The Highlander Next Door (23 page)

“But you couldn’t know how Noreen would react.”

He shrugged again. “I’ve seen many coldhearted women turn into giddy lasses when the husbands they were angry at not five minutes earlier came riding hell-bent for leather to their rescue.”

Birch gestured at the money in his hand. “Can you really set fines?”

“No.”

“Would you really have pressed charges?”

“No.”

“What would you have done if Logan
hadn’t
showed up?”

“I have no idea.”

She took a step closer. “How long have you been hatching this little scheme?”

“Since I visited Logan three weeks ago and realized the man was simply scared he might outlive his savings, although I didn’t come up with a way to knock some sense into him until I saw that flyer in the paper.” He grinned. “I was just about to create a situation when Noreen created it for me.”

Another step closer. “And it never occurred to you to let
me
in on your plan?”

Now there was a loaded question if he ever heard one. “So ye would have given me your blessing to arrest Noreen?”

Birch opened her mouth but closed it without saying anything, then cocked her head and studied him in silence.

Niall became so busy trying to hear the conversation going on in her beautiful head that he was a bit slow to notice the growing fire in her eyes, barely giving himself enough time to prepare for her pounce.

He was not, however, prepared for such a . . . passionate explosion.

“You drive me
crazy
,” she growled, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist when he caught her.

“Then we’re—”

Niall didn’t mind that she didn’t let him finish, since she seemed more interested in attacking his mouth than hearing what he had to say. So he dropped a hand to her luscious bottom and kissed her back, even as he glanced at the door trying to figure out how to close and lock it without her realizing what he was doing.

“Five stupid days,” she rasped in a winded hiss when she came up for air. “Don’t
ever
make me mad at you again by turning into a caveman. That bed in the holding cell felt really sturdy,” she added, once again kissing him before he could respond.

And why wasn’t he surprised she was two steps ahead of him? Niall settled her higher against his chest and started for the door—figuring he’d figure out how to lock it without setting her down when he got there—only to jerk to a halt at the sight of Claude St. Germaine standing on the porch, the man’s arms folded over his chest and his expression unreadable.

Birch leaned away, her expression
totally
readable. “Don’t you dare go all slow and quiet on me now. It’s been five freaking days and I’m—” Her eyes widened at the sound of a clearing throat, just before she dropped her forehead to Niall’s with a muttered curse—Niall now knowing
merde
meant
shit
—followed by a whispered
D
addy
.

“Five days since what?” Claude asked.

Birch wiggled to be lowered to the floor, then ran the back of a hand over her mouth, tugged down the hem of her blouse on a deep breath, and finally turned around. “Thanks for letting me know you were coming to visit,” she drawled, apparently deciding to go on the attack rather than answer.

Claude sighed rather loudly. “I thought you
wanted
me to be more spontaneous.” He unfolded his arms, held them out from his sides, and grinned. “Surprise.” When Birch didn’t appear in any hurry to respond, Claude looked over the top of her head at Niall, his grin widening. “Am I going blind, or was that the woman you just arrested cuddled up to a man driving the beat-up old truck that nearly ran me down when I stepped around the corner?”

“What are you doing here, Daddy?” Birch asked at the same time Niall nodded.

“I found myself missing Mimi.”

Niall was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed baiting Birch, although he did wonder at Claude’s motivation. That is, unless the man was stalling because he didn’t want an audience when he broke the news that he wasn’t just visiting.

Then again, maybe the guy was tired of being
parented
.

Nay, that wasn’t it, as Claude had spoken fondly of Birch’s efforts to make him a tolerable father, beginning when she’d been six.

“Oh
maudit
, come on,” Birch muttered, stepping onto the porch and slipping her arm through Claude’s. “If you’re going to insist on being annoying, you can do it while driving me home. Because unlike some people who take their vacations without telling anyone and just show up without calling first, I’m still on the clock.” She stopped them both at the top of the stairs and turned back to Niall. “Speaking of which, where’s Mom? Her cart’s still here.”

“She and Sam went to Turtleback to check out station sites for me,” Niall said, stifling a grin at her gasp and Claude’s
are you insane?
wince.

