Текст книги "Loving The Highlander"

Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен

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Sadie traced circles with her fingertip through the furry mat of hair covering his chest.

She had a fair amount of area to cover and let it tickle her palm as she ran a lazy path over his muscles. She stopped and explored a nipple, heard him moan again, and ran her tongue over the silky-smooth circle. Hair tickled her lips as she gently suckled, and Morgan sat bolt upright and held her away.

Sadie smiled at his ferocious scowl, patting the spot she’d just licked.

“I promise to let you do the same to me in a minute,” she told him. “But I want my wicked way with you first.”

“I’ll disgrace myself,” he said through gritted teeth.

She pushed him back and leaned over him again, her nose inches from his. “We’ve got an eternity to practice, husband,” she said, sitting up and unbuttoning her shirt.

She watched his eyes go from her face to her breasts, and his scowl relaxed. He set his hands behind his head again as she slid the shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to her back.

Sadie cupped her breasts, pushing them together as she leaned forward and let them dangle over his chest. She slowly brushed them back and forth, only to find that now she was the one building with a tension that started in the pit of her stomach and spiraled outward and down to the very center of her femininity.

Sweat broke out on Sadie’s forehead. She felt flushed and wet between her thighs, and she couldn’t seem to stop shaking with the need to feel Morgan inside her.

His hands came to her breasts, replacing hers that were now digging into his shoulders.

He gently fondled her, setting her completely on fire. She may have cried out, Sadie wasn’t sure, but she did know that she couldn’t make her hips stop moving against him.

His hands left her breasts but were quickly replaced by his mouth. Sadie shouted then, louder than the roar of the waterfall. Morgan lifted her and pushed off his pants, and suddenly there was nothing between her and her husband’s rock-hard erection.

Searing heat pushed against the folds of her womanhood, and Morgan’s strong hands grabbed her hips and lifted, settling her more intimately onto him.

Sadie felt herself stretching, accepting, taking Morgan inside. She moaned this time, loud and deep and keening, when she felt his mouth cover her breast. He used his hands on her hips to set them into a rhythm, suckled her nipple until she thought she was going to explode.

And she did, gloriously, shouting her pleasure to the granite walls of their wondrous heaven, gasping as each rocketing spasm took her spiraling upward. Morgan shouted his own pleasure, tightening his grip on her hips to help her ride out the light storm they

’d created together.

Sadie sprawled on top of him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, feeling the lingering pulse of her pleasure still throbbing around him.

And they lay together that way, both breathing hard, until their racing hearts stopped trying to out-thump each other.

“It kind of sneaks up on you, doesn’t it?” Sadie mumbled into his chest.

“What does?”

Sadie tilted her head back and opened one eye to the sleepy laughter she heard in his voice. “The passion. I thought I was going to spend an hour driving you insane. But I was the one who didn’t last five minutes.”

He patted her bottom affectionately. “I’m guessing we’ll calm down in about thirty years,” he said with a chuckle. He rolled them both over until she was beneath him, then kissed her on the forehead. “We’ll practice until we get it right.”

He brushed the hair from her face with repeated, gentle strokes, staring down at her with shining eyes.

“I love you, Mercedes,” he whispered. “As God is my witness, I love you more than life itself, lass. Will you marry me, Mercedes? Just as soon as I find that crazy old priest, will you do me the honor of making our vows legal?”

Sadie stretched her arms over her head like a lazy cat and thought about making Morgan wait for her answer. But she was too sated, too happy, and too much in love with him to let him suffer one more second.

“There must be a priest somewhere around here,” she told him. “And as soon as you find him, I’ll marry you, Morgan. Do you think we can make babies in heaven?”

He rolled off her and stood up, then leaned down and picked her up. He waded into the shimmering pool until the water reached his waist and dropped her without warning.

Sadie sank to the bottom, retaliating by touching him intimately and kissing his erection.

She could hear his shout even under the water.

They practiced getting it right three more times, moving from the warm, shimmering water to the sandy shore to the far side of the pool under the thick spray of the waterfall.

Sadie lay exhausted on top of Morgan on the rocks, not even possessing enough strength to let out a respectable sigh. Morgan, though, could still manage enough energy to stroke her bottom gently with a lazy hand.

He lifted her chin to look at him. “You’re a scary woman, wife, when you lose your shyness.”

She wrinkled her nose and tiredly patted his chest. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, husband.”

