Calum snorted. “The one where you shut me out of my own bed.”
She gasped. “The horror.” Then she had the nerve to laugh.
“‘Twas a long courtship,” he said sternly. Then he shot her that smoldering look that she’d referred to. “But you came around.”
“I hope I didn’t cave too fast.”
He cleared his throat. Cave too fast wasn’t even close. “It was five long, lonely, frustratingly punishing months.”
“No! You weren’t the master of seduction then?”
“It was a long time ago, Beth.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Wipe that smirk from your pretty face, or I’ll not tell you the rest.”
“Oh, you’ll tell me Mister I’ve-Never-Had-The-Upper-Hand-On-My-Wee-Wife.”
He laughed. She was right on that mark. There’d always been a fire in her that flared under pressure and, while he’d been scorched a few times, he’d learned not to get burned.
“We had a remarkable life together,
m’eudail
. Ours was the envy of every man and woman we knew and those we didn’t, and it wasn’t for fortune, nor renown, but was for the love between us. You took my breath away each time I saw you till the day you died, and it didn’t stop then.”
She picked up his hand and kissed it. “You say all the right things.”
“You sacrificed your life for us,
m’eudail,
for me and our children.”
He surprised her with that one.
“Did I?”
“I don’t know why you’re surprised. I only wish your need to come to the aid of others was not at risk to yourself. When you love someone, Bethia, you love them fierce.”
“Why do you call me Bethia?”
“It is your soul name. It’s how I think of you when I think you mine.”
“Oh,” she said in that weak way she did when he’d moved her. She slid closer to him, and he was relieved to know she wanted him to think it, to claim her as his. God knew he loved the fire in her, but he loved to see it quelled just as much.
“We were living in Rokesburg when the pestilence hit nearby in Kelso. You were ahead of your time. You rallied the people to strengthen their health. ‘Twas a sensible plan, and some even drank the tonics you took door–to–door. Heavens knows we did. Like I said, you were a rare lass. You’d always been interested in herbals and whenever you came upon another as fascinated as yourself, you’d ask questions upon questions. I knew better than to disturb you. I didn’t say it often enough, but I admired you,
m’eudail
. You were deeply connected to your intuitive powers, you made fine distinctions in judgments, and you always kept a clear head.”
As he talked, he watched her assimilate this knowledge, and he thought it strange that with the passing of so much time she seemed younger now than she had then.
“A season passed before one from our clan took ill. You bade me go and talk to the survivors, to learn how it was that they lived. Then you mixed herbs, and you made medicines. When our boy took ill, you fought for him, lass. Then I was sick. And you were on your own, tending us, the garden, the ale house as you could.”
“One of the desperate folk who’d ridiculed your tonics early on tried to steal the medicine for her family, and there was naught that I could do. You didn’t sleep, but worked to make enough of your brew for all who were sick. You nursed us, you doctored us, and you saved many of us. And then, the vile sickness took you, and in your weakened state, I couldn’t save you.”
A swell took his eyes. So many years ago, and it was still a wrenching memory. Knowing that she lived, seeing her eyes shining directly into his, didn’t lessen the emotion transferred somehow to the cells of his flesh — the devastation of his loss. He now saw how the fear of losing her had played forward into each life thereafter. Perhaps he had become a touch overly protective.
“Before you died, you pledged your love to me until the end of time. I made the same pledge, and here we are,
m’eudail
, and as I look at you I pray we are nowhere close to the end of time.”
She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close, dropping her head to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin lightly on her head. She is so young again, he thought, remembering how the bearing of children changes a woman, remembering what he could of changes. The memories didn’t come as clear as they had a week ago. But the love was there, fierce as it had always been. That, he remembered.
Love for him shone in her eyes. Lovemaking had indeed secured the bond between them. He kissed the top of her head and smiled at her soft sigh. Now he could get on with saving her hide.
They climbed down the mountain later that afternoon. Calum kissed Beth at the front door of their rustic retreat then went around back to split wood for a fire. She went inside to make tea. After a few minutes, she heard a noise and wondered what it was, then laughed when she noticed the whistling kettle — she’d been sidetracked by happiness. Envisioning the rest of her life as a repeat of the last few days was bliss. And why couldn’t she have bliss?
