Unholy Blue (7 page)

“If it wasn't for Hugh and Ann,” her mother had grumbled, her voice fading in and out due to a storm on
the west coast of County Clare. “I'd be on the next plane home. I'm still furious with you, and with them, for not letting me know what happened until after it was all over.”

“Well, we were kind of too busy fighting for our lives to stop and make a call—”

“You know quite well what I'm saying. Are you
sure
you're okay?”

“Yes, Mom, I'm fine. The cousins are fine. We're all fine.”
Except for poor Max
, she thought.

A long pause. Then, her mother continued. “Look, m'girl. The gods know your father and I raised you to trust yourself, but are you certain about this man? I mean, he has a child already. Won't that complicate things more than—”

“You can't be serious!” Shay had fought not to raise her voice. “Mom, he's the long-son of the High King—he's practically royalty! Plus, he's one heck of a Knight, with the manners to boot. Ann and Hugh think the world of him. And of Cor.”
And why the hell am I justifying all this to her, anyway
?

“I'll reserve judgment until I meet the man.”

Shay massaged her neck at the memory of the conversation.
Gods, I hope I'm not like that with Cor
. Waiting for the coffee maker to finish birthing its brew, she steeled herself, then picked up the cell phone and tapped the speed dial number two.

“Morning, Mom,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You up already? No, no, nothing's wrong. In fact, something's pretty
right
.” She held up her hand and examined her rings again as she took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you. About Bann and me.”

Sliding the back door open a few hours later, Shay stuck her head out. The mid-morning sun shone with an unexpected warmth for the first of November. Hammering from the far side of the fence assaulted her ears. She winced, then called, “Bann?”

Cor, holding a post for his father on the inside of the yard, turned and yelled over the wall. “Dad? Shay wants you!” The banging ceased.

Bann's head and shoulders poked up. “Aye?” He rested an arm on the gate he was installing, a hammer in one hand. Earlier, the father and son team had cobbled a makeshift entrance on the east side of the house.

“I've got to make a house call. A Knight hurt his shoulder in a fall. I should be home in less than two hours at the most.” She started to shut the door when Bann called her back.

“Have you your phone?”

“Yup.” She slapped her back pocket. “Okay, I'm out of here.” She rolled her eyes when he spoke again.

“Shay?”

“What?”

“Who is the Knight, and where does he live?”

Oh, for Danu's sake
. “I'll leave the info on the counter. Gotta go.” This time, she ignored his next question and pulled the sliding glass door closed. Grabbing the backpack that served in place of a medical bag and her lightest-weight fleece jacket, she headed toward the front door.
I see we're going to have to have a little talk
.

After fixing the injured Knight's dislocated shoulder, and swearing to keep the cause of said injury just between them, she climbed in her SUV. Still laughing over the fact that the Knight had tumbled off his roof while cleaning the rain gutters—
yeah, I would keep that a secret, too
—she started up the engine.

Her cell phone chimed. Buckling up one-handed, she plucked it from the cup holder and checked the screen. Her heart skipped in place.
Score
! “Shay Doyle,” she answered. “Oh, that's great news. And is it still okay for me to leave my car there for a few hours? Right. I'm on my way now.”

Pulling out of the local Ford dealership forty-five minutes later, Shay inhaled the scent of shiny happy new truck as she drove through town toward home. The vehicle rolled along with a low, confident growl.
I hope he likes the color
, she thought. “They call it ‘Broadsword Gray,'” the salesman had told her; she had almost bought the truck based on
that
alone. She ran her hand along the steering wheel, admiring how well her rings looked against the leather trim.
Sometimes, being me is just too fun
. Stopping at a light, she glanced over when a horn beeped. Next to her, a grizzled man in a cowboy hat, driving a truck and trailer rig, nodded at her vehicle, then touched the brim of his hat in approval. She grinned back.

I'm glad I splurged for a crew cab. More room for Cor
. A realization flashed through her.
This could be my betrothal gift to Bann. Ooh, double score!
She hugged herself in anticipation.

After rolling to a stop as quietly as she could in their driveway, she grabbed her Healer's kit and jumped out.
Unable to contain her excitement, she honked the horn, then stepped to one side, ready to do the honors. The thump of the gate opening and closing sounded from the side of the house. Bann, with Cor on his heels, appeared a few moments later, both of them wide-eyed with curiosity.

“Ta-da!” She swept her arm in a dramatic gesture. “A steed worthy of my Knight.”

“You finally got it!” With a hoot of joy, Cor raced around to the back and clambered up and over the tailgate.

Meanwhile, Bann stood a few feet away, wiping his hands on the tail of his flannel shirt, his face neutral. “For me?”

Warning hoisted a red flag at his flat tone. She ignored it. “No, for Cor. I thought we'd start him early.” She held out the keys to him. “Yes, for you, you thick lug. This is my betrothal gift to you,” she added.

He didn't take the offering. In fact, his jaw was set in the way she had come to call his mule-eared expression. Cor wore the same expression when he didn't want to do something.

“Do you like it, Dad? I helped Shay pick it out.” Cor bounced around the bed, his feet clanging on the metal flooring. “And look!” He pressed his nose against the back window and peered inside. “It's got a second seat. That's my spot.” He swung down the side. Just as he started to open the passenger door, Bann walked over and stopped him.

“We're not keeping it.”

Shay's jaw dropped. “Why the hell not?”

“I have a truck already.”

“One that needs last rites. Besides, Cor and I wanted to do something special for you.”

“Yeah, this was our surprise, Dad.” The boy grabbed his father's hand and tried to tug him around to the driver's side, his feet slipping on the driveway. Bann didn't budge.

