Mystical Warrior (5 page)

He didn’t even slow down when the grocery store door suddenly opened all by itself. “Don’t worry; it’ll be my treat. Mismatch needs a collar and proper dog food.”

“Mis
neach
,” Fiona said, even as she wondered where she got the courage to correct him. “And I can’t possibly accept such a gift from you.”

As if she hadn’t even spoken, Johnnie led her down one of the many aisles in the large store and stopped in front of a display of goods that had pictures of cats and dogs on them. “What in hell kind of name is Misnutch?” he asked. He looked at her, his expression disgruntled. “He’s a
hunting
dog; you have to give him a noble name like Winchester or Magnum or Decoy. Or at least give him a masculine name like Bruce or Henry or Rex or something.”

“
Misneach
is Gaelic for ‘noble one,’” she blatantly lied.

Apparently mollified, he turned to the display. “I haven’t seen you around town before,” he said, fingering several ropes with clasps on the ends. “Did you just move to Midnight Bay? And was that Gaelic you and your friend were speaking back there at the bookstore?”

“Yes,” she said, finally able to breathe normally now that he’d let her go.

He glanced over his shoulder and lifted one brow. “Isn’t Gaelic some old Irish language or something?”

“I’m Scots.”

His beard bristled around his grin. “And you have a lovely accent, Fiona …? What’s your last name?”

“Gregor.”

His grin disappeared. “You related to Kenzie Gregor?”

Fiona took the opportunity to step away when a woman pushed a cart full of food past them, although she didn’t quite have the nerve actually to bolt. Johnnie Dempster was a big, long-legged man, and she probably wouldn’t even reach the door before he caught her. “He’s my brother.”

“Then how come you’re living at Huntsman’s?”

“Because I wish to be independent.”

Simply stating it out loud—to a complete stranger and a man, no less—made her feel somewhat braver, despite the fact that she was still effectively trapped.

No, she never should have come to town today.

“What’s your favorite color, Fiona?”

“Excuse me?”

“How about gold, to match your beautiful eyes?” he said, his own eyes smiling. “Or maybe red, like your hair—although I suppose it’s more of a strawberry blond. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a long, thick braid of hair on a woman.”

Recognizing that his interest in her had become more than just a means to get rid of his dog, Fiona felt the knot in her belly rise into her throat, leaving her unable to speak.

Johnnie blew out a sigh and returned to fingering the ropes on display. “You’re a bit gun-shy, aren’t you?” he murmured, pulling a bright orange rope off the hook. “Some guy must have burned you really bad. Here, forget about matching anything,” he said, thrusting the rope toward her. “No self-respecting Chesapeake would be caught dead wearing any color other than blaze orange.” He picked up one of the shorter orange belts from the display and snapped it closed to visually gauge its size. “This collar should fit Mismatch, but you’re going to have to buy him a bigger one in a few months.”

Not daring to correct him again, Fiona thrust the leash toward him. “It’s very generous of you, but I can’t let you buy these for me. You have my word of honor; I will come back another time and buy them myself.”

Instead of taking the rope, he snapped the collar onto the end of it, leaving it dangling from her hand, and then turned and began searching the colorful bags with pictures of dogs on them.

Fiona eyed the display of leashes and collars, calculating her chances of hanging hers on the hook and running out of the store before he could catch her.

But then what? She couldn’t just abandon Gabriella.

“Come on,” Johnnie said, hefting a large bag onto his shoulder and heading back up the aisle. “Jason and I will give you and your friend a ride home.”

“But I thought you had to go get your father,” she said, rushing after him like an obedient child. But she was
not
getting into his vehicle. “We can walk home; it’s just a short distance.”

He tossed the bag onto the counter, took the leash and collar out of her hand and tossed them down, then pulled the money out of his pocket that Gabriella had given him. “There’s no way you can carry a forty-pound bag of dog food all the way to Huntsman’s house,” he said, pulling one of the fifty-dollar bills free and handing it to the woman behind the counter. “We’ll drop you ladies off on the way, and then I’ll return tonight and bring you Misnutch’s papers,” he said, this time at least trying to pronounce the name correctly.

“How’s your daddy doing, Johnnie?” the woman behind the counter asked as she ran first the collar and then the leash in front of a machine that gave a soft beep each time. She took a small device and pointed it at the bottom of the bag, causing the machine to beep again. “I heard he fell off the roof.”

“He busted his leg in three places, but Jason and I are bringing him home this afternoon.” He smiled crookedly. “I guess that’ll teach me to do stuff when Mom asks. I told her I’d stop in and clean that chimney first chance I got, but could my old man wait? Oh, nooo, he had to climb up there and do it himself, thinking he’s still thirty goddamn years old.”

The woman scrunched up her nose. “When I went home last Saturday, I caught my father standing on a ladder washing the second-story windows.” She snorted. “Not that he’d know they were dirty, since his cataracts are so thick his eyes look white.” The woman smiled at Fiona. “Who’s your friend, Johnnie?”

“This is Fiona Gregor. She’s new in town.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “You related to Kenzie Gregor?”

“He’s my brother,” Fiona told her.

Instead of handing Johnnie his change, the woman used the money to fan her face as she sighed. “They sure as hell don’t make men like that anymore,” she said. Her eyes took on a sparkle. “But if they did, I guarantee I’d be the first one in line.”

Johnnie plucked the money out of her hand. “I believe your
husband
might have something to say to that,” he muttered. He shoved the money into his pocket, handed Fiona the leash and collar, hefted the dog food over his shoulder again, and, after a nod at the woman, headed for the door. “It’s a good thing I’m driving my mother’s car,” he said, stepping through the automatic door. “We’d have been a bit crowded in my pickup. There’s Jason and your friend. Come on.”