Sadie didn’t know where the man found the strength, but he lifted her away from him and gently set her on the rocks beside him. She looked out over the waterfall. They’d ended up underneath it somehow, and the unusually warm water ran in a curtain that sparkled like sun-washed glass before it crashed into the pool at their feet.

Sadie’s stomach rumbled, and she laughed. “I guess you can get hungry in heaven,” she said, rubbing her belly. “But I’m simply too tired to eat.”

“And I’m too tired to hike back to the logging camp right now and get our stuff,” he said, standing and holding out his hand. “How about a small nap first, then I’ll go get our stuff?”

She took his offered hand and stood up, looking around the water-walled chamber they were in.

“Oh my God!” She gasped, shaking off his hand and walking in small circles, staring at the ground.

She was walking on small pebbles of gold.

“This is it, Morgan!” she squeaked, whirling to face him. “Jedediah’s mine. We found it!”

He scuffed at the ground with his bare toe, bending down and picking up one of the nuggets so that he could hold it up to the light of the waterfall.

“It seems we have,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the falls.

Sadie walked back to him and examined the nugget in his hand, letting out a weary sigh.

“Fat lot of good it does me now,” she grumbled. “The park will never be built.”

Morgan looked at her, his smile sad and his eyes dark. “What would happen if we were not dead, Mercedes? What if you were alive and had all this gold at your disposal?

What would you do?”

“I’d build the park.”

“And then what would happen to this magical place?” he asked, dropping the gold and turning her to face him. “If we’re alive, and this place really exists, then what will happen to it when all the tourists come to visit your park?”

She frowned at him. “It’s a moot point. We’re dead.”

He shook her slightly. “But if we weren’t,” he persisted. “What would happen to this gorge?”

She had to think about that, and she didn’t like what she was thinking. “It would be ruined,” she told him. “Once it was discovered—and it would be—then the people would trample over every square inch of this ground, trying to get to the gold.”

He nodded and released her shoulders. “That’s right, they would. Your park, your father’s legacy—it would all be forgotten, overtaken by the mystery of this special place.”

“But we’re dead, Morgan,” Sadie insisted. “Simply based on the fact that nothing like this can exist in the real world. It isn’t possible.”

Morgan said nothing more. He took her hand and led her around the edge of the waterfall and along the shore of the pool until they were back on the sandy beach. He picked up the shirt she’d discarded and settled it over her shoulders, wrapping her up and grasping it closed over her breasts. He kissed her nose.

“Let it go for now,” he softly entreated. “There will be plenty of time to worry about this later. We both need some sleep first. Then I’ll find us something to eat, and we’ll deal with our problems on full bellies.”

He used his grip on her shirt to pull her down as he spoke, and Sadie happily let him.

She cuddled into his embrace the moment they landed, closed her eyes, wrapped her arms tightly around him, and quickly fell asleep.

Chapter Twenty

Sadie awoke to the strong odorof a wet dog. She opened her eyes and reached up to push Faol’s tongue away from her face, but her hand stopped in mid-reach and changed direction to poke Morgan in the shoulder.

“We’ve got company,” she whispered, quickly wiggling to sink farther behind him.

“Father Daar’s here,” she squeaked a bit louder, poking him harder.

Good Lord. She and Morgan were as naked as the day they’d been born, her shirt thrown off and lying behind her. And if they weren’t dead already, the scowl on the old priest’s face likely would kill them.

“Ya have two minutes to get up and get dressed,” Father Daar snapped, pointing an age-bent finger at them. “Or you’ll be saying your wedding vows naked.”

Morgan sat up and used his body to shield Sadie from the scandalized gaze of the priest. She took advantage of his broad back and quickly found his shirt and slipped it on, buttoning it all the way up to her neck.

“Turn around, old man,” Morgan growled. He waited until the priest complied, then looked to see that Mercedes was modestly covered. He grinned at her furiously blushing face.

“Are you ready to say the words, lass?” he asked, feathering a finger over her red-hot cheek.

Mortified beyond any ability to speak, Sadie nodded.

Morgan stood up, sauntered past the still waiting priest, and gathered the clothes he’d dropped by the end of the pool. Sadie scrambled to her feet and made sure she was decently covered to her knees, thankful that Morgan’s shirt had long tails.

Her soon-to-be-for-real husband wasn’t the least bit shy about his own state of undress, nor did he seem worried that they’d been caught sleeping together—naked—by the priest. He carried her bundle of clothes back to her, frowning at Father Daar as he passed him.

