by Spear, Terry
Everything was going fine, busy as usual, when the two men of the enemy wolf clan finally walked into the shop, making Heather feel as if they were turning her sunny day into something dark and dangerous. The brothers glanced around at the customers eating and visiting. Were they checking to see if any of her clansmen were there, ready to stop them from whatever they were up to?
She sure wished a whole bunch of men from her clan were sitting there eating right now. She suspected the brothers might have gone on their way then.
The lupus garous attempted to look easygoing, when she knew they were anything but. Their clan had been fighting with her people through the ages. They’d been pirates in the old days and were still trying to cheat or steal from others. Robert epitomized cunning and deviousness. He was a cutthroat who wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone who got in his way. His brother went along with everything he did.
Heather wanted to tell them they weren’t welcome here, but she didn’t want to cause a scene in front of her customers. As long as the Kilpatricks were behaving themselves and had only come to shop, she would just have to deal with them and leave her feelings out of it.
Lupus garous had to take care of their own kind if they were involved in criminal acts. They didn’t want a wolf incarcerated long term, even if the rogue wolf could control his shifting during the full-moon phase. So if the Kilpatricks caused any trouble, Heather couldn’t call anyone other than her own wolf-pack leaders to handle it.
A chill ran up her spine as she eyed the brothers with a wolf’s wariness. Sometimes, men worked in the shop, but not right this minute. Ironically, many of the clansmen who cooked and served there had sworn they would never want to work under medieval conditions again, but they got a kick out of the nostalgia at the shop. They did have modern ovens and stoves and fridges in the back to keep up with the growing business’s orders and, of course, fresh running water instead of having to carry the water from a well like they did in the old days.
Three women were in the back cooking, and Lana was still baking bread, while two servers were filling trays with the meals. Another woman was handling takeout orders.
Robert Kilpatrick, the older of the two brothers, gave Heather a small smile. It wasn’t warm or friendly or reassuring in the least. More calculating. She didn’t trust him or his brother.
Even though Heather knew Patrick wasn’t at fault in her fiancé’s death, she still didn’t like him. She was certain the men’s appearance in her shop meant trouble. Anytime she or other pack members had dealings with them, there were problems.
Another couple of customers entered the shop: two men, all smiles, wearing New York City T-shirts from the Big Apple, jeans, and sneakers. Americans? Maybe.
The Kilpatrick brothers glanced at them, but the Americans ignored them and continued to the counter. “We’ll take two of the steak pies,” one of the men said.
One looked suspiciously like the star of the movie they would be filming at the MacQuarries’ castle, Guy McNab. Heather smiled brightly at him. “Aye, sure.” She rang up their orders and noticed Lana glance at the two men and her jaw drop.
Don’t burn the bread or drop it, Heather wanted to tell her.
She wanted to ask if they were here because of the film, but she couldn’t in front of the Kilpatricks. She was dying to know if the one man was Guy, or maybe it was his stunt double.
The Kilpatrick brothers were reading the sign listing all the meat pies. Realizing she was watching them, Robert smiled at her a little again. It still wasn’t a friendly smile. Patrick didn’t bother. They sauntered over to the glass case filled with sweet desserts on display: clooties (fruit-studded dumplings boiled in a cloth), black buns (Scotland’s currant-and-raisin-filled version of a fruitcake), shortbread cookies, empire biscuits (shortbread filled with jam and topped with a bit of icing and a cherry) and millionaire’s shortbread (Heather’s favorite, a shortbread base topped with layers of caramel and chocolate).
A Canadian customer was taking pictures of the medieval decor: brass lanterns and swords and shields, and a bow and quiver of arrows, and was sharing them with friends and family, which always helped Heather’s business. Paintings of Highlanders in ancient kilts—in full color and with a textured look to give them an aged appearance—hung on the stone walls. Wolves and Irish wolfhounds joined them in some of the portraits. Of course, the pairing was kind of an oxymoron since wolfhounds took down wolves in the old days, but the lupus garous had raised wolfhounds as pets and hunting dogs from early on. Of course their dogs hadn’t hunted the wolf kind.
Heather glanced outside and noticed another family taking seats at one of the tables before they came in to order. Eating outside was perfect for nice weather like today—sunny, warm, breezy.
No one in the pack had envisioned the shop would be such a success when it first began, though Julia, a well-known romance author, had written about it in some of her stories, encouraging visitors who read her books to check out the pie shop while on vacation to the area. Even the locals loved it.
Heather smiled at a lady from Wales who came up to the counter to get a sweet dumpling to go. She chose a clootie dumpling filled with sultanas and currants, bread crumbs, sugar, spice, milk, and golden syrup. All these ingredients had been mixed into dough, which was boiled in a cloth in water, then dried in the oven. Heather boxed the dumpling for the woman and set it on the counter, then took the money for it and thanked the woman before she left.
The shop had started to get party requests for medieval meals, and it looked like they would need to expand their staff and building to accommodate the orders. Not only that, but Heather’s shop was contracted to help cater the main meals during the film shoots. The MacQuarrie staff were contracted to prepare whatever she didn’t make for the main meals. She was thrilled and hoped the shop continued to be a success.
