He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she’d found outside at this time of year that was edible so figured he’d leave it alone. If Mema Angie trusted it, so would he. Besides, it smelled delicious.
As if she sensed his pleasure in more ways than one, Svala’s eyes turned his way. “Would you like me to feed you a bite like Samantha always did, Sean?”
His eyes widened, and he shook his head. If Svala fed him anything looking like she did right now, he wouldn’t be fit to be around children. “Naw, I’m good. I’ll eat when everybody else does.”
Thankfully, she didn’t press the matter, and when the time came, they all sat down to a nice breakfast. Despite being up into the early hours talking to Svala, Megan seemed well rested and happy when she sat down at the table. The wind blew, and snow continued falling as a fire crackled on the hearth and Christmas music played.
He couldn’t remember the last time this house felt so peaceful.
So welcoming.
But that might have something to do with Svala no longer being at war with everyone. Instead, she seemed calm as she ate and chatted with Emily. Unlike Shannon and even Sean, she was as blunt as ever. “I did not see Santa last night, but I did see Odin and the Wild Hunt.”
When Emily asked her about that, she went into great detail about the Festival of Walpurgis, and how it ended nine days later on Walpurgisnacht. Apparently, it was a holiday that honored All-Father’s self-sacrifice upon the World Tree Yggdrasill. On the ninth night, he beheld the Runes, grasped them, and ritually died for an instant. When he did, all the light in the nine worlds was extinguished, and utter Chaos reigned. At the final stroke of midnight, the light returned in brilliance. On Walpurgisnacht, the dead had full sway upon the earth.
“So why did I see Santa then?” Emily asked Svala. “And you saw your All-Father and dead people?”
Sean sipped his coffee and wished he had a thousand dollars for every odd conversation he’d heard in this house. He would be a rich man by now.
Svala shrugged and remained logical as she munched on pancakes. “Perhaps because you were expecting him, yes?”
Emily considered that. “True, but only because you wanted Sean for Christmas. So why would I see Santa instead of you?”
He eyed Svala and waited for an answer. So when was it that Svala told Emily she wanted him for Christmas? He tried to ignore his gut response to the idea. The arousing thought of giving her exactly what she wanted.
Svala’s eyes slid his way, and a sultry little curl came to the corner of her mouth. She knew exactly how she affected him…what he was thinking.
He had not spoken with her since he left her with Megan. Since he saw her dragon…then found her dead.
“Did you think I was beautiful?”
Svala wasn’t looking at him but had continued speaking to Emily. Yet he knew it was her voice within his mind because it felt so good. Like the perfect day at sea but better. Like anticipating a great catch only to find it was beyond his wildest imagination.
So he didn’t speak a response but thought it.
“I’ve never seen anything so impressive,” he murmured. “Or beautiful.”
That was the truth. He might not have been into fantasy fiction and never cared much about dragons before, but when Megan vanished, and he learned the truth, he started researching. It turns out, there’s a wealth of information out there about dragons. The only problem? It was all based on mythology.
But not anymore.
Svala was golden and magnificent. Mighty. Even as she struggled and was taken down by the elements, her dragon had been beyond impressive. Incomparable.
The sultry smile on her face grew softer as she heard his thoughts and her eyes met his. “You do not fear me, then?”
“No,” he replied. He had felt no fear, only relief that she had returned. That she’d come back. The only fear, no, terror, he felt was when she nearly died. He was never more grateful he’d seen that news clip at the bar. Never more grateful that he was right when he flew to the chalet. When he was given a chance to save her.
“I don’t fear you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Furthest thing from it.”
Their eyes held before she continued chatting with Emily. When his eyes met Megan’s, she smiled. She knew exactly what was going on and couldn’t be happier. But then look what she had done to their Viking boat.
Later, as he and Megan stood alone in front of the windows overlooking the ocean, he eyed her. “That boat, our boat, means a lot to Svala.”
A boat, unfortunately, that was now lost at sea. There had been no sign of wreckage, but he couldn’t imagine anything that size surviving these waters. Svala hadn’t asked him about it, but he sensed her refrained curiosity when she continually glanced out the windows over breakfast. It was almost as if she was afraid to ask. More so, afraid to hear the answer.
“The boat does mean a lot to her,” Megan responded as her eyes met his. “But it’s not our boat Sean. It belongs to you and Svala, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’d say you made sure of it,” he murmured. “Why didn’t you just tell me from the get go, Meg? Why didn’t you tell me I was meant for your daughter?”
She sighed and sipped her tea. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned all these long years dealing with dragon-shifters, magic, and time travel, it’s that when it comes to bringing love together, the less you know, the better.” Her eyes held his. “I couldn’t risk it. You had to come together in your own time and in your own way.” Her brows perked. “It was a stroke of luck that she followed me through time.”
“True,” he agreed.
Though tempted to say it was a well-planned stroke of luck considering all Megan had done to the boat, he wouldn’t. After all, if he did, that might imply Svala wasn’t here because of her mother’s health. While they knew she was here for the right reasons now, her initial motives would always remain questionable. Had she come to stick close to her mother or to meet him? To at last lay eyes on a man who had apparently meant so much to her?
