Dragon Warrior (Midnight Bay)

by Janet Chapman

  “Why?”

  She finally looked at him. “Because . . . so I could . . .” She buried her face in her hands. “He’s g-gone,” she said on a sob.

  William pulled her to him, rubbing his thumb over her damp cheek. “He told me to tell ye good-bye and that he loved ye like a daughter. And he thanks ye for the wonderful party, and for the chance it gave him to leave everyone on a happy note.”

  “I-I wanted to be holding his hand.”

  “Nay, Madeline. Hiram said it was better if he left while you were sleeping, because he couldn’t have handled the sadness he knew he’d see in your eyes. He was afraid that if you started crying he would, too, and said it just wouldn’t be proper for a man of the woods to leave this earth bawling like a baby.”

  “I didn’t want him to go, William.”

  “We’re not meant to live forever, lass. Do ye not think ninety-one years was long enough for your friend?”

  “No.”

  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I believe Hiram thought it was. Be glad he was able to leave peacefully, lass. Not everyone does.”

  She tried to get up, but William held her against him; and obviously not wanting to wrestle with him in his condition, she relaxed with a sigh. “I-I have to get up,” she said, although she made no move to do so. “I can’t just leave him lying there.”

  “He’s not there, Madeline; he’s everywhere now. Did Mac try to take you with him when he left?”

  She went perfectly still again. “Mac?”

  “The tiger—Maximilian Oceanus. Did he ask you to run off with him or try to bully ye into going with him?”

  He felt her suddenly relax, and his thumb brushed across what he realized was her smile. “I told Mr. Oceanus in no uncertain terms that I think men who try poaching other men’s girlfriends are pond scum.” She softly snorted. “I believe he left here with his tiger tail between his legs, knowing exactly what I thought of him.”

  William closed his eyes against the knot forming in his gut. “Maddy, darling, ye didn’t send Mac away; ye merely presented him with a challenge. Men, like tigers, will chase anything that runs from them, and they won’t stop until they catch it.”

  Apparently oblivious to his mood, she tilted her head back to smile at him. “Is that what you did, Mr. Killkenny? As soon as you realized I wanted nothing to do with you, the chase was on?” Her smile turned downright smug. “Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe that was my plan all along?”

  Oh, she was definitely feeling quite proud of herself, and William pulled her head down so she wouldn’t see his scowl. But she patted his chest and sat up, and then quickly scrambled off the bed before he could catch her. She glanced over at Hiram’s body, and her eyes turned sad again.

  “I need to go get Maureen so we can take care of him.” She looked at the window and saw it was getting light, and that the rain had stopped. “William, are the wolves gone for good this time?”

  “I’m afraid not. But knowing that Mac is here, I have an idea how we can stop them from returning. Before ye get Maureen, could you tell Kenzie and Trace that I need to talk to them?” he said, trying to sit up.

  She ran back to the bed. “Oh, no, you don’t. You are staying put until an ambulance can take you to the hospital in Ellsworth. That collarbone might be broken, and if you move around too much, it could pierce your jugular vein.”

  He arched a brow at her, trying not to laugh at her threatening glare. “Did ye happen to notice any old scars on my body while you were checking for new ones?”

  She folded her arms under her breasts and arched her brow at him. “As a matter of fact, your body looks like you might want to trade in your sword for a weapon that doesn’t require you to get within ten feet of . . . whatever you’re fighting.” Her scowl returned. “Because you obviously haven’t learned how to avoid the pointed end of one.”

  That got rid of his desire to laugh. “Maybe I should help Mac steal you.”

  She snorted. “Trust me; he’d return me in less than a week.” She leaned down right in his face. “And when I got back here, I would screw your Irish stockings on so tight they’d never blow off your feet again. Stay in bed.”

  That said, she spun around and disappeared before William could break into a full-blown grin. He was going to have to do something about the woman’s belief that she could take care of herself, he decided, as he sat up and swung his feet off the bed, before she got into real trouble.

