Read To Ride A Púca Online

Authors: HEATHER MCCORKLE

Tags: #mystery, #romance, #paranormal

To Ride A Púca (23 page)

For a moment she wondered if he meant the bear or the stranger in the forest. One glance at him made her realize he hadn’t seen the eyes in the trees. Of course he hadn’t. The only reason she had was the draw of the druid-like power that had been emanating from the person. Perhaps it was only someone from her Order looking out for her.

“But then, with all this, what wouldn’t be scared?” Tyr said as he puffed up his chest.

Neala looked skyward and shook her head. Tyr’s arrogance would save her a lengthy and creative lie. Who knew it would come in so handy?

“Indeed,” she agreed, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Agreeing cost her an earful the whole way home. As they walked, her eyes scanned the forest but whoever she had seen was gone. Tyr talked non-stop about how nothing was ever afraid of him and how typical it was that he’d been able to be fearsome when he needed it most. Neala nodded and uttered sounds of agreement as he talked. It struck her to hear that he thought protecting her was the moment he needed to be fearsome. His compulsion to protect her was baffling. This was one strange Dane.

 

 

21

 

The next morning as Neala dropped a few flakes of hay into Dubh’s stall, a fairy delivered a note to her. Her heart sank as she read it. It was from Bren and he said he wouldn’t be able to meet her that day. He wrote that there were a handful of Danes scouting the area close to his village and that he couldn’t chance leaving. But it also said he’d try to meet her that night at her house.

It had already been a full day since she’d seen him and it felt like an eternity. She wanted to tell him all about the Dane. Well, maybe not all about him. She’d leave out the part about how sweet he could be and how alluring his blue eyes were at times. Yes, she’d definitely leave those parts out. More than that, she wanted desperately to talk to Bren about what happened in the cave. Surely they could work it out.

The barn door opened, pulling Neala from her thoughts. It was her da leading one of the black and white geldings in. Both he and the horse were dripping sweat.

“Oh Neala, good, ye’re in here. Can ye ride out and check the upper field? We had a bunch of stray lambs wander off and I’m beat,” he said.

She brushed hay from her tunic, trying to buy time to think up an excuse. While she may not believe Tyr was a cold-blooded killer, she still didn’t trust him enough to leave him alone with her parents.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, da,” she said, settling on the truth when nothing else came to her.

He gave her an exasperated look as he wiped sweat from his brow. She hated that look. It was the one that meant he thought she was being a silly little girl. When would he realize she had stopped being a child years ago?

“I don’t have the energy to argue with ye,” he said with a sigh.

“Good, then don’t.”

Taking a deep breath that puffed his chest out, he stopped and turned to her. “Fine. If ye’re so worried that yer ma and I can’t defend ourselves, take the Dane with ye,” he said, sounding defeated.

If she hadn’t been looking so forward to a day without babysitting his tone might have made her feel bad.

“Fine, I will,” she said as she grabbed Dubh’s bridle and spun away.

Before her da spoke again she was in Dubh’s stall getting him ready.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that this has all been so stressful on us. I’m sorry we haven’t had the chance to talk. I know ye must have a lot of questions.”

“No da, I don’t. Me Order has answered all me questions. Besides, why would I ask ye? Ye’d probably just lie to me,” she snapped.

“I suppose I deserve that. Truly Neala, if we’d had any idea the Danes would invade like this, we never would have kept the truth of what ye are from ye,” he said.

She glared at her da as she opened the stall door and led Dubh out. The downturn of his mouth and the moisture in his eyes convinced her he really was sorry, but it wasn’t enough. Ignoring the pang of sympathy in her heart, she shot him a wounded look.

“That’s the problem da, ye never believed they would. I’ve always known in my heart, I felt it. Ye didn’t listen to me,” she said, struggling to keep her voice from shaking.

Shame contorted his features and he looked down at the hay-strewn floor. “We should have. It was yer warrior nature preparin’ ye for what was comin’. We just didn’t want to believe it,” he said.

The words caused a sharp pain to slowly spread through her chest. That her own parents didn’t want her to embrace what she was broke her heart. Dangerous or not, it was who she was.

