Courting Carolina

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Courting Carolina Page 18

by Chapman, Janet


  As for Mackie…well, if her heavy-fisted brother dared to say one disparaging thing to her about Alec, she intended to blacken his other eye.

  Too excited to take one of the slow electric carts, Jane exited Nova Mare’s registration pavilion and ran flat-out toward the large barn set back in the woods at the far end of the resort. She gave smiled nods as she dodged guests in carts headed to the restaurant to have breakfast with the rising sun, and took only cursory notice of the three separate hotels—that eventually would be five—staggered at varying elevations over the resort’s hundred-acre campus. Only a single story high and consisting of eight guest rooms flanked by two suites, each hotel was carved into the rise of the mountain with only the front facade of floor-to-ceiling windows exposed.

  The entire resort, from the hotel to the cottages to Mac and Olivia’s private lodge, had been carefully designed to blend in with the forested terrain yet give each guest an unobstructed view of the spectacular forty-mile-long Bottomless Sea. From any vantage point below, whether looking up at Whisper Mountain from town or from a boat, a person would see nothing but a natural landscape with only occasional hints of man-made structures. The architecture was nothing short of inspired, and Nova Mare was already well on its way to becoming one of the world’s more fashionable destinations.

  But if someone without deep pockets wished to have a rustic Maine-woods experience, Olivia had plans to accommodate them as well. Besides buying most of the timberland around the newly formed inland sea two and a half years ago, Mac had also secretly purchased the family camp Olivia had run for her ex-in-laws—that she had secretly been planning to buy, it turns out. Inglenook sat on the shore of Bottomless, consisting of a main lodge and ten weathered cabins that Olivia hoped to open to budget-minded families just as soon as the scientists moved to the permanent facility they were building in Spellbound and she could refurbish all the cabins. And the wilderness trail was slated to open next spring for the true nature enthusiasts—providing Alec finished it before he had to leave to go be a ski bum again.

  Jane had been thrilled when she had approached Olivia with the idea of running both Nova Mare and Inglenook on clean, sustainable energy and her sister-in-law had not only embraced the idea but asked her to be in charge of making it happen. So Jane had spent that entire spring and summer locked away on Atlantis with several of the island’s more brilliant minds, and by the time the road Duncan was building up Whisper Mountain reached the summit, she’d been able to present Olivia with detailed blueprints for a synergetic wind and solar and geothermal energy system. She’d even included plans for indoor and outdoor saltwater swimming pools, where tidal-powered turbines would pump seawater up from the fiord through shafts cut in the granite mountain. The water would be heated by geothermal exchange before entering the pools, then would naturally cool off again on its return journey to Bottomless.

  Granted, her pool design had required a bit of wizardry to create the shafts in the mountain, but apparently Olivia wasn’t above asking her dear sweet husband to use his own powerful energy when she felt the end justified the means. And Mackie apparently wasn’t above doing anything to please his wife, who had been very pregnant at the time. But only the pools had required the use of the magic—well, for her part of the construction, at least—because Jane had wanted Nova Mare to be a shining example of what was possible on a global scale right now, using twenty-first-century technology that was already available.

  So she’d proudly returned to Spellbound Falls in November with blueprints in hand and quite eager to make it happen, except that her father had suddenly become unreasonably adamant that she instead turn her attention to finding a husband—hence the fight-of-all-fights that had sent her into hiding as Jane Smith. She still wasn’t sure why Sam had insisted on helping her, but she loved him dearly for aiding and abetting her defiance, as she would probably right now be living in some ancient century, married and with a baby or two, if he hadn’t.

  Jane approached the barn, still at a flat-out run, and gave a winded snort at the realization that all she’d managed to do was postpone the inevitable by two years.

  “Nicholas!” she called out as she ran inside. “They told me you were here.”

  He stepped out of a stall leading a horse. “I’m here.”

