Dark Witch (18 page)

“It’s beautiful. It’s brilliant.” Iona clasped her hands together as the defiant palette glowed. “You’re brilliant.”

With a satisfied nod, Branna tucked her hair back. “I can’t say I disagree.”

“And there’s a fragrant stick up the arse for him.” Connor set the shovel on his shoulder. “I’m hungry.”

Beaming happy, Iona hooked arms with her cousins. “I’m cooking breakfast.”

“God help us, but I’m hungry enough myself I’ll risk it.”

Branna walked back with them, glancing back once. Right up the arse, she thought.

12

S
HE ENJOYED THE NEW ROUTINE, WALKING WITH CONNOR IN THE MORNINGS
, riding Alastar on the guideds, juggling in a few students, then having Boyle walk or drive her home again.

Late afternoons meant work and practice, and an additional hour at night for refining her skills.

The sun came out again, so the river sparkled with it. The loughs went to gleaming mirrors, and the green of the fields and hills only deepened under its shine through the puffs and layers of clouds streaming across the sky.

She could forget—almost—all that lay on the line, all yet to be faced. After all, she was having a romance.

Not one that included poetry and flowers, and her romantic sensibilities would have relished just that. But when your heart aimed toward a man like Boyle, you had to learn to find poetry in brief words and long silences, and flowers in an unexpected mug of tea pushed into your hands or a quick nod of approval.

And who needed flowers when the man could kiss the breath out of her? Which he did in the green shadows of the woods, or in the disordered cab of his lorry.

Romance, a home, a steady paycheck, a magnificent horse she could call her own, and the new and brilliant understanding of her craft. If she just eliminated the threat of ancient evil, her life struck the top of the bell.

She finished her lesson with Sarah, both of them pleased with the progress.

“Your form’s really improving. We’re going to work more on changing leads, smoothing that out.”

“But when can we add another bar? I’m ready, Iona, I know it.”

“We’ll see how it goes next lesson.” Looking up into Sarah’s pleading eyes, Iona patted her mount’s neck. And remembered herself at that age. “I’ll tell you what. One bar up, one jump before you take Winnie in and tend to her.”

“You mean it! Oh, thanks! Thanks! This is brilliant.”

“One bar, one jump,” Iona repeated, and glanced at Sarah’s mother as she started to the bars. She hefted one, maneuvered it in place.

Just three feet, she thought, and believed her student could handle it. If not, the horse would know.

She looked back at the horse now.

She wants to fly, wants to feel you fly with her. Keep it steady.

Iona stepped back, noted Sarah’s mother twisted the ends of the scarf she wore around her neck.

“All right, Sarah. It’s only one bar, but you have to let Winnie know you’re in it together. Trust her, and let her know she can trust you. Eyes open, let’s have a good, steady pace, and remember your form.”

Her heart was pounding, Iona knew. With such excitement, and some nerves. Still a beginner’s course, even with the single additional bar, but a new challenge, a new hope.

“Good, that’s good,” she called out, circling as Sarah took Winnie around the course. “Posture, Sarah, light hands. You both know what to do.”

Set, she thought, steady and smooth. Gather. And go.

She flew a little herself as she watched her student soar cleanly over the bar, land well, adjust. Then wave one hand over her head in triumph.

“Oh, it’s like magick, it is! Can’t I do it again, Iona? Just once more?”

“Once more around, then Winnie needs her rubdown.”

She watched now with a critical eye, noting little things they’d work on.

“I feel I could do it forever, and jump twice as high.”

“One bar at a time,” Iona told her.

“Did you see, Ma! Did you see me?”

“I did. You were beautiful. Go on now, see to your horse, and we’ll go home and tell your da. Could I have a word?” she said to Iona.

“Sure. I’ll be right in, Sarah. And tell Mooney Winnie earned an apple.”

“I nearly made you stop,” Mrs. Hannigan told her. “I nearly called out to you, no, not yet. All I could see in my mind’s eye was Sarah flying off, lying on the ground with something broken.”

“It’s hard to let her push new boundaries.”