“'Tis too dear.”

“Actually, it wasn't.” Shay fought the temptation to walk around behind him and boot him in the ass. “I got an incredible deal on it, and I had the money—”

“My wife will not provide for me.”

Oh
. Realization slapped Shay upside the head. It was followed by annoyance. Annoyance at herself for not thinking through the ramifications of purchasing an expensive item for the proud Knight, and irritation at Bann for his streak, albeit a thin one, of old-fashioned chauvinism that had the habit of rearing its head at the worst times.

“Can't we at least talk about this?”
Before you start dictating what I can and can't do
.

“There is nothing to talk about. Return the vehicle immediately. I assume you can still get your money back?”

Her mouth sagged. “Did you just give me an order?” She could feel her face and neck flush.

Bann started to speak, then paused. “Cor. Go in the house.”

“Why? I didn't do anything…” His voice faded when the man stabbed a finger at the house. Cor scurried away. The door closed with a thud.

Standing a foot apart by the truck—the truck Shay now wished she had never bought—they locked eyes,
both ready for battle. Buckling on her courage, she jumped into the fray.

“This isn't about the truck, is it? This is about your pride. Oh, no, you don't.” She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. “I get
my
say,
then
you can talk.” She squared her shoulders. “For your information, I have some pride in me, too. I'm as much a Knight of the Tuatha Dé Danaan as you.
And
I am a Healer. A damn good Healer. So, if I have extra cash gifted to me by some grateful patients, and I want to use that money to pamper my husband or my stepson,” she gestured toward the house, “then I'm going to do it without a certain Knight getting all
clenched
about it.” For some reason, her frustration grew as she spoke.

“I told you I dinna want—”

“Oh, and by the way, let me remind you—I'm your friend as well as your lover, and soon-to-be wife, so that makes us equals.
In. Everything
!” Her voice rose. “Which means you better get used to me doing crazy, outrageous stuff for you! Because I love you, dammit!” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and braced herself.
Right. Now, bring it, big guy
.

The muscle in Bann's jaw jumped at the challenge. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and fisted his hands by his sides. A long minute passed, the
tick-tick
of the cooling engine counting off the time. Mouth working, he glanced at the vehicle.

“So.” He ground out between his teeth. “A truck.”

“Yes, a truck.”

“V-6?”

“V-8.”

“Four-wheel drive?”

Shay snorted. “Of course.”

“Trailer hitch?”

“Already installed.”

“I, um…” He ran a hand along his jaw. “I like the color,” he said reluctantly.

“I thought you might.”

Huffing out a breath, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Ye gods, I hate giving in.” Opening one lid, he squinted at her. “A betrothal gift, you say?”

“Yup.”

“'Twould be small of me to not accept it in the spirit it is given.”

“It would, indeed.” Shay could feel a smile starting to spread. She forced it back, allowing Bann room to capitulate with dignity.
I've got to remember this in the future
, she reminded herself.
He's a proud man
. “Let's do this. Take it for a drive. If you don't like, I'll return it. No harm. No foul.” She laid a hand on his arm and shook him gently. “And you know I don't hold grudges, Bannerman Boru. We can walk away from this.”

Bann shook his head. “Ye disarm me when ye do that, woman. Elizabeth would have—” He closed his jaw with a snap. “Never mind.” He held out his hand.

She dropped the keys into them. “Cor's going to bust a gut if he doesn't get to go with you.”

“We'll go together. The three of us.” He gave a sharp whistle. “Cor! Out front, son!” he yelled.

“Actually, that works for me. I left the SUV at the dealership.”

After Bann dropped her off, she paused by his open window. “If you like, maybe we can take another drive this afternoon over to Ann and Hugh's. They would
love to hear our good news. That is, if you want to keep the truck.”

“No pressure, eh?”

“None whatsoever. And Cor?” She looked at the boy ensconced in the back seat, playing with every button within reach. “You did good, kiddo, keeping our secret. See how happy it made your dad?”

Cor beamed at her.

“Bleedin' conspiracy,” Bann muttered. Shay noticed he was already programming the driver's side seat for optimum comfort for his tall frame.

“Two against one is how this family rolls.” She leaned in for a good-bye kiss. “The vehicle fits you, you know,” she whispered against his lips. “Big and tough, but classy.”

He snorted, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face as he drove away, Cor waving at her. She waved back, waiting until they pulled out of the parking lot, then did a little dance as she opened the SUV's door.

Arriving back home, she busied herself with recording the day's duties, including the patient, his injury and treatment, in her logbook. She took a moment to flip to the first page. It was dated almost four years ago when she had first become the clan's Healer after her master had declared her more than ready, then left on a well-deserved rest, having ministered to the Doyles for over a hundred years. The older Healer, a big Viking of a woman with cropped white hair touched with silver and a booming voice that would have made even Bann step lively, had waved a cheerful farewell when Shay had dropped her off at the airport for a trip to the Old Country. It was just nine hours later that the clan had
gotten word that the Aer Lingus flight had disappeared over the Atlantic. Only a few objects had been recovered.

Forcing herself to think of the happy things—like Bann and Cor cruising the streets of High Springs—Shay put away her book, then tidied her apothecary storeroom. Hands on autopilot, she sorted through a fresh pile of
sláinte
nettle leaves. The plant, more commonly known to mortals as the deadnettle plant, had magical healing properties when used as a tea or salve or wash to cure almost any wound or illness.
Almost
. She recalled the times, blessedly only a few, where someone had been hurt beyond her ability to heal them.