Desired By The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 2)

by Veronica Wilson

  “Yes,” Aila said, truly pleased. Had Dagmar really grown up, literally overnight?

  “We need a ruler who knows the people intimately. Knows what they want and need, and how to get it to them.”

  “And?”

  “And,” Dagmar sighed. “I realize now that I would have made a poor leader before. Thank you Aila, for opening my eyes.”

  “You’re welcome.” Aila smiled. “So we’re still at a standstill?”

  “Are we?” Dagmar questioned. “I could have sworn we were working toward something. Do you not know how I feel about you, Aila?”

  “Please, Dagmar,” Aila laughed. “I know exactly how you feel. You feel the same for every available and of-age woman in our village. Admit it, my friend. You’ve always been one to chase the women.”

  “I’m not trying to claim I’m a prudent man who’s never looked twice at a pretty woman. All I’m saying is that knowing you now, the woman you’ve become, makes me think there can be more to life than just a string of women, wine, hunting, and the like.”

  “Welcome to adulthood,” Aila chuckled. The two friends ate supper together, both intent on keeping the newfound peace between them, then Aila allowed Dagmar to walk with her to her tent. Expectant, she looked up into Dagmar’s stormy blue eyes. “Truth be told, you’re catching up faster than I thought you would.”

  “Funny. You’re funny, Aila,” Dagmar teased.

  “I couldn’t help it, you’re such an easy target.”

  “Come see me in the morning won’t you? I have some plans I want to go over with you.”

  “Alright,” Aila agreed. “Now kiss me goodnight so I can sleep.”

  Dagmar grinned, but he took Aila’s face in his hands, gently holding her as his mouth met hers. A fire he still wasn’t used to with her, snaked its way through his blood when he touched her. It flamed through him so that he almost immediately wanted more. It took everything in him to not ask her for more.

  “Aila…”

  “Good night, Dagmar,” she replied, but not before he’d heard the tremor in her voice and felt a ripple of her power. Deep down he knew he was no match for the powers she held inside her, but it didn’t bother him to stir her up once in a while. Dagmar drew up rudimentary plans overnight so he’d have something to show Aila in the morning. If she agreed, they’d start working on the new idea first thing.

  The sun was rising gently over the horizon when Aila stepped into his tent. “Morning,” she said, her eyes still sleepy. Dagmar could barely fight the urge to tumble her into his bed and enjoy a much slower start. Still, he’d asked her to meet him and she had. He’d never said so before, but it was nice to know that he could count on her to do what she said she would.

  “Morning. Warm beverage?”

  “Please,” she smiled. “So, you said you have plans you’d like to discuss.”

  “As you well know, the winters here are brutal, although perhaps not as bad as in our homeland.”

  “Yes.”

  “What would you say if I said we should build more permanent shelters for our people?”

  “I’d say great minds think alike. I’ve been trying to have this conversation with you for some time now.”

  “Do you think it’s too late in the season to start now?”

  “No, but it’ll be considerably harder than if we wait for spring.”

  Dagmar pondered her words and agreed. “Alright, but if it sits well with you I’d like to make an announcement at lunch and pick a few of our strongest men to appoint as leaders. The more homes we get done during the spring, summer and fall, the less we’ll have to worry about next winter.”

  “Alright,” Aila agreed. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to go talk with Breslin and Bregnan to see about their proposed nuptials.”

  “Meet me for a late lunch?”

  “Sure,” Aila agreed. Dagmar kissed her soundly and let her head toward the Bulcher brothers before he headed for the food tent.

  “Good day, everyone!” Dagmar greeted the villagers who were coming in for lunch. “Aila and I have talked it over and have agreed that by this time next year we’d like to have as many of you as possible in more permanent homes.”

  Murmurs swept through the crowded tent as people began to talk. “What sort of permanent homes?”

  “Wood and mortar mostly, although I’ll need to discuss it with most of the men here. You’ll have your pick of a few different designs based on the size of your family, or the projected size, with the understanding that rooms can always be added. Homes can also be swapped should children be added to or leave the home.”

