“Seriously? You planned this whole thing?” Odin asked, his eyes glazed. “How—how could you have possibly known I would do this?”
Clio held her hands out, quieting Odin. “The humans are freezing, literally. So let’s finish our discussion back at Plateau where we have a New Year’s Party planned for Jake and Meredith, full of surprises. We’ll regroup back in Plateau.”
Then with a snap, both she and her sister disappeared.
“I hate when she does that,” Odin complained.
Coyote cracked a lopsided smile. “But I love the chase.” He glanced over at Meredith, his dark gaze softening. “If I thought I had half a chance with you, I wouldn’t give in to the chase.”
Rage poured through Jake, and he felt Meredith hold onto him tightly, probably aware he’d made a threatening move toward the god. Coyote merely shrugged good naturedly, smiling the whole bloody time. Lifting his palms in surrender, he said, “That girl’s special. Feisty little thing, full of spirit. You better take good care of her.”
“I will,” Jake growled.
Coyote nodded thoughtfully. “I think you will too.” Then he turned and started running so fast he became a blur, but for a moment Jake thought he saw a coyote grinning back at him.
“Ach,” Odin grated. “I hate when they leave me behind. This is why I kidnapped you.” He turned to Jake, attempted to pat him on the shoulder, to which Jake gave him an unmitigated scowl. Odin shrugged much like Coyote had. “No hard feelings?”
“No hard feelings?” Jake could barely spit out the words.
Odin grimaced. “Okay then.” He swallowed and looked down at one of his hands as if inspecting for wounds. “Ye know, ye were one of my favorites.” His accent shifted to sounding more akin to...Hebrides—Scandinavian and Gaelic slurred into each other.
“What?” Jake asked, not knowing what the god was referring to.
Odin looked up, swallowing again, needing to clear his throat a few times before he began. “Ye were one of my favorites. Still are, as a matter of fact. ‘Tis the real reason why I stole ye. I have a fondness for ye. I remember ye’re hope when ye were a lad. Ye had such strong faith for better days to come. All I wanted was to give ye that kind of faith again. To give ye hope, as ye had given me for all yer life. Jacob Emerich Cameron, ye inspired me so as the years passed. Yer striving for justice, for good, was—is admirable. I’ve loved watchin’ ye grow into a man, Jake. Has been an honor, it has.”
Jake had to swallow himself. Before his eyes, Odin shifted into the old man he’d always fantasized he’d wanted as a father with a long white beard and too many laughing wrinkles to count.
The old version of Odin smiled. “I’m so proud of ye, son. So proud.”
Jake’s heart nearly burst from the compliment, never even knowing how much he craved to hear those words from a father figure.
Then Odin shifted again, looking as young as Jake. Nodding, he said, “I’ll always be watchin’ ye, laddie. May ye have a blessed Hogmanay.” He took a deep breath. “A good, good New Year to one and all and many may ye see!” He’d pronounced good as, “guid, guid.” Odin then reached a hand up to a suddenly materialized rope. Catching hold of it, he hefted himself off the ground, then Jake’s gaze followed the rope. In the air, hovering above them was a long boat, complete with long-bearded oarsmen hefting the Norse god up. As soon as Odin was on board, a whip snapped from above, and the boat stormed through the gray sky and out of sight.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Jake whispered, feeling his heart grow and warm almost as much as when he’d first held Meredith.
Through the frozen sky, from whence the long boat had disappeared, a loud laugh could be heard that sounded a lot like, “Ho-ho-ho-ho!”
“If I hadn’t’ve seen it, I never would have believed it,” Will said.
Immediately, the town of Butte restarted again, everyone moving, Bruisner moaning in agony, horses trotting close, and steering around the scene in the middle of the street.
Erva huffed. “That was amazing, but I suppose, with the muses and gods leaving, it means we have to find our own way to Plateau, unless you know of another way to get back?”
Will shook his head. “No, the muses sent me here without a way to return home.”
“Those conniving little bi—”
Will covered his wife’s lips. “Darling.” He smiled down at her with an arched black brow.
