To Ride A Púca (31 page)

The thought of not seeing him again made her stomach twist. “But ye’ll come by tomorrow?”

“
Tá
, can ye meet me here, at the edge of the woods?”

He raised her hand and pressed his full lips to the back of it. The sensation of his soft lips, combined with the tingling of his power that spilled onto her, made her shiver. He laughed against her skin, sending a whole new wonderful sensation dancing along her nerves.

Letting go, he took a step back toward the forest. “Until tomorrow then.”

Their power clung together like two vines that refused to be separated. How he kept walking against that pull, Neala couldn’t fathom. From the strain on his face it was clear it wasn’t easy.

“Until tomorrow,” she echoed.

A breath shuddered from her as Donal got far enough away that their power released its hold on one another. The urge to run after him was so strong she almost gave in, but the sound of Tyr working out kept her rooted to the spot. First thing was first.

27

No matter what she said, Tyr refused to speak to her. For at least a candlemark she had begged him to let her explain but he had refused. Eventually had had locked himself in his room. Only when her parents returned had she given up.

Later that night Bren came to her window and begged for forgiveness, saying he only wanted to bond with her, not dishonor her. Then he had gone on about how if she would only lie with him, he was sure they would bond. She had closed the shutters on him. There was too much on her mind to deal with him.

Neala woke feeling exhausted. Sleep had been elusive at best. Crawling out of bed, she realized the feel of Bren’s energy outside her window was gone. Relief and disappointment fought within her. Relief quickly won. A day without drama sounded like exactly what she needed. Besides, she was really hoping Donal would come by. The desire to get to know him better was eating at her, and she wanted to hear more about his and her brother’s battles up North.

She stepped out of her room and couldn’t feel Tyr’s energy. There were no sounds or scents of breakfast being cooked. That was odd. Her da was nowhere to be seen and her ma was packing food into a basket.

“What’s going on, ma?” Neala asked.

Cecily turned to her, brushing a loose strand of hair from her wide eyes as she did. The fear that contorted her face and suppressed her power sent a chill through Neala.

“The clan elders have called a meetin’. Yer da and I have to go.”

 “About what?” Neala asked.

Cecily turned back to continue packing the basket but Neala wasn’t fooled. She knew she was only doing it so she didn’t have to look at her. The tense feel of her energy was not encouraging.

“Nothin’ ye need to worry yerself about. We need ye to take care of the chores while we’re gone. We may not be back before moonrise.”

She picked up the basket and started for the door. Neala was forced to follow her or be left behind.

“Ye look plenty worried. I should go with ye. This concerns me too,” she said.

Cecily walked across the damp grass as fast as her legs could go without breaking into a run. She went straight for the lean-to where Ardal was hitching the geldings to the cart. Neala had to fight back the impulse to lash out with her power. There was little she hated more than being ignored. Breaking into a sprint, she reached her da’s side before her ma could.

“Da, surely ye’ll see reason. I should go with ye,” she said.

Her da wouldn’t look up from the harness straps. “No. We need you to stay here and take care of the animals,” he said.

Neala’s power snapped and popped around her in response to her anger. It was getting difficult to hold it back.

“I’m not a child anymore. If something is going on I deserve to know,” she said.

Still he wouldn’t look up. Before she could stop it Neala’s power lashed out and shoved at her da. It wasn’t much, just enough to move his shoulder and make him pay attention to her. Concern etched deep wrinkles into his brow and cheeks. Anger she had been prepared for, wanted even, but not concern.

“You’re me child,” he said in a thick voice that tugged at her heart.

She pushed the feeling aside and squared her shoulders. There was no way she was going to let him guilt her out of this.

“I have a right to know what’s going on,” she said.

Her ma shook her head but said nothing as she climbed into the seat of the cart. Nervous energy touched Neala a moment before her da’s hand settled on her shoulder.

“And ye will. We have to find that out at the meetin’. When we get home we’ll sit down and talk with ye about it,” he said.

