To Ride A Púca (29 page)

“I insist, let me help ye finish,” Donal said.

Much as she hated to, Neala nodded and handed him another pitch fork. Diving back in with her own pitch fork, she tried to focus on the work, not how his closeness made the stall feel so small and intimate.

“So how did ye meet me brother?” she asked.

His eyes sparkled for a moment and the hint of a smile tugged at his full lips. “I was surrounded by men who were tryin’ to capture me and he saved me.”

Even after three years, hearing about him was like a knife in the heart. But it was a hurt she was willing to endure to hear more about his time away from home.

“That’s me brother, always helpin’ others,” she said in a soft voice.

When she glanced at Donal, she saw the same sadness that pulled at her own heart reflected in his eyes.

“That he was. He was one of the best men I’ve ever known, and a great warrior as well,” Donal said.

A thrill raced through Neala’s blood as her heart sped up. “Really? I’d love to hear about some of yer battles,” she said.

“The way he channeled his energy while fightin’ was like none other I’d ever seen. He could take on twelve Danes and make it look easy,” Donal said with a faraway look in his eyes.

The pitch fork nearly fell from Neala’s hands as she stiffened and stood up straighter. “Ye knew what me brother was?” she asked, and immediately regretted it. What if that wasn’t what he had meant?

“
Tá
, there were no secrets between us. I know that yer family are druids. But ye have nothin’ to fear from me. I would never tell anyone,” he said, giving her a look that was so intense that it pulled at her heart and her power.

She had to look down to regain her composure. “Thank ye, that means a lot. I’d love to hear more,” she said.

As they worked, Donal’s deep voice told her tale after tale of his and her brother’s battles against the Danes. He had a way of keeping the stories light and humorous, despite how tragic they often were. And he didn’t spare the details like she was used to with her da’s stories, and even with Bren’s. It was clear that he cared deeply for Lorcan and that the two had been very close.

By the time they finished cleaning the stalls and bringing in hay for the horses, the barn was so warm that Neala was starting to sweat through her tunic. Her clothes clung to her, warm sweat was beaded upon her brow, and the sickly sweet smell of hard work emanated from her.

Pulling her tunic away from her chest, she let out a disgusted grunt. “I reek,” she complained.

Deep laughter rumbled from Donal. “Naw, you just smell like hard work. A woman that works hard is alluring, no matter how she smells.”

Tingles spread out from her core, making her unbearably warm, but in a very good way. Turning to put up a rake, she drew in a few deep breaths, trying to control the blush that was no doubt turning every bit of her face bright red.

Desperate though she was to clean up, she wasn’t willing to part company with him yet. The sun had barely reached the highest point in the sky which meant they had over half the day before her parents returned or Tyr awoke.

“There’s a lake close by. Would ye like to go for a swim?” she asked.

Dust flew as he brushed his hands against his thighs. He laughed and nodded. “That would be great.”

The sun enveloped them in a warm glow when they stepped out of the barn, forcing Neala to squint against its brilliance. If she wasn’t already overheated from working so hard, it would have felt wonderful.

“Tis the perfect day for a swim,” Donal said as they started down the path that led into the forest.

“Ye like the water then?”

A big smile spread across his face, so full of joy that it compelled Neala to smile as well. “I love it. But we’ve been talkin’ about me all mornin’. What about ye, what do ye like to do?” he asked.

The question took her by surprise and she gaped at him for a moment like she was daft, which was exactly what she felt like. She wasn’t used to people asking her about herself, especially boys. Even Bren hadn’t asked her much about herself.

“Well, I love to swim, and…” she hesitated, not sure if she wanted to admit the next part.

“And?” Donal prompted.

“I enjoy fightin’. It sounds wrong after listenin’ to yer stories this mornin’. People die and it’s terrible, but I don’t know… it just feels like it’s what I was meant to do,” she finally said.

He reached over and took her hand in his, surprising her so much that she almost tripped over a twig. She recovered well enough that he didn’t even seem to notice. The feel of his hand, so big and strong, wrapped around hers, was enough to make her want to melt. It was more than that though. There was a charge coming from him that made her think of a lightning storm. Only this was lightning that she wanted desperately to be touched by.

