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

by Veronica Wilson

  “I can’t believe how amazing this home is,” he gushed, ushering Aila back to a private room.

  “I’m so glad you’re happy with it.”

  “It’s completely changed the way I see my patients. They’re friends of course, but with all the new little ones we’re adding I feel an obligation to keep people’s medical issues private, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do,” she smiled. “Speaking of, I was wondering if you had something for an upset stomach. I’ve been super sensitive the last couple days.”

  Ragnic asked her a series of questions that made her chuckle. “And why would any of that matter?”

  “Because my dear,” Ragnic smiled. “I don’t think you’re sick or suffering from any abnormal ailment. I’m much more inclined to think that our soon to be ruler is with child.”

  “With child…” Aila said, letting her voice trail off. “I’m having a baby?”

  “It’ll take a little more time to be sure, but the symptoms you’ve described sound very much like a baby on the way. Let me be the first of many to congratulate you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, still blown away by the news. “Do you know when the baby…when the baby will come?”

  “Well, all babies come in their own time, but it’ll take about nine months or so. I’d say sometime the fall equinox should be about right.”

  Aila could scarcely imagine carrying a baby, Dagmar’s baby, for the better part of the next year. What would Dagmar say? Suddenly the future she found to be so certain, was anything but. “I need to go Ragnic, thank you. Oh! How long should these symptoms last?”

  “The nausea and tiredness should be over within the next nine weeks or so. Then you should feel right as rain for three months. The last three the fatigue will come back with a vengeance as your body prepares for bringing your little one into the world.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  She hurried back to Dagmar, being careful not to jostle him too much as she laid down beside him. “That was fast,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep.

  “Long enough for you to rest. I’m glad, apparently we’re both in need of sleep,” Aila said with a yawn.

  “You’re tired?”

  “It’s just a symptom of the baby I’m carrying.” Aila waited for Dagmar to catch on and giggled when his pretty blue eyes went huge.

  “A baby?”

  “Our baby,” she smiled hugely. She put his hand over her womb and felt a whole new wave of love for him when he gently caressed her.

  “When?”

  “Ragnic said sometime around the fall equinox.”

  “A baby, our baby.” Aila understood the way Dagmar was feeling. She was quite astonished as well. In less than two hours she’d become Mrs. Dagmar Stalson. Aila Dagny Stalson and she was already carrying their baby.

  ***

  Dagmar waited for Aila as Dragna, her surrogate mother, walked her toward him. He took her hand and pulled her closer as Gustaff, the village mystic, performed their ceremony.

  “Welcome people of Hail,” he started. “Thank you for gathering here tonight to celebrate the union of Aila Dagney Forsberg and Dagmar Alan Stalson. They ask you all to be witnesses to their mutual and forever lasting love.”

  The ceremony itself lasted mere minutes, but the celebration of their wedding, along with Breslin and Bregnan’s nuptials, and the celebration of the Solstice together, lasted well into the morning hours. Just as the sun began to rise on the eastern horizon, Dagmar tucked Aila close to him and stood on the platform where they made major announcements. “Thank you so much for joining us in the celebration of our wedding and the winter Solstice, truly a wonderful time to wed.

  “It has come to our attention as well that Aila is carrying our child-“ Dagmar had to stop as the waves of cheering and applause swept over them. “We are ecstatic to be expecting our first baby around the fall equinox of the coming year and hope that this is a sign of great things to come.”

  The cheering and applause came again as Aila and Dagmar’s people congratulated them on their nuptials and soon coming baby. “I knew it when I saw you this morning,” Dragna gushed, giving Aila an intense hug. “Grow well sweet baby. See me for some herbs to settle your stomach.”

  Aila promised she would as soon as they got settled and took some sleep. She walked easily with Dagmar toward their tent, meeting Breslin and Bregnan on the way with their wives in tow. “Congratulations,” the two brothers said together.

  “Thank you,” Dagmar said, shaking his friend’s hands. “Imagine, all three of us married and settled down all on the same day.”

