Read Spellbound Falls [5] For the Love of Magic Online

Authors: Janet Chapman

Tags: #Contemporary Romance

Spellbound Falls [5] For the Love of Magic (20 page)

He swung up behind her, settled her onto his lap as he slid forward into place, then wrapped an arm around her waist and shrugged. “Since he appears to be an earth god, I imagine he turned into an innocuous twig or weed,” he said, reining the horse uphill and urging it into a brisk walk.

Rana leaned around him to see the road. “Where are Kitty and the others?” She twisted to look at him. “They won’t go after the demons, will they?”

He nudged her to face forward again. “They’re covering our back trail. Kitalanta will stay out of sight and not give away our presence.” He chuckled when his stomach suddenly gave a loud rumble, then dropped his hand from around her to pat the front of her jacket. “Did I see you stuffing food in your pockets when I came for you?”

She pressed back against him to reach inside both pockets at the same time, her right hand reemerging with a small waxed wheel of cheese and the left with a bunch of smashed grapes, which she held up for him to see.

“I do love a woman who thinks fast on her feet,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “Will you be very disappointed if we cut our trip short and ride straight through the night to the MacKeages’?”

Rana lowered her hands with a loud, exaggerated, very disappointed sigh. “I suppose we must, since the wilderness has suddenly become so crowded,” she said, lapping juice off her fingers and then sucking two grapes into her mouth.

He nudged her arm. “Feed me.”

She reached up and pushed several of the smashed grapes into his mouth. “We can’t just drop in unannounced on Duncan and Peg in the middle of the night.” She shoved two more grapes in her own mouth. “I don’t want to alarm the children.”

“We won’t be arriving unannounced,” he said with another chuckle, gesturing at the sky, “thanks to your son’s small army of feathered spies.”

Rana looked up through the tree canopy to see several gulls circling overhead. She then looked at where Titus was now pointing and spotted the bald eagle perched at the top of a giant pine, its sharp golden eyes following their progress before it suddenly spread its wings and took flight—heading directly north, she noticed.

She pushed the remaining grapes into his mouth. “I can’t imagine where
your
son could have picked up the habit of spying on people. Titus,” she said as she stared down at the wheel of cheese. “What happened to the man who helped you the day you manifested?”

“I gave Lombard a hero’s burial.”

“You . . . your magic couldn’t save him?”

“It can only save those who choose life over death,” he said quietly, “and Lombard preferred to join his slaughtered wife and children. I believe he was wandering the countryside looking for a good fight to hurry his journey to them, which is why he charged into the swarm of demons to save my life with no concern for his own.”

“If you learned that about him,” Rana whispered, “that would mean he didn’t die in battle.”

“I kept him as comfortable as I could for eight days.” He gave a humorless laugh. “During which time it became clear to both of us that I hadn’t manifested to be anyone’s nursemaid.” He ducked his head beside hers again. “In return for my crude care, Lombard passed the hours by giving me a glimpse into the mortal mind, and I became enthralled to find myself having candid, philosophical discussions with a learned man who had strong opinions on religion, politics, and life in general.”

“All these years and you never told me about him.”

He straightened away with a shrug. “Not for want of hiding anything. When I met you, Lombard was nearly a thousand years dead.”

“But you were a young man of twenty-two when we met.”

Her back vibrated with what she suspected was a silent chuckle. “I couldn’t very well present myself as a doddering old man to a beautiful young maiden who happened to have a well-muscled blacksmith for a father.”

“How old were you, then?” she asked, twisting to look at him. Catching his grin before he could disguise it, she jabbed him with her elbow hard enough to make him grunt. “You were a lecherous old man!”

“Ah, Stasia,” he said with an outright laugh, “have you not learned in the course of our magical marriage that like
time
, age is also a human contrivance? We are all of us as young or old as we feel.” He pressed his cheek to hers. “And the moment I looked into your scowling eyes that day at the tournament, I felt like a young warrior in his prime who also was old enough to know the difference between lust and love. And,” he whispered against her ear, “wise enough to follow you home.”

“But you said you almost gave up on me.”