“She’s changing, Sean,” Megan whispered. “She’s finally becoming the girl she once was only better.” Her eyes went to him. “And it’s happening because of you.”
Before he could respond, she touched his arm and continued. “Thank you, Sean. For giving Svala CPR last night and saving her life. For tolerating her all this time. You might not admit it, but I know you were always looking for the good in her when nobody else would.” She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for being as good a friend to her as you are to me.” Her eyes grew damp, and she embraced him, whispering, “Naðr and I couldn’t have found a better mate for our little girl if we tried.”
Luckily, his phone rang so he didn’t have to respond. He and Svala might have come this far but why was she truly here? Who had brought her back? Grant? One of her gods? Because as far as he knew, if she was here then they were together. Mated.
Yet were they?
Because it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.
Not yet.
“Hey, Cap,” Nick said from the other end of the phone line. “Got something down here at the marina you’re gonna wanna see.”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“Just c’mon down,” he said as the line grew fuzzy. “And you'll probably want to bring your stowaway.”
When the line cut out, he sighed and pocketed his phone. “Where’s Svala?”
“Outside playing with Emily I think,” Megan said. “Why? Who was that?”
“Nick.” He headed for the closet. “He’s really come through for me during all this.”
“How so?”
Sean told her everything he had done as he pulled on his boots. “He even covered for me when I vanished off the boat.”
She shook her head. “But that’s impossible.”
He frowned as he shouldered into his jacket. “Why?”
“I meant to tell you, but completely forgot,” Megan said. “He left a message yesterday morning that he wouldn’t be able
to go out with you guys. He was stuck up north visiting family.”
“Then he must’ve changed his mind,” Sean said. “Because he was out there with us.”
“He was stuck up north because he broke his ankle ice fishing, Sean.”
Their eyes met and held before they both said, “Grant.”
“Hell, he sure can manipulate a situation, can’t he?” Sean muttered under his breath as he pulled on a hat then headed outside. When his eyes landed on Svala, he could admit that he was just fine being swindled by the devious Scotsman this time.
Her dark blue eyes sparkled as she chased after Emily. For a moment, he could see her doing the same thing with their own child. Sean stopped short at the thought. He had never once considered having a kid. Yet the idea seemed perfectly normal as Emily squealed with delight when Svala scooped her up and threw her into a snow mound then dove in after.
“Where are you going, Uncle Sean?” Emily said happily around a mouthful of snow. “Are you going to investigate why I saw Santa but Svala didn’t?”
“Something like that.” He was tempted to crack a grin when a dollop of snow fell on Svala’s nose and hovered there as she said, “That sounds like a worthy investigation. I will join you.”
“Naw, stay here and play,” he said, heading for the truck.
“Emily, come on in,” Shannon called out. “Time to go Christmas shopping.”
“Aw,” Emily groaned as Svala agreed that sounded like a good plan and nudged her along.
“Just think, by the time you return I will have answers to your questions, little warrior,” Svala said.
Emily considered that. “It is wise for a warrior to understand why things happen as they do, is it not?”
“It is,” Svala agreed. “So that you are better equipped to fight Santa if you must?”
“Fight Santa?” Emily frowned and stopped at the door. “Do you think that will be necessary?”
Svala contemplated the question before she nodded firmly. “It is always best to be on guard with those you put so much faith in.”
“Is it really, Auntie Warrioress Svala?” Emily said softly, clearly not sure she liked the idea.
Sean wasn’t so sure he did either.
It sounded a lot like something the old Svala would say.
Svala hesitated before her eyes, remarkably enough, softened on Emily, and she crouched. “Is Santa someone you would prefer to defend than fight, little one?”
Emily nodded. “Yes, he is.”
“Why?”
“Because he is good.” Emily cocked her head. “And because he got you Sean for Christmas. That’s why you two looked at each other like you did this morning, right?”
Observant kid.
“Perhaps,” Svala said in response to Emily’s question. “So you will never fight Santa?”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
Svala considered her for a moment before she nodded. “Good, then.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Svala nodded again. “You have conviction and stand by what you believe. Therefore, you should do as you see fit with Santa. He is lucky to have you as his protector.”
“He really is.” Emily beamed. “And I’m lucky to have him too.”
Svala grinned, hugged Emily then ushered her inside before heading Sean’s way. He should have already driven away by now, but instead he stood there listening to her, amazed by how much she seemed to be changing.
“So are we truly going to investigate why Emily saw Santa?” she asked, hopping into the truck.
“Nope.” He joined her, pulled out of the driveway and took it easy heading down the road. The lull in the storm was nearly over, and snow had started to fall heavier. “We’re going to investigate what Grant Hamilton has in store for us next.”
When her brows perked, he explained.
After he finished, she said, “So Nick was not Nick at all?” She cocked her head. “But Grant?”
“I’d say the chances are good.” He shrugged. “Hard to know for sure with everything that’s happened.”
“Yet you do not seem upset,” she said.