Not giving her a chance to respond, he turned and climbed into the seat next to Cecily. He tried to give Neala a smile but it looked more like a painful grimace. Cecily took up the reins and fixed Neala with a haunted look that was as cold as the grave.

“Be careful Neala. If anyone comes, ye hide. There isn’t anythin’ on this farm that is worth your life,” she said.

Neala was struck silent for a moment. What an odd thing for her ma to say. Whatever was going on had to be bad. That wasn’t the only odd thing though. Tyr hadn’t shown up during the whole argument. The horses responded to the slap of the reins by picking up a brisk walk. As the cart rolled by her Neala looked around for Tyr.

“Where is Tyr?” she called after them.

Ardal glanced back at her. “He left to meet up with his people. There’s a note on the kitchen table,” he said.

Dread crawled its way up Neala’s spine. He had left without saying goodbye. Sure it was probably to keep his people from coming here, but he was gone, really gone. That hurt a lot more than she was prepared for.

28

Neala worked the handle of the well pump a few times and let the water run so she could put her head under it. In only a few hours, the sun had grown hot enough to burn off the clouds and make her sweat through her tunic. The water cooled her as it saturated her hair and washed the heat of the morning away.

She didn’t want to run out of things to do. Every time she did she reread Tyr’s letter. He had left to protect her—he said—so his father wouldn’t come and hurt her family. He was going to try and lead them away if he could. There had been other parts that were harder to read, parts about how he cared for her and would never forget her. The worst part though was how he apologized for being a Dane and said he wished he could have been anything but an invader to her.

Something pulled at her with the force of the Irish Sea undertow, an energy that compelled her toward the forest. Flinging wet hair back over her shoulders, Neala stood and turned toward the energy. From the wild and breathtaking feel of the power, she knew it was Donal in an instant. It was all she could do to keep her pace at a walk toward the forest. Her legs ached from resisting the urge to run. She didn’t want to seem too eager to see him. Turmoil boiled within her over how fast she had developed feelings for Donal. That combined with her confused feelings for Tyr and Bren, were enough to keep her pace at a walk.

With each stride of his long legs, her heart beat faster. In leather breeches and a green tunic that contrasted beautifully against his dark skin, he looked just as amazing as he had in only short drawers. He held his hands behind his back which pulled his tunic tight across his broad chest, accentuating the muscles. Then again, maybe that was because she wanted to see him so badly that he would look good in anything.

It still shocked her that she had become so completely attached to him so quickly. But then, she supposed that’s what pair bonding did. She didn’t understand it yet, but she knew what she felt was real.

Though she wanted desperately to throw herself into his arms, she resisted. Things were complicated enough without her acting like a love-sick lass over a man she had just met.

“Sorry I’m late, I had a bit of business to attend to,” he said.

He brought his arms around from behind his back and within his hands was a basket of blackberries.

Her mouth started to water at the very sight of them. Smiling, she accepted the basket. “They’re me favorite, thank ye.”

“Tis the least I could do for being late.”

The smile that he gave her was worth the wait and then some.

“No worries, I’m glad ye made it. But ye’re forever catchin’ me a sweaty mess. Ye make it hard for a girl to impress ye,” she teased.

Eyes widening, Donal looked her up and down. Neala was suddenly very aware of just how wet her tunic was and how much it was clinging to her chest. “I beg to differ. Besides, ye look mighty fine when ye’re covered in sweat.”

She laughed and slapped at his huge bicep. “Donal!”

Flattered though she was, part of her couldn’t help but recall how the only time Bren had complimented her looks was when she was wearing a beautiful dress.

They turned and started back toward the barn, pausing at the house so she could set the basket of blackberries on the porch railing.

“So, if I’m not intrudin’, may I ask what business ye had?” she asked.

One of his dark eyebrows went up. “The Orders are all abuzz about the Danes advancing inland. I decided to eavesdrop on one of the Clan meetings.”

“And did ye learn anythin’?” she asked, unable to keep the eagerness from her tone.