The barn door opened and Tyr’s broad silhouette filled the space. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” he asked.

“Not at all. Ye’re just in time. Here, hold him,” Neala said as she handed him Dubh’s reins.

The horse and the man stared at one another, both rigid with tension. “Dubh, be good,” Neala said before walking off.

Shaking his head, her da moved to the back of the barn where the well pump was. The sound of running water a moment later brought Neala a touch of relief. It would seem their argument was done, for now. Good, she had nothing more to say. She went to fetch the fresh black and white gelding and hesitated as a thought occurred to her.

“How well can ye ride?” she called to Tyr.

“Really well. Wait, you don’t want me to ride him do you?” he asked, voice rising a bit on the last few words.

Neala laughed so hard it took her two tries to get the bridle over the gelding’s ears. Docile creature that he was, he just stood there with his head dropped and took it. Once she got it on she led him out and handed his reins to Tyr, taking Dubh’s from him.

“Of course not. He wouldn’t let ye ride him,” she said. No one could ride Dubh but her. Not even her da would get on him.

She motioned for Tyr to take the gelding outside. As soon as his back was turned she jumped onto Dubh. It wouldn’t do for Tyr to see how easily she mounted up. Not even exceptional horsemanship could explain that away. Tyr was struggling onto the gelding’s back when she rode up alongside him. The big horse never moved a step. His eyes drooped and his bottom lip was relaxed as though he was still half asleep. Neala had a bad feeling it was going to be a slow ride.

It was a good thing the gelding’s reins were tied together because by the time Tyr made it onto his back they were halfway up his neck. He leaned up and grabbed them without too much more trouble. He tried to smile and look as if he wasn’t gasping for breath. A hand lingered on his side and the look of pain on his face made Neala feel a little bad. She had forgotten about his wound. Though it was remarkably better thanks to her ma, it wasn’t completely healed yet.

Straightening, Tyr patted the horse on the neck and the gelding responded by shaking its long, two-toned mane up into Tyr’s face. Neala barely managed to stifle a laugh.

“He’s a good-sized horse, even by my people’s standards,” Tyr said.

“That he is,” Neala agreed.

With a squeeze of her legs, she urged Dubh into a trot and the gelding followed. Tyr sat the trot well enough that she believed what he said about being a fairly good rider. But at the lazy gelding’s pace they had a long day ahead of them. She was curious to see how Tyr fared by the end of it.

Though the ride to the upper field took longer than she would have liked, it wasn’t completely unpleasant. Tyr was quiet most of the way, content to take in the scenery with the occasional tangent about a particular type of tree he spotted. He showed a lot of interest in Neala’s people and her way of life and she had to be careful about what she chose to tell him. He didn’t press her on the things she left out, though, which made her think maybe his curiosity was genuine and not just a ploy to get information.

There was no sign of the stray lambs even after they crested the hill and came into the big valley. Neala was starting to wonder if her da had used the excuse to have her get Tyr away from the house. The Dane couldn’t be easy for her ma to be around. But then it wasn’t easy for Neala to be around him either. She was supposed to be preparing to go to battle against his kind, not having idle conversation with one of them.

“I don’t see any sheep,” Tyr said as he shielded his eyes and peered out over the green field.

With her druid power Neala carefully scanned the field. There were no energy signatures of anything bigger than a rabbit. Now she was definitely starting to think her da had lied. Then she saw something in the trees at the edge of the forest to their left. It was much too big to be a sheep and from this distance she couldn’t tell what it was. It appeared to be thrashing about as if it was stuck. Neala guided Dubh in that direction. It may not be a sheep but if it was an animal in trouble she couldn’t just ignore it.

“There’s somethin’ over here,” she said.

As they rode down the hill toward it, Dubh arched his neck and started high-stepping. He didn’t shy away or try to pull her a different direction so Neala figured whatever it was must not be too bad.

“He’s not going to take off or anything is he?” Tyr asked, nodding his head at Dubh.

“Not unless I make him.”

Tyr looked doubtful but Neala only offered him a smile. He scarcely knew her. She didn’t expect him to understand the bond between her and her horse. The closer they got the more animated Dubh became. It was a bouncy ride but Neala wasn’t worried. In a few more strides she saw the reason for Dubh’s excitement.