  So was the Crusader, Jane discovered when he poked his head out of a stall farther down. She waved at Aaron, then grabbed Nicholas’s arm and started dragging him—and the horse he was leading—out of the barn. “Are you the one he gave my satchel to?” she asked in a winded whisper. “Did you talk to him? Did he look okay?” She stopped well away from the barn just as the sun broke over the mountains across the fiord. “Did you go to him, or was he well enough to make the hike up here?”

  “Who are you talking about?” Nicholas asked, only to suddenly stiffen. His hands shot out and grabbed her shoulders when she took a step back. “MacKeage? He was here, on the resort grounds?” He gave her a slight shake when she didn’t immediately answer. “Did you actually see him?”

  “No, I didn’t see him; that’s why I’m asking you. I found my satchel with most of my belongings on the bottom step of my porch this morning when I woke up. I thought you had put it there.”

  Nicholas snapped his gaze toward the resort. “That’s impossible.” He looked back at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “There’s no way he could have gotten within half a league of the resort without my knowing it.”

  Realizing she’d just made a serious error, Jane shot him a broad smile. “Maybe Alec gave my satchel to one of your guards and they set it on my step. You did bring a small army from Atlantis to secure Nova Mare for the next three weeks, didn’t you?”

  He nodded, even as his gaze scanned the surrounding woods. “They would have given the bag to me, not you.” He brought his ice-blue eyes back to her again. “You heard nothing? You just woke up and it was there?”

  Growing alarmed at his alarm, Jane tried smiling again while this time patting his chest reassuringly. “It must have been Duncan, then. Alec must have given his uncle my belongings, and Duncan brought them to me early this morning.”

  “I would have known it.” He lifted one of her hands and slapped the reins in it. “Take the horse back to its stall.”

  Jane dropped the reins and ran after him when he started toward the resort. “Nicholas, no,” she said, pulling him to a halt. “You leave Alec alone. He’s not trying to cause any trouble; he simply returned my belongings.”

  He gently pulled free. “I’m not worried about MacKeage,” he growled. “I’m worried about how he got on the grounds without my knowing it.” He reached out and touched her cheek, his eyes suddenly softening. “I won’t hurt him, Lina, unless he forces me to. I just need to find out how he got—”

  “You’re right on time, princess,” Aaron said, leading another horse past the one she’d abandoned. “It looks to be a fine morning for our hunt. I’ll help you mount then go get your hawk, so you two can become acquainted before we leave.” He stopped and gave a slight bow, the rising sun making his beady brown eyes appear golden. “I don’t doubt you’ll find her beauty and spirit matches your own, princess.”

  “Please, last evening I asked you to call me Caroli—”

  “The hunt’s off,” Nicholas interrupted.

  “Off, you say?” Aaron snarled, his eyes shooting to Nicholas before he obviously remembered he probably shouldn’t act like a buffoon, and looked back at Jane with concern. “Are you not feeling well this morning, princ—Carolina? I must say you do look rather flushed.”

  Nicholas grasped her arm and started leading her toward the resort. “Take care of the horses, Devonshire,” he said with only a cursory glance over his shoulder. “And she’s highness to you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Seemingly endless days of smiling and nodding, batting her eyelashes, politely laughing at lame jokes, and demurely avoiding sometimes blatant but more often awkward attempts to lure her away from Nicholas’s w
atchful eye were starting to take their toll on Jane’s resolve. Damn, she’d forgotten how tiring acting clueless could be.

  Speaking of which, she was one second away from either punching Nikki in his rock-hard belly or deliberately sneaking off the resort grounds just to wipe that stupid grin off his face. The man was enjoying her command performance way too much.

  By the gods, her father’s hand-chosen warriors were ancient-minded. Well, except for Niall MacKeage. Jane didn’t know if Niall was deliberately avoiding her to pique her interest in him or if he had accepted her father’s invitation simply to get to this century. Oh, three days ago he’d dutifully taken his turn alone with her—and Nicholas, of course—but instead of expounding on her beauty and pleasant demeanor, Niall had spent their entire four-hour ride talking about automobiles.