“It’s not wrong at all. Ye’re a warrior druid, tis yer nature,” he said.

Hearing it put like that stirred up something Neala wasn’t used to feeling where her power was concerned; pride. Her eyes stung and her throat clenched. Overcome by a powerful sense of connection to this dark stranger, she had to look away. If he saw such a thing in her eyes what would he think? He started to let go of her hand and she clenched all the tighter. Embarrassed or not, she wasn’t ready to lose contact with him.

After a few hard swallows, she found her voice. “I’ve never met anyone who understands what it’s like.”

Reaching over with his free hand, Donal brushed a finger along her arm. It was a light, wonderful touch that sent shivers running to her core and made her turn and look at him. “We share the same nature, ye and I. Tisn’t wrong to fight for what ye believe in and to protect what is yers. Twas something yer brother understood as well,” he said.

His brow furrowed deep and pain darkened his eyes, eyes that matched the forest around them. Recognition stirred to life but Neala had not time to decipher why, not considering what he had said.

“Me parents told me Lorcan wouldn’t have wanted that life for me, wouldn’t have wanted me to be a warrior. Do ye know how he really felt about it?” she asked.

Donal’s gaze shifted to the sun-dappled path ahead of them and he chewed at his bottom lip as if fighting to keep the words in. His fingers interwove with hers as they walked until their palms were touching in a way that managed to be both casual and intimate. Part of her wondered if it was appropriate to be holding the hand of a young man she had only met yesterday but she ignored the thought. He was a friend of her brother’s who was comforting her, that was all. Comforting
and
distracting her.

“Please tell me, Donal.”

He let out a long breath and met her gaze for a moment. “Lorcan told me a lot about ye and yer family. He said he tried to prepare ye as much as yer parents would allow.”

“Go on,” she prompted.

“He knew it was what ye were, he knew it was the only thing yer heart would allow ye to be, just like him. It was yer parents that didn’t want that life for either of ye. Lorcan was proud of ye and he wanted ye to be who ye wanted to be,” he said.

The strength drained from her, forcing Neala to stop walking. “Truly? He said that? He talked about me?” she whispered.

Though she was never one to cry over anything, she couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in her eyes. Lorcan had been the center of her world and hearing that he wanted her to embrace who she was meant everything. The moisture in her eyes blinded her and her knees started to give out. Powerful arms wrapped around her, catching her with ease.

Sobs shook her body as she let herself really cry for the first time since Lorcan’s death over three years ago. All that time she had been fighting to hold it in and stay strong, for her parents’ sakes more than hers. Something about Donal made her feel like it was finally all right to let go. He held her close while she cried, not only with his arms, but also with his power. It wrapped around her much like hers had wrapped around Ciara when she’d been trying to keep her from falling over the cliff. There was a comfort and strength to his power unlike anything she’d ever felt. Clearly, he wasn’t a druid, but he was certainly more than he appeared to be.

“He would have been so proud of ye, of how much ye love yer home, yer family, and that ye want to fight to protect them,” Donal said in a soothing tone as he stroked her hair.

The words brought her focus back to her brother, back to what she had lost, and brought a fresh wave of tears. She stopped thinking about Donal and his kindness and gave herself over to her grief. It consumed her completely, pulling powerful sobs from deep within her. Along with the sobs, all of her pain and anger were wrenched up as well, dredged from her soul, leaving it feeling cleaner somehow.

When the tears finally stopped she felt completely spent, but lighter at the same time. Until that moment she hadn’t realized how heavy the grief she’d been holding onto had been. Reluctantly, she drew away sniffling and wiped at her eyes. She could have stayed wrapped in his arms all day—wanted to in fact—but he had already held her so long that she felt like she was imposing. Donal’s tunic was damp with the moisture from her tears, making it cling to the planes of his chest. Seeing that only made her feel worse.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” she said.

He reached down to where her hands rested upon his chest and took hold of them.

“Don’t be. I’m sorry what I said upset ye,” he said.

Neala shook her head and looked down at their clasped hands. “Twasn’t ye. I’m glad ye told me. Me parents don’t talk about him, ever. They think it makes it easier, but it doesn’t. It only makes it harder.”

