To Ride A Púca (8 page)

“And ye as well Dierdre,” Neala said with a smile.

Dierdre put a bundle of rosemary into a basket and stood. Her eyes flicked to the paddock and back to Neala. Something flashed in them. Was it regret, nervousness? It passed too quickly for Neala to tell.  “Ye didn’t come alone did ye?” she asked.

The way Dierdre narrowed her eyes and placed a hand upon her hip made Neala look away. “I did,” she admitted.

Dierdre made a tsking noise. “Ye shouldn’t have done that dear. The woods are not safe for a lass alone,” she said.

The truth of her words stung. She had come far too close to finding out just how dangerous the woods were. “I know,” she mumbled as she chanced a look up.

Dierdre gave her a knowing smile that made Neala want to hide behind her hair. She was pretty sure she knew what the woman was thinking, that she couldn’t wait to see Bren. While the main reason had been to repay Dierdre a little, Neala couldn’t deny that was true as well. She needed to continue her training, the sooner the better.

“What have ye got there?” Dierdre asked as she leaned in close to peek in Neala’s basket.

The fact that she’d gotten so easily distracted by the thought of Bren made her blush, but she pushed the embarrassment aside. “Blackberries, they’re for ye,” she said.

A small squeal escaped Dierdre and she clapped her hands before briefly embracing Neala. Eyes wide and filled with delight, she accepted the basket and started for the cottage.

“Thank ye! I’m going to put these in a bowl so ye can have yer basket back,” she said.

As they walked Dierdre went on and on about the cobbler she’d been thinking of making and hadn’t had time to gather berries for. Her kindness was a lot for Neala to take in. Aside from her parents, most people wouldn’t even talk to her. It was refreshing to meet someone who was so easily accepting and friendly.

After handing the basket back, Dierdre looked down at the dress she was wearing, seemingly considering the hemline. It was a plain beige dress with lovely patterns stitched in green along the hem, waist, and bodice. Neala wasn’t much one for dresses but she liked the simple beauty of this one. Maybe it was just because Dierdre was wearing it.

“It’ll do for the village. Come on, I’ll escort ye there,” she said as she grabbed a cloak off a peg by the door.

Shock rooted Neala to the spot for a moment. “Why the village?” she asked as she rushed to catch up with her.

Dierdre waved a hand and turned toward the barn. “It’s a lovely day for a ride and besides, ye’ll need someone to escort ye home. Bren should be just about finished with his work for the day.”

A mixture of dread and excitement churned in Neala’s stomach. She wanted to see Bren. In fact, she hadn’t realized how bad until the possibility was presented. But going into a strange village where she didn’t know anyone did not sound appealing. Going into a village where she was known was bad enough.

“No Dierdre, really ye don’t have to. It was not my intent to impose upon ye,” Neala protested.

With a heave, Dierdre slid the barn door open and stepped in to the nickered greeting of a horse. The scents of hay and horse mingled with that of dried herbs in a manner that was odd but not unpleasant. It reminded Neala of something. Her eyes were drawn up to the hayloft. Hanging from the rafters above the bundles of hay was every herb she could imagine and several she couldn’t. On the floor level there were two stalls on one side of the barn and a makeshift forge and an anvil on the other. This explained why Bren smelled like spices and steel. It looked like his private area for blacksmithing.

“Ye are not imposin’. I have to go into the village to see the butcher today anyway,” Dierdre said as she headed for the horse’s stall.

Left with no other argument, Neala followed along. Soon they were both mounted up and riding through the dense forest on a trail that looked like it was used by deer more often than by horses. The sun was barely able to slip through the thick pine boughs overhead, but considering how warm the day had become, Neala didn’t mind. The cool shade felt wonderful and helped keep Dubh from overheating. Dierdre chatted companionably, asking about Neala’s family and home. The woman was a good listener which made her easy to talk to, but she also had a knack for filling the silence when Neala didn’t know what to say.

Unlike her parents, Dierdre talked openly about being a druid and said that the more they used their power the closer they were to the circle of life. When discussing this with her, Neala was careful to skirt around how her own parents felt about it. It both fascinated and angered Neala to know that other druids didn’t suppress their nature. When they stepped from the forest onto a road Dierdre abruptly changed the conversation to talk about the village. Apparently her openness only went so far as the safety of the forest. But then Neala could hardly fault her for that. Embracing being a druid in your own home was one thing but talking about it in public only invited trouble.