Just the one word, and Erva smiled immediately. Through his fingers she said, “Then again, I’d like to take a slow train ride with you...all the rocking...makes for a nice—”
Will kissed Erva, heatedly, but quickly pulled away, grimacing at Jake and Meredith. “Sorry. I—I suppose I’ll purchase train tickets for us.”
“What—what happened? Where did Sheriff Henderson go?” Jake turned when hearing the cracked voice of Phyllis.
“Make that a ticket for her too,” Meredith pointed with her face toward the dirty blonde girl, her tattered clothes barely hanging on. Meredith’s face pinched, and she blinked rapidly before saying, “She saved my life. She’s coming with us.”
A
fter
settling Phyllis into bed, Meredith and Jake decided to venture into town although it was very late, to see what the muses and gods had in store. They’d discussed staying with Phyllis instead of going into Plateau. They worried about their new charge. After all, the girl had slept the whole train ride. And she kept sleeping too, even after Jake had carried her into Meredith’s warm cabin and placed her on the bed. Her lids had fluttered, indicating she wasn’t...well, she wasn’t dead. Meredith had tucked her in, the girl barely conscious, but awake enough to croak, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Then she’d held onto Meredith’s hand.
When Meredith looked down at the adolescent in her own bed, smudged with dirt and fatigued to the bone, she couldn’t help but instantly love her. Kissing Phyllis’s forehead, feeling for a fever through her lips, it had been the most maternal thing Meredith had ever done. And she’d loved doing it, relished in taking care of the girl. She didn’t know what it was about Phyllis, although the fact that she had saved her life was incredible, but it felt as if Phyllis were destined to come back to Plateau with her, fated to be her new friend. Even though Meredith never subscribed to that kind of philosophy.
Jake and Meredith rode together on his horse. Earlier, before they’d journeyed to Plateau, when she’d seen his gelding in a stall in her barn, Meredith had felt ridiculously wonderful. It all fit into place. He belonged with her now. And being at the fore of the saddle with Jake wrapped around her, caressing her waist as he rode, felt every bit as amazing too. She loved it when they rode like this and didn’t want the brief voyage to end.
All too soon it did.
They halted outside the Stop and out rushed Laura, wrapped in a thin peach shawl. As soon as Jake lowered her to the ground, Laura had Meredith in a firm embrace.
“Worried about you, girl.” The words were said almost fiercely, angrily, but Meredith had heard the undercurrent of concern.
She hugged Laura in return. “I missed you.” Her own words had come out wholly uncensored. Although it was the truth, she’d usually try to stop herself from saying as much, too fearful of rejection, too ashamed of feeling more than she should.
But there weren’t any shoulds any longer. Her life was now consumed with possibilities and, of all things, hope.
Laura pulled back and smiled down at her. “I missed you too, my friend.”
Meredith’s already achingly huge and warm heart almost burst from the gracious words. But a screech interrupted the amiable and loving reunion.
Jake had turned so fast, Meredith hadn’t seen him do it, with a hand on his sidearm in his coat, snug against his ribs. But then the merry sound of screaming children stopped him from withdrawing his gun. She smiled at him when he glanced down at her, rolling his shoulders, seeming to force himself to relax. God, he was fast. And for whatever reason, that was such a turn on. Already making plans to attack him in a dark corner, she smiled at the rush of children. That was when she noticed the gang of youth was huge, and singing behind them was a group of men.
“Jesus, they’re all together,” Jake said absently.
“Yes,” Laura whispered. It seemed her throat was constricted with joy. She beamed at Meredith and Jake. “We’re re-celebrating Christmas today, since the first one went so horribly wrong.” Her warm brown eyes filled with tears. She aimed her smile down at Meredith. “It was Dorothy Eskola and Alexandr Dusek. They told everyone how you’ve been tutoring them
together
. How you encouraged them to share what being a Fin was and what being a Slav meant. And when they heard you went after Jake who was chasing after the man pestering you—well, they’d finally had enough of fighting. At least presently. So they decided to revel Christmas all over again, but this time, they’re together, celebrating by sharing in each other’s traditions.”
Behind the group of singing men was Mr. Eskola, carrying a huge burlap bag and a...hatchet?
“What does Mr. Eskola hold?” Jake asked, his voice cold.
