A Kind of Magic (15 page)

“You don’t trust me. You don’t like me.”

“You don’t understand.”

“You don’t ever explain.”

“I just spent half the morning talking to you.”

“Well excuse me for daring to interrupt your solitary thoughts.”

He hadn’t meant to sound so annoyed about a bit of conversation. He hadn’t minded talking. Why did people always think he didn’t want to have conversations? “It was no burden talking to you, woman. You didn’t like my explanations.”

“There was nothing to like.”

“Aye, I’ll grant you that.”

Tears welled in Maddie’s eyes again. “What do you want from me?”

If he wasn’t convinced she’d run if he loosened his hold even a little, Rowan would have reached up and wiped the tears away. His next impulse was to hold her close and comfort her, tell her it wasn’t what he wanted but what fate had dictated for them.

Instead of doing either of these things, he admitted, “I don’t know what I want.” Not for himself. “But for the clan—”

Terrified screams from the children on the cliff halted his words. He whirled about just in time to see a small body hit the water.

Maddie swore. “Can he swim?” Even as she called out the question, the children on the rocks were yelling that Ian was going to drown, that he couldn’t swim a stroke.

She would have jumped into the surf but Rowan held her back. “Stay here!” Not wanting to be weighed down by the heavy wool, he stripped off his kilt, tossed it to his wife and plunged into the freezing water.

Maddie didn’t know whether to wait on the shore or jump in after him. She was a strong swimmer with plenty of life-saving training—a person didn’t live for a year on a platform over the raging North Sea and not learn how to survive as long as possible in the cold, stormy water. She was torn but hesitated when she saw that Rowan could swim like a seal. He cut through the water, reaching the child quickly with swift, clean strokes. It bothered her that the kid didn’t move when he grabbed the small body and made his way back toward the shore. She feared hypothermia had already set in despite the relatively balmy temperature of the summer sea.

“It’s maybe forty-five degrees if we’re lucky,” she muttered. She paced up and down the shingle, her gaze never left the figure of Rowan Murray as he swam back toward shore. “Maybe the boy passed out when he hit the water,” she guessed as she worried about the child. “Maybe his lungs are already full of salt water. Maybe—” She barely noticed the arrival of the other children who’d been playing on the cliff or of villagers alerted to the accident by the children’s cries.

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A crowd was gathered around her by the time Rowan stumbled out of the water, Ian’s small body cradled in his arms. The crowd parted as Maddie hurried forward. The first thing she did was wrap the cold body in Rowan’s warm plaid as he settled Ian onto dry land.

“How’s he doing?” she demanded as they knelt on either side of the unmoving boy.

Ian’s skin was blue with cold and lack of oxygen too, she suspected. She grasped the boy’s wrist.

Terror gripped her stomach as Rowan shouted, “Fetch Father Andrew!”

“I’ve got a pulse!”

A woman cried out. Someone else demanded. “Is the lad dead?”

“He drowned,” Rowan confirmed. “I dinna get to him quick enough.”

Maddie moved to kneel by Ian’s head. She gave Rowan a quick, commanding look.

“Press on his chest after I breathe.”

“What are you talking about?”

She ignored his outraged question, took a gulp of air, put her mouth over Ian’s and exhaled as hard as she could. She shot Rowan a look as she took in another lungful. He looked appalled but he took her meaning and pressed down on Ian’s chest. She bent forward to breath out again. Rowan pressed down.

Within a few seconds Ian coughed, took in a great gasp of air on his own. Maddie sat back on her heels. Ian sat up and began to cry. A man ran forward and snatched the coughing boy up into his arms.

“It’s a miracle!” Father Andrew cried.

“Magic!” Maddie heard Rosemary chime in.

“Girl Scout merit badge,” Maddie said, but no one was listening to her. Mouth-to-mouth was the only first-aid technique she hadn’t flunked.

No one but Rowan paid her any mind—he was smiling at her. Her cheeks went hot with pleasure at the intensity of that smile. Now she knew why he didn’t do it too often, because when he let that smile loose, it was devastating. It almost made her forget she’d hated his guts not ten minutes ago. Almost. She looked away. She tried to get back her righteous anger but it was too late, the adrenaline rush from the crisis had burned out her bad mood. She couldn’t help but be happy—but she told herself it was because the kid was okay, not because Rowan Murray was smiling at her.

