Her husband lifted her by the waist onto his horse and climbed up behind her amid a shower of birdseed and the cheers of those gathered on the summit.
“Where to, wife?” he whispered.
“To your cabin on West Shoulder Ridge,” she said as she waved and threw kisses to Nathan and Nora. “We’ll be back by noon tomorrow,” she told them. “You be good for the boys.”
She leaned back against Robbie’s chest with a sigh, looked up at him, and smiled. “How are your twelve toes feeling, Mr. MacBain?”
“They feel fine,” he said, looking confused.
Her smile widened. “Well, they won’t be in about an hour.”
“They won’t?”
“No, because I’m about to curl them, husband.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Robbie barely recognizedthe place. And from the look on his wife’s face as he carried her through the door, Catherine was just as surprised as he was.
The old cabin was spotless. All the broken furniture, the years of accumulated junk, and every last spider web and squirrel nest were gone. All that remained was a recently painted wrought-iron bed, a table and two chairs, a rocking chair, and the newly reblackened woodstove. The counter and cupboards had been painted red, there were new curtains in the windows, and even the floor was freshly painted.
And dozens of candles, just waiting to be lit, sat on every available surface.
Robbie looked down at his wife in his arms and found her looking around the cabin in shock. “I had no idea they were doing all this,” she whispered, looking up at him. “I just asked them to clean it up a bit.”
Robbie lowered Catherine to her feet and picked up the envelope leaning against the large three-wick candle sitting in the middle of the table. “I’m almost afraid to open this,” he said, holding it between them. “The last note I got was an invitation to my own wedding.”
She took the envelope from him, slit it open, and pulled out the card. “It’s the boys’
wedding present to us,” she told him, handing the card back. “They said every married couple with a houseful of hoodlums needs someplace to escape to.”
Robbie quickly read the card and tossed it down on the table, picked up his wife and set her on the counter, slipped between her knees, and locked his hands behind her back.
“I thought our deal was that our marriage didn’t start until you faced Daniels.”
She covered his lips with her fingers. “Sshhhh. Don’t even say his name. He no longer exists.”
“Aye, but he does, Catherine. I’ll not spend our wedding night with his ghost in our bed.”
“Even his ghost is gone,” she whispered, smiling into his eyes as she started unbuttoning his shirt.
Robbie covered her hands with both of his, shocked by her eagerness.
Shocked but not really surprised.
He’d been living with a stranger for the last three days, a woman who appeared confident and determined and now, obviously, quite brave.
“What happened this week?” he growled, holding her hands safely in his.
“I had a talk with a wise and rather insightful owl,” she said, pulling free and working the buttons open again.
“You talked with Mary?” he whispered, stopping her and holding on tighter this time.
“Shespoke to you?”
Catherine nodded. “We had a wonderful conversation. Mary explained how I was letting you do my thinking for me and that our marriage was never going to work as long as I allowed it to continue, that I had to start thinking for myself.”
“I was doing your thinking?” he repeated, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck.
“What in hell are you talking about?”
She tried to wiggle free, but once she realized he wasn’t letting her have her hands back, she sighed and shook her head. “Mary explained that it’s a guy thing, this need you and your father have for me to confront my ex-husband. Men choose the most direct approach to a problem, and it usually involves fighting. Your solution is for me to barge in with my stick raised, hellbent on purging my memories by beating them away. Am I right?”
“I didn’t mean for you actually to fight Daniels. I was thinking more of you facing him with me standing beside you.”
“And exactly what would that accomplish, other than for me to feel safe only as long as you’re around?”
“You’d also see that Daniels is nothing more than a bully.”
“But I already know that.” She shook her head again. “Mary is right, it is a guy thing.
But Robbie, women think differently. We don’t need a huge confrontation or some defining moment to tell us we’re over our problem. We only have to let it go in our own minds.”
“Then why didn’t you do that three years ago, when you divorced him?”
“Because I was still thinking like a victim. And when I came here and met you, and even after visiting Scotland, it was easier just to go along with your idea to confront Ron because I knew you would protect me.” She looked down at their clasped hands. “That’s the problem with falling in love with guardian angels,” she whispered. “It becomes too easy to let them take over.”
Still holding her hands in his, he lifted her chin with his knuckles and smiled. “It’s even easier for us guardians to take charge, because that’s how we think.” He leaned over and gently kissed her sweet lips, then pulled away only slightly. “I’m sorry, little Cat, for nearly taking away your power instead of helping you find it. That was the last thing I wanted to do.”
The moment he freed her hands, she wrapped them around his waist and hugged him.
“So, now we’re married in all times,” she said, her lips caressing his chest where she’d unbuttoned his shirt. “Does that mean we can finally start the honeymoon?”
“Aye,” he growled, lifting her off the counter and carrying her to the bed.
She jumped up the moment he set her down. “We have to light the candles,” she said, racing to the table and picking up the box of matches. She stopped, looked from the matches to him, and tossed them back on the table. “You light them, husband, with your magic.”
He walked over, took her hand in his, and held it to the candle on the table. “All you have to do is wish for the energy to show itself,” he told her, touching their fingers to one of the wicks, then pulling it away once the flame appeared.
She gasped and looked up at him.
He moved their hands to the next wick and repeated the magic, then moved to the third, releasing her fingers. “Just ask, Catherine,” he whispered. “See the flame in your mind first, and expect it to appear, and it will.”
“But I can’t do magic,” she said, despite holding her finger to the last wick.
“But youare the magic, little Cat,” he whispered, smiling as she tried to all but glare the wick into lighting. He took hold of her shoulders and added his own will, catching her when the wick suddenly burst into flame.
“You did that!” she said with a laugh, turning and wrapping her arms around him.
He kissed her deeply and quite thoroughly, then lifted her off her feet and carried her back to the bed. He set her on the quilt and stared down at her.
Again she got up but knelt on the mattress, pulled his shirt from his pants, and pushed it off his shoulders.
He unknotted the shawl she’d brought from Scotland.
She unbuckled his belt.
His wife had him half undressed before he could even get her blouse unbuttoned.
She pushed his hands away and stepped off the bed, facing him as she slowly undid her own buttons, looking up with the smile of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.
And damn if Robbie didn’t feel his toes start to curl as she slid her blouse off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, revealing a lace bra that lovingly cupped her plump breasts, her two beautiful pink nipples straining against the satin material.
Completely forgetting his own need to get undressed, Robbie reached out and ran a trembling finger across the top of the thin lace, marveling at the contrast of his large, dark hand against her pale skin.