“Sam Waters from the Trading Post?” Birch squeaked. “You let her go to Turtleback with him? Just the two of them?
Alone?
”

“I’m sorry,” Niall murmured, brushing a hand down over his thin leather vest—the weather having forced him to trade in his jacket. “I didn’t want to come across as a caveman by
ordering
Hazel not to go anywhere with Sam . . . alone.”

“Oh,
tu l’homme tannant
!” she snapped, dragging her father down the stairs and heading up the lane. “I can only deal with one crisis at a time, and right now that would be the woman and her daughter waiting for me at the shelter. I just hope Macie and Cassandra thought to take the turkey out of the oven before it turned into a brick.”

Thanks to Hazel’s list—which he’d made sure to memorize—Niall also now knew Birch had just called him a
maddening man
, which he figured beat
hulking b
rute
.

Well hell, he seemed to be making progress.

Birch suddenly stopped walking again, also pulling her father to a stop. “Dammit to hell and back,” she growled in good old English as she shot Niall a good old spitfire scowl. “I just lost my cook.”

Even though he’d enjoyed the ride down Bottomless in Nicholas’s powerful fishing boat—winning the undeclared race with Duncan and Alec in Duncan’s boat—Niall hadn’t much cared for having to put ashore a good half mile from their destination, their subsequent hike through the woods providing swarms of mosquitoes plenty of fresh blood. Niall slapped his neck when his fine hairs stirred again, still not sure why a mythical warrior felt he needed to drag a modern magic-maker and two mere mortals along on his little spy mission. But rather than lying in his big comfortable bed hoping Birch’s passionate pounce today portended a soft knock on his door tonight, he would instead be staring through binoculars while getting eaten alive watching
mostly
well-intentioned people dancing and chanting and tossing perfectly good food into a bonfire.

As Sebastian was apparently too focused on calling forth a new god to realize the bastard had manifested months ago, Dante had sent word that the colony’s leader was having another go at it tonight, the ritual once again taking place on a secluded island two-thirds down the inland sea just off the uninhabited eastern shoreline. And when Niall had asked why they needed to attend if they already knew the guest of honor would be a no-show, Nicholas had explained that if the colonists had managed to successfully bring forth one god, there was an equally good chance they could call forth
another
one.

And wasn’t that a goddamned wonderful notion.

“Well, this is new,” Nicholas murmured, his ancient spyglass trained on the island and his tone making Niall, Duncan, and Alec grab their binoculars and scramble over to the fallen log. “It appears we’re not the only ones interested in tonight’s ceremony.” He snorted. “Although I don’t find it very sporting to
fly
in and perch right in plain sight.”

“Where?” Duncan asked.

“He just landed in the taller pine slightly south of the center of the island, on the third branch down from the top.” The warrior chuckled. “Is that dried blueberries I see in his head feathers?”

Niall finally found the tree and realized the
he
Nicholas was talking about was a fully-matured bald eagle. “The bird that gave Birch the hairclip was still immature.”

“Over a week ago,” Nicholas reminded him. “Our new resident god appears to be coming into his powers amazingly fast.”

“Telos,” Niall murmured when he zoomed in on the eagle watching the colonists below preparing tonight’s bonfire.

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then Nicholas gave him a nudge. “Where did you hear that word?”

Niall lowered his binoculars to find Alec and Duncan also looking at him. He turned to sit leaning against the log and fingered the hilt of his sword as he wondered how to tell the men—without breaking his promise by actually
telling
them—that the forest god had given Birch his name. “When ye airlifted Birch’s car off that gravel bar the day of her accident,” Niall said to Duncan as he and Alec also turned to settle against the log, “did ye notice that the air bags hadn’t deployed?”

Duncan eyed him curiously, even as he shrugged. “I assumed she didn’t hit the water at a steep enough angle to set them off.”

“Nay, she didn’t. That’s because when she left the road, Birch hit a large oak tree on the bank of the river first, which was the same tree the car was tangled in when I found it pinned up against the bridge.”

“But the front of the vehicle didn’t have any damage,” Duncan said, now eyeing him suspiciously. “Expect for being soaked through, the car appeared untouched. Hell, I don’t remember even seeing any scratches.”