Sadie quickly dressed, pushing Faol out of the way several times in order to tie her boots.

She suddenly gasped. “Faol was killed, too!” she yelped, just now realizing what the wolf’s presence meant. She gasped again. “And Father Daar. You’re dead!”

The priest turned and looked down at himself. “I am?” he echoed in dismay.

Morgan sat beside her, putting his own boots on, but he stopped and looked at her.

“You’re not dead, old man,” Morgan said impatiently. He waved one large hand in the air. “Mercedes thinks she’s died and gone to heaven,” he explained. “Thanks to your magic.”

Looking more confused than relieved, Father Daar turned his attention to Sadie. “What makes ya think we’re all dead, girl?” he asked.

Sadie held up her right hand, palm toward him. “I’m healed, Father. All my scars are gone. And I was shot. I felt the bullet rip through my body, but I don’t hurt, I’m not bleeding, and I don’t have any scars anymore. So I’m dead.”

The priest darted a quick look at the still shimmering pool, then turned his penetrating gaze to Morgan as he lifted one bushy white eyebrow. “Ya used the burl again, didn’t ya?” Father Daar said in a low voice, waving at the water. “Ya exposed our secret to save your woman’s life.”

Sadie looked at Morgan and saw him nod.

“And being a modern, she don’t believe this is possible?” the priest continued, drawing Sadie’s attention back.

She looked at Morgan, and he nodded again.

Sadie stood up, deciding she could speak for herself. She walked up to the priest and pulled her shirttail from her pants, lifting it high enough to expose her stomach.

“The bullet went into the middle of my back,” she told him. “And came out my side,”

she added, turning and pointing at her back. “And I should be covered with old scars here, from the fire that killed my sister.”

She dropped the shirttail and crossed her arms under her breasts. “I’m completely healed, Father.”

She heard Morgan sigh again right beside her and looked to see him rubbing a hand over his face.

“We can’t say our vows until she understands,” Morgan said to the priest. “She has to realize what she’s getting for a husband.”

“Then explain it to her,” Father Daar said. “And be quick about it.” He pointed at Sadie’

s middle. “At the rate you two are going, your firstborn will be sprouting teeth before ya

’re properly wed.”

Sadie stepped back, covering her belly with her hand. “What firstborn? What are you talking about?”

“Are ya telling me it was an innocent nap you two were just having?” Father Daar asked.

Sadie felt her face heat to near flaming.

“We’ll say our vows as soon as she understands,” Morgan repeated.

“You’ll say them now before me and God, or I’m going home and washing my hands of ya. There’s a terrible storm brewing in this valley that’s needing your attention. But not until you’re properly wed.”

Still unable to raise her mortified eyes above Morgan’s belt, Sadie waited for him to decide if he really wanted to marry her or not. If they were all dead, what did it matter?

And if they were really alive?

“If—if you don’t want to get married, we won’t,” she said to his chest, still unable to raise her eyes any higher, fearing what she might see in his. “We’ll forget the rest of the week and just go our separate ways now.”

She was suddenly hauled up against Morgan’s side, turned to face the priest, her ribs crushed so fiercely it was a wonder they didn’t crack.

“Begin!” Morgan snapped to Father Daar.

As a declaration of love, that one word sounded magical to Sadie. Yes, they would begin their life together right now. And they’d have the most blessed union heaven had ever seen.

Their vows would be real this time, in this wonderful place that was more beautiful than any church Sadie had ever seen. They would have a storybook marriage that would last for eternity.

Father Daar had taken a small book out of his pocket and had already begun reading their vows. Sadie smoothed down the front of her flannel shirt and decided she probably should pay attention. But the moment she started listening, she realized she didn’t understand a word the priest was saying.

She squinted and leaned forward to see the book he was reading from, and she didn’t recognize any of the words. She covered the page with her hand, making him frown up at her.

“What language is that?” she asked.

“Gaelic,” Daar said, moving the book from under her hand and holding it up again.

“But I don’t know what you’re saying,” she interrupted, making his frown deepen. “Can’

t you translate it into English? And why are you using Gaelic to begin with?”

He cleared his throat, turned his frown into a glare, and shot it at Morgan, then back at her. “Because it’s our language, girl,” Father Daar said impatiently. “And since we outnumber you two to one, we get to choose the vows.”

Sadie waved at the book. “Then say them. But we’re going to add our own vows—in English, so I know what I’m promising.”