  What he’d been trying to point out by pointing out his old scars, is that he had enough experience to know if his bones were broken or not. Only as soon as he stood up, William realized he had another problem, as he was as naked as the day he’d been born and saw no sign of his clothes.

  A fact to which poor Charlotte’s scream attested when she came barreling in through the door, which was followed by Lois’s shriek as she came in behind her.

  The three of them stood there staring at one another, until William finally snapped the blanket off the bed and covered himself—though not quickly enough to stop both women from bursting into laughter as they ran down the hall to tattle to Maddy.

  And for the second time that day William found himself terrified, only this time of Madeline instead of for her. He quickly crawled back into bed, covered himself up with the blanket, and looked over at Hiram. “I may soon be joining you, old man.”

  But instead of Maddy coming in to scold him, Doris walked in, looking like a drowned rat. She stopped with a startled gasp, and William looked down to make sure he was decently covered and then smiled at her.

  “Mr. Killkenny! What are you doing here?”

  He held up his bandaged arm. “Your staff was kind enough to tend my injuries when Kenzie and Trace and I got stranded here in the storm.”

  She suddenly noticed all the streamers and balloons and half-eaten cake, and then her gaze landed on Hiram and her eyes immediately turned troubled. “Oh, dear,” she said, walking over to him. She touched his weathered cheek. “I am so going to miss him,” she whispered. She sighed. “Well, he’s in a better place.”

  “Oh, I believe Hiram thought this place was quite nice,” William softly assured her. “In fact, he told me the only part he didn’t like about dying was his having to leave all of you. Ye gave Hiram many happy years here, Doris, and he asked me to tell you that he appreciated your efforts. Especially your battle to stop them from cutting down that old pine tree next to the river that he loved to sit under, so he could smell the pine pitch on the hot summer days.”

  She looked over at him. “I didn’t know Hiram was even aware that I was the one who stopped the owners from cutting it down. I believed everyone thought his handwritten petitions made them change their minds.”

  “Hiram knew it was you they eventually listened to, not him.”

  She looked back at her deceased resident and sighed again. “Let me have someone make up a bed for you in another room, Mr. Killkenny,” she said, looking at him again. “So you don’t have to be in here with him.”

  “I don’t mind, Doris. And ye needn’t bother, anyway; if the roads are passable, then it’s time Kenzie and Trace and I got going. Um . . . if somebody could find me something to wear, that is,” he said with a chuckle. “For I fear I’ve already scandalized poor Charlotte and Lois.”

  Speaking of the little devils, Charlotte and Lois popped their heads in the doorway, and Maddy walked in and tossed some folded material at him. “The open side of the thin robe goes in the back, and the thick one goes over it, with the opening in the front. Doris,” she said, suddenly noticing her boss. “The roads are open?”

  “The main road is,” Doris said. She shook her head. “It looks like a category three hurricane came through Midnight Bay. There are crews working with chainsaws all over the place, and line trucks are clearing away the wires. I swear, it’s going to take a month of Sundays to clean up this town. Only it’s the strangest thing—the storm didn’t seem to hit Ellsworth or even Oak Harbor.” She
walked over and hugged Maddy. “I’m sorry, Ms. Kimble,” she said. “I know how much Hiram meant to you.” She stepped back and waved at the decorations, smiling crookedly. “I see you all got together and sent him off in high style, though. I’m sorry I missed the party.”

  Kenzie and Trace walked in. “Eve’s on her way to pick us up,” Kenzie said. “Maddy, we’ll give ye a ride home.”

  “I need to stay here and take care of William and . . . Hiram.”

  “The funeral home has already been called,” Doris said, “and they’re on their way. And the rest of the staff is trickling in, so we’re all set here. Why don’t you take the next few days off? At least until after Hiram’s funeral, which will probably be on Wednesday. He already made the arrangements.” She smiled. “From what hymns he wanted right down to the beautiful pine box he showed me a picture of.”

