Текст книги "Only With A Highlander"

But what was she going to do about Matt while she dealt with the magic? How could she keep such a powerful secret from him? She couldn’t say when it had happened exactly, but Winter now accepted the fact that she loved Matheson Gregor with every fiber of her being. Until she had pictured herself having to live without him, she hadn’t realized just how deeply he had become entrenched in her heart. As she rode across the meadow through the driving snow, Winter vowed that she would not allow Providence or the magic or some angry drùidhto mess with that love.

Gesader disappeared into the woods that separated the meadow from the cliff, having to twist his head to fit the long pinewood stick through the trees. Winter had deliberately left the staff at Daar’s tree, but as soon as she’d found a stump and mounted Snowball, Gesader had taken up the lead again, once again carrying the blasted thing in his mouth.

Winter had no idea how the big cat knew its importance, but he did seem determined the staff remain with them. She’d often wondered if the tiny cub Robbie had brought her from eight hundred years ago was something more than he seemed. Even though panthers were not indigenous to Scotland, he had been living in the cave Robbie said had held Cùram’s tree of life. But other than being unusually well-adapted to living with humans, Gesader had shown no signs of being anything other than a typical, semiwild leopard.

He’d never spoken to Winter the way Robbie’s snowy owl spoke to him, nor did Gesader appear to possess any magic, much less act the part of a familiar. He was simply Winter’s cherished pet and steadfast companion. Yet he’d brought her to the dying pine, somehow knowing she needed to feel its waning energy in order to realize the seriousness of the situation.

And the crow she’d seen sitting on the branch above her. What had that been about? Tom certainly loved crows; he’d told Winter they were the harbinger of renewal and transformation, to be revered as spirits who helped restore order to the heavens.

Had the crow she’d seen today symbolized some sort of transformation? Had he been there to encourage her to fight for humanity’s future?

Following Gesader, Winter guided Snowball through the narrow band of trees as she contemplated the meaning of the crow. They stopped at the granite cliff that rose thirty feet above the meadow. She slid from the saddle, nearly falling to the ground when her numbed legs buckled under her weight.

“I have to get us dried off,” she said to her wet, snow-covered pets. “Or Matt is going to find three frozen blocks of ice when he gets home.”

Gesader disappeared into the narrow opening of the cave, then quickly returned empty-mouthed. Winter undid Snowball’s cinch and pulled the heavy saddle off, groaning when its weight nearly buckled her knees again. She let it fall to the ground and dragged it to the cave, dropping it just inside the entrance. She rummaged around in her saddlebag until she found a flashlight, then trailed its beam around the interior of the cave, stopping when she spotted the pile of blankets.

“Bless you, Rose, for being such a good saleslady,” she said, taking one of the blankets.

Winter had helped Matt shop for his camping equipment, but Rose was the one who had insisted he needed extra blankets, a lantern, and a jug for carrying water from the nearby spring Tom had shown them. Rose had also sold Matt ten pairs of wool socks, several pairs of long johns, and a tarp to hang over the entrance of the cave in bad weather.

Winter noticed Matt hadn’t bothered to hang the tarp, likely because the twisted entrance didn’

t allow rain or snow to reach very far inside. That way he could build his fire close to the entrance so the smoke wouldn’t fill the cave.

It wasn’t a very big cave, maybe twenty feet deep and about fifteen feet wide, but it was more than tall enough for Matt to stand upright. All in all, Winter had thought it an appropriate den for the son of a bear, which is exactly what she’d told Matt when she’d helped him settle in last week. She smiled as she carried the blanket outside, remembering how her comment had gotten her a very passionate kiss.

“I’m sorry you won’t fit inside with us,” Winter told Snowball, who had ducked his head into the cave and turned his rump to the wind. She tossed the blanket over his back, smoothing it out and frowning when it came only halfway down his sides. “I’ll get a rope and tie it on you,” she said, giving him a pat before rushing back to her saddle.

She pulled a small coil of rope from one of her bags, then ran back, looped the rope around Snowball’s girth, and tied it securely. “There, that’ll keep most of your heat in,” she said, swiping a large snowflake off her eyelash so she could see to undo Snowball’s bridle strap. She carefully let the bit slip from his mouth, then affectionately rubbed one of his ears. “Go find yourself a sheltered place to sit out the storm,” she said, looking him square in his large brown eye. “I won’t tie you up, so you can graze in the meadow and drink from the brook, but don’t you go wandering off to Tom’s,” she instructed. “I don’

t want him knowing I’m up here, and I don’t want him worrying about me, understand?”