  “What about our elderly?” one man asked. Dagmar knew the man was taking care of his aging parents and thought the question valid.

  “Our elderly are just as important as our youth and will be treated with respect, as always. If they are able to care for themselves, they can choose a plan that suits them. If, however, they cannot, we’ll provide a spacious room where they can rest in comfort and be near to family should they need help.”

  “What is the cost?” a young man asked. Dagmar knew he’d just married and probably only had the bride-price he was given as a groom.

  “All Aila and I ask is that those men and women who can work, do. If you have a specialty, offer your services free of charge and someone will do the same for you. If you don’t have a specialty, but can find another way to contribute to the building, please let Aila or myself know. As for right now, I need Svenbreck and Dufguss to come and see me after you’ve eaten.”

  Dagmar spent a few minutes letting Dragna know that he’d eat when Aila arrived and then he waited for his friends to join him.

  “You rang, master?” Svenbreck teased. Dagmar laughed and realized, not for the first time, why Aila sought out his company. He was laid back, a great ally in a fight, and great company as he listened well.

  “I need leaders to oversee this process. I couldn’t think of any two better than you.”

  “Thank you,” Dufguss said, obviously meaning it.

  “I’ll do my best,” Svenbreck added.

  “Excellent.” Dagmar gave them the lists of things he needed to get done and left them to it while he went in search of Aila.

  “Hey, Dagmar,” Breslin said, almost running toward him.

  “Hey, brother,” Dagmar said, turning toward his friend.

  “So Bregnan and I have been discussing the attack that Dunkerie made on us last week.”

  “And?”

  “We’re in agreement that we need to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

  “You think we should attack them a week before the Winter Solstice?”

  “You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Breslin said, a grin turning his mouth up at the corner.

  “What about your bride-to-be? Doesn’t she have anything to say about this?”

  “Her family is arriving in a week for the wedding, not to mention Bregnan’s woman’s family. I don’t want to have our weddings disrupted by a bunch of Neanderthals with big sticks.”

  “Let me think about it. If we do attack we’ll need every man we have. I don’t like the idea of leaving the village with no men for protection.”

  “Aila will be here to lead and look after the women. Not to mention, we’d never let those assholes get this far.”

  “True. I’d still like an afternoon to think it over.”

  “Alright,” Breslin agreed. “Bregnan and I will see you at supper.”

  “Agreed.” Dagmar watched his friend walk away and sighed. Aila wasn’t going to like this, but he had to give a few points to Breslin. Winter Solstice or not, the men who’d attacked them deserved retribution. He also couldn’t blame him for not wanting to start his marriage out from under the attack that must have scared his beloved quite a bit. It was a man’s job to protect his family. He could see how Breslin and Bregnan would feel the need to pay the men of Dunkerie back for what they’d done.

  “Hey,” Aila called, getting his atte
ntion.

  “Hey yourself.”

  “You have that serious face going on.”

  “Do I?”

  Her laugh bubbled out to him, warming him more than he’d expected. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her closer to him. “You want to go for a swim?”

  “Yes,” she smiled. “But I can’t. I’ve got to meet with Dragna about storing all that meat and when she wants to get started on preparing for Breslin and Bregnan’s wedding feast. Doing a double ceremony means we need to feed everyone twice as much.”

  “Cut the food in half and give everyone mulled wine.”

  “Oh yes, so we can send parents home with their kids in a drunken stupor.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh when she got all serious. “Fine,” he chuckled. “Then walk and talk with me, as I have something to discuss with you.” Dagmar told her about the twins’ idea to attack Dunkerie.

  “It’s a good plan,” Aila sighed. “I’m just not sure that right now is the time to go about it.”

  “What better time is there? Right now they’re doing the same thing we are, preparing for the Solstice. They’ll only half expect an attack, which will leave them with their guard down.”

  “And who stays behind to watch the women and children?”

  “It’s our first time really ruling together, if you’ll be smart enough to accept it.”