  “But—”

  “You can take care of William at your house, Peeps,” Trace said, cutting off Maddy’s protest before she could make it. “That should keep you busy enough.”

  “But—”

  “And I can sit on your porch and supervise as ye clean up your yard,” William said, cutting off her protest again.

  “But you can’t—”

  “Don’t make me get out the hair clippers,” Trace said quietly.

  William saw Maddy’s shoulders slump in defeat.

  But he figured they’d soon straighten back up once she saw the new SUV he would now have to take out of Kenzie’s barn.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Maddy gave William a sweet little wave as she pulled out of her driveway, making sure not to let him see her smile. She looked into her rearview mirror when she reached the road, and chuckled out loud at the sight of him standing on her porch, scowling hard enough to hurt his face. She didn’t know which was confounding him more, that she was leaving without him or that she hadn’t even bothered to ask if she could borrow his truck.

  She’d had some reservations about letting William stay at her house while he recuperated, but he’d been a surprisingly cooperative patient, and Maddy suspected he quite liked being fussed over by three women. While soaking up their attention like a thirsty sponge, William had in turn entertained everyone with stories of his own family, and spent hours sitting on the porch listening to Sarah read The Chronicles of Narnia aloud.

  Rick had moved back home, only now instead of stumbling into bed at three in the morning, he was leaving at four to go fishing with Trace as both men plotted to add a second boat to their fleet. Patricia had been horrified to learn that her son had dropped out of college, but Maddy had stood beside Rick when he’d broken the news to their mother that he had inherited his dad’s passion for fishing.

  Yes, the Lane house was near to bursting with people, and despite dealing with demon wolves, lecherous tigers, and freak storms, Maddy couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy.

  And she wasn’t nearly as scared as she thought she’d be.

  She turned on the radio to her favorite country and western station, cranking up the volume until all eight speakers were thumping. When Trace had delivered the spanking-new, fire-engine-red SUV on Sunday, Maddy had seen William actually brace himself, as if he’d been expecting her to explode—or at least spit and sputter and tell him she was not driving this truck around town, either, for everyone to see. But she’d given a squeal of delight instead, and climbed in the driver’s seat and started playing with all the buttons.

  She might get stubborn sometimes but she wasn’t stupid; it was a really badass truck. It had ten times the buttons William’s pickup had, including a navigation system a rocket scientist would have trouble figuring out, and she really, really loved it. And she’d finally decided that what was the point of having a rich boyfriend, anyway, if she couldn’t enjoy some of the perks?

  Maddy chuckled again as she remembered William’s expression this morning, when, on their way to Hiram’s funeral, he’d finally realized that she had already made the truck her own. She’d folded a pretty throw blanket over the backseat, programmed the radio—which was satellite, thank you very much—to her favorite channels, filled the console with all her paraphernalia, and even slapped a bumper sticker on the back that said, “Nurses Do It with Intensive Care.”

  And just to see if she couldn’t get him to explode, on their ride back she’d told him the truck would look really cool with a vanity plate that said “DRGNHRT”—after the pretty pin he’d given her that she’d named Willy Dragonheart.

  He hadn’t exploded, but he certainly had spit and sputtered.

  The poor man; Maddy wished she could tell him to just quit trying so hard. He might not have had her at hello, but she’d definitely started melting when she saw him with her residents. And when he’d given her that small wooden box to tuck under her bed when he’d picked her up on Friday, and she’d realized he hadn’t even sealed it . . . well, someone needed to look after the romantic sap before some perky-boobed, tight-assed hussy stuck her gold-digging claws into him.

  She had planned to make this trip to Ellsworth on Monday, to talk to her doctor about that new Plan B morning-after pill she’d recently read about and to get a more reliable contraceptive, but since she’d started her period late Saturday night, it had taken away a good deal of the urgency.

