Girl
, she mouthed to James, who pumped the air and high-fived her. They had both bet against brothers Culley and Devlin, who had put their money on a boy.
“That’s fantastic. Congrats to all three of you.” She hurried up the trail and through the crowded farmyard until she could glimpse Connor and Zoey’s house. Sure enough, Birkie’s bright red truck was parked in front of the steps next to the Millers’ old tan Lincoln. “I’m so happy for you. Is Zoey okay?”
“Never better. She says hi by the way, and so do Birkie and Lowen. Zoey’s going to have a nap—”
It wasn’t hard to hear Zoey protesting in the background.
“Oh, all right,” sighed Connor. “She wants Aunt Kenzie to come over and introduce herself to the new arrival. And then
I’m
having a nap, even if no one else is.”
“On my way. James is with me, too.”
“No, he’s not,” said James. “He’s
way
ahead of you.”
He punched her in the arm and sprinted for the house with Kenzie hard on his heels.
Zoey finally did head off for a nap and Kenzie got temporary custody of her red-haired niece. She inhaled her soft baby scent and nuzzled her little wrinkly forehead, kissed her tiny fists.
“Looks good on you.” Connor leaned over and gave her a gentle squeeze, mindful of his tiny new daughter in her arms. It seemed a little strange to Kenzie—normally he’d indulge in a full-out bear hug, which often would devolve into a wrestling match. Changeling families tended to be very physical, and the Macleods were no exception. “You know, sis, you love kids so much, why aren’t you settling down with a family of your own? You oughta trade in those dusty old bones of yours for a mate.”
She rolled her eyes. She didn’t need her anthropology degree to know that it was the nature of both humans and Changelings who had found happiness themselves to automatically want everyone around them to experience it too.
Whether they wanted to or not.
It had been the same when James married Jillian, when their twins had been born, when Connor married Zoey, and now this. She also knew that it was well-intentioned—her brother adored his “little” sister—so she aimed for humor. “Just haven’t found a man that my big brother would approve of, that’s all. And my inner wolf is very picky.”
“I’m not telling you what to do ... Well, hell, I guess I am. I just hate to think of you being alone so much. I’ll bet there’s not another soul within twenty miles of you and your new dig site.”
Twenty-seven and a half miles actually, but she didn’t say so. “I’ll tell you what, if a man drops out of the sky there, I’ll be sure to date him.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he laughed, and headed upstairs to nap with Zoey.
Kenzie enjoyed walking around the house with her niece on her shoulder, yet she couldn’t stop thinking about Connor’s brotherly advice. As if he should talk—he’d been alone as long as she had until Zoey Tyler had arrived in their little northern town to take over the reins of Dunvegan’s weekly newspaper. Connor had known at once that she was his mate.
Known.
What would that be like? Kenzie had heard since she was very small that Changelings—or more correctly, their inner wolves—always recognized their
true
true
mates when they saw them. It had even happened to her oldest brother, James, and that was a flat-out miracle.
It had definitely
not
happened to her other brothers, twins Culley and Devlin. Not yet, at least. Although she couldn’t imagine Culley ever being serious enough to settle down, or picture Devlin looking up from his physics experiments long enough to notice a woman. Her only sister, Carly, was a different story. Years ago, she had been the first in the family to take a mate, marrying a Changeling named Jake after a courtship of barely a month. She confided later that she had wanted Jake and her inner wolf had simply accepted her choice. Knowing her sister’s headstrong and stubborn nature, Kenzie couldn’t imagine Carly’s inner wolf bothering to argue with her about anything.
As for herself, Kenzie was married to her work. Not because she’d planned it that way—well, not exactly—but hey, how many eligible Changelings did you run across in the middle of the Egyptian desert or the Chilean jungle? It was a good enough excuse to pull out and dust off at family gatherings anyway. She couldn’t expect her family to understand that there was something she had to do, something she felt she had to achieve before she could turn her attention to a mate. Her discoveries would have to be her children, because what she was looking for now just might ensure the future of all Changelings.
Which sounded rather grandiose, even if it
was
true. She nuzzled the baby as she wondered where her siblings found their courage. How did they manage to build families and bring children—
Changeling
children—into a human world that would not welcome them? Especially after what had happened to James—he’d lost his first wife and unborn baby to a murderer, a human who thought it was his calling to exterminate
werewolves
. In his grief, her oldest brother had run as a white wolf for three decades, determined never to walk on two legs again....
And then Jillian had come along.
Birkie often said that love changed everything. Kenzie didn’t agree—love changed the people involved. It didn’t change the world. The baby squirmed on her shoulder and Kenzie sighed. Changing the world was what she had to do.
Had to.
She pulled the blanket up and lightly covered the baby’s head, then wandered out to the front porch. The sky was bright now, robin’s egg blue with creamy streamers of clouds. There was dew on the purple irises and the orange and yellow daylilies that flanked the steps. Baskets of flowers hung from the porch eaves, cascading blossoms of mauve and blue. The railings groaned under an assortment of window boxes and brackets filled with pots of all sizes, nearly hidden by the flowers they contained. All James’s handiwork of course.
Kenzie shook her head in wonder. She knew all the forest’s plants by scent when she ran as a wolf. But in the wild, the plants looked after themselves—they needed nothing from her and she could just enjoy them. In human form, she couldn’t even keep a cactus alive. She whispered to the baby, “You’re
so
lucky I’m not your mom.”
