Call It Magic

by Janet Chapman

  Shiloh gasped hard enough that he nearly fell off the rock. “Katy,” he hissed, darting a quick glance at Gunnar before leaning forward. “You promised not to tell.”

  “It’s okay. Mr. Wolfe is one of us. Go on,” she added with a nod. “Ask your buddy if he knows of a clean spring nearby, and if we should leave Mr. Wolfe here or press on together.”

  One of us, Gunnar silently repeated. One of us what?

  “He can see angels, too?” Shiloh whispered, eyeing Gunnar suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. “Then tell him to let me see his.”

  Katy blinked, clearly flummoxed. “I . . . I’m not sure mythical warriors even have angels, because . . .” She shrugged. “Because they’re mythical.” She looked at Gunnar. “Do you have a guardian angel, Mr. Wolfe?”

  Well, damn. “I, ah, have always assumed I do.”

  “I don’t even know what a mythical warrior is,” Shiloh whispered.

  Hell, neither did he.

  He did have a firm rule about not lying to kids, though, even for the sake of calming their fears. He could be an ass to adults because they usually deserved it, but kids . . . well, one, they never forgot—or forgave—an adult who lied to them, and two, they deserved better. Besides, kids usually handled the truth better than adults. Instead of wallowing in worry, the not-yet-jaded little optimists often started looking for silver linings—and usually found them.

  “Have you ever heard of the lost island of Atlantis, Shiloh?” Katy asked, apparently deciding to further compound her lie.

  The kid gasped again. “I just saw it on the news! Only it’s not lost anymore because they found it yesterday morning. Mom got me out of bed to watch what everyone is calling a historical event.”

  More like hysterical, Gunnar was thinking.

  “The newscaster said a huge land mass the size of Rhode Island,” Shiloh continued, “just suddenly appeared right in the middle of James Bay overnight.” He stopped and looked at Gunnar. “That’s in Canada, at the bottom of the Hudson Bay.” He looked at Katy again and frowned. “All the scientists are baffled because there wasn’t even an earthquake that would have made it rise up from the ocean floor.” He leaned forward again. “You know, like the one that happened here five years ago,” he whispered, “and moved all the mountains and turned Bottomless Lake into a sea.”

  Gunnar inwardly snorted. Another hysterical event that still had scientists baffled. But at least there’d been an earthquake to account for the mountains . . . moving.

  “Geologists from all over the world went to see the land mass,” Shiloh continued, “and last night, the news showed a video they took of all the towns and villages they found scattered all over the island. There was even a palace. They said the buildings looked like they were being lived in up until about a year ago but that it appeared the people just left for no reason. They’re saying that even though there’s an advanced infrastructure—” He stopped and looked at Gunnar. “That’s the roads and water and sewer systems and stuff.”

  Hell, maybe the kid felt hairy chests and intelligence were mutually exclusive. “Thank you for explaining that.”

  Shiloh looked back at Katy. “Anyway, they said it seemed like an advanced civilization even though they didn’t have electricity or any modern technology, but in other ways, it appeared ancient. In fact, the scientists think that carbon dating—”

  He stopped again but Gunnar held up his hand. “Thanks, but I actually know what carbon dating is,” he drawled.

  Shiloh shot him a scowl then looked at Katy. “They think carbon dating is going to show that the buildings are thousands of years old, and that’s why people started calling the place Atlantis.” He frowned. “But what’s that got to do with Mr. Wolfe being a mythical warrior?”

  Gunnar caught himself actually leaning forward in anticipation.

  “Because Mr. Wolfe is from Atlantis,” she said, beaming Gunnar a bright smile.

  That was the island in the northern Atlantic she kept talking about? Wait. So, did that mean the former life she kept talking about was him being a mythical warrior?

  “It’s okay if Shiloh knows your secret,” she assured Gunnar. “He can see and talk to angels, and you used to travel through time and kill demons with your sword.”

  Yeah, well, he hoped the kid didn’t want to see his sword, because he couldn’t for the life of him remember where he’d left it. And if he could travel through time, then why wasn’t he zapping back to . . . oh, three hours ago and killing that demon bear with his sword? He cocked his head at Katy. “You told Shiloh I was one of you. So, what’s your magical claim to fame?”