  “Scary isn’t it?” Bregnan laughed. He got a light punch in the arm from his pretty wife. “Just wait until our wives are expecting. We may have to go hunting overnight just to remember that we’re men.”

  “Definitely,” Dagmar chuckled. “Right now I’m going to go sleep until I feel human again.”

  “Sleep, right.” Breslin chuckled, earning his own punch in his side.

  “You two don’t stop, your women are going to beat you senseless.” Dagmar and Aila headed on after saying farewell with a promise to see them later that morning. “How are you feeling?”

  “I feel alright,” Aila smiled. “I’d feel better if my husband made love to me.”

  “Already?” Dagmar asked, surprised at her desire.

  “I feel, different. I can’t explain it, but somehow, knowing that I’m carrying our baby endears me to you in a way I wasn’t before I knew. I love you Dagmar, I have since I was eight years old, but somehow I love you even more knowing I’m having your baby.”

  “I love you too, Aila,” Dagmar said, smiling and pulling her close. I wanted to tell you that you looked wonderful tonight.”

  “Thank you,” she smiled. He watched as she stripped off her tunic, exposing her milky, white breasts, their pink tips begging for his touch. Her leggings came next and Dagmar found an easy ache for her that seemed as natural as breathing. “Do you want me?”

  He chuckled as she came toward him. He’d always marveled at her dark, arrow straight hair and its contrast against her pearly skin. “I can’t put into words how much I want you, Aila. Suddenly though the thought of touching you scares me.”

  “Are you afraid you’ll hurt the baby?”

  “Yes,” he blurted, his hands shaking much to his chagrin. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt him, deathly afraid I’ll hurt you and more likely myself. This wound on my side won’t heal overnight and the thought of new stitches doesn’t thrill me.”

  “We can always try what we did earlier,” Aila offered. “Or I could try this.” Aila pressed her hand to the stitches as heat radiated from her hand. It warmed his skin until he was all but cursing. When she was finished chanting though, Aila felt the stitched dissolve against her palm.

  Dagmar looked down at his scar and grinned. “You’re a minx I tell you.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Dagmar grinned. Lying down, Dagmar showed Aila how to straddle him, how to take him in, to the depth she preferred. The first time she sank down on him Dagmar had to close his eyes to concentrate on control. Aila was a woman who was wonderful simply because she didn’t realize how wonderful she was.

  She rode him up and down, turning them both on as he watched her touch herself. Her hands cupped her breasts, as if offering them to him as they made love. Wanting to show her more, Dagmar took her hand and pressed it between her legs, teaching her how to stroke her clit to the rhythm she set. Within minutes Aila was riding him hard, her moans of pleasure pulling him along with her. She crested easily, her orgasm sliding through her as he anchored her while he came.

  Pulling her close, Dagmar covered them with the thick bear blanket, ensuring both of them would stay warm. She curled next to him and as if the child she carried had requested it, he rested his hand over their new baby. He couldn’t explain the awe that had come over him when Aila had mentioned expecting a baby. Before her, he wasn’t even sure he’d wanted children. Now though, the th
ought of raising a beautiful little girl like Aila was thrilling. So was a shot that the baby would have red, curly hair like him. The toss-up was just as exciting as the news of their baby. He could hardly wait to meet their new addition.

  ***

  Aila and Dagmar spent the winter and spring continuing to oversee their people’s affairs. With the expert help of Svenbreck and Dufguss homes continued to be built for all of Hails’ residents. Much like Aila, Breslin and Bregnan announced shortly into winter that their wives were also expecting babies. The summer flew by and once the last villager’s home was constructed, work started in earnest of Dagmar and Aila’s new abode. When finished it would sport an indoor area for holding important meetings. It also would sport an area for expansion should they have other children.

  “This is amazing,” Aila smiled as she walked through the structure. The wide open spaces were huge compared to the small tent she currently shared with Dagmar, especially considering she was very pregnant now.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Svenbreck said, wrapping Aila in a hug a she stepped into her home. “Congratulations on everything.”