She did let him help her to her feet. His hands were cold. She turned to him in alarm. There he stood, soaking wet, wearing nothing but a short saffron shirt and a wide, boyish grin. “Get those clothes off,” she demanded. “You’re freezing!”

“If that’s what you want, lass.”

He was still grinning when he stripped off the shirt and stood before her completely naked. The villagers stopped fussing over poor wee Ian long enough to look at her staring at not so wee Rowan. For a man who’d never displayed a sense of humor before, he seemed to take an inordinate amount of amusement in exhibiting himself to her.

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It was Rosemary who laughed first. Someone made a lewd comment. Maddie squeaked in shock at another earthy suggestion, from Father Andrew of all people.

Then, with gales of ribald laughter ringing in her ears, Maddie turned around and stormed off toward the castle.

* * * * *

“That was unconscionable.”

“I only did as you wanted.”

“I was concerned for you. You could have frozen in that wet shirt.”

“I’m grateful.”

“That was no way of showing it.”

“Well, I’m not used to showing it in public.”

“Will you stop!”

Her cheeks were as bright red as her flaming hair. Rowan didn’t know what devil had gotten into him an hour ago but it still rode him as he joined Maddie on the bench they’d vacated earlier in the day. He felt giddy, wild, happy. The sun was still warm, the breeze soft. He stretched out his legs before him and gazed at his wife’s tense profile.

“The lad’s alive,” he said. “Your doing. You’re here to save the clan. I believe it now.” He put his hand on her shoulder.

She slipped away, moved farther down the length of the seat they shared. “Good for you.”

He’d found her on the bench when he’d returned from making sure Ian was settled in his own warm bed. She looked so lost and lonely he didn’t have the heart to point out to her that he’d just seen to one of the functions that should have been hers. It occurred to him that he shouldn’t expect her to perform traditional duties but to leave her free to save his people in her own way.

“Have I told you we’re all thankful for your saving the lad’s life?”

Maddie was so shocked at his gentle tone that she looked at him for the first time since he sat down beside her. He was bare-chested but for a fold of kilt thrown over his left shoulder. To avoid looking at is chest, she looked at his face. Rowan looked younger somehow, lighter, if that made any sense. As though he were an approachable human being instead of a duty-driven tyrant. That bothered her. She wasn’t in any mood to deal with him as a human being—a practical-joking human being at that.

“I didn’t save him,” she said. “We did. You’re the one who got him out of the water.”

“You brought him back to life.”

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“He wasn’t dead. His lungs were just full of water,” she explained as Rowan gave her a curious look. “We got air to him and then he started breathing on his own. No magic, just common-sense first aid.”

Rowan was intrigued. “No magic?”

“There’s no such thing as magic.”

She sounded so adamantly opposed to the simple fact of life, Rowan decided not to try to persuade her differently. Why fight more than necessary? “Can you teach me this, what did you call it, first aid?”

“Mouth to mouth? Sure.” Maddie blushed as she saw his icy eyes suddenly take on warmth at her words. He reached for her. She stood. “I’m not talking about kissing.”

Humor as well as desire lit his expression. “But you’re thinking about it.”

“Because you are.”

“More than thinking. I’m going to do it.” He stood, snagged her around the waist.

He pulled her against his bare chest. “You were concerned that I wasn’t warm enough a few minutes ago.” Her eyes went wide as he leaned closer but she didn’t try to pull away. That was a good sign. Her lips were soft to the touch as he covered her mouth with his. Desire began to replace playful giddiness as he teased her lips with his tongue.

He was ready to deepen the kiss, taste the sweetness of her mouth, then an errant thought intruded and he pulled abruptly away.

Maddie staggered back as Rowan released her. He was glaring again. “What?”

“Did you not tell me yesterday that you know nothing of healing?”

Maddie ran a hand across her mouth. “Well, yeah, I guess. But I—”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “You lied to me.”

“Stop that!” He did, but only long enough to grab her wrist and angrily haul her toward the tower entrance. “What are you doing? Where are we going?”

“You’re going to tend the sick,” he informed her. “And you’re going to do it right now.”

