“Listen to me, lass,” he murmured into Eve’s hair. “I know you fear for her, but Alinor is nae pet. She was a wild thing when you found her and she can care for herself better than you or I could in the wood. ’Twas her home once. She is well familiar with it.”
“But it’s not her home any longer,” Eve argued with a sniff. “She ismine! And the grays—she’s terrified of—”
“I know,” Conall interrupted gently. “Mayhap her fear will make her all the more nimble. I vow she is better fed than those old devils. And she’s survived them once already,” he reminded her with a hopeful shake. “She’s been hemmed in for far too long, a girl of her size—she may just need a night of good sport.”
Eve moaned into his chest and clutched his léine with her fingers. “What if she doesn’t return? I’ll…I’ll die without her, I love her so!”
Conall wanted to lie to Eve, to tell her anything that would take this pain from her, but he could not.
“You’ll nae die,” he whispered. “Alinor is a wild creature, Eve. If she chooses nae to return to us, we must let her go with love.”
Eve had no reply to his reasoning, only lay limp in his arms for a long, long while, her sobs deteriorating into breathy gasps.
“I’ll not give up,” she whispered at last. “She would not abandon me. She shall return, I know it.”
Conall smiled over the crown of her head. “She very well may.”
Eve sniffed. “I washed your clothes today. But they’re still wet.”
“I know you did.” He held her closer. “It’s all right.”
Evelyn did not sleep for an instant that night. She did try at Conall’s repeated urging, but the wind beyond the hut teased her dreadful worry, every scrape of branch she heard was Alinor scratching at the door, every moaning gust was the evil grays’ triumphant kill-howl, every creak of the rafters was Alinor’s whimper.
So she’d paced the hut the whole of the dark hours, not daring to light a lamp lest its glow stir Conall, who only dozed, she knew. Twice she had tried to soundlessly raise the bar from the door, but Conall had awoken instantly, making her swear the final time that she would not go outdoors. She did so reluctantly, because she wanted to be alone in her vigil, and Conall would not let her be until she promised.
Well, as alone as Bonnie and Sebastian would leave her. The sheep dogged Evelyn’s footfalls and Sebastian mimicked the pair’s pacing on his own perch. Evelyn could feel their worry—especially Bonnie’s misery at Alinor’s absence. After hours and hours of pacing, Evelyn’s lower back ached like it never had in her life and she finally gave in to the small comfort of the stool, dragging it to the door so that she could rest there upright lest Alinor come home.
Alinor, please come home…
Evelyn was in a semiconscious daze of exhaustion when she heard the whisper of ferocious barking from beyond the hut door. Instantly alert, her heart leaping, she shot to her feet and fumbled clumsily at the bar.
“Conall! Conall, wake up!” she said in a loud, shaky voice. “I hear her!” Evelyn threw the bar to the floor and dragged open the door even as the highlander sprang from the bed in naught but his skin, his warning of “Wait, Eve” fading as she bolted from the hut.
The sun had risen and was blindingly bright over the sparkling snow, refrozen in the night. Evelyn ran as fast as she dared toward the tree line, toward the incessant barking, tears slipping from her eyes as the frigid morning air rushed by her face and snatched each frosty breath from her burning lungs.
“Alinor!” she cried, dashing into the wood without hesitation. “Alinor, where are you?”
She stopped to listen, and there, mayhap a hundred yards deeper into the forest, she saw a flash of silky black. The barking picked up again, wild yelps and snarls punctuating the otherwise still air.
“Alinor!” Evelyn whispered. She began running toward the image flickering between the trees, stumbling only once, and catching herself quickly and continuing.
Then she heard a voice competing with Alinor’s barks.
“Help! Help! Oh, glory—he’s goin’ to eat me!”
Evelyn thought she might have seen a man halfway up a tall, snow-laden pine, but she paid him no heed, running even faster now toward the wolf who was bounding across the short span separating them.
The man in the tree cried shrilly, “Stay back, missus! Stay back. It’ll slaughter ye!”
Evelyn stumbled again, but this time she let herself go to her knees as the wolf collided with her. Evelyn’s arms went around the black neck like a trap, and both the woman and the animal tumbled sideways locked together.
“Oh, my God, Alinor!” Evelyn laughed and cried, her tears hot and heavy with relief and joy. A rough, pink tongue swiped them away as fast as they fell. “You naughty, naughty,naughtygirl! I was so sick with—where have you been?”
She pulled herself up by the wiry ruff on either side of Alinor’s head and then held the wolf there, pulling away to look at her properly. Alinor panted through an ecstatic lupine grin and Evelyn kissed the wolf’s rough, wet nose.
“Look at yourself! You’re a mess—oh, nay!”
’Twas then that Evelyn saw Alinor’s bloody ear and felt the wet stickiness around her neck. “Did they get you, lovely? Did you get them back? I’ll wager you did, my big, brave,naughtygirl. I’ll have you cleaned up in a thrice, not to worry. And this should learn you a—”