  ***

  Aila couldn’t argue that the men had some decent points. She didn’t like the idea of being left with no men for security; however, she could look into Dagmar’s sparkling blue eyes and already see his continuing plans. “You’re thinking about ransacking them, aren’t you?”

  “It would send the strongest message,” Dagmar replied.

  “You have to keep them alive, Dagmar, every single one of them. I can’t bear it if we lose anyone, not this close to the Solstice.”

  “I will, Aila. You know that.”

  She did, and that was the main reason she finally agreed that they should go. It stung more than she thought it would that she’d be sending her best friend and the man she loved to the front line to attack a village much like her own.

  “Don’t let the women and children get hurt.”

  “We won’t,” Dagmar assured her. “But we will defend ourselves, even against the smallest ones in Dunkerie.”

  Aila couldn’t refute the argument Dagmar gave, and eventually she relented and agreed that giving the Dunkeriens a taste of what they’d given was a wiser strategy than sitting around for them to do it again. Still, it was an uneasy move for her. Ruling over Hail had a nasty side she wasn’t so sure she liked. Perhaps having Dagmar with her wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  “When do you plan to leave?”

  “Dusk,” Dagmar said. “That way we’ll be in position come sunrise. While they attacked us at nightfall, we’ll get them before they’ve risen from their beds.” It was a good strategy, even for their small forces.

  “Bring them all home and include yourself.” Aila smiled. She kissed him soundly her power spreading over him like a blanket, and then said she’d meet him later that night. “Wait for me if I’m late. I’ll be there to see you off.”

  “I will,” Dagmar grinned. Aila spent the rest of the afternoon with Dragna, dividing up the smaller portions of meat and curing them. The jerky would be handed out to the families for snacks to hold over little ones between meals, or feed men who went hunting or fishing. As the sun began to set she remembered her promise to Dagmar and searched her tent for the talisman she was making. Grabbing it, she took the knife from her boot and hacked off a lock of her hair. Placing it inside, she sighed, cinched the talisman closed, and headed out to find Dagmar.

  She ran through the village and wound her way through the crowd that was eagerly bidding farewell to the men who were piling onto the ship. She called out for Dagmar, but didn’t find him immediately. Clutching the talisman in her hand, she walked over to the boat as it started to pull away from the shore.

  “Hurry up, Dagmar, damn you’re slow!” Bregnan teased.

  “I’m coming!” Aila heard Dagmar shout back.

  When she turned, though, her blood ran cold in her veins. Dagmar, her best friend, the man she loved, had been consorting with Asgurda, the daughter of Dufguss Bellanger. “Aila, I thought maybe you—“

  She didn’t speak. She couldn’t even hear him past the rushing blood in her ears. Her fist landed against his nose, radiating pain straight up to her shoulder. Cursing low and spitting at him, Aila turned to go before humiliation overrode the anger that swam through her system, hot and heavy. Hate didn’t begin to describe how she felt.

  “Aila! Dammit!”

  Even as he shouted her name, Aila kept walking. How had she been so stupid as to not see through him? The bloody bastard. Did he really think he’d get away with it, that she wouldn’t catch him? It just went to show that Dagmar wasn’t nearly as smart as he thought he was. Aila walked until her thighs ached and, finding herself deep in the outer woods of her people’s village, finally sat down. Thunder, rain and wind crashed over her village as the hurt oozed from her heart. Hot, angry tears coursed down her face as she took in the state of her hand. It was swollen profusely along her knuckles and making a fist was now impossible and brought enormous pain with it. An hour later the swelling was the same and her fingertips had gone numb. Sighing, she wiped her eyes and headed back to find Ragnic.

  “What brings you to see me, darling?”

  “I punched Dagmar in the face and think I injured my hand,” Aila said, ignoring the way Ragnic looked at her.

  “It’s none of my business, of course, but I for one had thought you and Dagmar were sort of dancing around each other.”