  That made her smile vanish and her gaze drop to her lap.

  “Katy sees other stuff,” Shiloh piped up, only to frown at her again. “But the day we met on the plane, you never told me what you see.”

  “I see . . . I can see what’s wrong with people,” she murmured.

  “You mean you can see their auras?” Shiloh said. “Like if they’re sick, the energy around them looks all angry and red or something?”

  “No, I can see—in my mind—exactly where they’re injured.” She looked directly at Gunnar, her chin rising defensively. “And because I’m trained as a paramedic, I can help them.”

  That was a big, bold . . . half-truth if he ever heard one.

  Then again, it was her lie, so he guessed the woman was entitled to make it as outrageous as she wanted. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was why she’d started telling it to Shiloh over a week ago on the plane. Well, unless she hadn’t wanted to hurt the boy’s feelings when he’d told her he could see and talk to angels.

  So, did he break his rule about not lying to kids and play along, or did he . . . what? Destroy Shiloh and Katy’s budding friendship, which the boy obviously needed? That wouldn’t exactly advance his relationship with Katy, now would it?

  “So how come you don’t just look in your mind to see what’s wrong with Mr. Wolfe’s knee and fix it?” Shiloh asked. “Then he won’t hurt, and we can get out of the woods quicker.”

  “I did look,” Katy said. “And because his knee is only bruised, there’s really nothing for me to do. Our bodies are quite good at healing themselves, Shiloh, and I’ve discovered that sometimes it’s better not to interfere.” She looked at Gunnar again, her eyes lighting up like a fogbank at sunrise. “And sometimes all it takes is a kiss.”

  Gunnar dropped his gaze to her mouth. Dammit, he didn’t know if she was talking about her reviving Tux or the kiss she’d promised to give him for saving Shiloh. Hell, forget dodging and darting down the trail chasing a leaf; if Katy kissed him right now, he could probably fly the three of them back to Inglenook just like Superman—another hero of mythical proportions.

  Okay; he might finally be getting a handle on Miss Katherine MacBain, in that she was a beautiful, capable, compassionate, and occasionally avenging angel and a beautiful, lying, flirtatious enchantress. And he liked that. In fact, the next time Robert MacBain was in town, he just might ask the man for permission to date both of her.

  Suddenly, Shiloh gasped so hard Gunnar had to catch the kid from tumbling off the rock. “Look at that,” Shiloh whisper-shouted, pointing up the trail before Gunnar had even finished righting him. “That’s a bald eagle.”

  Katy turned to look and also gasped.

  Gunnar straightened and peered ahead, seeing what was definitely a bald eagle perched as bold as brass in the center of the trail not fifty yards from them. Hands down the largest bird he’d ever seen, Gunnar’s body stilled in the creature’s magnificent presence. Every detail of the eagle’s body seemed to stand out—majestic mahogany feathers; crisp white head; sharp, all-knowing, ebony gaze—in a way that permitted only veneration and respect.

  He sighed when he heard Katy whisper in awe, “Evan’s eagle,” only to frown when she scrambled to her feet without taking her eyes off
the bird and said, “Ohmigod, it’s him.”

  She looked at Gunnar and beamed him another big bright smile. “It’s Telos.” But then she scowled. “Telos?” she repeated. She slid her gaze to Shiloh, who was still staring at the eagle, then back to Gunnar. “Our new mythical god?” she whispered. “Oh,” she huffed more than said, turning to face up the trail. “I swear sometimes you look at me like you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about.”

  That was because most of the time he didn’t.

  The scary—if slightly disturbing—thing was, that’s probably what he liked most about her. Because he’d much rather be confused by all her talk of mythical islands and warriors and gods than be bored to death rehashing celebrity gossip, critiquing fashion trends, and fending off tedious attempts to get him to talk about himself. Yeah. How could he not like a woman who simply made up an entire identity for him that she liked?

  God, he’d love to spend a few hours inside that creative mind of hers.