“Zeus knows I tried,” he said with a chuckle, reining Salt to a stop when they emerged onto another, much narrower tote road. “I even made it ten miles out of town before remembering something Lombard had said about women in general and stubborn young maidens in particular.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me the harder a man must work to capture the heart of a beautiful maiden, the more of a prize she will be.” Titus lifted her right leg over Salt’s neck and turned her to sit sideways inside his embrace. “Because, Lombard said, a woman who knows her own worth will settle for nothing less than
all
a man has to give. And he assured me a stubborn, opinionated, irreverent wife will keep a man young, and that their marriage will never, ever be boring.”

“I would like to have met Lombard,” she said, twining her arms around his neck, “as he sounds very wise.”

Her husband’s deep rich eyes took on a twinkle. “I believe he would have approved of my choice.”

Instead of being gathered closer to be kissed, Rana gasped when she felt herself falling, the blackguard’s laughter accompanying her down as he threw a leg over Salt’s neck and slid to the ground. He held her steady until she found her footing, then turned her toward the woods and gave her a pat on the backside to get her moving. “Go take a potty break,” he said, plucking the cheese out of her hand, “before our final push to the MacKeages’.”

Rana walked into the woods, scowling and rubbing her backside, and decided her big warrior husband was enjoying himself way too much. But then she broke into a smile at the realization she was only hours away from sinking into a blessedly hot bath before collapsing facedown onto one of Peg’s blessedly soft guest beds.

And by the gods, the next time Titus wanted to go camping, he’d better show up in a fully equipped RV bus like Maximilian and Olivia’s, or she would make sure the blackguard wished he
had
continued walking out of town forty years ago.

Chapter Eighteen

Worry was an insidious infliction, Titus decided as he lay staring up at the ceiling only a few feet above his head, in that it tended to consume all rational thought until a seemingly innocuous concern grew into an overwhelming problem. Like with Rana; her worry over what he might do upon learning she was with child had become such a huge, scary problem in her mind that she’d run away.

And like with him now, Titus thought as he toyed with the silky, rose-scented hair splayed across his chest; for the last three days he had been consumed with worry over what Rana’s reaction would be when he told her they weren’t having a baby.

She would be heartbroken. And considering he always turned into a blithering idiot whenever she cried, he was afraid he would start promising her the moon.

He frowned at the ceiling. Then again, there was nothing to say
he
had to be the one to tell her. And anyway, wasn’t that sort of news better received from a midwife, since only another woman could truly empathize with such a deep disappointment? Because no matter what century it was, having—or losing the ability to have—children would always be the business of women. Men paced outside the birthing rooms, waiting and insidiously worrying, then rushed in when it was over and kissed their wives and babes and told them they were beautiful.

Which had him wondering what sort of man—Roger Bentley in particular—would take on the work of doctoring women. He could understand being interested in the science of pregnancy, and he supposed men might be better able to deal with the gruesome details of modern operations. Although in truth, he could just as easily see Maude wielding a scalpel.

Nevertheless, he would be standing right outside the door to comfort his wife when she came out of her exam with Maude, which he would insist she have today. There was no sense drawing this out any longer; the sooner Rana knew she wasn’t with child, the sooner they could get back to being a happily married
couple
. And, Titus decided with a sigh, if she preferred to live on the shore of Bottomless rather than looking down at it from the top of Whisper Mountain, he supposed he could move into this unpainted, crooked-roofed, overstuffed hovel with her. Although he didn’t much care that the bed had obviously been built for a gnome, or that it was tucked under an eave that left him in danger of hitting his head if he sat up without thinking.

They’d reached the fiord two miles south of the MacKeage homestead shortly before midnight to find Duncan camped out waiting for them, thanks to Maximilian’s spies. Titus had slid off Salt with his half-asleep wife in his arms, asked the highlander to take the warhorse, and persuaded Rana that he could have her home in less time than it would take them to ride to Peg’s. She’d glanced out at the darkened fiord then gone boneless against him, mumbling something about not caring where he took her as long as it had a hot shower and soft bed. But then, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d ridden above the waves on Leviathan’s back across open water—although she usually hadn’t had a choice because they had been fleeing for their lives.

After all these years and everything they had been through together, Rana still continued to amaze him with her practical mind, whatever-it-took resilience, and unwavering faith in him. There were also times her sense of humor left him speechless and utterly enchanted. But mostly he was humbled by her courage, emotional strength, and her innate wisdom that bordered on frightening.