With a lift of his eyebrows at her impertinence, Father Daar raised the book up and began reading again. The words sounded more like curses than pledges to Sadie, with sharp consonants and guttural vowels that were more spat than spoken.

Faol had come to view the proceedings and was sitting beside Sadie, leaning on her leg, his tongue lolling out and his eyes a sappy iridescent green as he stared up at her.

Morgan, disturbingly silent beside her, had her right hand clasped so tightly Sadie thought he was afraid she’d change her mind before the service was over.

Father Daar suddenly quit speaking and turned expectant blue eyes on her. Sadie guessed she was supposed to say “I do.”

She took both of Morgan’s hands into hers, straightened her shoulders, and started her vows.

“I love you, Morgan MacKeage. And I promise to be your wife for all eternity, to cherish you, to honor your spirit, and to guard with my soul this love that we’ve found.”

She squeezed his hands. “And we’ll have lots of babies together and raise them in a house overflowing with love. We’ll teach them the wonders of nature and bring them up… bring them up… ”

She couldn’t go on. Her heart was near to bursting, she was getting all mushy inside, and a lump the size of a basketball was caught in her throat. She shook her head and swallowed and forced herself to continue.

“And I promise to love you forever,” she finished on a choked whisper.

That finally said, Sadie sucked in her breath and waited for Morgan to say his vows.

“You’re mine,” he growled, pulling her so forcibly into his chest that the air rushed out of her lungs with a gasp.

You’re mine?

That was it?

Morgan’s mouth covered hers with that same downright possession she’d seen in his eyes. He kissed the outrage right out of her before it could gather a foothold. And he kissed her some more, until the impatient coughing of a scandalized priest broke them up.

“It’s done, then,” Father Daar said with finality, rather loudly. “Now, let’s eat. We’ll have us a wedding feast of nice tasty trout. Stop mauling your wife, Morgan, and catch us some supper.”

But her husband wasn’t paying the priest any mind. Sadie pinched Morgan in the side to get him to come up for air.

“Go catch us some trout from one of the cooler pools below, Morgan,” Father Daar said, taking Sadie by the arm now that she was free of Morgan. “We’ll build a fire, cook your catch, and then you and I will set our minds to convincing your wife that we all have many years left before we finally see heaven,” he added, walking her toward the sandy beach by the pool.

He looked back over his shoulder at Morgan and crackled with laughter. “Not that you have any chance of getting there yourself, warrior. They rarely allow pagans through the gates.”

Sadie didn’t know what surprised her the most, that the priest had called her husband a pagan or that he’d called him a warrior.

Morgan picked up his sword and settled it over his back, his glare fierce enough to fry Father Daar where he stood.

“You may begin the explaining without me, old man,” Morgan said. “Faol.Tàr as.

Falbh,” he added, waving the wolf toward the exit of the pool, then walking through the towering trees himself.

Staring at the spot where he’d disappeared, Sadie posed her question to the priest.

“What did he just say?”

“Tàr as?”Father Daar repeated. “It means ‘move off’ or ‘go.’ Andfalbh means ‘guard.’”

He started walking around the cathedral-like grotto and picked up small pieces of wood. “He’s set the wolf to guarding the entrance,” he said as he continued his work, putting the branches into a pile. He straightened and looked at her. “I told you befriending Faol would come in handy one day.”

Sadie put her hands on her hips and faced the priest. “So you’re saying this Maine wolf knows Gaelic?” she asked. “A language that’s been dead for hundreds of years?”

He sat down on the moss near the pile of branches he’d made and looked up at her. “It’s not dead, girl. Gaelic’s still spoken in some parts of Scotland.” He suddenly grinned.

“Now, watch,” he said, touching the branches with his skinny cane while he muttered some words under his breath.

The wood erupted into flames, and Sadie stepped back. She quickly stepped closer, glaring at the now crackling fire.

“That’s not magic,” she said. “Not in heaven. Anything’s possible here,” she said, waving at the tall granite walls.

Father Daar sighed loudly enough to be heard over the noise of the waterfall and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked up at her and patted a place beside him. “Come. Sit with me, Mercedes, so that I can explain what has happened to you.”

With a sigh of her own, Sadie sat down beside the crazy old priest and stared at the softly crackling fire.

“Do you remember my visit last week?” Daar asked, using his cane to push more wood onto the fire. “And your feet? Were the cuts not healed the next morning when you woke?”

