Blood Magick (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy #3)(68)

“I can’t decide which is my favorite, but this one’s leading the charge.” Iona held up a bold red cake for Mrs. Baker to sniff.

“That’s lovely. I’m going to treat myself to one of these as a reward for not knocking himself unconscious with a skillet.”

“You deserve it.”

“A bit of the sniffles and men are more work than a brood of babies. You’ll be finding that out for yourself soon enough, with the wedding coming.”

“I’m hoping to get a good skillet as a wedding gift,” Iona said, and made Mrs. Baker laugh until she wheezed.

Accepting the invitation, she took off her coat, her scarf, and settled herself by the fire. “And here’s your Kathel—it’s a fine thing, a dog, a fire, a cup of tea. I thought I saw him when I started over, prowling along the edge of the woods, even called out a greeting to him before I saw it wasn’t our Kathel at all. A big black dog for certain, and for a moment I thought: Well, God in heaven, that’s a wolf. Then it was gone.” She snapped her fingers. “Old eyes, I imagine, playing tricks.”

After a quick glance at Iona, Branna brought over tea and biscuits. “A stray perhaps. Have you seen it before?”

“I haven’t, no, and hope not to again. It gave me gooseflesh, I admit, when it turned its head toward me after I called out, thinking it was Kathel. I nearly turned round and went back inside—which should prove it gave me the shivers, as inside I’ve Mr. Baker’s whining.

“Oh, Branna, what a treat! I couldn’t be more grateful.”

“You’re very welcome. I’ve a tonic you could add to Mr. Baker’s tea. It’s good for what troubles him, and will help him sleep.”

“Name your price.”

They entertained Mrs. Baker, rang up the sale of tea and tonic, and gave the pretty soap as a gift. And Branna sent Kathel out with her, to be certain she got home safe.

“Did he show himself to her,” Iona said the minute they were alone, “or is his . . . presence—would that be it—just more tangible?”

“I’m wondering if he got careless, as that’s another possibility. Prowling around as she said, hoping to trouble us, and he didn’t shadow himself from others. As he doesn’t want the attention of others, I think it was carelessness.”

“He’s impatient.”

“It may be, but he’ll just have to wait until we’re ready. I’m going to finish this restorative, then we’ll take ourselves off. We’ll have that ride.”

“You’re hoping he’ll take a run at us.”

“I’m not hoping he won’t.” Branna lifted her chin in defiance. “I’d like to give him a taste of what two women of power can do.”

? ? ?

BRANNA WASN’T DISAPPOINTED FIN HAD BUSINESS ELSEWHERE. If he’d been at home or in the stables, he wouldn’t have cared for the idea of her and Iona going out at all, or would have insisted on going with them.

She wore riding boots she hadn’t put on in years, and had to admit it felt good. And what felt even better was saddling Aine herself.

“We don’t know each other well as yet, so I hope you’ll let Iona know if you’ve any problems with me.” She took a moment to come around the filly’s head, stroke her cheeks, look into her eyes.

“He’d have wanted you for your beauty and grace alone, for you have both in full measure. But he sensed you were for me, and I for you. If that’s the way of it, I’ll do my best for you. That’s an oath. I made this for you today,” she added, and braided a charm into Aine’s mane with a bright red ribbon. “For protection, as mine or not, I’ll protect you.”

“She thinks you’re nearly as pretty as she is,” Iona told Branna.

With a laugh, Branna stepped over to adjust the stirrups to her liking. “Now then that’s a fine compliment.”

“With you on her back, you’ll make a picture—which is something she’s happy to make for Alastar.”

“Let’s make one then.” With Iona she led the horses out of the stables, vaulted into the saddle as if it had been only yesterday.

“Do we have a plan?” Iona leaned over the saddle to pat Alastar’s neck.

“Sometimes it’s best to take things as they come.”

They walked to the road, with Kathel and Bugs prancing along with them.

“I can’t call the hawk,” Iona said.

“They’ll come if needed. Though that would’ve been a thought, wouldn’t it, to ride out with all the guides. What do you say to a canter?”

“I say yay.”

Graceful, Branna thought again when Aine responded and broke into a bright canter. And flirtatious, Branna added, as she didn’t need to have Iona’s gift to interpret the way Aine tossed her mane.

She glanced back, saw that the faithful Kathel slowed his own pace to stay with Bugs, felt her lips curve at the happiness beaming from both of them.

So she let herself just enjoy.

The cool air, with a sharpness in it that told her more snow would come. The scent of the trees and horses, the steady beat of hooves.

Maybe she had taken too little time for too long a time if a little canter down the road brought her such a lift in spirit.