“Oh, it is indeed, and you’ll know yourself one day when you’ve children. But I knew, under it, you wouldn’t let her do something she wasn’t ready for. She’s doing so well with you, is so happy with you. I wanted you to know that.”

“She’s a joy to teach.”

“I think it shows in both of you. I took a picture with my phone when she did the jump.” She pulled the phone out, turned the screen to Iona. “My hand shook, I’m afraid, so it’s a bit blurry, but I knew I’d want to have that moment.”

Iona studied the screen, the flight—the young girl on the back of the sturdy horse, and the bar and air under them. She gave the slightest push, then turned the screen back.

“It’s a wonderful shot, and it’s clear and sharp. You can see the joy and the concentration on her face.”

Lips pursed, Mrs. Hannigan studied the photo again, then those lips curved. “Oh, it is good. It must’ve been my eyes blurry when I first looked at it.”

“You stay for every lesson.” Her mother hadn’t, Iona remembered. “I think it makes her strive to do better, knowing you’re here for her, that you support her.”

“Well of course I do. I’m her ma. I’m going to call her father right now, and tell him to pick up some strawberry ice cream. It’s her favorite. We’ll have a little celebration after dinner. I won’t keep you, but I wanted to thank you for building her confidence, and my own. They’re lucky to have you here.”

Iona wasn’t sure her boots touched the ground all the way into the stables. She stopped when her eyes adjusted to the change of light and she spotted Boyle.

“I didn’t know you were here.”

“Only just, and I’ve gotten an earful from Sarah. She’s floating three feet off the ground.”

“We both are. I wish you could’ve seen her. I should make sure she’s tending Winnie.”

“She is, and well, as she’s now fully in love. And Mooney’s keeping an eye. I thought you might want to take Alastar out. I’m going to give Darling a try, just see how she goes. He’d be good company for her. And you for me,” he added after a moment.

“I’d love it, but I’ve still got about a half hour on the clock.”

“You’ll be helping exercise the horses, so you can consider it a job if it eases your conscience.”

“Works for me.”

In fact she couldn’t think of a better way to end her workday than with a ride with the man who made her heart flutter.

She watched Darling as Boyle mounted, caught the quiver along her flanks, the expression in her eyes.

“She’s nervous.”

“I can feel that for myself.” To soothe, he bent over, murmuring and stroking.

“Do you know why?”

“She’s more weight on her than she’s used to, and hasn’t had a rider on her back in weeks.”

“That’s not it.” Iona turned Alastar so Boyle and Darling fell into step beside her. “She trusts you, and loves you. She’s nervous she won’t do well, and you won’t want to ride her again.”

“Then she’s foolish. It’s a fine day for a ride. We’ll head to the lough, and around a bit if it’s all right with you.”

“More than all right.”

“You’ll tell me if she hurts, and I don’t notice.”

“I will, but she’s feeling very sound. She likes the look of Alastar,” she added, sotto voce. “Thinks he’s very handsome.”

“He is that.”

“He’s pretending not to notice her, but he’s peacocking a little.”

“Now you’re hunting up a romance for the horses?”

“I know he’s for Aine, but a stallion like Alastar’s meant to sire foals, and she’s made for breeding. Plus, I don’t have to hunt up anything. I just have to pay attention to say they like the look of each other.”

“I hadn’t thought of breeding her.”

“Aine will make the regal and the magnificent,” Iona said. “Darling? She’ll make the sweet and the dependable. In my opinion,” she added.

“Well, Alastar’s yours, so you’ll have a say in it.”

“I think he has the most to say, as do the ladies. It’s almost spring.” She lifted her face, looked at the sky through the boughs. “You can feel it coming.”

“Still cold as February.”

“That may be, but it’s coming. The air’s softer.”

“That would be the rain moving in tonight.”

She only laughed. “And I saw a pair of magpies flirting out by Branna’s feeder this morning.”

“Just how does a magpie flirt?”

“They fly to and away, to and away, then chatter at each other and do it again. I asked Connor why the hawks don’t go after them, and he said they have an arrangement. I like that.”

They moved into single file when the path narrowed, and wound by the river where the water thrashed under a broken rope bridge.