  “Do you think it’s hurt?” Shiloh whispered as he stared at the bird staring back at them. “It’s not common for eagles to be on the ground when they’ve got all these trees to perch in, unless they’re after prey. Did you see where he came from?” he continued, looking up at the treetops then over at Gunnar.

  “No,” Gunnar said, also scanning the treetops. He reached out when Shiloh started to slide off his rock. “Stay here,” he gently ordered, remembering Evan’s eagle had actually tried to grab the kid. “Katy,” he added firmly when she slowly walked toward the bird.

  “It’s okay,” she said without looking back. “The only times I’ve heard of Telos showing up is when people are in some sort of trouble, so he must be here to help us.”

  Oh, for the love of— “Okay, enough,” Gunnar said, the edge in his voice making Katy stop and turn and blink at him. “The sooner you and Shiloh get going, the less time I’ll have to sit here fighting off blackflies and mosquitos.” He nudged Shiloh off the rock. “And thanks to the—to Telos,” he added with a tight grin at Katy before looking at Shiloh, “I won’t be alone.” He set his walking stick across his thighs. “And if any bears or rabid raccoons come sniffing around, I’ll be well armed.”

  Including the small pistol he had strapped, thankfully, to his right ankle.

  “But—” Katy started.

  “No buts,” Gunnar said, cutting her off. “Unless your eagle buddy can fly the three of us out of here on its back, the two people who can walk out will, then send someone back to get the person who can’t.”

  Now what in hell was she smiling at? Didn’t she realize he had just taken over her little misadventure?

  “Hey.” Shiloh moved to stand between them and shot Gunnar a glare. The kid obviously realized what was going on and obviously did not like it. “Katy’s in charge of this trail ride because she knows what she’s doing.”

  Gunnar arched a brow to keep from grinning. Hell, the kid held his stick like he intended to take a swing at him. “This stopped being a trail ride,” he drawled, curious to see what the boy would do, “the moment we found ourselves walking.”

  “It’s okay, Shiloh,” Katy said with a laugh, walking up and turning the still glaring boy around to face her. “Mr. Wolfe is just doing what mythical warriors do when circumstances turn dire, which is to get all manly and bossy.” Gunnar saw her eyes take on a sparkle as she smiled down at Shiloh. “Exactly like you did just now. Thank you for defending me.”

  She leaned away slightly while still holding the kid’s shoulders and slowly moved him back and forth as she gave him a visual inspection. “Why, Mr. Fox, I do believe your chest just grew an inch broader,” she said, laughing again when Shiloh snapped his head down to look at himself.

  Katy started up the trail. “Come on, my little warrior. You can look for chest hairs when you put on your pajamas tonight.” She turned and walked backward, making sure Shiloh followed, then actually saluted Gunnar. “We’ll get right on that, big warrior sir.” She suddenly stopped, and even from twenty yards away, he could see the gleam in her eyes. “Should I have SFF&R make the rescue? I hear Gretchen is covering Ray Strout’s shift today.”

  “Just bring something to eat when you come back to get me. On an ATV,” Gunnar added in his best mythical warrior voice. “And also grab the small insulated bag out of my truck.” He shot her a grin. “If you make it back here before the mosquitos come out, I might even reward you with a beer.”

  Katy’s gaze dropped to his mouth and her cheeks flushed a lovely pink. “Yes, sir,” she said rather huskily, giving him another salute as she caught hold of Shiloh’s hand and started jogging up the trail.

  When the eagle saw them headed its way, it turned while spreading its massive wings and took to the air with a whistled screech, then flew up the trail about ten feet above the ground ahead of Katy and Shiloh—the boy still carrying his stick, Gunnar noticed.

  He leaned back against the tree with a sigh of relief and studied his definitely ballooning knee. Yup, letting Katy be in charge was going to cost him at least two days on crutches and a week of hobbling around like an old man. But he really hadn’t wanted to steal her thunder, figuring she had enough take-charge men in her life already. Besides, it had been kind of nice being mothered by someone other than Aunt May. And although he’d had a lot of women wanting to kiss him for a lot of reasons, he’d never had one offer to kiss him for being a hero. Apparently, some Scots females didn’t know what century they lived in, either.