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Susan Sizemore

Burke Harboth had been given a thick pallet in a curtained off section of the hall.

The area seemed far too private to Rowan, especially as he found his sister seated next to the Harboth lad as Rowan stalked over. It didn’t help his angry mood to see her solicitously combing Burke’s thick blond hair.

“Micaela get away from there,” he ordered as he dragged Maddie forward. “You don’t know where it’s been.” Micaela sprang indignantly to her feet as Rowan pushed Maddie to her knees. “I’ve brought you a new nurse, Harboth.” He looked at his sister.

“Where’s your chaperone?”

“Rosemary ran off when we heard about Ian.”

“How is the lad?” Burke asked.

Rowan ignored the question. He took Micaela by the hand. “Come with me.” He glared down at his wife. “You tend him.”

“But…” Maddie, Micaela and Burke all said at once.

Rowan paid no attention to any of them. He marched Micaela away in implacable silence.

Maddie stayed on her knees for a few moments, recovering from the shock. Finally she looked at Burke. “What was that all about?”

Burke laughed. She watched her hand as he took it in his own and began to gently stroke her fingers. “Apparently the laird of the Murrays would rather have me court his wife than his sister.”

“Oh.” She snatched her hand back to her side. “Stop that.”

Burke propped himself up on his elbows. “You look like you need courting, my lady.”

Maddie grimaced. “Do I?”

“Aye. But since my heart belongs to Micaela Murray, perhaps I should call in my brother to woo you—for the saints know Rowan Murray hasn’t the wit or will to make a woman happy.”

“Amen to that,” Maddie grumbled. Then she stood up quickly. “I’m not interested in anybody courting me anyway.”

He smiled, showing roguish dimples. “All women are.”

She shrugged. “Well, maybe. A little. This is hardly the place or time for it.”

“Place and time don’t matter, it’s the man, my lady.”

Maddie crossed her arms and changed the subject. “How are you feeling?”

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“I’m fine.” He sat up and brushed a thick lock of blond hair out of his face. “How’s the lad?”

“Ian’s fine.”

He stood up and Maddie saw that he was very tall, though slender. She already knew he was heavy. He straightened his kilt. “Have you seen my sword belt, my lady?”

“No. Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked as he rolled his shoulders and winced.

“Well enough to return to my own clan,” he answered.

“Since Rowan won’t let Micaela near you anymore?”

He grinned at her question. Micaela pushed back the curtain before he could answer.

“My brother’s a fool,” Micaela declared. She gave Maddie a passing glance.

“Though I doubt you think so.”

“You’re not getting any argument from me.” While she spoke, Micaela and Burke clasped hands and gazed into each other’s eyes. Maddie could practically see the pheromones sizzling through the air between them. She shook her head. “Why don’t you take a walk or something? It’d probably do Burke some good to sit in the sunshine.” They stepped closer to each other. She put a hand on Micaela’s shoulder.

“Get out of the house, Mickey. You two could use the fresh air. The sun doesn’t shine that often around here. Go on, take advantage of it.”

Micaela put her arm around Burke’s waist, he put his around her shoulders.

Maddie didn’t think they needed to be quite that close as she watched them walk away but she couldn’t help but be amused by their obvious devotion. Amused but a bit melancholy as well. She wondered what it would be like to have someone devoted to her. Then she suddenly recalled the moment Rowan had started to kiss her in the courtyard.

“That wasn’t devotion,” she told herself.

She wasn’t even sure it was lust. He’d probably thought it was his duty to kiss her just then, maybe he considered it some sort of reward for her helping to rescue Ian.

Lord knew he’d been easily enough distracted just as she was getting interested in the proceedings.

“Oh the devil with Rowan Murray,” she said, and marched after the young couple toward the door. “I’m going to get to work on that chimney design.”

* * * * *

“Don’t you ever do as you’re told?”

Maddie turned from one scowling man to the other. “Not usually, no,” she answered Rowan, and smiled sweetly as she said it.

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“Why aren’t you in the hall?” He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead then glanced back down the hill he’d just climbed. It was warm, even for a high summer day. The wind was picking up though, and there were clouds piling up over the mountains. Soon there would be cool rain to break the heat and he’d no doubt spend the night out in the foul weather once again.