  “Thank you, Sven.”

  “Come inside,” he beckoned. You’ll notice immediately how the clay walls help to keep everything much more solid in temperature. Cool in the summer and warm in the winter, you’re going to love this place.” Svenbreck took her room by room, explaining how each room supported her and Dagmar in their roles as rulers over the people of Hail. “This is where you and Dagmar can meet to discuss topics that affect us all. You can also, should you decide to, come up with a council of leaders to help carry out your wishes as our village continues to grow.”

  “And the living quarters?”

  “Right through that hallway there. You’ll have a huge room for you and Dagmar to share and then right off of it is the baby’s room. I’ve left plenty of land off the edge there should you two make any more babies.”

  “Thank you Sven,” Aila gushed. “I still can’t believe how quickly everything came together.”

  “It’s not a hardship for our first queen,” he grinned. “Tell Dagmar, whenever he’s ready, Duffgus, Bregnan, Breslin, and I are ready to hunt. I know he mentioned earlier that we needed to stock up as we seem to be popping out babies like rabbits.”

  “This is true. With the Bulcher wives and myself carrying, we’ll have three new additions within the next few months. Not to mention Dragna’s granddaughter carrying twins.”

  “I can’t even imagine two at one time. I would think, should I ever have children, one at a time should suffice.”

  “I like to think so,” Aila smiled. “Although I’m not testing fate.”

  “I don’t blame you, that’s for sure,” Svenbreck said. “Well, I’m going to go pack up what I need for the hunt later.”

  “Sounds good,” Aila smiled. “Thanks again Sven. I’ll send Dagmar your way when I see him.”

  “Thanks, Aila. I’ll see you again soon.”

  ***

  Dagmar paced up and down the length of the food tent, gnawing on his finger nails as he waited. Even without a way to mark the true passing of time besides the sun, he was a nervous wreck, looking up at the exit of the tent every five seconds. “She’ll come through with flying colors,” Breslin smiled. He knew too well the anguish Dagmar must be going through. His own wife was just days away from delivering their child and it was a race to see if he or Bregnan would be a father first.

  “Aila’s a strong, brave woman,” Bregnan agreed. “She’d whoop us and I have no doubt she’ll deliver herself of a beautiful baby.”

  “I can’t take it,” Dagmar said, springing toward the back of the village. He burst into their home as the first tiny cries ripped through the air. He saw Aila on their bed, a huge smile on her face as she held his daughter, their daughter in her small hands.

  “You’re the new father of a beautiful little Ceana Danga Stalson.”

  “You named her after our mothers?”

  “It seemed fitting, considering neither of them are here to enjoy her.”

  Overcome, Dagmar simply sat down on the edge of the bed. He watched as Aila put his dark haired beauty to her breast. The new babe suckled easily and seemed so content with the world around her. Within what seemed like minutes, his own arms were full of sweet smelling baby. “I’ve never held a newborn before,” he whispered.

  “Not even our siblings?” Aila asked, truly astonished. “I can just imagine what would have happened should my parents have had more.”

  “You’re not thinking about more right now are you?”

  “Not right now,” Aila chuckled. “My body is wrecked right now, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t entertain the thought in the future. I’m partial, but she’s gorgeous and I like the baby we’ve made together.”

  “She was made with love,” Dagmar smiled. “Even if we didn’t know it at the time.”

  “That she was,” Aila agreed.

  The pair spent their lives loving each other and the people of Hail. The village thrived through the centuries, always choosing Dagmar and Aila’s descendants to rule. They taught through modesty and moderation, instilling in them the kindness that saw to the needs of the people before the needs or wants of the ruling family. Decades and centuries later if you were to look at the Pict people now, you would see that those same fundamental beginnings ring true, even now.

