the wisdom in her theory. “I’ll go first. We’ll head back in, gather our forces, and drive them back to close the gates. If they’re dumb enough to focus their efforts there, we’ll come from inside and flank them.”

  Aila worked to calm the women and children who now sat huddled in fear at the back of the village. “Listen. The men are going out first, to work on flanking the invading armada. We’re all going to follow very quietly. We want to help our men out by being extremely quiet, okay?” When even the smallest children nodded their heads, all Aila could do was pray to Thor that they’d all make it out of this alive. That’d be enough festive cheer for all of them.

  “Now, Aila,” Dagmar said. She opened the splice and helped the first women through before Dagmar grabbed her. The force of his kiss drove straight down to her toes and was so drenched in love that the other women stopped and stared. “Be careful.”

  “I love you,” she said before disappearing through the crack to guide the other women. Once they were settled, Aila tried to make them as comfortable as possible, even stopping to tell a group of children that there would be plenty of spoils to play with come Solstice time.

  “You seem happy,” Dragna said, when Aila stepped over to see how she was doing.

  “I am, I suppose.”

  “It’s a good look for you.” She smiled. “He’s a good man, Aila.”

  “I know. I’m just not sure he does. I love him. We’ll have to see if he loves me as much.”

  “I’d venture that he loves you just as much. It took him a while to come around to it, but anyone with eyes can see it now. It happened in his heart the first time you were together. For you it happened years ago, long before boys even know much about the difference between us and them.”

  “How did you know we—?“

  “I’m an old woman who’s been there plenty of times, sweetheart. Not to mention, it’s something that sort of shows.”

  “Does everyone know?” Aila was mortified just by the thought of the whole village knowing her personal business.

  “They might not have, but that scorching kiss he gave you sort of settled any estimations. I think the village is happy just knowing that the two people who could and should rule them seem to be dancing the same jig. You’ve got yourself a good man and no one would argue that you’re not an amazing woman. We’d all like to see you settle down and live a happy and full life together, ruling side by side. It’d be the best of Solstice offerings for all of Hail.”

  “With all of this going on, I’ll settle for having a village to go back to,” Aila said, not wanting her worry for Dagmar to show. When Dragna slid her warm and worn hand over hers, Aila bit her lip.

  “Have faith, honey. Your man’s been through worse and come out the other side looking pretty damn good. If I was sixty years younger I’d give you a run for your money on that man.” Aila laughed despite the tense set of her body.

  ***

  Dagmar met Breslin, Bregnan, and Svenbreck near the gates, as fires rages just outside. “I need you two, take half the men we have and distract them. Sven, you’re with me.”

  “We’ll give them a run for their spoils,” Breslin smirked. On the count of three, B
reslin and Bregnan ran through the gates and into the fray.

  “Let’s go,” Dagmar said. He took the other half of their men, including Svenbreck and flanked their unsuspecting attackers. With a righteous yell Dagmar ran his sword through a sentry who stood guard, easily dispatching him. He saw arrows flying from the men whom he’d ordered to stay back from the front line. They took out several men, some even landing in their own fighters. He turned away from the archers in time to see a mammoth of a man bringing his sword down. Swinging up hard, he felt pain radiate straight to his shoulder as it popped from its socket. Grunting he beat the huge man back, slicing his sword across the enemies stomach. The man just kept coming at him, his sword arm intensely strong as Dagmar tried to defend himself with one nearly useless arm.

  His own hands slippery with sweat, Dagmar missed blocking the man’s sword and felt it slice a gash in his sword arm, searing pain straight to his brain. “Shit!” he yelled, anger infusing him with a healthy dose of adrenaline. Swinging like a well-trained madman, Dagmar swung and hacked his way into the enemy, criss-crossing him with gashes and slices until he got one good slice to the back of his knee. When the man fell, Dagmar finished him by beheading. Taking a breath, Dagmar looked up to see Breslin and Bregnan doing well, working together to beat back the horde that had come to take their village. “Keep some alive!” he shouted toward the twins. Rushing to help, Dagmar found a young man, barely old enough to wield a sword. Using his fist, he punched the kid hard across the bridge of his nose and watched the poor kid drop right in front of him.

  “Finish them off Bres!” Dagmar yelled. “I’ve got a prisoner!”

  Two hours later, Dagmar sat in the food tent with the young boy, who now sported a severely broken nose. “Tell me who you are.” The boy just looked at him with dark eyes that held a mixture of hate and fear. “Look boy, I can make your life miserable to an extent that you can’t even imagine. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll make sure you get back to whatever’s left of your people.”

  After the boy refused to talk, Dagmar sighed. With a sorrowful heart, he took the boys left thumb in his hand. Putting pressure on the joint, Dagmar felt the bones give way as the boy screamed in pain. Letting him calm down, Dagmar tried again. “Just tell me who you are, where you come from and I’ll let you go.”

  Met with a wall of silence, Dagmar broke another of the boy’s fingers. Two more sessions of broken fingers and the boy decided to talk. “I’m Dangur. I come from Dunkerie, across the river. My father, the ruler there, said that we could easily take your village and land. He doesn’t know that I’m here fighting.”

  “He’ll know when you go back from with a broken nose and four broken fingers. To your credit you have more guts and gall than some men I know. My healer will fix you up and we’ll see that you make it home safely.”

  Dagmar met Breslin and Bregnan outside the tent. “He finally talk?”

  “Yeah,” Dagmar sighed. “We need to go get our women and children. Then we’ll see about getting him back home.”

  “But we-“ Bregnan started.

  “We’ll deal with the rest later,” Dagmar said. “But right now, we need to let our women know that we’re okay and that Hail is safe again.”

