The Stag Lord (36 page)

“Shay would be your friend. A grown-up friend who will force you to eat your vegetables, go to bed. And”—he poked Cor in the tummy—“who scolds you when your puppy messes in the house.”

“I think I want an Irish wolfhound.” Cor swung from Bann's hand as they hurried to the truck.

“No. Every Celtic hero nowadays has an Irish wolfhound for a sidekick. Try again.”

“Poodle?”

“You're joking.”

They climbed back into the truck. Turning the rig around, Bann bounced back on the highway and pointed the truck westward. Homeward.
We should make High Springs in time to take Shay out to dinner
. The thought made him press harder on the gas pedal.

Cor tried again. “Saint Bernard?”

“Too slobbery.”

“Greyhound?”

“Too skinny.”

“Pug?”

“I wouldn't be able to tell you two apart.”

“Hey!”

34

B
LOWING A STRAND OF
hair from her face, Shay stored the cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, then looked around with a
humph
of satisfaction. The great room was almost back to its pre–Fir Bolg attack appearance, bloodstains cleaned and damaged furniture awaiting repair. Except for the kitchen table. Shay had carried the shattered pieces out to the garage.
Oh, well. I always wanted a round one, anyway
. She glanced at the window.
Nice of Hugh to arrange to have the busted windows and door fixed so fast. Guess I should tackle the guest room next
.

She dragged herself down the hall. The beds in the room were still made. Somewhat. A forgotten sock, boy-small and boy-dirty, peeked out from under Cor's. She stripped his bed first, dumping the sheets in a pile in the middle of the floor, then started on Bann's. Picking up his pillow, she refrained from smelling it.
I'm not
that
pathetic
. With a snap, she yanked the pillowcase off and tossed it in the pile. Sheets followed.

After starting the washing machine, she wandered the house, searching for something to do to occupy her mind and fill the emptiness. She kept thinking she heard Max pawing at the back door, or the click of his nails on the wood floor. Max reminded her of Cor, which reminded her of Bann.
I miss all
three
of my boys
. She couldn't honestly say which one she missed the most.

After a long shower, she changed into clean jeans and a sweater and headed to the kitchen to see if she had anything edible. She stood in front of the open refrigerator for a few minutes, waiting for food to magically appear, then closed it with a grimace.
Tea, at least
. She snagged the kettle and walked over to the sink. Stopping to admire the final rays of the afternoon sun pinking the tops of the boulders, she sighed, then reached for the faucet knob.

A low rumble made her freeze.

The rumbling grew louder.

Heart thumping, Shay dropped the kettle in the sink with a clang and sprinted for the front door. Heaving it open, she stepped outside.

Bann's truck roared down the street toward her, the camper dancing behind like the tail end of a conga line. The sunlight on the windshield hid the faces of father and son. As it squealed to a halt, the man didn't even bother to pretend to try to park it. He simply turned off the motor and climbed out, holding the door open for Cor to slide out his side as well.

“We're getting a puppy, Shay!” Cor announced, trotting beside his father as they hurried up the driveway toward her, hand in hand.

“
We
?” Shay asked weakly.

“We,” Bann said firmly. Still holding Cor's hand in his, he wrapped his free arm around Shay.

Mindful of his injuries, Shay pressed her cheek against his. “What about…” she murmured.

“We'll work it out as we go along,” Bann whispered back. “‘Twill be a bumpy ride, darlin'. Cor and I, we're a pair, as I've said before.”

“That you are.” She pulled back enough to stare up into his eyes. “And I wouldn't have it any other—”

“Shay?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and—”

Shay finished his sentence in the best way possible. A corner of her mind realized that this was the first time they had kissed in front of Cor. Except for the disastrous kiss in the kitchen the night the Fir Bolgs had attacked. It seemed liked a thousand days ago. She forced herself to end it before it could become heated. Okay—
more
heated. “We'll pick this up later.”

“Oh, I promise ye that.” His breath tickled her ear.

Grinning so hard her face hurt, she stepped back and stood looking from father to son and back. “So, does this mean I'm stuck with you two again?”