  So she’d made her appointment for Wednesday afternoon instead, and she intended to come home with several surprises for William: an IUD—because she didn’t think he’d wait around for the pill to take effect—and a couple of cases of fine Irish ale that Trace had told her William liked. As for her third surprise, Mr. Killkenny was about to find out that he wasn’t the only one who liked to give gifts. She was taking the nice little bequeathal Mr. Man had left her in his heart-wrenchingly sweet card—which had started her crying all over again when Doris had quietly handed it to her at the funeral—and buying William a token of her affection.

  She’d found the perfect piece last night, when she’d gone online to browse local stores in Ellsworth, although at the time she hadn’t known exactly what she’d been looking for. Figuring William wouldn’t wear anything that even hinted at being jewelry, she had started looking for something he could carry in his pocket. But remembering the St. Christopher medal her mom had given her dad, which he’d worn on a long chain around his neck to keep him safe while fishing, she had eventually gravitated to the small medallions that were definitely made for manly men.

  Even if she’d designed something herself, she couldn’t have come up with a more perfect piece than the one she had found.

  Maddy pulled into the liquor store just outside Ellsworth and bought three cases of ale and two slip-on bottle sleeves; one exclaiming Your village just called to say they’re missing their idiot, and one that said I’m so damn near perfect, I even scare myself sometimes.

  She then went to the jewelry store, bought the medal, and spent the twenty minutes it took them to engrave it picking out the perfect chain. She wanted one strong enough to survive William and long enough that he could slip it over his head and it would hang low enough on his beautiful broad chest that it wouldn’t show even if he kept the top two buttons undone.

  And then she made them gift-wrap it in very manly paper.

  It was almost two hours later that Maddy walked out of her doctor’s office, feeling a bit crampy but quite satisfied that she wouldn’t have to worry about another unplanned pregnancy. She climbed into the SUV—which she’d parked at the end of the lot because she didn’t want anyone dinging its beautiful doors—and opened the console. She rummaged through her bag of necessities, got out two aspirins, and popped them in her mouth.

  But when she tilted her head back to take a swig of water, Maddy inadvertently glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Maximilian Oceanus sitting directly behind her—holding an open bottle of Irish ale in one hand and the medal she’d bought William in the other.

  William sat in the backseat of Kenzie’s truck, staring down at the three cell phones in his hand
; one was Kenzie’s, one was his own, and the third belonged to Trace. All three men had gotten text messages half an hour ago; all originating from Maddy’s cell phone, all requesting they come to Dragon Cove.

  The messages were signed “Mr. P.S.”

  William closed his eyes against the knot strangling his gut. Maddy had written the texts, and signing them “Mr. P.S.” was her way of saying the man she’d called pond scum—to his face—had made her send them.

  “Is there a reason you let Maddy go off by herself this afternoon?” Trace growled from the front seat.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Kenzie said before William could answer. “Mac would have gotten hold of her eventually. Oceanus is well known for his patience.”

  “He’s also known for wiping out entire civilizations when that patience has been pushed too far,” William added, the knot in his gut starting to burn at the thought of Maddy doing the pushing. “So Mac’s the one who’s been holding Fiona,” he said, rereading Kenzie’s text message. He reread Trace’s. “And Carolina must have stolen the coin from her betrothed, and Mac wants it as well as his sister.”

  “Then why get Maddy involved?” Trace asked. “Doesn’t he think Fiona is enough of a trade for his sister and the coin?”

  “Taking Maddy was personal,” William said, snapping shut all three phones.

  “Did you piss him off, Killkenny?” Kenzie asked.

  “No, I believe Madeline did,” he said with a sigh.

  Kenzie drove right up to the bluff where William was building his home and shut off the engine. All three men sat silently, looking around the construction site, which was empty because the crew was still helping clean up Midnight Bay after the storm.

  “Holy hell,” Trace whispered, looking toward an outcropping of ledge.

  William snorted. “Mac does love drama,” he said, opening his door.

  Kenzie also got out, and William could feel the tension humming through the highlander. “Don’t worry. Mac has no intention of harming Fiona much less keeping her. In fact, he’ll probably offer to pay you to take the little termagant off his hands.”