“Aye. He did not care for the journey,” Father Daar said from right beside her, also looking out at the waterfall. “Nor has he cared much for the new life he’s found himself living.”
He took hold of her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. “Until now, child. He’s found you, Mercedes. And he’s not going to let anything come between the two of you.
Not my magic, not the blackness visiting this valley, not even your own inability to believe. He’s said his vows before God and man and claimed you as his. You belong to each other now. So accept what I have shown you for the gift that it is.”
“Morgan called youdrùidh. What does that mean? Who are you?”
“I’m what your modern language would call a wizard, and I’m nearly fifteen hundred years old.”
“A wizard?” she repeated, taking a step back.
He frowned at her. “And a priest,” he said defensively. “And a hungry one at that,” he tacked on, looking toward where the pool spilled into the valley. He walked back to the fire and sat down again, working it back into flames.
Sadie stared at the cane he used as a poker. What he was saying, what she had just seen, it was… it was the stuff of fantasies and ancient legends that continued to survive despite modern science explaining it away.
But science couldn’t explain her missing scars or the very fact that she was alive right now. And neither could she. Her dead theory made more sense, but she hoped with all her heart that she was alive. She had a new baby sister coming soon, and she wanted to be here when she was born. She wanted to see her mother get married. She wanted to have babies of her own.
So, yes. She wanted to believe in the magic.
Morgan stepped through the towering trees just then and stopped and stared at her.
There were several trout hanging from his belt, his sword was still on his back, and if she looked hard enough, she could see that same warrior from the vision the priest had given her.
And Sadie knew then, no matter what means had brought them together, that she loved Morgan.
She launched herself into his arms, breaking into overjoyed laughter, confident that he would catch her and hold her safe—forever.
“We’re alive, Morgan.” She laughed into his startled face, which she couldn’t stop kissing over and over. “Wonderfully alive, thanks to a wizard’s magic.”
He held her so tightly that her last words were squeaked rather than spoken. He buried his face in her neck, his whole body trembling with what she suspected was relief.
“I swear you two spend more time cuddling than looking to practical matters,” Father Daar called from the fire. “Ya have a lifetime for that foolishness, Morgan. I want my supper.”
Still crushing her tightly to him, Morgan carried her over to the fire and set her down by the priest. He tore the trout from his belt and tossed them at Father Daar’s feet.
“Eat, then, old man,” Morgan said, darting a look at Sadie and then back at the priest. “I haven’t the time right now. I’ve got to go find our sniper before he finds us again.”
Sadie was standing before she finished gasping. “You will not! The man has a gun, and all you’ve got is that… that sword,” she said emphatically, waving a hand at the inadequate weapon sticking up past his head. “You’re staying right here.”
Morgan took hold of her shoulders and pinned her with his eyes. “As beautiful and warm as this place is, we cannot hide here forever,gràineag. We have to leave eventually, and we cannot do that until I’m sure we’ll be safe.”
He pulled her against him gently and cupped the back of her head into his shoulder. “I’
ll be careful, wife. He won’t even see me coming.”
“It—it’s not Dwayne and Harry,” she muttered into his shoulder, trying to wiggle back to look at him. But he wouldn’t loosen his hand. “Don’t hurt them. It’s someone else.”
“I know, Mercedes. I will not hurt them.” He finally leaned back to look at her, now holding her hair in his fist, his grip emphasizing his words. “In return, you must promise to stay here with Daar. You’ll be safe with thedrùidh.”
He was holding her so tightly she couldn’t even nod. His entire body was filled with tension.
“I’ll protect Father Daar,” she told him instead.
Father Daar snorted at her response.
The right corner of Morgan’s mouth curved in amusement. He kissed her soundly on the lips, then stepped back.
“Wait.” Sadie turned to the priest as she untied the leather cord she was still wearing.
“Father Daar. Give Morgan another cherrywood knot to take with him,” she said, handing the leather to the priest.
Father Daar clasped his cane to his chest protectively, fingering the empty leather cord now in his hand. “I can’t,” he said, darting a look from her to Morgan. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve only one decent-sized burl left that would have enough power to do any good,” he explained. “And if I take it off, my staff will be useless.”
“Then give him your whole cane,” Sadie insisted, reaching for it.
“Nay!” Daar yelped, quickly tucking the cane behind his back. “He’s liable to set this entire valley on fire. The magic’s too powerful for mere mortals.”
“Well, he needs something.”
“I have you, wife,” Morgan said, turning her to face him. “Nothing can stop me from coming back to you, Mercedes.”
“You’ll have your clan’s help,” Daar interjected. “Callum and Charlotte stopped by my cabin yesterday on their way to Gu Bràth. Callum said he’d return with Greylen and Ian.” He waved in the direction of the valley. “They’re probably already out there, hunting for whoever broke into Mercedes’ cabin.”
Morgan gave Sadie a reassuring smile. “See? You have nothing to worry about.”
“Does your brother or Callum or this Ian fellow have guns?”
“Aye. We all do.”
“Then where’s yours?”
“Home in my gun cabinet. I’ll be okay,gràineag. Now, make our priest some supper,” he said, kissing her quickly on her still protesting mouth. “And try not to kill the man with your cooking,” he said as a parting shot, turning and loping into the darkness at the end of the pool. He disappeared before Sadie could tell him at least to take Faol.
She turned back to Father Daar.
“Did you know that burned trout is an acquired taste?” she asked the man of the cloth who was still eyeing her suspiciously, still guarding his cane behind his back.
“I do know what that word is now, that you asked me about the other day,” the old priest said instead, his clear blue eyes suddenly sparkling with mischief.
“Gray-agch?” Sadie whispered, stepping closer. “What? What does it mean?”
The old man rubbed his beard with the end of his cane and sent her a satisfied smirk.
“Well, girl.Gràineag is Gaelic for ‘hedgehog.’”
Chapter Twenty-one
Morgan stepped through the towering treesthat protected the pool and out into the cold night, letting his eyes adjust from the bright glow of the grotto to the darkness of the forest. Faol whined beside him and stood up, his tail wagging and his eyes glowing green with their own inner light. The wolf was licking his lips, finishing off the trout Morgan had given him earlier.
“You be ready, my friend,” he told the wolf in Gaelic. “I give Mercedes only an hour before she comes sneaking out here. Guard her, and keep her from wandering off the side of this mountain and getting herself killed.”
He hunched down and ruffled the wolf’s fur. “It seems we’ve gotten ourselves agràineag, wolf, who has more heart than common sense sometimes. Nothing else can explain her acceptance of us.”
Morgan smiled into the night as he thought about the afternoon he’d just spent with Mercedes. She’d been so playful and passionate when they’d made love. And so open with her now perfect body. Not an ounce of shyness did she possess, now that she felt beautiful. He would give his sword arm to have possessed her that way before she’d been healed. He’d never have that chance now, thanks to the magic. He would never be able to prove to Mercedes that love did not come with conditions.