“They were gone,” she admitted, frowning to herself.

“And were you not alive when that little miracle happened?”

She looked at him. “It wasn’t a miracle,” she disputed. “Miracles are big things that happen to deserving people.”

“And you’re not deserving?”

“That’s not the point. God wouldn’t trouble himself with small cuts on my feet. He has much more important things to worry about.”

Daar harrumphed and scrubbed his face with his hands again, shaking his head. He finally looked at her, his expression confounded. “The whole world is still sitting out there, Mercedes, just beyond those trees,” he said, pointing at where Faol and Morgan had disappeared. “Your valley, your mother and Callum, your two simple-minded friends, and the man who shot you. All are still there, all still waiting for you.”

Sadie looked toward the trees. She hadn’t even thought about trying to leave. “Then, if I’

m not really dead, will my scars return if I leave here?” she whispered. “Will I be ugly again?”

“Ya can’t be what you never were,” Daar snapped. He blew out a tired breath. “But no, the scars are gone for good.” He frowned. “Which will be hard to explain to your mother, I’m guessing. She’s a modern, too, and won’t be able to understand any better than you can.”

“What do you mean, ‘a modern’? You say that as if you and Morgan are ancient or something. And Morgan’s not in the military. So why did you call him a warrior?”

Daar kneaded the back of his neck and finished by scratching his beard. “Because that’s what he is. Or, rather, what he was,” he said. “I had a little mishap with the magic six years ago and brought Morgan eight hundred years forward in time.”

“Youwhat?”

He frowned at her incredulousness. “I made a mistake,” he said, lifting his hairy-white chin. “I was only wanting to bring Morgan’s brother, Greylen, forward, but nine other men came with him, including Callum and Ian and Morgan. And MacBain,” he added with a scowl.

“Callum?” Sadie squeaked. “Are you saying the man my mother is going to marry is like… like Morgan? That he’s old… and also a warrior?” Sadie scrambled to her feet and balled her hands into fists. “What are you saying?” she shouted.

Father Daar lifted his cane into the air and began muttering words softly to himself again. Sadie’s eyes widened as she saw the cane grow to nearly double its size and start to hum with gentle vibrations.

“Take hold of this, Mercedes,” Daar said, holding it out to her. “If ya want to understand, hold this, and I’ll show you.”

She stepped back. “No.”

“Aw, come on, girl,” he cajoled. “Where’s your spirit of adventure? Do ya not want to know who your husband truly is?”

She didn’t understand any of this. What he was saying was impossible. But her scars were gone, she was in a veritable rain forest that shouldn’t exist anywhere near Maine, and the old priest’s cane was now glowing like a finger of lightning.

Hesitantly, but with more curiosity than fear, Sadie reached out and took hold of the surprisingly cool cane.

Light entered her head, flashes of brilliance that should have blinded her. But she was able to see something slowly appear in her mind’s eye. A scene out of a picture book.

Men on horseback, carrying swords and dressed strangely. Actually, some of the men were naked. They were fighting a mighty battle.

She could smell the dust being kicked up by the trampling feet of the horses. She could hear the clash of the swords striking each other. Sadie immediately recognized Morgan.

And Callum. She could see Callum trying to unseat a man whose face was covered in paint. Lightning flashed over their heads. Thunder boomed. The very air around them became charged with the energy of a quickly descending storm.

A torrential rain suddenly blanketed the chaos, darkening her vision. There was an intense explosion of light, the detonation making Sadie flinch in surprise. She tightened her grip on the priest’s cane. Suddenly, there was only silent white light as pure as the center of the sun, muted spectrums of color shading the edges.

The men reappeared, no longer fighting but scattered in dazed disarray on an earth that was the same but different. It was more lush. Greener. There were buildings. Cars and trucks were zooming by.

Sadie looked for Morgan. He was first holding his head, covering his eyes with his hands, then suddenly patting his body as if he didn’t believe he existed. She cried out at the fear she saw on his face, the confusion, the very terror of what had happened to him.

Horses lay scattered around the men, dazed with terror and screaming, trying to stand.

Sadie watched Morgan run to one of them and recognized the horse he’d been riding the first day she’d met him.

“What’s its name?” she softly asked the priest standing and watching beside her in her mind’s eye.

“Gràdhag,” Daar answered. “It means ‘pet.’”

Sadie let go of the cane and stepped back. The vision left as mysteriously as it had come.