Laura merely giggled. “It’s a Slavic tradition. Mr. Eskola is the Kuba. It’s kind of like a Slavic version of Santa Claus. The Kuba chases after the children with the hatchet and threatens to kidnap them if they’re naughty.”
“’Tisn’t that what started the whole fighting between the two peoples in the first place?” Jake asked with an arched brown brow.
Laura nodded then shrugged. “Personally, I think the fighting started because they were intolerant of each other, but, yes, this tradition seemed to be the spark that ignited the fire. But now...now they glory in each other’s differences.”
Meredith giggled. “I love it. I love all of this so much. I want to be the Kuba.”
“Maybe next year, sweetheart.” Laura wrapped an arm around her shoulder, standing beside her so they could watch the group progress—the children shrieking, Slavic and Finish men singing a Christmas hymn together, and behind them Mr. Eskola threatening to take the lot of them in his bag.
“Mr. Eskola is Finnish,” Jake said softly.
“Caught that, did you?” Laura said with mirth. “And Slavic Mr. Dusek is playing as the Finnish Santa Claus. He’ll make an appearance after midnight tonight, hand out some toys and confections. Oh my goodness, it’s near time too.”
“Oh my God.” Meredith sipped in a breath. “Today is New Year’s Eve, isn’t it?”
Jake squeezed her waist a little rougher than usual, ensuring Meredith glance up, but before she could ask whether something was wrong, a loud baritone voice boomed, “Woman, you hogging Miss Peabody and our sheriff? You know they have company coming.”
Laura turned to her husband, Tom, standing outside the Stop, shaking his head. He held a thicker shawl for his wife, and she released Meredith, giggling as she walked toward her husband.
“It’s cold out here. Now, why don’t you wear more clothes, Laura?”
“Your worrying about me always keeps me warm, Tom.”
A tiny smile cracked the huge man’s face, and then it bloomed when Laura stepped close enough he could wrap her in the covering. With an arm around his wife, Tom nodded at Meredith and Jake. “Nice to see you two back.”
“Ye probably have no need for a sheriff now,” Jake said. His voice sounded emotionless, but Meredith detected the vulnerability in it too. She wasn’t too sure but thought he liked his job and wanted to continue.
Tom laughed loudly. “Hell, we need a sheriff now more than ever, son. Don’t let this peace fool you. Those Slavs and Fins might be getting along, but they’re drunker than skunks. This town will always need you. Now, go inside. There’s some kind of surprise in store for you.” Tom and Laura strolled into the Stop, and Meredith was about to follow when Jake tugged on her wrist, twirling her around to face him.
“Wait.” He held her hand, but the other, with near panicked and jerky movements, extracted his pocket watch. The twinkling stars above illuminated the watch’s face enough to see it was, indeed, close to midnight. “Hogmanay,” Jake whispered.
“Pardon, honey? What was that? Oh my God! Look! Look up!”
He glanced up from his watch, smiling at her, but she pointed above their heads where puffy gold and silver snowflakes slowly danced by.
“’Tis snowing.”
She laughed and hugged him. “It’s finally snowing. Can you believe it?”
The fat flakes pirouetted in the sky, fluttering like tiny ballet dancers in The Nut Cracker. They were so beautiful with a torch illuminating them, shining the hues orange, pink, blue, and sparkling like diamonds. Other than the man holding her hand, it was the most beautiful thing Meredith had ever seen.
Jake kissed her quickly. “’Tis bonny, the snow. By the by, I like being your honey.”
“Good, because you are.”
He swallowed, the smile waning slightly. “’Tis Hogmanay. Or nearly.”
“Is that Gaelic for New Year’s?”
“Nay, I—‘tis—Aye, ‘tis celebrated on New Year’s Eve, but it means more. ‘Tis the time to think of times past. Of loved ones—”
“Auld Lang Syne!”
“Ach, lass, love it when ye speak in Scots.” His gray eyes darkened, and zipping through Meredith’s body were white flower petals stirring her arousal.
“Oh. Really? That’s all I know. But I’ll learn more.”
He made a sound—part acknowledging grunt, part growl, part groan. She really liked that sound. She certainly would learn Scots, Gaelic, anything to have him make that noise again.
“We’ll be the first footers.” His whisper was now reverent yet still drenched in desire.
