“In a book. She read it in a book. Christ Jesus.”
“I could really use a drink.”
“You’re not alone there.”
She didn’t say more, needed to steady herself. Needed to tell her cousins, she thought again. Needed, really, to sit down on something that didn’t move.
They were nearly back to the stables before she could think clearly, or almost clearly again. “Darling was so scared. For herself, but for you, too. My fire scared her, too. I wish I’d thought of something else.”
“She did just fine. Wanted to bolt, but didn’t. You may not know it, but that one? He was a rock under you. He never, from that first start, flinched a muscle. I’m thinking he would have done whatever you asked, even up to charging through the fire and taking the beast by the scruff.”
“I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to tell him. He just knew. I need to call Branna.”
“I’ll see to that.”
When they reached the stables, he dismounted, then stepped over to her. “Come on down then.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“That’s what these are for.” He lifted his hands, took hold of her, helped her down. “Go sit on the bench there for a minute or two.”
“The horses.”
“They’ll be seen to, and well, what do you think?” The sizzle of impatience had her obeying. And her shaky legs carried her to the bench, almost wept with gratitude as she sat.
When Boyle came out, she managed to get to her feet. “I need to do a protection spell, for the stables.”
“Do you think Fin hasn’t already seen to that?” Boyle simply took her arm, pulled her along. “He’s not due home for a few hours, but I think he knows what he’s about in these matters. Branna knows where you are. She’ll tell Connor.”
“Where am I going?”
“Up to mine, where you’ll have that drink and sit a bit more.”
“I could really use both.”
She climbed the stairs with him. Not exactly the circumstances she’d imagined for her first invitation into his place, but she’d take it.
He opened the door off a narrow porch. “Company wasn’t expected.”
She peeked in first, then smiled. “Thank God it’s not all neat and tidy or I’d feel intimidated. But it’s nice.” She stepped in, looked around.
It smelled like him—horses, leather, man. The room, a kind of combination living/sitting/kitchen, let in the early evening light. A mug sat next to the sink, a newspaper lay spread on the short counter that separated the kitchen from the rest.
A couple of books and some magazines were scattered around—mystery novels, she noted, and horsey magazines. A tumble of boots in a wooden box, a clutter of old jackets on pegs. A sofa with a little sag in the middle, two big chairs, and, to her surprise, a big flat screen on the wall.
He noticed her speculative look. “I like it for watching matches and such. You’ll have some whiskey.”
“I absolutely will, and a chair. I get shaky after it’s all done.”
“You were steady enough while it counted.”
“I almost lost it.” She spoke as he went to the kitchen, opened cupboards. “You helped me hold on.”
Since she was here, and safe, and it was done, he could speak of it. Or try. “You were glowing like a flame. Your eyes so deep it seemed like worlds could be swallowed up by them. You reached up, and you pulled a storm from the sky with your hand. I’ve seen things.”
He poured whiskey for both of them, brought the glasses back to where she sat, dwarfed in one of the big chairs. “I’ve run tame with Fin most of my life, and Connor, and Branna. I’ve seen things. But never have I seen the like of that.”
“I’ve never felt anything like it. A storm in my hand.” She looked down at it now, turned it, amazed to recognize it, to find it so ordinary. “And a storm inside me. I don’t know how to explain it, but it was inside me, sohugeand full. And absolutely right.