She turned and stared out over the still shimmering pool made by the waterfall.

“That’s why Morgan is afraid of thunderstorms,” she said. “He was caught in one and ripped from his home and brought… brought here.”

“Aye. He did not care for the journey,” Father Daar said from right beside her, also looking out at the waterfall. “Nor has he cared much for the new life he’s found himself living.”

He took hold of her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. “Until now, child. He’s found you, Mercedes. And he’s not going to let anything come between the two of you.

Not my magic, not the blackness visiting this valley, not even your own inability to believe. He’s said his vows before God and man and claimed you as his. You belong to each other now. So accept what I have shown you for the gift that it is.”

“Morgan called youdrùidh. What does that mean? Who are you?”

“I’m what your modern language would call a wizard, and I’m nearly fifteen hundred years old.”

“A wizard?” she repeated, taking a step back.

He frowned at her. “And a priest,” he said defensively. “And a hungry one at that,” he tacked on, looking toward where the pool spilled into the valley. He walked back to the fire and sat down again, working it back into flames.

Sadie stared at the cane he used as a poker. What he was saying, what she had just seen, it was… it was the stuff of fantasies and ancient legends that continued to survive despite modern science explaining it away.

But science couldn’t explain her missing scars or the very fact that she was alive right now. And neither could she. Her dead theory made more sense, but she hoped with all her heart that she was alive. She had a new baby sister coming soon, and she wanted to be here when she was born. She wanted to see her mother get married. She wanted to have babies of her own.

So, yes. She wanted to believe in the magic.

Morgan stepped through the towering trees just then and stopped and stared at her.

There were several trout hanging from his belt, his sword was still on his back, and if she looked hard enough, she could see that same warrior from the vision the priest had given her.

And Sadie knew then, no matter what means had brought them together, that she loved Morgan.

She launched herself into his arms, breaking into overjoyed laughter, confident that he would catch her and hold her safe—forever.

“We’re alive, Morgan.” She laughed into his startled face, which she couldn’t stop kissing over and over. “Wonderfully alive, thanks to a wizard’s magic.”

He held her so tightly that her last words were squeaked rather than spoken. He buried his face in her neck, his whole body trembling with what she suspected was relief.

“I swear you two spend more time cuddling than looking to practical matters,” Father Daar called from the fire. “Ya have a lifetime for that foolishness, Morgan. I want my supper.”

Still crushing her tightly to him, Morgan carried her over to the fire and set her down by the priest. He tore the trout from his belt and tossed them at Father Daar’s feet.

“Eat, then, old man,” Morgan said, darting a look at Sadie and then back at the priest. “I haven’t the time right now. I’ve got to go find our sniper before he finds us again.”

Sadie was standing before she finished gasping. “You will not! The man has a gun, and all you’ve got is that… that sword,” she said emphatically, waving a hand at the inadequate weapon sticking up past his head. “You’re staying right here.”

Morgan took hold of her shoulders and pinned her with his eyes. “As beautiful and warm as this place is, we cannot hide here forever,gràineag. We have to leave eventually, and we cannot do that until I’m sure we’ll be safe.”

He pulled her against him gently and cupped the back of her head into his shoulder. “I’

ll be careful, wife. He won’t even see me coming.”

“It—it’s not Dwayne and Harry,” she muttered into his shoulder, trying to wiggle back to look at him. But he wouldn’t loosen his hand. “Don’t hurt them. It’s someone else.”

“I know, Mercedes. I will not hurt them.” He finally leaned back to look at her, now holding her hair in his fist, his grip emphasizing his words. “In return, you must promise to stay here with Daar. You’ll be safe with thedrùidh.”

He was holding her so tightly she couldn’t even nod. His entire body was filled with tension.

“I’ll protect Father Daar,” she told him instead.

Father Daar snorted at her response.

The right corner of Morgan’s mouth curved in amusement. He kissed her soundly on the lips, then stepped back.

“Wait.” Sadie turned to the priest as she untied the leather cord she was still wearing.

“Father Daar. Give Morgan another cherrywood knot to take with him,” she said, handing the leather to the priest.

Father Daar clasped his cane to his chest protectively, fingering the empty leather cord now in his hand. “I can’t,” he said, darting a look from her to Morgan. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve only one decent-sized burl left that would have enough power to do any good,” he explained. “And if I take it off, my staff will be useless.”

“Then give him your whole cane,” Sadie insisted, reaching for it.