The village looked a lot like her own, with houses around its borders and people working in the fields to either side of the road. People smiled and waved as they rode by. Some even called out in greeting.
That
was very different from her village. Either these people didn’t suspect Dierdre was a druid or they didn’t care. The second option didn’t seem very likely.

A touch of Neala’s leg moved Dubh closer to Deirdre’s horse. Dierdre tensed and cast Dubh an anxious look before covering it with a flutter of her long lashes. A small pain pierced her heart. Of all people, she didn’t want Dierdre to believe the silly rumors about Dubh just because he was a big, spirited, black horse. She knew she should give the woman some space to make her comfortable, but there was something she had to know first. She leaned over and whispered, “Do they know what ye are?”

Dierdre gave her a wide-eyed look. “Course not,” she whispered.

Neala shifted Dubh away from Dierdre’s horse. It was the answer she had expected, but it was still a disappointment. The streets grew busier as they got further into the village and became surrounded by buildings. Everyone seemed to know and like Dierdre. Young men, some older, smiled at Neala and even turned to give her a second look full of appreciation. She wasn’t used to men and boys looking at her like that and she found she liked it. It was nice not to be sneered at. Sure it was only because they didn’t know what she was, but it was still kind of nice.

“People here are so kind,” Neala said.

“Yer village isn’t like this?” Dierdre asked.

“No.”

Dierdre frowned. “That’s sad.”

Neala agreed but didn’t say so. Dierdre was open about being a druid in her own home, had supported Bren embracing his power, and still managed to keep it a secret. If Deirdre’s family could do it that meant hers could too. It stung bitterly because it meant she shouldn’t have had to grow up isolated like she had. Neala hadn’t thought it was possible to get angrier at her parents but it was. That anger faded away when they turned a corner and came upon the blacksmith’s shop.

It was an open shop with no walls, only a roof and support beams. Pieces of plate armor and horseshoes of all sizes hung from the ceiling and beams. Inside were an anvil, a forge, and Bren. He wore only a pair of breeches as he swung a massive hammer that had to weigh at least ten pounds. The hammer rose and fell, making a rhythmic clinking sound as it connected with a plate of armor that sat on his anvil. Sweat plastered his hair to his face and rolled down the muscles of his chest, drawing Neala’s eyes to where the sweat pooled in his belly button.

The day suddenly seemed way too hot and the air too thick to breathe.

“Dear, look who I brought by!” Dierdre called out between clinks.

The words broke the hold Bren’s half-naked body had on Neala’s eyes and she was able to drag her gaze up to his face. It was a good thing too because Bren looked up and his eyes locked on hers. His face lit up and his smile was so huge and genuine it compelled her to return it. He put the hammer down and grabbed a cloth off the table beside him. Wiping his brow with the cloth, he moved from behind the anvil and approached them.

“Neala, it’s good to see ye,” he said.

The way he said her name made warmth wash over her and scattered her thoughts as thoroughly as the sight of his bare chest had. The best part was, she could tell he meant it.

“And ye as well,” she managed.

Neala watched from beneath her bangs as Bren wiped the sweat off his chest. She was afraid he’d feel the weight of her eyes but she couldn’t look away. It wasn’t just that Bren was in great shape, it was that he was the kindest man she’d ever met and that somehow he seemed interested in her, or at least tolerant of her. Such things made him far more attractive than a handsome face and body. Never in her life had she imagined she’d find such a combination in a man.

“Brendan, are ye close to being finished for the day? Neala could use an escort home,” Dierdre asked.

“I am. I was just getting’ some of tomorrow’s work done while I waited for a few people to pick up their armor,” he said.

Dierdre dismounted and handed the reins of her horse to Bren. “Perfect. I’ll stay and wait for yer patrons and ye can escort Neala home,” she said.

Giving her a stern look, Bren shook his head. “I’m not leavin’ ye without a horse,” he said.

She waved a hand at him. “Nonsense, I’ll be fine,” she said.

Bren wrapped the horse’s reins around the hitching post in front of the shop. “Of course ye will because ye’ll have yer horse. I can walk. The exercise will do me good. O’Doul should be by to pick up his shoulder plate. Promise me ye’ll have him ride with ye,” he said.