Two young oak trees growing close together held between their trunks the massive antlers of a great deer that had the misfortune to still be attached to the antlers. From the amount of felt on both the antlers and the mangled tree trunks, Neala was guessing the poor creature had been rubbing his antlers and got caught up. She was at a complete loss as to what to do for it.

Tyr slid from the gelding’s back and strode right up to the trapped deer. Its chest heaved and it was covered in sweat. It didn’t even struggle as Tyr approached. The creature’s energy was so depleted it had about as much glow as the grass it knelt upon.

“What are ye going to do?” Neala asked, worried that he might kill it. It didn’t deserve to die that way, with no chance or dignity.

“Set it free,” Tyr said as if it should have been obvious.

Considering that could still mean killing it, Neala wasn’t satisfied. “Don’t hurt it.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Both Neala and Dubh shifted about while Tyr walked around the trees and the stag. The antlers were huge and some of the points looked pretty sharp. Neala knew what those antlers could do to a man. She’d seen her ma heal more than one unlucky hunter.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” she said.

“I can’t just leave him here like this.”

She was stunned into silence. Compassion for an animal—or anything for that matter—was the last thing she expected from a Dane.

Frozen in disbelief, she watched as Tyr pulled back the smaller of the two trees. His biceps bulged and he grunted with the effort, but not even his considerable strength was enough. Focusing until her hands were surrounded by the green and blue glow of her power, Neala sent it out to push against the tree as Tyr gave it one last try. Though it flowed right past him, Tyr showed no sign of seeing the glowing mist of power. The small tree bent easily beneath their combined power, almost making him stumble. On unsteady legs, the stag backed out and trotted away.

The satisfaction Neala had expected to see on Tyr’s face as he walked back to her wasn’t there. Instead he looked offended. Alarm surged through her. Had he seen her power?

“Did ye truly think I was going to kill it?” he asked.

She let out a long breath, her fear going with it. Of course he hadn’t seen it. What was she thinking? Danes were not sensitive to such things.

“I did.”

His wheat colored hair bounced as he shook his head and looked away. “I would never do that. Killing a trapped animal is wrong. Hunting is sacred to my people and we take it very seriously.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

His expression softened and he gave her a tight-lipped smile. “How could you when all my kind does is invade your country and kill your people?”

Unable to answer past the lump in her throat, Neala nodded and stared off into the forest. Something moved within the trees. It was dark and fluffy.

“There ye are!” she said as she squeezed Dubh into a walk.

“What? There’s what?” Tyr called after her.

“The sheep!”

There was no time to wait for him to struggle onto the gelding’s back. She clung tight to Dubh as he sped up and honed in on the sheep. While the stallion may be far from a sport horse, he had a way with herding sheep. All one had to do was hold on and let him do his work. They chased the sheep around a tree and were steps away from the clearing when Neala felt a familiar energy. It wasn’t easy steering Dubh away from the sheep and pulling him to a stop, but she managed.

The source of that familiar energy stood in the field, sword in hand, facing down Tyr. The tension evident in his back and shoulders was nothing compared to the song of death that sang through his power. He showed no fear, as if it didn’t matter that the Dane was twice his size. The fear that gripped Neala was more than enough for both of them. The problem was, she wasn’t sure who she was more frightened for.

“Tyr! Bren! Stop!” she shouted.

Bren took a step back and turned halfway toward her. He was only looking at her out of the corner of his eye, but at least he was paying attention. It was hard to tell if Tyr was, he hadn’t moved. Part of her couldn’t blame Bren for not wanting to take his focus off him. Dubh sprang into a trot at the slightest urging. She pushed the big horse right between them. The fury that set Bren’s eyes ablaze as he looked up at her surprised her.

“This is the Dane me ma is healin’,” she said.

The fire in his eyes remained and his face contorted with a look of disbelief. “Ye protect him?” he asked.

“No. I’m protectin’ ye.” She hated how defensive it sounded but she couldn’t help it. The truth ate at her like a festering wound that came through in the tone of her voice. She didn’t want either of them to get hurt.

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