Again like an obedient child—or even worse, an adoring
puppy
—Fiona rushed after him, silently vowing that if she and Gabriella somehow managed to get home in one piece, she would never again put her friend in such danger.

T
race pulled into the Shop ’n Save parking lot and realized his horrible day was about to get even worse when he spotted Fiona Gregor and Gabriella Killkenny—two obviously very lost souls—standing next to Johnnie and Jason Dempster. Jason was holding a large bag of dog food and talking to Gabriella, who was looking up at him with what could only be described as rapt attention. Johnnie was down on one knee, fitting a collar around a puppy’s neck, and Fiona, holding the leash attached to the collar, was looking as if she wanted to be anywhere but where she was.

Trace shut off his truck with a muttered curse.

And so it had begun. Little miss scared of her own shadow had finally worked up the nerve to come into town, and judging by the paleness of her complexion, hell would have to freeze over before she ever left the house again. As for Gabriella … well, from what his fishing partner, Rick—who also happened to be Trace’s cousin and William
Killkenny’s new brother-in-law—had told him, the medieval teenager was too excited to be living in this century to be frightened of anything.

Trace got out of his truck and headed toward them, already having figured out what was taking place. Word down at the docks was that Dempster had unsuccessfully been trying to sell the runt of his litter for the last three weeks, and it was obvious the logger had decided that marketing the perfect companion to a single woman had proven easier than trying to convince anyone the dog would ever make a decent hunter. And although he couldn’t exactly say why, Trace felt himself walking a little taller when he noticed that Fiona actually looked relieved to see him.

Or at least she did until the puppy made a lunge for him. Her face turning quite pale again, Fiona immediately pulled the puppy back and then actually attempted to hide it behind her long coat. “Misneach, no!” she softly hissed when it continued all the way around her, nearly toppling her when the leash wrapped around her legs.

Trace dropped to one knee to catch the pup when it leapt at him again. “Hey there, squirt,” he said, taking hold of its head to keep its slobbering tongue away from his face. “Aren’t you a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed monster.”

Fiona tried pulling it off him again, and Trace realized that the pup might be a runt, but it was a damn strong little beast, when, instead of being dragged away, it pulled Fiona off balance again.

She would have fallen if Johnnie hadn’t caught hold of her shoulders. “Let go of the leash!” Johnnie growled, pulling her upright.

Fiona let the leash go as if it had burned her.

Trace grabbed hold of it and slowly stood up, then just as slowly handed it back to her. “Here, why don’t you start heading home with him?”

But it was Gabriella who finally got her to move. The young girl looped her arm through Fiona’s with a laugh. “Come on, it’s probably going to take us forever, as Misneach will to have to stop and smell every tree on the way.” She shot Trace a smile as they walked past him. “Could you bring his dog food home with you?”

Trace nodded.

“And I’ll bring his papers over this evening,” Johnnie called after them.

Trace stepped to block Johnnie’s view of the women and folded his arms over his chest. “The lady is off limits, Dempster.”

“Funny, I didn’t see your name on her.”

“Then I suggest you get glasses—though if you do come sniffing around her, you might have to trade them in for a white cane.”

Though it was subtle, Trace saw his old school buddy tense. “What are you gonna do, beat me up like you did that guy in Afghanistan? You think I can’t hold my own against a soldier who got sent home with his tail tucked between his legs?”

“I
think
you wouldn’t even hear me coming.” Trace took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Look, I’ve got no quarrel with you, Johnnie; I’m just trying to give you a friendly warning. The lady is Kenzie Gregor’s sister. And trust me, he’s not somebody you want to piss off.” He looked over at Jason. “And I suggest that if you’re interested in Gabriella, you speak to William Killkenny first.” He gave the boy a
tight grin. “Though when you do, you might want to bring a change of underwear.”

He took the bag of dog food from Jason and headed toward his truck, but then he stopped and looked back. “And for the record, my discharge was honorable,” Trace told them. “It’s the other bastard who’ll be missing Christmas with his family for the next five years. And Johnnie, you bring those papers to me at the docks tomorrow, along with whatever money Fiona gave you over a hundred bucks.”

“Five hundred dollars was a bargain.”

Trace tried not to show his shock. She’d given him all her money?

Because she had wanted the dog that badly?

Or because she hadn’t dared say no to Dempster?

Taking an educated guess, he gave a negligent shrug. “It’s your funeral when Gregor finds out you bullied his sister into buying that dog.”

“Bullied?” Johnnie glared at him for several seconds, then suddenly snorted and reached into his pocket. “What in hell is up with that woman, anyway?” he muttered as he walked over and handed Trace a wad of fifty-dollar bills. “Just tell her I changed my mind and she can have the dog. All the money she gave me is there, minus what I spent on the collar and dog food.” He shook his head. “I swear she thought I was going to drown the little runt if she didn’t buy it, and a couple of times she acted as if she thought I might drown
her
. Was she married to some bastard who abused her over there in Scotland?”

Trace shoved the money into his pocket. “Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that she likes to keep to herself.”

Johnnie arched a brow. “Maybe she prefers women.”

Even though he was tempted to solve his future problems by letting Dempster spread that particular rumor around town, Trace shook his head. “Naw, she’s just leery of men. That, and she’s trying to get used to living in a new … country.”

Johnnie extended his hand. “No hard feelings, okay?” he said, his beard curving into a smile. “I’m sorry for that crack about Afghanistan.” His smile broadened. “Although I still say I could take you. I’ve packed on some muscle since that time you punched me in the first grade.”

Trace shifted the dog food to his other shoulder and shook Johnnie’s hand. “Yeah, I suppose it takes plenty of muscle to run the toggles on your skidder and tree harvester. You come out fishing with me some day, Dempster, and I’ll show you what real work is.”