“Yup.” Cor beamed up at her. His smile faded after a moment. “I mean, I-I think so.” He glanced up at Bann. “That's what we talked about all the way here.”

Shay's heart danced a little jig—an Irish jig, of course—at the words. But still not one hundred percent sure of what
we'll work it out as we go along
actually meant and feeling a little dizzy from the speed things were happening, she threw an unspoken question at Bann with a lift of a eyebrow.

“Aye. We've a great deal to talk about. But first, supper out. Have you a favorite restaurant?”

“I know a great place downtown, Jack Quinn's, that serves a sell-your-firstborn-for-their-fish-and-chips platter. And they usually have some live music.”

“Excellent. And as luck would have it, we've a firstborn to sell.” He ruffled Cor's hair; he batted his father's hand away. “We'll take my truck.”

Shay, with Cor bouncing beside her babbling nonstop about dogs, watched as Bann parked the rig in its customary spot at the side of the house. After he unhitched his truck, he pulled it into the driveway next to Shay's SUV.

Helping Cor carry in clothes and personal items from the camper, she noticed Bann frowning as he kicked the parking blocks under the trailer wheels. She let go Cor go ahead with another armload.

“Hey. Everything okay?” She leaned against the front of the camper and stuffed her hand in her jeans pocket, the evening air growing chilly. “Are your injuries hurting?”

“A wee bit tender. Nothing more.” Crouching down, he began wrapping the security chain around the hitch, eyes fixed on his task. He cleared his throat. “About the sleeping arrangements…”

“Say no more. We don't want to make the situation awkward for Cor. Let's keep things the way they were for now. You know…until we decide…” She let the rest of the statement drift away on the breeze.

“Thank you.” Bann peeked up at her through his lashes.

Shay's stomach fluttered.
Does he know how sizzling he looks when he does that? Because he's sure got it down to an art form
.

“Although you should know,” he added, “Cor is a sound sleeper.”

“Meaning…” Shay asked, hoping it meant what she hoped it meant.

“Meaning”—he gave the chain a final tug and stood up—“once he's asleep, he tends to stay so.” Stepping closer, he planted his hands on the camper on either side of her head, trapping her between the vehicle and his body.

Which she didn't mind in the least. The heat from his body warmed her nicely. As did the look in his eyes. She lifted her face. “All night?”

Bann moved even closer, their bodies less than an inch apart. “All. Night.” His breath ghosted along her cheek.

Cor made a gagging noise as he darted past. His feet clanged on the aluminum steps as he clambered inside, the camper rocking slightly. “Okay, I'm done,” he announced, his voice echoing. A few moments later, he emerged. Eschewing the steps, he jumped from the camper and landed with a grunt. “Enough kissing already. Let's go eat.” He started for the front of the house.

Shay laughed when Bann darted after his son and caught him from behind. “
More
kissing, did ye say?” Pinning Cor's arms to his sides, he leaned over and buzzed the side of the boy's neck.

“Nooo! I said
enough kissing
!” Cor protested, nearly breathless with the giggles. “Your beard's too scratchy.” He squirmed, trying to wiggle free.

Releasing the boy, Bann gave him a swat on the rear. “Go wash up.” He turned and held out a hand to Shay.

Hand in hand, they followed Cor inside. Declaring that he, too, needed to freshen up and shave, Bann disappeared inside the bathroom.

Shay took the opportunity to change into a newer sweater, a black V-neck cashmere that hugged her in all the right ways, and a pair of boots with just enough heel to give a swing to her walk. She hesitated, then added a belt with a leather sheath to her outfit. She selected one of her favorite bronze blades, slim and lethal and just this side of Colorado's weapons' law, and thrust it into the sheath.

High-fiving herself for having washed her hair earlier, she bent over and brushed it vigorously, remembering with a smile Bann commenting that he liked it loose and flowing around her shoulders. Then she applied a dusting of blush, a few strokes of mascara, and some tinted lip balm. She studied herself in the mirror, then, humming, she headed to the living room.

Bann and Cor were waiting for her.