  They have technologies now that weren’t available back then, things like working indoor plumbing, washers and dryers, cars, and the like. But beneath it all, you can look back to see through the generations that Aila and Dagmar’s children and grandchildren kept to the principles of Hail and it’s generous king and queen. To see their beginning you might not think that Aila and Dagmar would have made such a great ruling couple, but they came to complement each other in the most advantageous way. They’d come through mutual tragedy and found that through promised pleasure and by holding each other accountable to pleasure they were able to bare the pain that life sometimes sent their way.

  Aila and Dagmar might not have lived a long time when compared with today’s lifespans, but their legacy, even now, lives on in the Scottish people. Everything from kilts and bagpipes to red hair and freckles, Scotland became the backdrop of a love story that would span the ages and go down in history as one of the most elegant and lovely stories of romance, war, and pleasure.

  THE END

  Highlander's Fight

  Chapter 1:

  The sound was loud and unfamiliar. Aila looked up from the hearth where she the larde red deer had been set to cooking for the evening meal. Her hands, sill holding a large bunch of herbs, stilled and she looked at Dragna with a questioning expression.

  Dragna looked equally puzzled but she also looked afraid. Aila stood, her eyes going to Ceana, who was busy stuffing grains into a pot. At five the child was stunningly beautiful. She had her father’s red hair and her mother’s gray eyes, fringed by a thick set of black lashes that gave her a mysterious and wise look, one that seemed far too old for her tender years.

  Ceana looked up and asked, “What is it?”

  Aila’s throat closed and she said, “I don’t know. Ceana, you and Dragna go to the cave, the one where we put the fresh meat until it’s cured. Now.”

  Dragna stood. Her age showed in her slow movements. Dagmar came runnin, his face tight. He said, “The hunters have come back. There’s an entire army marching toward us. They’re miles away, at least five. We have to get the little and old ones to safety. Now.”

  Fear exploded into Aila’s being. The wind smelled of sweat and the sound grew louder. There must be a great many headed toward them then. She nodded and said, “Dragna, tell the others. Don’t go to the cave, if they’re many and they’re hungry they’ll find it quickly enough. Go into the woods, deep. Head for the highest of the hills and the hunter camps there.

  “There’s a cache of food, but do not light fires. They’ll see and smell the smoke from miles away.”
r />   Dagmar said, “We’ll have to hold them Aila.”

  She nodded. She knew what he meant without having to hear him say it. The men coming toward them were bent on murder, and claiming Pictland. The Hail had little chance against so many, and their only hope was to allow some of their number to escape while they fought the invaders. The ones who got away would be the ones who carried on their legacy here in Pictland.

  She, Dagmar, and the ones who stayed to fight would, undoubtedly, all die here.

  So be it.

  Her heart broke as she considered, for one moment, that Ceana would be an orphan and that despite their best efforts the people of the Hail might not be able to flee far enough away to escape the charge of the army headed for them.

  She thrust that thought aside. Now was not the time to consider such things. Now was the time to fight.

  She took a deep breath. Dagmar gathered the men and weapons. Aila gave the deer, neatly skinned, a regretful glance. It seemed a shame to waste it.

  Dagmar gave the orders. Some of the best hunters were to go with the people who were to flee. They’d help to provide for them, and to protect them. The land was wide and deep, and there was plenty of places in its thick forests where they could escape the grasp of the invaders. But they had to get away from Hail first.

  Several of the hunters protested. They wanted to stay and fight but Dagmar said, “No. If Hail is to survive our people must survive this day. You must go to help make sure they survive. Those are our children, and they will carry on the blood and tradition of the Hail. You must go, or we all fail.”

  The hunters and the others fled, carrying little with them. One hunter took up the deer and several others took small things necessary for their survival. Everyone carried a slim roll of furs to use as shelter and cover.

  They were gone in minutes, fading into the high forest soundlessly. Aila asked, “Do you think it will be enough?’

  He nodded. “They know how to hide deep in the woods and how to hunt. They’ll be without fire but they can eat the meat raw if they have to, and they will be fine.”