Snowball let out a deep-bellied sigh that puffed a cloud of warm moist air toward her. He then closed his eyes without so much as taking a step toward shelter, apparently deciding this was as good a place as any for a nap. Winter turned to Gesader to see to his needs when she suddenly realized what she’d just said to Snowball.

She didn’t want Tom worrying about her, but what about her parents? And Robbie? Come to think of it, she thought with a frown, how come they hadn’t chased after her?

She was going through a terrible crisis here, and her mama and papa had just let her run away.

And Robbie. What in curses kind of guardian was he, to let her shoot past him without even trying to stop her? Didn’t they realize how traumatized she was? Didn’t they care?

Winter’s frown turned into a scowl aimed at herself. Of course they cared;they cared enough to give her time and space to think over their news. They realized coddling her wouldn’t make the problem go away, but only make themfeel better.

“Oh, Gesader,” she whispered, falling to her knees to hug him. “They must be worried sick about me being out here alone in this storm. I’m the one who hasn’t cared enough to let them know I’m okay.”

She reached in her jacket pocket, pulled out her cell phone, and checked to see what kind of signal she had. Only one bar, but hopefully enough to get through. She pushed the speed-dial for Gù Brath, praying her parents weren’t home as she listened to the phone ring on the other end.

She sighed with relief when the answering machine picked up. “I-I’m just calling to tell you that I’m safe and warm and that I probably won’t be home for a few days. Gesader is with me, and we’ve found shelter, so I don’t want you to worry,” she said before reaching for the END button. She suddenly put the phone back to her mouth. “Oh, and I’m shutting off my cell phone to save the battery, so don’t worry if I don’t answer. Leave a message if you want, and I’ll check my voice mail. I…I love you,” she finished in a whisper, pressing END and then the power button before tucking the phone back in her pocket.

She buried her face in Gesader’s wet fur as unbidden tears suddenly filled her eyes again.

“Curses,” she muttered, “I thought I was cried out.”

A warm, rough tongue lapped the side of her face, amplifying how very cold she was. But Winter didn’t care, as this crying business was harder on a body than the weather. Darn it, she had to get herself under control. Wallowing in self-pity never solved anything.

Winter sat up and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Come on, brat,” she said with herculean determination, getting to her feet. “I’ve got to build a fire and get out of these wet clothes.”

Gesader also stood and shook a gallon of water off his hide, along with a good pound of snow.

He padded over to Snowball, startled the dozing horse with a quick lick on his nose, then padded into the cave ahead of Winter.

The first thing Winter did was find the lantern Matt had bought from Rose, then she rummaged around in her saddlebags for the watertight pack of matches she always carried. It took her three matches to light the kerosene lantern, which she then held up to visibly scan the cave, looking for firewood.

For an executive, Matt Gregor was proving to be an excellent mountain man, she decided with a smile, finding a three-to-four day supply of wood stacked against the side wall. Winter set the lantern on the ground in the center of the cave and gathered up an armful of dry logs, promising herself that as soon as the storm was over she would replace what she used. She crouched in front of the cold fire pit by the entrance of the cave and started fashioning a tepee of smaller twigs, slowly building it up with increasingly larger pieces of wood. Finishing just as a cold shiver wracked her body, Winter quickly searched the cave for paper or birch bark to use for starter. She couldn’t find anything, other than a binder of printouts she couldn’t decipher that had Matt’s handwriting all over the pages. She definitely didn’t dare burn that. Her search continued, eventually ending at Matt’s sleeping bag when she spotted the pinewood staff Gesader had dropped there.

She stared at that staff, remembering the surge of energy she’d felt in Daar’s cabin when she’d touched it. “Hmmm.” She looked toward Gesader lying next to the unlit fire pit. “What do you think?

Can I light a fire without starter or matches, brat? Robbie and Daar do it all the time.”

Gesader didn’t offer an opinion, but started licking his paws. Winter looked back at the staff.

How hard could it be? Surely all she had to do was point the thing at the fire and command the wood to ignite.

She picked up the staff somewhat hesitantly, expecting the maelstrom to attack her again. But there was no light, no flashing rainbow of colors, no roaring in her ears. In fact, nothing more than a gentle tingle traveled through her, but it did warm her up a bit. Somewhat disappointed by the lack of fireworks, Winter scooted back to the pit. She stayed at least three feet away, pointed the staff at the tepee she’d made, and said, “Light my fire!”