Niall looked over at Nicholas. “Titus said he saw the new god change into an innocuous weed or bush to escape the demons the day it manifested, and we’re fairly certain the bird who found Rana’s hairclip was also the god.” Niall looked down and fingered his sword again. “Could he not also have been the oak that saved Birch’s life by gently breaking her fall, then holding her car against the bridge until help arrived?”

“That doesn’t explain you just calling him Telos,” Nicholas said.

“He actually spoke to her,” Alec apparently decided when Niall didn’t respond. “The forest god told Birch his name.”

“What else did he tell her?” Duncan asked. He kicked Niall’s foot when Niall remained silent. “Did he happen to mention what his intentions are?”

“I’m more interested,” Nicholas drawled, “in hearing Miss Callahan’s reaction to having a tree talk to her.”

“Why aren’t you answering?” Duncan asked.

Alec chuckled. “My guess is Birch made him promise not to tell anyone she had a conversation with a tree. The lass talked back to it, didn’t she?”

Duncan kicked Niall’s foot again when he still said nothing. “Dammit, man, we’re not playing twenty questions here. Just tell us what the bastard told Birch.”

“All I know,” Niall snapped, standing up before Duncan could kick him again, “is that an
oak tree
broke Birch’s fall, then kept her from sinking until I could get there.” He glared down at the three grinning men. “The water rushing through the branches made a lot of noise, so maybe I only
thought
I heard her say Telos. Hell, maybe the bastard said it to
me
, so I’d know who I was indebted to for saving Birch’s life.”

“Okay, then,” Duncan said dryly. “Did the tree tell
you
why he’s here?”

Finally
; it had taken them long enough. “Nay,” Niall said on a sigh as he sat down again, this time leaning against a cedar out of foot-kicking reach. “But after thinking about his appearing to Birch as both an eagle and a tree, I believe Telos is deliberately showing us that unlike Titus and Mac, he intends to be more . . . personal when it comes to using the magic. More hands-on.”

“Titus did mention he thought the new god had taken a
personal
interest in your Miss Callahan,” Nicholas drawled.

“Aye,” Alec said. “Giving jewelry to a woman is definitely personal.”

“So is saving her life,” Duncan added.

Not being able to read their expressions since he was facing into the setting sun, Niall had no problem hearing the amusement in their voices. “Birch may not be the only person whose life he saved,” he said, deciding to turn the subject back to the matter at hand. “About a month ago I came upon a man walking along the road as I was driving up from Turtleback, and at first thought he might be drunk, since he was weaving more than walking. But as I drew near I could see he was hunched over holding his ribs, and what I thought was a red shirt turned out to be blood from a gash in his head.”

“It was Foster Graves, and he is a drunk,” Duncan said. “I heard ye wrapped his head in your T-shirt and drove him to the clinic.”

“Aye,” Niall said with a nod. “I was worried he’d bleed out before an ambulance could arrive. At the time, considering he smelled of whiskey as much as blood, I dismissed the story he told me about what had happened as nothing more than the ramblings of an inebriated man with a head injury.” He shrugged. “But lately I’ve been thinking that what Foster kept calling ‘divine intervention’ was actually Telos.”

“I heard he told anyone willing to listen,” Alec said, “that a huge black bear just sauntered up to his car and lifted it off him. But like you, everyone thought the blow to his head had made him delusional.”

“Aye, that’s the tale he told me. So after leaving him in Bentley’s care,” Niall continued, “I went back and found the car. It took some doing, as it appeared Foster had been going quite fast when he missed a curve and ended up deep in the woods down a steep bank. If he hadn’t made it back up to the road, the man probably would have bled out within the hour and his body not discovered for days.”

“And did you see any sign of this divine bear?” Nicholas asked.

Niall gave a nod. “The tracks were unmistakable. And from the size and depth of the paw prints, I’d estimate the bruin went six or seven hundred pounds.”

“That’s damn big for a Maine black bear,” Alec said.

“I’m just telling ye what I found. There was a pool of blood where Foster had lain for some time, along with the impression of where his car, which was up on its side, had been covering a good part of his body.”

