At least the MacKeage camp had heard of Cùram, once Robbie had actually dared to mention the man by name. But the last anyone remembered seeing him had been a month ago. To the MacKeages, Cùram was a warrior known mostly for his unusual tactics on the fighting field and for his jeweled sword that he claimed had been a gift from the fairies. He was a young, handsome, rather quiet man, who was said to rise as eagerly to the call of war as he did to the call of the ladies.
As for the tree itself, Robbie was sure it was there; he couldfeel the hum of its powerful energy when he walked the woods north of the MacKeage village. But he had seen no tree with any sort of markings or any oak larger than one he could wrap his arms around.
He was certainly honing his skills with a sword, though. First on the training field with several MacKeage warriors and again with a chase through the forest by five MacBain idiots.
His ancestors were sorely trying his patience. He had hoped to avoid actually killing anyone, but by God, the next MacBain who cut him was getting his soul dispatched to hell.
With a groan pulled from the deepest regions of his body, Robbie finally crawled out of bed. The house had grown quiet with one final bang of the porch door, and he limped over to the window, rested his arms on the sash, and watched Catherine and the four boys walk Nathan and Nora down the driveway.
Robbie found his first smile in eight days. Nora was perched on Gunter’s shoulders, her tiny hands waving excitedly as she talked nonstop. Nathan was walking between Cody and Peter, showing off one of his school papers. Rick was carrying two small backpacks as he followed, listening intently to Nora.
And bringing up the rear was his fourth andfinal housekeeper, her hands tucked in her pockets, her face bathed by the early-morning sun, and a contented smile on her sweet little mouth.
He had her, Robbie thought with a smile of his own. Certainly not in his bed yet, but he had the little cat almost eating out of his hand. He snorted. She should damn well be getting used to his body by now—she’d seen him naked enough times.
She was also getting used to his touch, albeit slowly, and seemed to be breathing easier whenever he got close. She had enrolled her kids in school, was amazing with the boys, and apparently didn’t mind telling a good fib. And she kept sewing him up without demanding to know how he kept getting hurt.
Robbie guessed his size wasn’t helping his cause. Hell, his gender was the biggest barrier he had to break through. But he would. Because he had realized, when he’d opened his eyes in the cabin and found himself tied to the bed, that not only had his egg thief saved his life, but that she wasthe one.
He’d promised his father that if he ever crossed paths with a woman who could handle his calling, he’d snatch her up before she could know what she was getting herself into.
Aye, Catherine’s fears were mere illusions masking her true nature. The woman was strong in an utterly feminine way, brave, compassionate, resourceful, intelligent, and beautiful. She was perfect for him. He need only convinceher of that truth.
Time was on his side. Proximity, too. She couldn’t very well remain guarded against him while living under his roof. Aye, providence had brought Catherine here, but now it was up to him to win her heart.
Robbie watched her wave good-bye to the retreating school bus and then to the boys as they drove out of the driveway. Claiming Catherine might require some gentling, a deep well of patience, and a bit of cunning—but hey, all was fair in love and war, wasn’t it?
He rather hoped Ronald Daniels did show up. What better way to impress the lady than to slay her dragon?
Robbie turned from the window, lazily scratching the healed wound on his shoulder, and smiled. He had the little cat to himself for the day, and he might as well give her tail another gentle tug.
He slipped into his pants, wondering just how open-minded Catherine Daniels was, since he was about to ask her to take out the pink silk stitches in his side and shoulder.
By Catherine’s count, they’d only been in for a week, but including the seven days of his last adventure and the one day he’d slept away, his wounds had been healing for over two weeks.
Aye, he would soon learn if she could live with the magic.
Chapter Twelve
Catherine placed thelast breakfast plate in the dishwasher and picked up a cloth and started wiping the table just as the phone rang. She ran to it quickly, not wanting it to wake up Robbie, and caught it on the second ring.
“Hello,” she said into the receiver.
“Ah, hello. Is Robbie there?” came the obviously surprised voice on the other end of the line. “Nay, before ya get him, am I speaking to the brave woman who took on the task of babysitting five men?”
She frowned at the wall. “Yes, this is Catherine Daniels.”
“I’m Robbie’s father, Michael,” he said. “And I’ve been hearing some impressive tales about ya,” he continued, now with an obvious smile in his voice. “Are they true?”
“Ah… that depends,” Catherine whispered, tightening her grip on the phone. “What exactly have you heard?”
“Only that you’re wise enough to want a stout stick,” he said with a chuckle. “And that you’re beautiful as well.”
“You’ve been talking to Winter,” Catherine said, carrying the portable phone over to the table and sitting down.
“And Ian,” he added. “Have ya needed to use the stick yet?”
“Not yet. The boys have been perfect angels.”
“It wasn’t the boys I was referring to,” he said softly. “Is my son there, or has he left already?”
“He’s not here,” Catherine said, squaring her shoulders as she planned her fib. “And I’m not sure where he went or when he’ll be back. Can I give him a message for you?”
“Aye. Could ya tell him his mum is wishing to see him. It’s been over a week since he’s even talked with her.”
“Oh, sure, I’ll tell him. But he’s been awful busy. One of his tree harvesters broke down, and the priest up on the mountain—Father Daar, I think he said his name was—hasn’t been feeling well, so he’s been looking after him. And then he had to rescue me and my children and then tow my car, and I think there was something about a well pump that he had to replace.”
A soft chuckle came over the phone. “Ya not only housekeep, I see, but ya’re protective as well. That’s good, Miss Daniels. Those boys could use some mothering.”
Catherine wasn’t sure if he was lumping Robbie in with the boys or not. “Please, call me Catherine,” she told him.
“Aye, then, Catherine, if ya could just ask my son to squeeze us in between his many chores, I’d appreciate it.”
“I-I will,” she whispered, realizing she had sounded like a babbling idiot. What a great first impression.
“And Catherine?”
“Yes?”
“If I might make a suggestion, if my son hasn’t already? Be mindful when you’re running on the roads around here. Our truck drivers can get easily distracted, and I’d hate to see ya in the middle of an accident.”
“I always move to the edge when I hear one coming,” Catherine said, lifting her chin defensively, wondering if she had become the talk of the town.
“Aye,” he said softly. “But lass, ya might want to think about… well, maybe ya should wear long pants when ya run.”
Long pants? “But nobody runs in long pants,” she told him. “They’re too hot and restrictive.”
Then what he meant dawned on her. Catherine closed her eyes and let out a loud groan, only to gasp and quickly cover the mouthpiece. Great. Two strikes against her, and she hadn’t even met the man yet.
It sounded as if he also covered the mouthpiece of his phone, but she was still able to hear his sigh. “I’ve offended ya, lass, but that wasn’t my intention. I’m only wanting to make ya aware how dangerous running the roads can be.”
“I understand. And thank you. I’ll tell Robbie to call you when he gets home.”