  The man was fascinated by anything with an engine, apparently, and had been sorely disappointed when they’d taken horses instead of one of the “amazingly silent little carts” that he was constantly zipping around in. And she’d noticed that not only was Niall spending more time with his MacKeage descendent than trying to catch her eye, he’d somehow managed to persuade Duncan to let him drive one of the large earth-moving machines working up on the site of the fourth hotel.

  Jane figured that after the ball, Nicholas was going to have to ambush Niall in order to send him back to twelfth-century Scotland—assuming the highlander didn’t run off to Pine Creek to seek sanctuary with Winter MacKeage Gregor. Winter was a powerful drùidh—who just happened to be married to Matt Gregor, a nefarious magic-maker better known as Cùram de Gairn. In fact, Winter was the first female drùidh, and if not for her intelligence and courage and womanly insight, the Trees of Life would be facing extinction—much to Titus’s consternation. But apparently Providence didn’t have her father’s worry about putting such powerful magic in the hands of a woman.

  As for Niall MacKeage…well, he was over an hour late for their picnic.

  Jane absently tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of the amazingly silent little cart she was sitting in—the picnic basket stowed in back and starting to smell of pungent cheese—as she glared at Nicholas grinning at her from atop his horse. He had opted for one horsepower instead of several, because he claimed the carts couldn’t race and weave through the woods if he needed to whisk her to safety.

  “You know what I think, Nikki?” Jane said through a tight smile.

  “I usually prefer not to know what you’re thinking, princess.”

  “I think you’re afraid of modern technology.”

  He merely arched a brow.

  “And that’s why I haven’t seen you driving or even riding in a cart.”

  He dismounted and walked over. “You want to know what I think, Lina?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “I think you’re more pissed that your highland suitor hasn’t been completely taken in by your little performance than you are that he’s not really interested in courting you.” His grin turned tender as he ran a finger down her cheek. “You’re not losing your touch, Lina; Niall is just more enamored with this century than with marriage.”

  Jane gripped the steering wheel with both hands, hunching her shoulders on a sigh as she stared out the windshield at the restaurant. “He’s the only one of them who’s not a buffoon. I actually enjoyed our ride the other day. We conversed as equals, and not once did he brush off anything I said as mere woman-talk. I can’t believe he’s from the twelfth century.”

  “There’s a reason Providence decided its first female drùidh would come from the clan MacKeage; they’ve always been forward-thinking and open-minded for their time. And from what I understand, they still are.”

  Jane glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you know where Father’s gone off to? I haven’t seen him around for the last two days, and Mom was vague when I asked where he was.”

  “If Rana’s not saying, what makes you think I will? I serve both of your parents.”

  Jane suddenly straightened. “Please tell me he’s not seeking revenge on Alec.”

  He smiled, even as he shook his head. “He’s not.”

  She dropped her forehead to her hands on the steering wheel. “I miss him.”

  “Your father or MacKeage?” Nicholas asked with a chuckle.

  She rolled her head just enough to shoot him a glare, only he didn’t see it because he was looking toward the other end of the resort.

  “I guess it’s true that nature abhors a vacuum.” He gestured in the direction he was looking. “If one suitor stands you up, then another one rushes into the void.”

  Jane lifted her head, only to growl in frustration when she spotted Jacoby—the Prussian prince—smiling like the village idiot as he strode toward them leading two horses. “Damn, he’s a full-of-himself horse’s ass.” She glared up at Nicholas. “I swear if I hear his whiny voice say ‘Oh, highness, you mustn’t exert yourself like that’ one more time, I’m going to punch him right in his whiny nose. What in the name of Zeus was Father thinking to invite him? I thought he wanted my husband to be a fearless warrior.” She gestured at Jacoby, lowering her voice as he drew closer. “I’m tempted to plant a big hot kiss on the toad just to watch him faint dead away.”

  “You’re not the only proficient actor in this little drama, Lina,” Nicholas said quietly, turning and mounting his horse.

