Page 67 of Viking Unchained

Her pain was palpable as she put the boxes back in the closet. How could she possibly sustain this kind of grief again? How could she love another military man? The answer was that she couldn’t.

But then she went back upstairs and wondered how she could face the loneliness. Maybe she had been too harsh with Finn. After all, it wasn’t his fault he was military. Maybe she could have an affair?

But, no, she was not the affair type. Love would have to be involved.

Is it already?

Oh, my God! Is it already too late?

Do I love him?

The question was answered later that night when she was cleaning the bedroom, trying to keep herself busy so that she would not have to think. And mourn.

Under the bed, she found several bags which Finn must have stuffed there. She assumed they were his purchases from the day he’d disappeared for several hours in Coronado, the day he’d gotten the infamous haircut.

In one bag there were five boxes of condoms . . . sixty total. She shook her head at his overconfidence.

The next bag held a miniature Sir Lancelot costume. She smiled, knowing that Finn must have bought it for Mike, even if Mike wasn’t his son. Which he wasn’t, of course.

Finally, she opened the last bag from a Coronado jewelry store. A gift for her?

She gasped when she saw the contents. It was a piece of amber, and in the center was a tiny star. She sobbed openly before setting it on the bedside table.

It had to be a sign.

Chapter 13

Running with the wolves . . . I

mean, seals . . .

By late Friday morning, Lydia was frantic.

She had called Torolf’s place repeatedly ’til she’d had to admit that Finn had not gone back there. She’d called Kirstin to see if she knew where Finn was. She didn’t. Kirstin called Hilda up at Hog Heaven, and even Hilda didn’t have a clue, her response having been, “We should be so lucky that the lackwit is lost!”

“He’ll show up somewhere, honey,” Kirstin had assured her.

But Lydia wanted to talk to him now, and she feared the longer they were apart, the harder it would be to heal the rift. If indeed he wanted to get back together with her. Not that they’d had any kind of understanding before.

Really, she just needed to talk with him.

And maybe kiss him silly.

Then she got some more bad news.

Her cordless phone rang about noon.

“Finn? Is that you? Thank God!”

“Uh, honey. It’s me. Your dad.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment felt like a lead weight on her shoulders. Then her daughter-antenna went up.

Her dad hardly ever called her. It was always her mother who called, occasionally passing the phone to her dad for a quick hello. “What is it, Dad? What’s wrong? Is it Mike?”

“Now, honey, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted you to know, before you hear it somewhere else. We had a little trouble here last night. A few cows were killed.”

“Killed?”