  ***

  As dawn crept over the horizon Aila saw the men headed in their direction. When Dagmar topped the hill she ran to him, pressing her lips warmly to his as he caught her. He laughed when her lips kissed all over his face. “Easy, woman, I’m not dead.”

  “Thank the gods,” she said. “I’d be coming up to Valhalla to kick your arse meself.”

  “Well, I’m not planning on leaving that soon, nor that way. It was a wicked fight, but we drove them back. Got some nice plunder from the battle, too.”

  “Leave it to a man to think about the treasure before the life it may have cost him.”

  “The best treasure of all is right here,” Dagmar said, scooping her up. “Let’s go home!” Dagmar led the return, carrying Aila the entire way. When everyone was once again inside the fenced wall, Dagmar grabbed Aila again and kissed her soundly, to the resounding elation of their people.

  THE END

  Highlander's Love

  Chapter One: At Odds

  “I won’t be your mistress,” Aila Forsberg said, loud enough to have Dagmar Stalson muttering.

  “Who said anything about being my mistress, woman?” Running a hand over his thick brown beard, Dagmar sighed. Fresh off a battle for their village and he was already in another fight. This time the enemy was a friend as well, and a woman to boot. Dagmar was beginning to think he was a glutton for punishment. “All I’m saying is that it’d be easier to build our relationship if we stay in the same tent.”

  “And what would our people think? Their two candidates to rule sharing a tent without being properly married.”

  “Do you think there’s a man or woman out there who hasn’t been bedded before their nuptials took place, Aila? Tell me you’re not that naïve.”

  “Don’t talk to me as if I’m daft, you imbecilic baboon!” Dagmar found himself fending off Aila’s well-planted fists as he laughed. Catching her wrists, Dagmar pressed her up against the support pole, a mixture of anger and arousal pumping through his veins.

  “I’ll talk to you however I like, Aila. That’s the nature of our relationship, such as it is.” Releasing her, he asked, “Don’t you ever wonder what sort of example you’re setting for the young girls who look up to you?”

  “I’m teaching them to be strong, independent, and confident in themselves.”

  “And what about when they get married? Are they supposed to be submissive and docile, fragile even so that their husbands provide willingly for them? Or would you rather they be independent so that they need to provide for themselves and their children?”

  “I want them to never have to worry. Whether they have husbands or not, they should be able to provide for themselves, to contribute.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that men don’t want their women to be self-sufficient? That they just might want a woman who does what she’s told, when she’s told?”

  “Did it ever occur to you that I’ll never be that sort of woman?”

  “It’s something I’ve noticed, yes,” Dagmar said, choosing his words carefully, even as he grinned. “I suppose it’s too much to ask of our ruler, if it be you, to be docile and demure. I’m sure we’ll all appreciate a strong female leader such as yourself.”

  “Mock me now, Dagmar, but I guarantee you that when women are left without their husbands, due to battle, you’ll find yourself leading a group of highly skilled, independent women.”

  “So I should lead?” Dagmar chuckled.

  “By my side,” Aila said, coming toward him.

  “Oh darling, life will never be boring as long as you’re with me.”

  Later than he’d planned, Dagmar went in search of Breslin and Bregnan Bulcher. Fraternal twins who were as easily laid back as they were high strung, they were Dagmar’s best friends and the two he always turned to for just about everything.

  “The mangy cat dragged that thing in again,” Breslin said, elbowing his brother. Dagmar watched Bregnan turn around and was astonished when a young woman stood up. She was beautiful, with warmly tanned skin and jet black hair. Her dark eyes held intelligence and kindness.

  “I’m thinking of shooting the mangy cat if he doesn’t stop dragging you around,” Bregnan laughed.

  “Just as long as you don’t shoot me,” Dagmar smiled. “You two going to introduce me or leave me to do it myself?”

  Bregnan stepped forward. “Dagmar, this is my soon-to-be-wife, Aideen. Aideen, this is my closest, non-related friend. Even if he is slightly daft.”

  “Daft my ass!” Dagmar laughed. “It’s a pleasure Aideen. These two give you trouble, you let me know.”

  “And your beloved, where is she?” Dagmar asked Breslin.

  “She’s sleeping, as they just arrived this morning.”

  “W
hy didn’t you tell me? We would have welcomed them.”

  “We didn’t want to disturb you, seeing as Aila was there.”

  “You two know she’ll kill me if people start talking about us.”

  “We figure she’ll kill you regardless. Not to mention talking about it gets it out in the open. If you two can’t tell each other how you feel, we’ll tell you, for you.”

  “Shut it, Bulcher,” Dagmar scoffed. “When your woman wakes, bring them both to the food tent. Dragna will have lunch ready by then and we can welcome them properly.”

  “Aye,” Breslin smiled. “We will.”

  “See that you do.”

  With that Dagmar turned, ready to see Dragna about her lunch menu.

  ***

  Aila made her daily trip through the tents and small homes of her people. She played with the Halburt twins, marveling at how they’d grown over the last year. Now they were toddling around and learning the language faster than any she’d seen before. Perhaps because they always had someone to talk to. She caught a glimpse of Dagmar heading toward the food tent and ran to catch up to him.

  “Hey,” she said, puffing as she caught her breath. “We need to do another hunt. While it was brilliant to bring back cows for Breslin and Bregnan, we need meat to feed our people.”

  “Alright,” Dagmar said, a courtesy nod of his head saying he’d heard her. “I can’t take Breslin and Bregnan right now, though.”

  “Why not?” Aila questioned.

  “Because their beloveds just got in this morning and by the looks of things, didn’t sleep much on the trip over.”

  “I imagine not. The North Sea has been wicked lately, especially with winter coming in so strong. Not to mention the Winter Solstice is nearly upon us.”

  “Speaking of, I need to know what Dragna has planned for meals. I need to make sure she has everything she needs to feed everyone our traditional feast.”