Because she had been right; he would have promised anyone anything to make sure she wouldn’t die in childbirth this time, either. Not that he could ever admit that, lest it encouraged her to continue scheming to keep him safe, as he now understood she’d run away to prevent him from selling his soul to save hers.

Although once she realized the full ramifications of his renouncing immortality, she’d have a new and unfamiliar worry to deal with. But, he decided as he kissed her head when he felt her stir, he was in no hurry to broach that subject, either.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Judging by the sun shining through your window, I would say early afternoon. Why?” he asked, realizing his own voice also sounded thick. “Do you have a pressing engagement?”

“No, I don’t suppose I do.” She cuddled deeper against him like a kitten curling into a sunbeam. “Are you comfortable enough?”

That made him chuckle. “I really can’t say, since I can no longer feel my body. Well, except for my feet sticking out through the ironwork on the footboard, as they are only half asleep. So based on the fact that I all but had to kneel in your shower to wash my face and hair, I take it Averill Latimer wasn’t a very tall man?”

He felt more than heard her sigh brush over his chest. “I’m apparently bigger than Averill was, since I can’t even button up his welding jacket.” She began toying with his chest hair. “There’s no reason I have to sell my house immediately, is there?” she whispered, this time her voice sounding heavy with regret. “I mean, we could use it as a retreat this summer.”

“If you sell it,” he returned just as softly, “then where would we live?”

Her head came up, her eyes widened with surprise. That is until they suddenly narrowed. “You would live in a crooked, unpainted hovel?”

He snorted. “Of course not. But I would live here temporarily while our new home is being built on the fiord.”

Her eyes widened again. “Where on the fiord? Near Carolina and Alec?”

“Absolutely not,” he said with a laugh, cradling her back to his chest. “They’re building at the northern end, which leaves us plenty of shoreline to choose from.”

“Which side?” She lifted her head again, this time her eyes shining with excitement. “I think it should be on the Nova Mare shoreline. I don’t know how Peg puts up with lugging her children back and forth across the fiord every day, as I swear she spends more time behind the wheel of her boat than she does her truck. And she’s going to have
seven
children in a few months, and the older ones attend school events that often have them crossing in the dark. I have no idea how Duncan got her to agree to live over there.”

“I told you, the MacKeages kidnap their women and don’t let them leave until they promise to do whatever they say.”

“You said it was until they promised to love them forever.”

“Same thing,” he said, pressing her head down again so she wouldn’t see his grin. “Peg is obviously an obedient wife.”

That got him a poke in the ribs.

He trapped her hand against his side and touched his lips to her hair. “Will you go see Maude today? I will accompany you and sit outside while you two . . . talk.”

“I’ll see her soon, but not today. I want to give her a couple of weeks to get used to working with a doctor. There’s really no rush. I’m not the first woman in history to get pregnant at my age, and I’ve been taking very good care of myself.” He felt her shudder. “I’ve even been drinking that nasty ginger tea under the guise of showing my support for Olivia and Peg and Julia.”

Titus scowled at the ceiling, wondering at her reluctance. “But why not go see her today,
before
Dr. Bentley arrives?”

“He’s arriving
today
. And besides, I want some time to myself before she gives me an endless list of what I can and can’t do. Peg’s right; Maude is a bully, only no one realizes it because of her disarming smile.”

“Yet you felt compelled to bring her here to bully Olivia and Peg and Julia and Carolina?” he asked, knowing damn well that wasn’t the reason she was stalling. Could she suspect she wasn’t pregnant and simply didn’t want to hear the undeniable truth that she was aging? He stroked her back. “Would you consider seeing her today for my peace of mind, then?”

Her head came up again, her eyes studying his. “Are you going to spend the next seven months worrying us
both
crazy?”

“No,” he said truthfully, even as he wondered if he couldn’t rile her out of her stubbornness. “Are you worried she might tell you we’re having twins?”

All that accomplished was to make him bolt upright when she suddenly scrambled off the bed, and he slammed into the ceiling hard enough to leave a dent before falling back with a curse. “Poseidon’s teeth, I was
joking
,” he growled, rubbing his forehead as he glared at her.

“I knew that,” she said, her cheeks darkening as she brushed down the pajamas she’d put on when he’d been in the shower. “Are you hungry?”