  “Good morn, highness,” Jacoby chirped in old-world German—which Jane didn’t have any problem understanding because every Atlantean spoke and read all the languages, including varying dialects. Heck, they’d invented some of them.

  Jacoby gave a slight bow. “It’s come to my attention that Laird MacKeage had some pressing matter he needed to attend to this afternoon, and fearing you would be left at loose ends, I thought I might interest you in a gentle ride through the lovely autumn foliage.” His grin tightened as he looked up at Nicholas. “Assuming your stalwart protector approves.”

  “You’re in luck, Jacoby, as her highness just happens to have a food basket already packed,” Nicholas said far too cheerfully, making Jane stifle a smile when Jacoby’s eyes narrowed at her stalwart protector’s refusal to address him has highness.

  But heck, Nicholas called the king and queen of the drùidhs by their first names, because the man had earned the right—and had the scars to prove it.

  Jane jumped out of the cart far more cheerfully than she felt. “Why, I do believe I would love a gentle ride through the foliage.” She grabbed the basket out of the back of the cart and shoved it at Nicholas, then quickly spun away when she noticed something leaking out of the bottom of it. “Nikki will carry our lunch for us. Can you help me mount, please?” she asked sweetly, batting her lashes as she walked to the fidgeting stallion instead of the half-asleep mare. “I hope you chose a gentle horse for me.”

  “No!” the prince snapped as he grabbed her arm and pulled her away, only to immediately let go as he shot a concerned look at Nicholas. “I mean, this is your mount, highness,” he said, moving the mare up beside her. He cupped his hands together and bent toward her left foot. “Your safety will always be my first concern.”

  Jane let him lift her full weight as she slowly swung her leg over the saddle, taking note that Nicholas was probably correct about Jacoby’s performance, as the man certainly didn’t lack physical strength. Yes. Well. He could act like a simpering buffoon until the sun burned out; she was not living in the fifteenth century. She took the reins he handed her, gave him a coy smile as she gave the mare a kick, and realized it really was going to be a gentle ride when the horse couldn’t even work up a trot.

  Jane shot Nicholas a speaking glare as she plodded past, then sucked in a fortifying breath. “So, Jake,” she said as the prince trotted up beside her while working to control his prancing stallion. “I’m just dying to hear all about the vast kingdom you’re in line to inherit.”

  Because Nicholas wasn’t about to leave her alone with Jacoby—even though the prince was in
no condition to make a pass—and because he wouldn’t let her gallop back to the resort alone to get help, either, Jane ended up riding the stallion and leading her mare—since the damn stallion kept trying to mount the mare when she tried leading it—while Nicholas held a groaning and hissing Jacoby in front of him on his horse.

  She still wasn’t sure what had happened, but one minute the prince had been leaning quite far toward her—after they’d ridden around a bend in the trail far enough ahead of Nicholas that the buffoon felt safe to boldly steal a kiss—and the next minute all hell had broken loose.

  Jacoby’s stallion had suddenly…exploded, rearing up with a loud scream of what appeared to be surprise. And already being off balance, the prince had gotten slammed into a tree as the horse bolted down the trail. Somehow managing to stay with the startled beast, Jacoby had then pulled back on the reins so hard, the stallion had slid to a halt on its haunches, and Jane had watched with her hands over her mouth as her Prussian suitor went flying over the horse’s head with an equally startled scream—which had ended abruptly when he slammed into another tree.

  Nicholas shot past her at a flat-out gallop, and Jane didn’t know which surprised her more: what had just happened or that her stalwart protector had a large caliber, very modern-looking pistol in his hand. Nicholas had pulled his own horse to a sliding stop—his butt not even lifting an inch off the saddle—between her and the unmoving Jacoby as he scanned the woods on both sides.

  “What in hell happened?” he growled, still scanning.

  “I have no idea. One minute he was trying to steal a kiss, and the next minute his horse suddenly bolted, like something bit its ass.”

  He finally looked at her, and in the blink of an eye Nicholas went from warrior to childhood friend, one side of his mouth lifting. “Something, Lina…or you?”

 

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