“I see Connor’s being Mr. Sensitivity again.” Birkie waved a hand at her from the depths of a comfortable old recliner tucked amid some tall potted plants. Kenzie grinned, partly because she was glad to see her friend and partly because Birkie never failed to look impeccable. Even though she’d been up all night assisting with the delivery of a brand new Macleod, her tangerine pantsuit was crisp, her white hair tidily swept into a chignon, her makeup flawless. Perhaps it was a glamor—after all, Birkie was rumorailie was ed to have not just Fae blood but
royal
Fae blood—or perhaps her fashion acumen was a natural gift. Whatever it was, Kenzie knew she didn’t possess it, and ran a quick hand through her wavy hair in spite of herself. She hadn’t touched it since her shower and heaven only knew what it was doing.
“Connor just wants me to be as happy as he is, that’s all. And in his book, that means having what he has.”
Birkie reached up to play with the baby’s tiny fingers. “Well, he does have something pretty fabulous here.” She looked up at Kenzie’s face, suddenly intent. “You’ll have something fabulous too, dear. Something you truly want, very soon.”
The hair stood up on the back of Kenzie’s neck and her scalp prickled. Birkie often saw things, knew things before they happened.
Something I want ...
“Maybe I’ll find something exciting at my new dig?”
Birkie shook her head slowly. “What you need won’t be in the ground. But you’ll have to put away your fears to make room for it.” She rose from the chair and smoothed the bright fabric of her clothing. Her long-fingered hands, festooned with many silver rings and bracelets, appeared to brush away the remnants of her psychic vision as well. “Always easier said than done of course. People often hug their fears to them like teddy bears, even though they’re made of barbed wire instead of fluff. Human nature. Changeling nature too. Letting go of fear can be scarier than what you’re afraid of.”
“Fear serves a purpose. It can keep you safe.” Kenzie didn’t like the direction this conversation had taken.
“Not always.” Birkie put her hands on her hips and laughed at herself then. “And my
goodness
, I’m not sounding much better than Connor! What a serious topic we’ve gotten onto when we ought to be celebrating this amazing little addition to the family.” She bent and kissed the baby’s fingers. “Let’s have breakfast, shall we? It’s nearly noon and I’m famished. I made Zoey eat to keep up her strength—shoulda taken my own advice.”
Greatly relieved, Kenzie followed her friend inside. “Do you want to hold the baby while I make breakfast? You’ve probably been up all night.”
“Thanks honey, but I’m not tired enough to eat toaster waffles.”
“Hey, I can cook!”
Birkie just looked at her until Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I admit it, my culinary skills are limited to whatever can be made with boiling water, a toaster, or a microwave. But frozen waffles aren’t that bad.”
“Well, I guess they’ll keep you alive,” chuckled Birkie and patted her arm. “Oh, don’t feel bad, dear, you simply have other skills, that’s all. Being a top-drawer archaeologist takes up a lot of your time and attention—you were gone almost three years this last trip. Don’t think I saw you more than once every six months or so. And now that this gorgeous baby is finally here, I imagine you’ll be heading out all too soon to your next dig.”
“In a few days. I was just waiting for the big event before I left.” Kenzie paused and nuzzled the baby. Normally she would have started her new dig much earlier in the season, May at least. But she’d wanted to see her new niece or nephew. And the project she’d been on had encountered difficulties, taking longer than planned. “I’m glad I finished up at Monte Verde when I did. I was so afraid I’d miss this.”
“I imagine working in Chile is a lot different from working up north.”
“Won’t miss the snakes and the sv> es and piders, that’s for sure. But I’m afraid I won’t find any plant species this time that you don’t already have.” By day, Birkie was the preternaturally efficient receptionist at Connor’s clinic. In her off hours, however, she was a master of herbs and medicinal plants. Most of her home and its expansive grounds were lovingly devoted to their cultivation. Kenzie had delighted in keeping her friend well supplied with unique seeds and tubers over the years.
“That lemon verbena you brought me is growing like a weed in my greenhouse. The orchids, now, they’ll take a while. Might have blooms next year. Do you know that over a hundred plants are routinely used in the Chilean health-care system? I’m thinking about making a little educational trip one of these days.”
“How soon? Can it wait till I get back from this dig? I’ll only be gone a few months this time.”
“Well, I’m hardly going to go off and leave Connor just yet. We’ll see how things are when you’re finished with your project. Sounds like fun though, just like when we went to Scotland together a couple years ago.”
Kenzie hadn’t expected that trip to be so much fun. She’d never intended to return to her home country, even for a visit. But then her parents had moved to Skye, and Birkie had been a willing travel companion, so how could she say no? As it turned out, they’d had a blast. And thankfully no one commented on the fact that Kenzie hadn’t gone near the Caledonian forest where their family home had once stood.
Birkie pulled out a skillet. “Omelet or scrambled?”
“Are you talking one of your Kitchen Sink Omelets?” Birkie’s creation was so named because everything was in it
but
the proverbial fixture. “Because the answer is absolutely yes—if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, honey. I was planning to make one for myself. Saw a little ham in the fridge earlier. Just pass me that bell pepper on the windowsill there.”
Kenzie grabbed the bright red fruit, then took a breath. “Birkie? You know what you said about
fear
a little while ago?”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, dear. You know how these things just come over me.”
“No, no, I was wondering ... well, I had the dream last night.”
Birkie didn’t take her eyes off the onion she was chopping, but Kenzie saw her brows go up. “Now there’s an interesting thing. It’s been a mighty long time, hasn’t it?”
“The dream’s popped up once in a while when I’ve been really stressed, but I haven’t had it in years and years. Think it means something?”
“Honey, everything means
something
.”
Anya’s running shoes made little sound on the soft forest floor as she raced along a game trail, trying desperately to elude her pursuers. Her pink shorts and T-shirt were torn by the branches, there were scratches on her legs and arms from the wild roses and devil’s club bushes. Still she ran on, ran as her mother had told her to do.