  Gunnar twisted to scan the woods behind him. When Katy returned without Shiloh, maybe after they shared a couple of beers and he got his kiss . . . well, maybe the ATV wouldn’t start when they were ready to head back.

  Did Katy know anything about small engines, such as that fuel lines had shutoffs? Or that spark plug wires needed to be attached to the spark plug for the engine to run? Hell, maybe he’d show Miss MacBain she wasn’t the only one who could bring something back to life when he helped the ATV miraculously recover—in the morning, after a night of snuggling.

  Well, assuming they made it through dusk. Because even worse than hiking five miles on a bum knee half naked in Maine in June in the mountains was getting stuck outdoors anywhere in Maine in June, July, and August at sunset. Hell, even after buying his own screening and duct-taping it on the inside of his cabin windows, he still found himself itching in places he couldn’t scratch in public.

  But the bloodsucking little bastards usually disappeared once it was fully dark, so if he kept a smudge going until then, he should be free to focus on Katy the rest of the night.

  Gunnar perked up when he caught the sound of muted footsteps pounding toward him and wondered if maybe they’d found the horses, then slumped back against the tree when he spotted Katy and Shiloh and no horses running down the hill, only to perk up again when he figured they’d left the giant scaredy-cats tied to a tree.

  But then he slumped again with a sigh, realizing they would have brought at least one horse with them, so he wouldn’t have to walk up the goddamn hill.

  “The eagle told us what to do!” Shiloh shouted as he barely avoided ramming into Katy when she stopped in front of Gunnar. “We’re going . . . to the fjord,” the boy continued in huffs and puffs, “so we . . . can flag down a boat!”

  “The eagle told you,” Gunnar repeated to Katy, watching her already flushed face darken.

  “He didn’t really talk to us,” Shiloh said, his gaze darting between them before landing on Gunnar. “He just wouldn’t let us . . . go past the turnoff to the trail.” The boy took a deep breath. “He was perched on a signpost that said it’s point-two-five miles to the fjord. That’s a quarter of a mile,” he thoughtfully explained. “And every time we tried to keep going on the regular trail, the eagle spread its wings and hissed at us.” He grinned proudly. “Then Katy remembered the fjord is busy in the afternoons with tour boats and fishermen and scientists and stuff, an
d she thinks we can flag down one of them and see if they’ll take us to Inglenook.”

  “How far is the trail from here?” Gunnar asked.

  Shiloh frowned up at Katy.

  “Maybe a quarter of a mile,” she said with a shrug.

  “So, on the advice of an eagle, you think I should hobble a quarter of a mile up a hill and a quarter of a mile down a trail to the fjord so we can flag down a boat that may or may not pass by close enough to see or hear us?”

  She canted her head as though trying to read his mood. “That’s the plan,” she said quietly. “And fishermen usually troll close to the shoreline, and this is about the time of day they start making their way back to the marina.”

  “Then we need to get going,” Shiloh said, starting up the trail walking backward. “It’s gonna take us a while because you can’t run, and we don’t want to miss any of them.”

  “Is it that you don’t trust Telos because he’s a modern mythical god?” Katy asked once Shiloh was out of earshot.

  No, it’s because if we do flag down a boat, then I won’t be spending the night with you. Gunnar slid off the boulder with a heavy sigh to keep from groaning the moment he put weight on his knee. He shot Katy his best manly warrior grin and began hobbling up the hill—partly because he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint her, but mostly because the moment she and Shiloh were occupied watching for passing fishermen, that goddamn eagle was getting a well-aimed rock upside its mythical head.

  Chapter Twelve

  Having been deposited safely back at his cabin, Gunnar stood at his door and watched Katy walk toward him after parking her truck. He resisted the urge to pucker up in advance. She owed him a kiss, and even if she’d forgotten, he wasn’t above a gentle reminder. Who could blame him? She was an extraordinary woman and, as he’d learned today, definitely someone to lean on in a crisis. Of course, she was also a complicated woman from a complicated family and being with her simultaneously set him on fire and made him feel like he’d bitten off more than he could chew.