“Naw.” His eyes flickered to her then returned to the road. “At this point, I’m more curious than anything else.”
Svala remained quiet for a few minutes before she finally murmured softly, “Thank you for saving me last night, Sean.”
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he said just as softly. “Do me a favor, though?”
Her eyes went to his. “Anything. I owe you my life’s blood.”
“No, you don’t.” He shook his head and kept his eyes on the road. He was going twenty miles per hour for a reason. Damn slick. “Just don’t go sailing a small Viking boat into Frenchman Bay during a Nor-easter again, all right?”
A smile hovered on her lips. “Well, if any boat could make it, it was that one.”
Though he kept his eyes straight ahead, he met her small smile with one of his own. “Yeah, but even that boat couldn’t keep you safe, and I don’t wanna…”
When he trailed off, unable to avoid images of her icy, sodden body, her hand slid closer to him, and she murmured, “I did not mean to frighten you, Sean.” Her voice lowered. “I only wanted to get back to mother…and you.”
He nodded, unable to voice everything on his mind. How strongly he felt about her returning. How happy he was that she had made a decision he couldn’t. That she had taken matters into her own hands.
“Sean…” She sat forward, her eyes wide on the shore as he pulled into the marina. “Is that what I think it is?”
He peered through the snow, shocked when he realized what was happening. “Hell.” He hopped out of the truck. “Come on.”
Sean grabbed her hand, and they headed toward shore as a boat was pulled out of the ocean.
Their Viking boat.
“Hey.” A man waved at him. “Are you Sean O’Conner?”
Sean nodded. “Sure am.” He gestured at the boat. “What’s going on?”
“A guy with a Nova Scotian accent was here earlier. Said this beat up thing was yours.” He held out a clipboard and pen. “Sign here, and she’s all yours.”
Sean eyed the boat then the bar. “And nobody in there said otherwise?”
“Nope.” The guy shrugged. “The sooner you sign this, the sooner I can get in there for a drink.”
“Right.” Sean signed it, handed the clipboard back and thanked him.
“You got a hitch on your truck?” the stranger said.
“Ayup,” he said, pouring on his accent to let the guy know he was from around here. “And my own trailer.” Sean nodded at the bar. “Go get in out of the weather. They serve a mean local brew in there.”
The man nodded, and muttered, “More than ready for one,” before he headed inside.
Luckily, Sean kept an extra trailer here at the marina. Even so, by the time he had the boat hooked up to his truck, the weather was far worse. Not only that but Svala was so excited, he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to concentrate on the road. So he had to make a decision. Risk the treacherous drive back to the chalet or head somewhere far closer.
“Where are we going?” Svala asked as he took a right out of the marina.
Somewhere that might keep them physically safe, but do nothing to protect his heart.
“Home.”
Chapter Twelve
SINCE THE MOMENT she met Sean—no, long before that—Svala had wondered about where he called home. She knew it wasn’t the huge, expensive chalet but somewhere else. Somewhere he never took her.
But somewhere she had tracked him.
“I cannot believe you are finally bringing me here,” she murmured as they drove up a narrow road with thick pines on either side.
“Why bother bringing you when you snuck up here anyway,” he said and winked when she glanced at him with surprise.
“How did you know that?” she asked.
“I know my land.” He parked the truck and hopped out. “An
d I know when people have been on it.”
As always, Svala appreciated the stunning view beyond his cozy log cabin and two-stall garage. While surrounded on three sides by thick woodland, it sat on a rocky incline that afforded a sweeping view of the ocean. Of all the places she had been in Scandinavia and even Maine’s woodlands, she had never found a spot that offered her as much peace.
Contentment.
When he started shoveling in front of the garage door, she frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Haven’t got the plow hooked up, so I’m shoveling.” He cocked a grin at her and gestured at another shovel. “Wanna help?”
“Yes.” She murmured a dragon spell, and the snow swept away from the garage doors. “There.”
“Well, can’t bitch about that, can I?” He kept grinning as he put the boat in the garage. Like her, he just couldn’t stop smiling.
They had their boat back.
In little time, a wood stove was lit in the garage, and a warm fire crackled on the hearth in the main living area. It didn’t take Svala long to realize why he hadn’t brought her here sooner. It was a place Sean expressed his true feelings. As she suspected from outside, the workmanship was exceptional.
Not only that, so was the artistry and carvings.
There were sketches of boats, fishermen, and the ocean. The area around here. What he knew.
But then there was more.
Viking drawings. Images of ships as he imagined them in a fortress harbor. Megan as he imagined she might be. Aunt Veronica. Aunt Amber. They were small background faces but part of his life. People he would never forget. Yet even if she were inclined to get jealous, it wouldn’t matter because none of them stood out like one woman did.
Her.
Svala.
When she was young, then in her teenage years, and right now.
She stopped in front of the fire and stared at a picture hanging over the mantel. It was of a little girl sitting in a Viking boat with a net and spear. Fish were piled high, and she had a triumphant smile on her face as she looked at the shore.
“You knew it was me all along,” she whispered.
A Viking Holiday: The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Page 10