That made him laugh as he carefully freed his feet from the iron footboard. Remembering he couldn’t sit up, he rolled off the bed, only to sigh when his head brushed the ceiling as he stood in the
middle
of the room. “Have you stocked your cupboards since I was last here, or are we going to have to ride your electric cart to the Drunken Moose?” he asked, looking for the towel he’d worn upstairs after his shower. Only he stopped looking when he saw her face redden even more.

“I can’t remember if I plugged it in to recharge the—” Her eyes suddenly widened on a gasp, and she ran over and touched his arm. “You’re hurt!”

He looked down as he twisted the skin on his arm and saw the bright red welt he knew came from preventing a large tree branch from slapping her on their flight up the ridge yesterday. He lowered his arm with a shrug. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“But you’ve never gotten as much as a mark on you before. Ever.” Her hands lifted to her mouth. “Sweet Zeus, you’ve already become mortal.”

He swiped the towel off the bureau, wrapped it around his waist and tucked it in on itself, then turned to her and silently nodded.

She slowly backed away, her face ashen. “I’m going to have to worry about you getting maimed riding your motorcycle. Or . . . or you can get sick and
die
.”

Damn. He’d hoped it would take her a while to realize she now had a new and unfamiliar worry to . . . worry about. He pulled her into his arms in a fierce hug. “That was the only thing that made me hesitant to renounce my immortality,” he said softly. “That I could very well die before you do.”

She kept her nose buried in his chest, saying nothing.

“Do your thinking out loud, wife.”

He felt her take a deep breath and finally lean away to look up at him—unable to believe his eyes when he saw a distinct sparkle in hers. “Would I be a widow for very long, do you think?” She batted those big brown eyes even as she tossed her head and ran her fingers through her hair. “I haven’t exactly let myself go to seed, and one rarely sees handsome, wealthy widows sitting on a shelf growing cobwebs.”

It took him a couple of heartbeats to remember what a stubborn, opinionated, irreverent,
terrible
wife she was before he draped her backward over his arm and dropped his nose to within an inch of hers. “I will do more than haunt you,
Mrs
. Oceanus,” he said ever so softly. “I will set a pox on any suitor who comes calling.”

“Such a possessive man you are,” she whispered, pulling him down the rest of the way, her delicious mouth reminding him he’d left off
lusty
.

No, their marriage had never, ever been boring.

• • •

Rana sat up on the narrow table and pushed the hem of her blouse down over her elastic-waist pants with trembling hands. “But I’ve gained nearly ten pounds,” she whispered so she wouldn’t shout. “And my bosom has grown.”

“It’s your body adjusting to the change,” Maude returned just as softly.

“But I haven’t had my woman’s flow for over two months now. It wouldn’t just stop all of a sudden with no warning, would it? Maybe . . . is it possible you just can’t feel the baby yet, or that I’m only a few weeks along instead of nine or ten?”

“You’re not pregnant, Rana, and you never will be again.”

“You’re absolutely
certain
?”

The midwife started to give her a disarming smile, but then dropped her gaze and merely nodded—only to flinch when Rana jumped off the table with a shout and ran out of the cubicle. She sprinted through the church’s freshly painted basement full of shiny new equipment and, ignoring Maude calling to her, threw open the outside door and didn’t even wait for her startled husband to finish turning before she hurled herself at him. “We’re not having a baby!” she cried as he lifted her off her feet and buried his face in her neck. “Not now and not ever again!”

“Ah, Stasia, I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, squeezing the breath right out of her as she felt him also start to tremble. “I’ll give you one if you wish,” he rushed on thickly. “Just don’t cry. I don’t want—”

“Are you insane?” she yelped, rearing back. “I’m too old to have a baby!”

He went as stiff as an oak, still holding her off the ground. “You don’t . . . But you were so . . . Then why in Hades are you crying?”

She smacked his shoulder. “They’re tears of relief, you idiot.” She laughed and hugged him again. “We’re both too old,” she whispered against his hair, “for nightly feedings and changing diapers and chasing toddlers.” She squeezed him tighter. “We just got our children grown and settled, and now all I want is for us to be Granddad and Gram as we grow old
together
.” She leaned away to clasp his face and searched his eyes. “Are you very disappointed we can never have more children?”

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