“I don’t know what that means, but I like it.” Her own voice had gotten too breathy, sexy.
He silently chuckled. “’Tis good luck to have a man, dark haired preferably” —he pointed at his own brown waves just reaching past his hat, while the snow accumulated on his black brim— “walk through the door after midnight. ‘Tis the first footing. A good Scottish tradition.”
“It is an excellent tradition,” said a very Greek-accented voice. “But you’re not the first footers.”
Simultaneously, Jake and Meredith turned toward the open door of the Stop. There stood not two, but five auburn muses, all decked out in golden dresses of the day. Although the dresses were the same color, each was a smidgen different—one wore a large hoop skirt, another was more about the bustle in the back, yet another looked as if she were a Jane Austen movie extra. So maybe the dresses weren’t exactly
à la mode,
but they were historical. And fun.
Two of the muses waved with their fingertips through the thickening snowfall. “Hurry, come in for the first footing.”
*
I
nside
the Stop’s restaurant, Jake was yet again a bit distraught at seeing the crowd of people frozen motionless. It appeared that almost the whole town was inside, re-celebrating Christmas and enjoying the New Year’s Eve festivities too. But they were as still as statues. It was then he noticed a single candle in every window. He nearly chocked at that, feeling his eyes instantly mist with nostalgia. Lord, he’d missed seeing anything Scottish. And it was
Oidche Choinnle
—Night of Candles for the first footers.
“It’s so eerie but picturesque,” Meredith whispered beside him, glancing at the red, green, and blue decorations filling the large room with cheer, and, if Jake weren't mistaken, a sense of hope.
“Aye.” His voice cracked from the loveliness of it all.
“Oh! Oh! It’s nearly time!” One of the muses giggled. The five of them—it was too difficult to tell who was whom—stood a ways back, giving Jake and Meredith room to turn around and face the door for the first footers. Another one of the muses sat on a nearby chair and started to strum a small harp that materialized after the melody began.
Auld Lang Syne
rang throughout the room, nearly making Jake give in and cry. Instead, he tugged on Meredith’s wrist again, pulling her close. He leaned down and whispered, “Happy New Year, Meredith.”
She smiled widely. “Merry Christmas and happy New Year, Jake.” But suddenly she grew somber. “I—I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Just a few more seconds left of this year!” A muse yelled then laughed.
Jake guessed Meredith referred to the first footers, muses, and, hell, there were gods involved too, as well as the fact that neither of them belonged to this time. But he wanted them to. Before he could say a word, Meredith beat him to it.
She slipped her hands up his chest, resting her amethyst-colored gloves that matched her bonny dress on his heart. “I want to stay here. With you. If you want me.”
He almost laughed.
If he wanted her?
Hell, he craved her more than he needed air to breathe. “I—I still want to marry ye, lass. I want ye to be mine. Now, I figure ye may want some time to court and whatnot. But—”
“Ten more seconds!” a muse hollered.
“I love you,” Meredith said so quietly, so humbly, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly.
“Nine...”
He took a breath. “Meredith...”
“Eight...”
“I love you so much, Jake. I know it’s too soon to say such a thing, but I do. I love you.”
“Seven...”
He swallowed, his throat closing from her confession. Clearing his throat a few times, he said, “This time of year makes many a man—and woman, o’ course—ponder times of past. I’ve lived in the bygone years. I’ve even lived, though briefly, in the future—”
“Six...”
“Yet time is irrelevant when it comes to love. ‘Tis the best present I’ve ever received, Meredith. Yer love for me transcends all time.”
“Five...”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “That’s—that’s so nice. But you’re killing me. Why aren’t you saying it back?”
“Four...”
He latched onto her curved waist, holding her tight. “I’m so honored. Lord, Meredith, I’ve loved ye since the moment I first saw ye.”
“Three...”
She released a huge burst of air, almost panting in relief, it seemed.
He smiled, noticing the enticing way his woman’s chest rose and fell, slightly distracted by the swell of her breasts under all that purplish silk. “I’ve loved ye, I think, before I even met ye, cravin’ a wee fae like ye, my fierce Fury. Married or no’, I just want to spend the rest of my life lovin’ ye.”