Oh, right — life. Sooner, not later they’d have to climb the rest of the way down the mountain and participate in the real world where she’d been accused of a terrible crime.
She had to remember she’d done nothing wrong. Now that they believed Matthew and Bruce were the culprits, she felt confident in approaching the police. Calum tended to be overprotective, so she would be firm when she told him her decision, yet she wouldn’t scoff at 200 pounds of muscle–ripped warrior with supernatural contacts.
Beth tossed a chamomile tea bag into her cup. Outside, the rhythm of wood splitting pealed through the mountain. Tea in hand, she went out to join him. He looked up as she walked off the deck toward him. His bare back glistened in the last of the sun. Oh nice, she thought, but it was his sensuous smile that tumbled erotically through her womb.
“Sit down,
m’eudail
, I’m nearly finished.”
“Are you expecting a hard winter?” On one side lay a collection of dead wood, on the other, a neatly stacked pile.”
He snorted. “Old habit, I guess.” But he kept on, steadying another log for the blade. “What are you thinking about, lass?”
She’d been thinking about not wanting to use that key. “I was thinking what a nuisance it is being a wanted jewel thief.”
A low rumble of exertion sounded as the blade sliced the piece in two. “Nuisance is it? Hmmph. I don’t want you to worry. I will handle it. I give you my word.” His arms swept up in an arc, splitting the half to quarters. Put herself in those hands? Okay, she could do that. He let the ax drop and then caught it deftly repositioning his grip.
“I know you’ll be wanting to talk with your father, but I won’t risk you being recognized until I’m sure you’re out of harm’s way. I will invoke Finn to get off the mountain. But I’ll go alone. You’ll stay here safe.”
“I don’t think so, Calum.” This was no good. They didn’t need Finn, what they needed was the car. She was the one who had to go.
He rested the ax blade on the stump and regarded her. “I’ll come back for you, lass.”
“That wasn’t my concern. I do need to talk to my dad. It’s not as if there’ll be a posse waiting for us, no one knows where we are. I’m going with you, Calum.”
“No.” He picked up another piece of wood and brought the blade down with a crack.
Beth stood up and took two steps closer. “No?”
“It’s too risky and for what? Tell me how I may contact your father, and I will allay his fears and get caught up on the news. I will also check on a few particulars.”
“But you suggested we go to town together earlier. Why are you so concerned now?”
“I only made that suggestion to confirm there was no town. I didn’t intend to let you be seen. News will have travelled by now.”
“I am not staying here alone, waiting and wondering what the heck’s going on.”
One sandy brow rose. “You’ve little choice, as I’ll not take you with me. Matthew had you in his hands the last time I let you out of my sight. I’m not taking that chance again. You’ll stay here — safe.”
“Of all the outdated chauvinistic attitudes! Who do you think you are, telling me where I’ll stay? I’ll do what I like, Mister-Stuck-In-The-First-Century. Times have changed, Bucko. Women no longer take orders from men.”
He set the ax down. Gone was the ever present ardent expression. She took a step back.
“I’m not ordering you, Beth, not yet. I’ve a gut feeling that you should stay here. I only wish you had a care for your own safety, and like I told you before, take one step toward hell–fire and you’re over my shoulder. And don’t,” he added in a low growl, “call me Bucko.”
Beth let go a frustrated shriek. “Don’t you threaten me with your brawn. You get your way because you’re bigger than me? I don’t think so.”
“It’s reality,” he countered. “Matthew is bigger than you, so is Popeye and the police. You don’t know how to defend yourself, and you don’t seriously understand what men are capable of.”
“I know
your
capabilities. You’ve threatened, you’ve manhandled, and you’ve held me down and taken what you wanted.”
Calum took a step forward. Beth took one back, averting the sight of his bared teeth. “Don’t think to degrade me,” he said. “I would never dishonour you.”