  “You ease my heart, Ragnic. Now I know I’m not the only foolish one in our village. Whatever it was Dagmar and I were doing, it’s over. I have no choice now but to split the village. Considering Dagmar isn’t here to argue the point, I’ll be moving my people with me across the land bridge. We’ll settle to the south of Hail.”

  When Ragnic remained silent, Aila went on. “I don’t doubt he’ll be ticked off when he gets back, as I’m pretty sure I broke his nose, but no matter what he says, you do what you think is best, even if that means treating both of our peoples.

  “Your hand is absolutely broken,” Ragnic laughed as he pressed down on her middle finger. Through the intense pain she heard a popping sound and felt some immediate relief.

  “This tea should help some with the pain. The longer you let it steep, the stronger the medicine gets. I’d steep this first pot for a good while. After that, rest. With all you’ve got going on, you’re going to need it.”

  Aila nodded her thanks, noting that Ragnic hadn’t said whether he’d follow her, or stay behind with Dagmar.

  Chapter Three: Degrees of Learning

  Dagmar pressed yet another strip of cloth to his nose and cursed under his breath. Inhaling deep, he pressed the broken bridge of his nose back in place. The curses ripped from his lips as blood poured through his fingers. Through his black eye he glared at Breslin Bulcher, who couldn’t for his own life stop laughing. “If we ever have to do hand-to-hand fighting after this, I want Aila on my team.”

  “Nah, brother,” Bregnan grinned. “We can’t afford her. She took down the mighty Dagmar in one swing.”

  “Shut up, Bulcher,” Dagmar growled.

  “Someone’s a sore loser. I tried telling you that Asgurda was a little loose.”

  “I wasn’t trying to do anything with her. She wanted to say good-bye. What was I supposed to do?”

  “And yet he still knows nothing about women. Aila, you twit, wants to be the only woman in your life. Jealousy is a powerful motivator. Aila, I would say, knows exactly how it feels as she’s green in the gills with jealousy over Asgurda. Not that anyone can blame her.”

  “So I should have been rude to her just to save face with Aila?”

  “No, but you could have answered Aila when she called for you instead o
f letting her walk up on you and Loosy Goosey.”

  Dagmar muttered something about women and their presumptions. Still, when the ship docked on the stretch of land that held their enemy, Dagmar was once again ready to pick a fight. Breslin and Bregnan, along with Svenbreck and Dufguss, would work their way around the other side while Dagmar took his group of ten men straight up the front. Two more groups would fan out and surround the village.

  “Just like we discussed, men. Keep the women and children out of it.”

  Dagmar stood at the locked gate to the Dunkerie clan and waited. An hour later, he heard the loud ram’s horn call and suddenly thirty torches were lit up around him and his men. Dagmar pivoted and drew his sword, clashing it against the strong iron of a man from Dunkerie. Even as he fought he could hear other swords locked in the same sort of battle.

  “Did ye think we’d be sleeping on our arses so you could just walk in and take our women and children, our homes?”

  “It’d be fair revenge for what ya did to our village you dirty bastard!” Dagmar said, anger pulsing through his pained nose. Fueled by fresh frustration, Dagmar bent down at the knee and swinging his sword out hacked into the man’s leg. Blood sprayed across his chest, face and hair as the man fell down. Still, Dagmar had to defend himself against the wounded mans’ sword arm until he pressed a booted foot to his arm. “I’ll see you in the afterlife you lifeless asshole.” With that Dagmar drove the point of his sword into the man’s chest and twisted it until the man’s hand went limp.

  Hearing roars and shouts of pain all around him, Dagmar pushed toward the heaviest of the fighting to Breslin and Bregnan working to push back a swarm of men. “Use some help?” he asked, his blue eyes full of vengeance.

  “Some,” Breslin said as his sword swung up and hacked off a chunk of a man’s hand. The offender fell back, screaming. The threesome hacked and stabbed their way through the horde until they found Svenbreck and Duffguss. The two men were surrounded and easily outnumbered, but Dagmar had to give them points for not giving up. Even as his sword sliced through an enemy, he heard Dufguss yell. “Kiss my ass you bloody bastards!”