A percussion strong enough to shake the entire cliff blasted inside the cave, along with an explosion of energy so powerful it knocked Winter flat to the ground. Gesader jumped to his feet with a startled roar and ran outside with a yelp.

Winter lay on the floor of the suddenly dark cave, blinking in dazed awe. But it wasn’t until she smelled something burning, looked at the fire pit and saw nothing, that she truly became alarmed.

“Curses!” she shouted, catching sight of the smoldering pile of blankets. She jumped to her feet, grabbed the blankets, ran to the entrance of the cave, and threw the pile outside. Then she started stomping on them, using her feet to spread them out and kick snow over the smoldering patches.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” she snapped at Gesader, who was sitting ten feet away in the swirling snowstorm, his lips curled up in his snarling panther smile. He sneezed three times in rapid succession and trotted past her back into the cave.

Winter looked down at the wet and dirty blankets. Was that blasted staff directional? Did it have a holding end and a lethal end, or what? Holy hell, Gesader had been running around with the accursed thing in his mouth all day. He could have caught the entire forest on fire!

The wind blew snow down the front of her open collar, and Winter shuddered. Darn it, she had to get warm and dry before she caught a cold. She picked up the blankets with a tired sigh, shaking them out one at a time to make sure the fire was extinguished, then folded them back into a pile. She carried the pile in the cave, but not before taking one last peek at Snowball. He had fallen asleep again, though now he was standing a good twenty feet away behind a large spruce tree.

The first thing Winter did after tossing the blankets back in the corner was hunt up the lantern, which she discovered on its side against the back wall. She thanked her lucky stars it was a safety lantern, and that the flame had blown out rather than exploding kerosene over everything and igniting a real fire. Gesader was again curled into a tight ball by the still-unlit pit, and Winter was back to not having anything to use for starter. She didn’t dare pour kerosene on the wood, knowing how quickly that could get out of control—especially the way her luck was going.

Winter gave another sigh of self-pity and went back outside and started looking for a birch tree she could steal bark from. It took her another ten shivering minutes to return with a fistful of white paperlike bark.

“You could have at least come with me,” she grumbled to Gesader, who growled back at her without even bothering to open his eyes. “And you leave that stick alone before you blow us all to hell,”

she said, scowling at the pinewood staff laying near the back wall of the cave where it had landed.

She carefully tucked the birch bark inside the tepee, found her matches, and used up five of them before she was able to get the cold bark to even start smoking. She hunched down and softly blew on the faint embers, sitting up when it finally warmed enough to burst into flames.

She sat on the ground and watched the tiny flames grow, carefully feeding more bark into the slowly expanding fire until she heard the first crackle of solid wood ignite. Gesader immediately stood up, moved closer to the fire, then laid back down again with a deep sigh. Winter got up, and while keeping a guarded eye on the fire, she stripped out of her wet clothes down to her wet long johns. Then she went over to Matt’s duffel bag and pawed through it until she found a set of his long johns. She quickly finished undressing, shedding everything including her bra and panties, and slipped into Matt’s cold but dry long johns. She had to roll the sleeves up about five times, and the legs even more before she could walk without tripping. She found a pair of his thick wool socks and put them on, then slipped into one of his bulky chamois shirts, rolling up its sleeves as she looked down with a laugh at the shirttails hanging below her knees.

“What do you think of my northwoods fashion?” she asked Gesader. “Will I turn many heads?”

Gesader opened one golden eye, then promptly dropped it shut again, apparently more tired than impressed. Winter went over to Matt’s sleeping bag and dragged it and its pad closer to the fire.

She unzipped the bag, crawled inside, and zipped it closed all the way up to her nose. Gesader immediately got up, walked around the now brightly burning fire, and plopped down on top of the sleeping bag so that he was tucked against her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered, staring at the fire as she breathed in the odor of wet cat fur…and another smell she’d grown quite fond of lately. It was a smell that made her think of beautiful golden eyes, tasty warm lips, and strong arms holding her secure. Winter’s last sigh of the day ended with a smile as she closed her eyes on a yawn.

Yes, she was quite in love with Matheson Gregor, and neither the magic nor Cùram de Gairn could alter that truth.

Chapter Sixteen