Her face eased a little, though she kept her blue eye narrowed. “You have eyes like me.”
“Aye. How old are ye?”
“I turned six nearly four weeks ago. I’m almost six and a half,” she returned. “How old are you?”
“I turned thirty about ten weeks ago,” he returned, though he honestly couldn’t remember how long ago it had been. A lifetime had passed in the space of the past few weeks.
She nodded, her braid unraveling further. “Did you hurt my dog?”
“Nae. He came at me, and Waya pointed oot that that wasnae a good idea.”
“Who is Waya?”
He angled her slim torso so she could see the wolf below her. Sweet Saint Michael, she felt as delicate and light as blown glass. How did such creatures manage to come into the world at all, much less survive it? “That’s Waya,” he said aloud.
“Oh, my heavens. What is it?”
“It’s a wolf. A she-wolf.”
Her two-colored eyes widened. “A wolf? Is she yours?”
“Nae. We’re partners.”
She studied the wolf for another moment, then looked back at him. “Will she eat me? I don’t wish to be eaten.”
Callum shook his head, conscious that he wanted to wrap this wee lass in his arms and flee with her back toKentucky, where he knew he could keep her safe. Until Ian had justice and he had his revenge, though, neither of them was going anywhere. “Waya will protect ye, lass. She’d nae—never—hurt ye. Both of us are here to protect ye.” That might not have been so ten minutes ago, but now, and from now on, it was the truth.
“Well, I’m very brave all on my own, but thank you. May I pet her?”
“Maggie, I don’t think—”
“Aye. Just dunnae ever do it when she’s asleep. Call her name first so ye dunnae startle her.”
With surprising reluctance he let her go, setting her feet onto the floor, then squatted down beside her to wrap an arm about Waya’s shoulders. The wolf had likely scented the bairn and his relationship to her before he’d even been aware of Margaret’s existence, but he wanted to be certain the wolf understood. “Waya, this is Margaret,” he said, taking the lass’s absurdly wee hand in his free one and guiding her fingers down to brush along the wolf’s throat, her most vulnerable place.
“Hello, Waya,” the lass said softly, then unexpectedly hugged the wolf full around the neck. “You’re so lovely!”
Callum tensed his arm, ready to intervene. The big wolf, though, edged her head around and licked Margaret solidly on the ear, then gave a happywhumphsound.
That had been simple. Hiding his deep breath, he straightened again to find another pair of eyes glaring at him. These were a light blue, and it didn’t take much effort to interpret their expression. Becca didn’t want him there—which gave him yet another reason to stay.
“When did you return to Scotland?” she asked, making another effort to straighten her wet hair and then giving up.
“This morning,” he returned, not bothering to askhow she’d known he had been away from Scotland. Ian, at least, had sent letters to Kentucky, and she’d urged the solicitor not to send the last one. This wasn’t the conversation he wanted to have—intended to have—with her, but with the bairn present it would have to do. He would get his answers from her, just not at this moment. The past ten years had taught him patience. Patience and how to apply just enough force to get what he wanted or needed for his business.
“Ian thought you in Kentucky,” she went on, her voice hesitating a little over her husband’s name as she confirmed his suspicions. Or perhaps he’d just wanted to hear it do so. He couldn’t be certain. “Were you?”
“Aye.” If she wanted to have a civil conversation, she could carry it.
“How did—”
“That prissy solicitor of yers. Bartholomew Harvey. He said ye didnae want me found, but I reckon he values his reputation over yer… whatever it is ye wanted. Menotbeing here, I assume.”
She nodded tightly. Even with ten years being gone from here, he still would have recognized her in a crowd. Her face had rounded a little, adding a softness to her countenance that she hadn’t had at eighteen. Given the amount of time he’d spent studying her bosom when he’d been twenty, now at thirty he would have been prepared to swear on a stack of Bibles that she’d made some improvements there, as well.
“Where will you be staying?” she continued.
“Here.”