“Will they ever fix that?” she wondered.

“I’m doubting it, as people would be foolish enough to walk on it, and end up falling in. You’d be one of them.”

“Who says I’d fall in? And if I did, I’m a strong swimmer.” Because she enjoyed flirting, she sent him a long, under-the-lashes look. “Are you?”

“I live on an isthmus on an island. I’d be a bleeding git not to swim and well.”

“We’ll have to take a dip sometime.” She glanced back again, and remembered her first sight of him, and how striking, how compelling he’d looked—the big, tough man on the big, tough horse.

But she realized he only looked more striking now, seated on the mare he’d brought back to health, his hands light on the reins, her eyes glowing with pride.

“She’s not nervous anymore.”

“I know it. She’s doing fine and well.” He moved up beside Iona as the path allowed.

“I talked to my grandmother last night,” she began. “I couldn’t settle for email anymore, just wanted to hear her voice. She sends you her best.”

“And mine goes back to her.”

“She’s planning to come for a few weeks either this summer or fall. I want her to, but at the same time . . .”

“You worry if we’ve still battles to fight. You want her safe.”

“She’s everything to me. I thought when . . . I talk too much.”

“No doubt of it, but you might as well speak your mind.”

“I was just going to say how Sarah’s mother’s always there for her lessons and her father’s come by twice to watch her. My mother would just drop me off, or more often I’d catch a ride to and from with one of the other students. My father never came. Never once. Rarely to a competition either. But Nan did, whenever she could. She’d drive to wherever they were, whenever she could. Sometimes she’d just be there, and I wouldn’t know she’d planned to come. She paid for the lessons, and the entry fees. I didn’t know that until I was staying with her once, and heard a message on her machine about renewing the contract with the stables.”

“She gave you what you loved.”

“I want her to be proud of me. I guess it’s a lot like Darling. I want to do well, so she can see she didn’t waste the time and effort.”

“Then you’re foolish as well.”

“I know. Can’t seem to help it.”

She looked out over the lake, away to the elegant rise of the castle, its gardens still caught in the last of winter’s bite. People strolled around, here to see and do and experience from wherever they’d traveled.

She understood it was like the photo of Sarah, a moment she wanted to have. So as they walked the horses along the water, she let everything else go, and took a page from Boyle’s book.

She embraced the silence.

“We should start back,” he said at length. “I don’t want to overwork her.”

“No, and Branna will be expecting me for
my
lesson.”

“Going well enough then?”

“Yes. Branna might have some quibbles, but I think it’s going just . . . grand.”

She glanced to him with a grin, saw him looking past her with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I was . . . noticing the cottage there. They’ve a fine menu. Maybe after your lesson, you’d like to have some dinner there.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “With you?”

His frown only deepened. “Well, of course, with me. Who else?”

“There’s no one else,” she said simply. “I’d love to. I could be ready by seven or seven thirty.”

“Half-seven’s good. I’ll book it, and fetch you.”

“That sounds grand, too.”

As they slipped into the woods, into the dimmer light, she began a mental inventory of her wardrobe. What should she wear? Nothing too fancy, but not jeans or trousers. Maybe Branna could help her out there, as her options were limited.

Something simple, but pretty. Heels, not boots. Her legs were damn good if she said so herself. She’d like to dazzle him, at least a little, so—

Alastar shied; Darling reared.

And the wolf stepped across the path.

Her thoughts centered on the safety of the horses, Iona didn’t think, just acted. She streamed a line of fire across the path between them.

“It won’t hurt you. I won’t let it hurt you.”

Boyle drew a knife from a sheath on his belt she hadn’t noticed. “He bloody well won’t.”

“Don’t dismount!” Iona shouted, anticipating. “She’s terrified. She’ll bolt, and it might get to her. You have to hold her, Boyle.”

“Take her reins, talk her down, and get them safe. I’ll hold it off.”

“Separating us makes us easier prey.” It’s what it wanted, hoped for—she could
feel
it. “Trust me, please. Please.”

And struggling to focus, she murmured, her voice quiet, steady, an incantation she learned from the books. One still untried.