Cor was dressed in one of the sweaters Ann had sent, a cream-colored crewneck sweater, just a trifle large on him. Hand-knitted by Hugh's mother, its pattern spoke of the Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland. His hair was somewhat tamed and his face scrubbed. He held his new jacket in one hand.

Bann's hair was damp and slicked back, except for that lock that always flopped over one eye. He was freshly shaven, as well. Under a canvas barn coat, he wore a button-down royal-blue shirt, a shade darker than his eyes, tucked neatly into a newer pair of jeans. His torc gleamed around his throat. She noticed he was packing a blade, too.

“Wow. You guys are a handsome pair.” She grabbed her purse and a leather jacket from the coat closet. “All the other women are going to be so jealous.”

“As are the men.” Bann helped her on with her coat, then reached for the doorknob.

Shay's cell phone binged. Making a face, she dug it out of her purse and looked at the screen. Shock emptied the air from her lungs. “What the hell?”

35

F
IVE MINUTES LATER, THEY
were rolling.

Bann drove faster than was prudent, considering the rush-hour traffic and the fact that he had spent the day driving to Kansas and back. A fact that his still-healing wounds reminded him of with every bump and pothole. “Did they say when it happened?” He braked, then jerked the wheel to avoid doing a Ben Hur on a bicyclist braving the cold. Turning off the busy thoroughfare onto the more serene streets of Hugh's neighborhood, he downshifted as the road began winding up into the foothills.

“They didn't know.” Shay glanced at him over Cor seated between them. “It could've been any time since we buried him. They only just noticed it when they decided to take a short hike this evening.”

“Dad? What's going on?” Cor looked from Bann to Shay to Bann again. One foot jiggled against the floorboard with a tap-tap-tap.

The boy had been strangely non-inquisitive when Shay had announced they were going back to Hugh and Ann's instead of to dinner. Even when she insisted they all bring an overnight bag, just in case, the boy had simply nodded and repacked.

Bann rubbed his jaw, trying to figure out how to explain everything to his son without sounding ghoulish. He gave up. “Something has disturbed Max's grave.”

“What's that mean?”

“It means something, or someone, has removed the rocks and the dirt.”
And Max's body
. He chided himself for being too cowardly for saying
that
to the boy.

“Why?”

“We don't know, son.”

For a long minute, the only sound was the protest of the engine as the truck labored around another steep switchback.

Then Cor spoke in a low voice. “Was it Max?”

The hairs on Bann's neck snapped to attention.
Now, where would he get an idea like that?
“What do you mean?”

“Did he come back? And climb out?”

“No, kiddo.” Shay took one of Cor's hands in hers. “Even if we really, really love someone and wish something like that could happen, it just doesn't work that way. Pets don't come back to life.” She draped an arm around his shoulder. “Except in Stephen King novels.”

Slowing as he neared Hugh's property, Bann frowned at the closed gates.
Odd. They knew we were on our way
. He cranked the window down and was reaching for the keypad when the metal barrier rumbled open. In the dusk, the boars on the gates seem to bow them inside the protective walls. They rolled along through the trees toward the house. Every window on the ground floor was a square of yellow.

As they neared the front, he noticed a Jeep was parked off to one side. He pulled up beside it with a squeal of brakes. Before he could exit, Shay jumped out of her side, holding the door open for Cor to clamber down after her. She waited for Bann as the boy raced to the front door.

“Weren't we just here?” she said with a rueful grin.

“This morning, I believe.”

In spite of his apprehension, Bann smiled when Shay took his hand and led him toward the house. The front door swung open as Cor's foot hit the top step. Hugh and Ann appeared, their shadows painting black silhouettes across the porch.

“Cormac Boru!” Hugh swept Cor into a hug. “Why, you've grown since last we met.”

“You just saw me this morning,” Cor pointed out, enduring the embrace with a minimum of wiggling. Tilting his head back, he grinned up at the Knight.

Hugh let go and chucked Cor under the chin. “That long, eh?”

“So, does this mean what I think it means?” Ann pointed to Bann and Shay's joined hands. “Because my earlier threat still stands, Shay Doyle.”

“What threat was that?” Bann leaned over to kiss Ann on the cheek.