And he would not be returning Eve to the Buchanans.
In truth, Conall did not know which pleased him more.
He heard the hut door’s echoey scrape and Alinor barked again as she bounded across the clearing in a low, black streak. Conall stepped in front of his kill protectively, his arms spread wide.
“Argh! Back!” he yelled. “Alinor, nae!”
The wolf skidded to a halt in the snow, but fell into an excited pace before Conall, her tongue lolling out of her grinning, slobbery mouth.
“You’ll get yours,” Conall promised her. “But you’ll wait your turn, ken?”
Conall then raised his eyes to the hut and saw Eve framed by the low doorway, her fingers tangled in Bonnie’s long wool. From his vantage point, Eve resembled a typical highland wife, at her home with her sheep, her long plait hanging over her shoulder and down to her hip. Conall wondered for a wild moment what she would look like with his plaid wrapped around her shoulders, as a wife would do. As Nonna had never done.
“Eve!” he called and raised an arm.
Alinor turned and raced back to the hut at his words.
“What is it?” Eve asked, hesitantly, but loudly enough to be heard through the thickening dusk, and raising up on her toes as if trying to see what he was about. She swatted at Alinor, who spun around and flew back toward Conall. “A gray?”
“Nae—come!”
She pulled the sheep back inside and closed the door, leaving Bonnie to the safety of the hut, and began to trudge through the snow.
Conall cast a wary eye to the sky. Evening was nigh upon them. Soon, the grays would be afoot, the scent of fresh blood drawing them to the clearing as surely as bees are drawn to a field of sweet clover.
“Food,” Conall said proudly, just as Eve’s eyes fell on the slain deer.
She gasped and her face went whiter than the snow she stood in. “Oh, nay,” she whispered and dropped to her knees near the deer’s head.
Conall’s mouth fell open. “Oh, nae?” he repeated. “I was expecting more of a ‘Huzzah, Conall, well done,’ actually.”
“Oh, I—” Eve turned her face up to look at him and he saw the big, silvery tears in her eyes, already suspiciously reddened. “Of course, this is…’tis a miracle, of course. But…” She dropped her gaze back to the deer. “He’s so beautiful. Young,” she whispered and reached out a slender, pale hand to stroke the deer’s still head.
Conall was more than a little perturbed with himself that he hadn’t foreseen Eve’s reaction. Of course the sight of a dead animal would affect her—had she not sworn to protect Bonnie from such an intended fate?
Bollocks.
Conall crouched down next to Eve. “I’m sorry, lass. If it will lessen your grief, the shot was perfect—it didna feel the slightest prick, I swear it.”
Eve nodded but did not look at him.
“Eve, had I not taken it, it would have starved for certain—suffered greatly. This way was more merciful, you must believe me. And now”—he hesitated, but then reached out a palm to turn her face toward him, away from the deer’s sightless brown eyes, mesmerizing her—“we can eat. You and I and Alinor.” He gave her a smile.
To his amazement, her lips lifted in the most meager smile. “And Bonnie.”
“Bonnie, as well.”
“And Whiskers.”
Conall could not help but roll his eyes. “And Whiskers, aye. But heed me, lass”—Conall glanced uneasily to the wood, sidling, it seemed, ever closer to them, as if it would reach out with long, tree-trunk arms and sweep them all into its rapidly darkening interior. “We must move quickly—I must drag the deer into the hut. I’ll have need to butcher it inside for the light and safety. You ken?”
Eve nodded and stood, her manner swiftly changed from brokenhearted English maiden to fierce highland dame. “Shall I help you drag it?”
Conall rose too and shook his head as he moved to the animal’s hindquarters. Alinor was once again running the span of the clearing, this time as if eager for all of them to be back inside the hut. She could sense the grays, Conall suspected, and knew they would soon be upon them.
“Nay, lass.” Conall picked up the rear legs and swung the deer in the snow so that its head was now pointed at the wood. “Only collect Alinor and run ahead to open the door.” He leaned back and pulled, his boots sinking deep in the snow as he dragged the deer.
Eve dashed away to the hut and Conall could hear Alinor’s nervous whines bouncing off the door before Eve opened it. As if on cue, a chorus of howls erupted over the clearing and Conall tried to move quicker, nearly running backward in the snow. He backed into the hut and as soon as the deer’s head cleared the portal, the door swung shut. Eve had been waiting behind it, bar at the ready.