The way he looked after his ma was so charming that Neala couldn’t help but smile. Of all the boys in her village, she was fairly certain none of them would put their ma first like this. Unless of course Bren just didn’t want to take her. Her smile wilted ever so slightly.

Dierdre rolled her eyes as she stepped into the shade of the shop. “All right. Sometimes I swear ye forget which of us is the parent.”

The look he gave her was stern but the kiss he placed on her cheek was gentle and affectionate. He doused the cloth he held in a bucket of water and washed the sweat from his body. Not bothering to dry off, he pulled a jerkin on, grabbed a small package wrapped in cloth, then approached Dubh.

“Does he mind two riders?” he asked.

The idea of Bren riding so close behind her stirred Neala’s power and made her heart pump faster. She did her best to look relaxed on the outside.

“He won’t even notice,” she said.

Bren pulled something from his pocket and held it up to Dubh’s nose. It looked like a sweet treat of some kind. The stallion’s nostrils flared as he drew in the scent, then his lips snatched it up. He was still chewing when he pushed his nose at Bren again, doing his best to get at his pockets. Laughing, Bren scratched his neck and stepped out of his reach. In an effort to give Bren as much room as possible to mount, Neala scooted forward almost onto Dubh’s neck. Hands on Dubh’s back, Bren jumped and landed with his chest across the horse. A moment later he swung his leg over and scooted up against Neala’s back.  

“Ye both be careful, and Bren, be home before dark,” Dierdre warned.

“Yes ma,” Bren said in a tone that made Neala think he was probably smiling.

It was hard to focus with his legs burning against hers and his hard chest pressed up against her back. He felt even more amazing than he looked. That thought made her want to die of embarrassment.

She reined Dubh around and got back on the road. They called out goodbyes over the clip clop of Dubh’s hooves against the hard-packed dirt. Neala was glad her back was to Dierdre so she couldn’t see the look on her face. It was not a look a ma should see.

People smiled and waved. A few men gave Bren an approving nod as they rode through the village. Neala waved back, enjoying the positive attention. A burly-looking man with a jovial face stepped out of a shop and called out a greeting.

“O’Doul! Good day to ye. Would ye mind stoppin’ by the shop and escortin’ me ma home?” Bren asked.

A huge grin spread across the man’s face. “I’d be honored. Consider it done,” he said.

“Thank ye,” Bren said as they rode past.

The man waved and started in the opposite direction at a brisk pace.

“Me ma’s going to skin me for that,” Bren said with a laugh.

“Why? He seems like a nice man,” Neala said. And he was handsome enough for an older man, but she thought it was best if she left that part out.

“Oh he is. It’s just that he’s been after me ma for a while now. Still, I had to do it or she would have ridden home alone. She’s as stubborn as she is lovely,” he said.

Neala smiled. Most young men his age would be afraid to say anything kind like that about their ma. At least, most of the young men Neala knew.

A shop door opened and a black-haired young man stepped out. His eyes lit up when he saw Bren and a sly smile crept across his lips.

“We were just comin’ to look for ye,” the young man said.

“Liam! Hey, sorry, I’ve got to escort a lady home,” Bren told him.

Liam gave Neala an appreciative smile as his eyes traveled over her. A blush heated her cheeks. Liam was close to Bren’s height but wasn’t quite as muscular. He had black hair that was pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck, exposing a kind face that hadn’t been shaved in a few days. Laughter seemed to sit behind his eyes and tease the corners of his mouth. The energy that surrounded him was a mixture of yellow and orange that was both strong and comforting, the weight and appearance of it revealing him to be a druid.

Three others came out of the shop behind Liam, two young ladies and another young man. By the press of their power, they were all druids Neala realized.

“Well then, at least introduce us to yer lovely lass,” Liam said.

A young woman stepped beside Liam, drawing Neala’s gaze. She was almost as tall as he and was fit as a warrior. Hair as dark red as heart blood was pulled into a tight braid that hung over her shoulder. Her features were somewhere between too sharp and lovely, but a gracious smile pushed them over into lovely. Green energy flecked through with purple surrounded her in a beautiful aura that was powerful and soothing at the same time.