She knew it was true, but she was past admitting it. He could order her or threaten her, anything short of tying her down. She had the key, and she had every intention of using it. The knowledge came out as a wicked smile that flashed back to Calum’s narrowed eyes.
“I’ll take my tea elsewhere.” She turned her back on him. The blade sounded a crack that likely went clear through the stump. She flinched as she reached the cabin.
• • •
“Bloody woman,” Calum growled, steadying a piece of wood the girth of his thigh. He raised the ax and swung in full fury. A thundering crack peeled through the forest as the wood fractured and fell to the ground.
Stuck in the first century. Hardly. Little could he help it if she didn’t approve his progress as a man. He’d moved through time just as she had. Had he not proven it so the other day? He’d not walloped her arse like he’d wanted to. And look where it had gotten him. How was that progress? He’d like to get her back over his knee right about now, obdurate hellion, and for the record, that was a trait of Beth’s he didn’t pine for.
What did she think his brawn was good for if not to protect her? And if she thought he wouldn’t use it against her, she’d be sorely mistaken. Bloody hell. Hadn’t she noticed he loved to manhandle her, that it turned him on to no end to rouse her spirit that way? He snatched a log from the ground and julienned it like a carrot.
He’d seen the look on Matthew’s face after that car door closed on Beth. Calum knew that look, and it bore no resemblance to a man bent on protecting his woman. Matthew was dangerous. Unease crawled up the nape of his neck as if the man was close.
He’d held her down and taken what he wanted? Calum had no desire to dominate Beth or any other woman
that
way. Not in any bloody lifetime — that reeked of force he would never use on a woman. Hold her down and
give
her what she wanted — that he would do, and he’d challenge her to admit she didn’t crave it. There was a gross dissimilarity between rousing a spirit and crushing it, and she’d do well to see the difference.
It hadn’t been his intent to invoke Finn yet. He wanted another day with Beth, though at that particular moment his amorous mood had taken a sharp nosedive.
The wood clapped into place as he stacked it behind a good measure yet to be cut. Perhaps when the ground lay clear, he’d have worked off sufficient frustration to talk sense into the lass without losing his good temper.
From the far side of the cabin, Calum heard the Mercedes’ engine rev. Apparently Beth hadn’t had her fill of the mountain yet today. So be it. It’d do them both good if her steam dissipated in a direction he wasn’t standing in. After all, she couldn’t go far. Calum hauled a length of hardwood into position and got to work.
• • •
Bloody man! It was just like him to throw his weight around expecting her to topple to his command. Not this time … “Bucko!”
Beth took the crimson key from the glove box, slipped it into the ignition and hit the gas. She half expected Calum to tackle the car, but he didn’t know she could leave Finn’s world. Ha! One didn’t have to be a warrior to reign triumphant.
As if she’d pop into place in the grocery store, where Matthew or the police would have tracked her and stood waiting for four days ready to snatch her back. The odds were ridiculously in her favour that she could phone her father and pick up a newspaper without being recognized. And it occurred to her, Calum would ask where she got the newspaper from. She could make him guess — that way she’d not have told him — and having technically followed Finn’s rules, the key would still work. Besides, he had a way of invoking the immortal.
She knew Calum had a caveman mentality about protecting her. As infuriating as it was to be on the receiving end of his obstinacy, she secretly conceded the thoroughly feminine strand in her that rooted for the warrior in him. That was the strand that savoured being treasured and traitorously relished it when he held her still and had his way — her insides trembled their acquiescence at the thought. Beth sighed. She was hopelessly in love with the warrior.
But that didn’t mean he could order her around. She was open to suggestions, she would consider options, but when it came down to deciding how best to safeguard herself,
she
would rule.
“Why not use your home equity to take that dream vacation you’ve longed for?”
Beth jumped in her seat as her heart slammed against her ribcage. Who said that?
“Or help your family. Or pay off debts.”
The radio. She recognized the familiar ad for Brown’s Financial Services. Her heart resumed a normal pace as she realized she was back in the real world. That had been easy. The key had worked without even a ripple or a gust of wind or one measly earth shatter. She passed a road sign indicating she was back on Highway 89.