“
Tá
. How about I help you finish up yer work while I tell ye all about it?” he asked.  

Neala shook her head and veered off toward the barn. “All right, but ye have to promise to let me make ye lunch afterward,” she said.

“It’s a deal.”

They cleaned the stalls, hauled in water, and picked vegetables for lunch. All the while Donal filled her in on how nervous the clan members were getting and how they were talking about either taking action or fleeing. Some had already started to leave he said. Donal had heard them discuss turning over what druids they knew about to the Danes to help save their villages and spare their clans from having to fight. As infuriating as it was, this didn’t surprise Neala. They had been turning druids over to the crusaders for years now.

During lunch the conversation shifted to more stories about Donal’s time spent with her brother. The subject of the bonding was something Donal was careful to avoid and Neala didn’t press the issue. She wasn’t quite ready to talk about it anyway. Nor could she bring herself to ask him to finish the sentence that Tyr had interrupted yesterday. They’d said they were going to take it slow and that was exactly what she intended to do.

Once they were finished with lunch she walked him back outside. A group of fairies that had gathered on the porch railing flocked around Donal. The sound of their strange language filled the air, much like wind chimes made from loch reeds. It was a lovely sound, like music. They landed upon his shoulders and played with his hair, surrounding him in a rainbow of colorful wings. He smiled at them as if used to their attention, then made a soft whistling sound. They circled him a few times, gathered together, and disappeared in a blink.

“They like ye, that’s a good sign,” Neala said.

Taking her hand in his, Donal smiled. “I like them too. Sadly, I should be going, there’s somethin’ I have to take care of,” he said.

The touch of his hand made her heart want to speed up, but his words made it drop. She knew the visit had to come to an end, but she was hoping to drag it out a bit longer at least.

“Must ye?”

He stepped closer, their chests nearly touching. His breath smelled of honey and mint tea and she wondered if his tongue would taste of it. The temptation to find out was too much, she had to look down. Her mind may want to take it slow, but her instincts certainly didn’t.

“Unfortunately, I must. But I’ll try to come see ye later today, if ye would like,” he said.

She looked up into his deep green eyes only inches from her own. “I would.”

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and she blinked long and slow. She ached to lean into him and taste his lips. The longing in his eyes reflected her own. His energy pulled on hers as he took a step back, spun, and stepped off the porch. So slow it was painful in a wonderfully tantalizing way, his hand pulled from hers as he walked backwards. There was a playful twinkle in his eyes and a half smile upon his lips.

He’d been like that all day, a total gentleman in every way.

Letting out a breath, Neala shook her head and leaned against the porch rail as she watched him leave. Several times, he spun around and walked backwards, smiling as he watched her. All too soon the forest swallowed him up.

“May the Tuatha help me,” Neala murmured.

The fairies returned in flash of color and alighted upon the railing near her arms.

“What am I doing, me friends?” Neala asked them.

Their unintelligible voices chimed in her ears as they flittered around her in excited patterns. They were smiling as they practically danced. They seemed happy. If only she could live such a simple life.

The sound of hoof beats drew her from her reverie, causing her to stand up and grip the railing tight. The fairies disappeared. Should she go for her sword? It sounded like only one horse. Before she could decide whether or not to arm herself, Bren trotted out of the forest on a big red cob horse. His brown hair stood up in wild disarray and his cheeks were red. Sweat darkened his horse’s chest. He pulled it to a stop at the water trough and dropped from its back while it drank deeply.

He ran to her but hesitated a few feet away, as if he wasn’t sure if he should touch her. She felt too awkward to close the distance. They had both said things they shouldn’t have said, and things were different now. His eyes were wide with fear and his power pulsed as if he was concentrating hard on containing it.

“Bren, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed hard and his eyes moved slowly down her body to fix at a point on the ground. Even now, after everything that had happened and been said between them, he couldn’t hide his lust. The heat of anger started to burn through Neala. Did he not respect her at all?