Keeping hold of one of her hands, Donal started down the path again. “Everyone grieves in their own way. I’m sorry ye had to go through it alone,” he said in a soft voice.

Thinking of Dubh, Neala smiled. “I haven’t exactly been alone. And now ye’re here,” she turned her smile on him.

The creases that wrinkled Donal’s nose smoothed and his face lit up as though his eyes were glowing. For a moment Neala actually thought they were, but her vision was so blurry from crying, she realized that was probably all it was. As much as she might wish it otherwise, Donal was a normal human, not a druid. She blinked a few times and his eyes looked normal again. A vulnerable look crept into them, one that was oh so enticing.

“I am indeed. Now let’s go for that swim, shall we?” he asked.

“We shall,” she said as she nearly skipped along to keep pace with his long legs.

The trees soon gave way to the tangle of underbrush that surrounded much of the lake shore. A slight breeze blew off the deep blue water, blowing strands of her hair back and drying the tears that remained on her cheeks. It took the edge off the heat of the sun that blazed down upon them out of a clear blue sky. Picking up her pace to take the lead, Neala took them down the well worn path that wove through the vines and bushes. Despite his size, Donal maneuvered the narrow path with impressive stealth, emerging onto the rocky lake shore without so much as a scratch.

“Tis beautiful here,” Donal said.

Finding the rock where she kept the bar of soap hidden, Neala sat down and unlaced her boots. “Tis me favorite place.”

The smooth blue surface that stretched across the horizon drew her gaze. She and Lorcan had spent many summers here cooling off after their chores. Bringing Donal here seemed right somehow. Memories danced vividly behind her eyes as she set her boots aside and stood to remove her breeches. Just before pushing them over her hips she paused to make sure Donal wasn’t looking. Her tunic was long enough that it would reach mid-thigh, but still, she had never worn so little in front of a man. Accept for the time in the cave with Bren, and that hadn’t exactly turned out well.

Back turned, Donal already had one leg out of his breeches. He had on tan linen drawers but they barely went past the curve of his buttocks, leaving very little of his muscular, dark-skinned body to the imagination. The sight of him pulled at her power and sent a warm flush through her body. She swallowed down the expletive that sprung upon her tongue just before it could leave her mouth.

Donal turned his head just enough that she could see the crooked smile upon his lips. “Hey now, if I don’t get to peek, neither do ye,” he said.

What, had he
felt
her eyes upon him? Neala cringed and quickly turned away. “Well, ye could warn a lass, ye know,” she said.

“What fun would that be?”

He tossed his breeches aside and took off running for the water.

Shaking her head, Neala dropped her breeches, removed the tie from her hair, shook it out, and jogged after him. The shock of the cold water didn’t even slow her down. She ran right into it, knowing that plunging past the sensitive parts was the best way to get it over with. Just ahead, Donal reached the point where the lake bottom dropped and opened up to the deep water. Rather than fall into it as she thought he might, he dove as if he had seen it coming. Wonderful, cool water flowed around her as she swam after Donal’s splashing feet.

They swam out until the shore was only a distant line on the horizon, Donal keeping pace with her all the way. Relaxing, Neala took a deep breath and floated effortlessly on the surface. Donal treaded water beside her, his black hair floating about him. A nearly overwhelming desire to touch his hair, his broad shoulders, or the curve of his jaw, swept over her.

The pull that drew her to him was terribly hard to resist and was profoundly confusing. She barely knew this young man, how could she feel so drawn to him? It felt as though her very power was betraying Bren.

“Now that’s not fair,” he said.

Her attention snapped back to Donal and all thoughts of Bren faded. “And what’s that?”

Arms fanning out to her sides, Neala enjoyed the feel of the water beneath her fingertips. It helped to keep her hands busy, else she feared they would find their way to Donal.

“With all this muscle I can’t float like ye can,” he said.

She gave him a look of mock surprise. “Are ye callin’ me fat?”

Eyebrows lifting in an appreciative look, Donal’s eyes traveled the length of her body. Their weight was almost as tantalizing as she imagined his hands would be.