“Maybe the car did land on him,” Duncan speculated, “but the momentum kept it rolling onto its side before finally stopping. And the paw prints could have been made while you were driving him to the clinic. Hell, there’s nothing to say a curious bear hadn’t shown up while Foster had been lying there, taken a few sniffs, and left the man to die in peace.”

“Aye,” Niall said evenly. “All acceptable explanations, except for the tracks also indicating the bear had dragged Foster up the steep bank to the road.”

Everyone fell silent, apparently trying to decide for themselves what had really happened—that is, until Alec suddenly chuckled.

“What?” Nicholas asked.

“It seems I may have also had a
divine intervention
.” Alec looked at Duncan. “You remember my mentioning several weeks ago that I went looking for a pond I’d heard had trout the size of salmon about twenty miles north of town?”

Duncan grinned. “What I remember is that ye caught hell from your wife for getting all the way up the fiord before realizing you’d dropped her and your son off at your mother-in-law’s that morning.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” Alec muttered. “I just wanted to get home because I was chilled from being caught in a rainstorm and had forgotten to bring extra clothes.”

“What does your fishing trip have to do with Telos?” Nicholas asked.

“The rainstorm—nay, it was more of a deluge—that came out of nowhere. I’d left my truck parked about a mile from the pond and hiked in, but when I started back after getting soaked, not a quarter mile from where I’d been fishing I came to a small burned section of woods that
hadn’t
been burned on my way in.”

“Are ye saying you believe the forest god put out the fire?” Duncan asked.

“You got a better explanation for a rainstorm appearing out of nowhere on a sunny afternoon and hitting only a small area? My truck never got touched.”

“Well, gentlemen,” Nicholas said quietly, “for as . . . altruistic as Telos sounds, he may actually become a problem.”

“How?” Niall asked.

“Using the magic to interfere or intercede on behalf of people—or worse,
directly interact
with them, as he did with Birch and Foster Graves—is the very thing Titus has been protecting mankind from all these millennia. Titus cultivated the Trees of Life specifically to keep gods from using mortals as nothing more than pawns, and sometimes even currency, in their petty wars against one another. Why do you think he and Maximilian practice a hands-
off
approach when it comes to man-made disasters?”

Duncan snorted. “They both interfere all the time.”

“Not
directly
,” Nicholas countered. “Mac couldn’t force fishermen all over the world to stop using traps and nets that continue ghost-fishing for years after being lost at sea. But he could draw attention to the problem and encourage change in fishing practices by washing the offending equipment filled with dead and dying sea mammals and birds up onto beaches in every coastal country.” He grinned at Duncan. “And Mac couldn’t make you and Peg fall in love even though he knew you were a match, but he could create a situation where the two of you would decide
of your own free will
that you couldn’t live without each other. And if I remember correctly,” the warrior growled, losing his grin as he looked at Alec, “you were counting on the fact that Titus and Mac couldn’t retaliate for your keeping Carolina’s whereabouts a secret from them.”

Alec grinned back and Niall stifled a grin of his own as he remembered his cousin walking in and out of the magically secured Nova Mare right under Nicholas’s nose, frustrating the warrior to no end.

“And you, Niall,” Nicholas continued. “Titus could only
invite
you to come to this century to vie for Carolina’s hand in marriage. That you accepted was
your
decision.”

Niall lifted a brow. “You would expect me to refuse a personally delivered invitation from Titus Oceanus?”

The warrior’s grin returned. “You didn’t seem to let who he was get in your way of
staying
here.”

“What about moving mountains and turning freshwater lakes into inland seas?” Alec asked before Niall could form a response. “Ye don’t consider that to be interfering in people’s lives?”

“Mac manipulated the planet, not mankind,” Nicholas explained, “which are two distinctly different energies. The people his little stunt affected four years ago were free to react to the change in their landscape however they wished. As with all natural phenomena—storms, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions—men are free to view them either as disasters or as blessings in disguise.”

“And Mac bringing Matt Gregor’s sister, Fiona, back from the dead and dropping her in this century,” Duncan said, “as well as William Killkenny’s sister, Gabriella; how is that not
directly
interfering in
their
lives?”