“We’ve heard so much about your shop that we had to come and check it out,” Robert said, leaning against her counter.
She didn’t believe him for an instant. Her phone was sitting on the ledge below the high counter and out of his sight, so she started to text Ian to see if he could send some backup, other than her three brothers—Oran, Jamie, and Callum, who would just as likely kill the men and ask questions afterward—if she needed the help.
The doorbell jingled again, and she looked up to see who it was, afraid it would be more of the Kilpatricks’ kin. Instead, Enrick MacQuarrie pulled the door closed behind him, and a bit of relief washed over her. Now he was a welcome sight. Not for his supposed interest in dating her. That was so far-fetched, she couldn’t believe Lana would even think it. But Heather knew he would be all protective when it came to her or any other she-wolf of the MacNeill pack.
She didn’t send the text message to Ian, figuring Enrick would deal with the Kilpatricks if they gave her any trouble.
Not that she was totally reassured. Anything could go wrong, and she sure didn’t want Enrick hurt either.
He looked so much like one of the men wearing a New York T-shirt while they waited for their steak pies that he could have been his double. Ever since Guy McNab had made it big as a film star in America, Enrick had been mistaken for him whenever he ventured out of the area.
Enrick was the middle triplet brother of Grant and Lachlan MacQuarrie, tawny-haired and good-natured—except if he was defending the pack members or his friends, then watch out. He had a warrior’s heart, yet Heather had seen a real soft side to him too—playing tug-of-war with the Irish wolfhound pups, chasing the kids around the inner bailey in a game of tag, growling as if he were a wolf in his fur coat and making the kids squeal in delight. She’d seen him playing with his brothers as wolves and he was totally aggressive then, not wanting either of his brothers to win the battle between them. And in a snowball fight, he was the fastest snowball maker and thrower she’d ever seen. If they played on teams, she wanted him on hers.
So h
e did let his hair down, so to speak, with the kids and with his brothers and others. With her? He clearly thought she was trouble.
At least he was a wolf with a pack friendly to her own, and she smiled brightly at him, glad he was here in case she needed him.
There was no smile for her, his look instead dark and imposing as he glanced from her to the Kilpatrick brothers, still trying to figure out what they wanted to buy. She hoped Enrick wouldn’t start a fight. They had so many customers, and she didn’t want to see a brawl break out in front of them. It surely wouldn’t help business.
Robert pointed to the sign on the wall listing the kind of pies they sold. “We’ll take a couple of the steak and kidney pies to go.”
Okay, so they weren’t causing trouble. Yet. They hadn’t noticed Enrick’s arrival, and she hoped he wouldn’t cause things to get ugly when the other men were behaving…for the moment. Enrick was observing them with a do-anything-I-don’t-like-and-you’ll-die look.
Robert leaned against the oak countertop. “We hear there’s supposed to be a movie filmed at one of the castles nearby.”
As her heartbeat quickened, Heather’s gaze darted to Enrick’s, and he raised his brows at her. Man, she was about to give the secret away in that one little glance at him. She knew he would question her next, once the men left. He could probably hear her heart suddenly beating way too fast.
“We had a movie filmed at our castle a few years back, but that’s it.” Heather placed their order with Rush stamped on it. She’d never used the stamp before, but this was certainly one of those times it came in handy.
“Not that film. A new one. More of a…fantasy,” Patrick said, “featuring wolves, even.”
“At the MacNeills’ castle? No,” she said, shaking her head. She wasn’t lying. Ian MacNeill swore they would never have another film shot at their castle. At the time they’d been in dire straits financially, and the only way to keep the castle solvent was to do the film. Wolf packs had to keep their identity secret. Having tons of nonwolves traipsing through Argent Castle and the grounds could be problematic. Her pack had had to send a couple of newly turned wolves to stay with the MacQuarries, just so the human cast and crew wouldn’t have the surprise of seeing the newbies shift during the full moon.
Several female members of her wolf pack would really love a chance to playact in another film though. Heather was waiting on a call from Colleen MacQuarrie, confirming how many would get a chance to be in the new film being shot at the MacQuarries’ Farraige Castle. Heather sure was excited to take part too. Maybe she’d even get to see Enrick fighting in good form on the battlefield.
A few minutes later, one of the other MacNeill women brought out two steak and kidney pies in a box. Heather thanked her and began ringing up the sale, wanting to get the brothers out of there quickly without making it appear she was trying to rush them out of the shop. Her alpha leaders had talked with Enrick’s pack leaders about having the movie filmed at Farraige Castle because the MacQuarries would need the MacNeills to send reinforcements for the battle scenes and others shot around the keep. But it was all hush-hush so she didn’t know if Enrick was aware of that yet. And Robert and Patrick could very well have served as a couple of the extras who got into a fight with her people during the earlier film and were looking to stir up trouble again.
“I think you know,” Robert said, glancing over his shoulder at Enrick, finally noticing she had a wolf warrior watching over things, standing off to the side, arms folded across his chest. She just hoped they wouldn’t fight!
Stiffening a little, Robert sneered at Enrick who didn’t move a muscle, just stared him and his brother down in a wolf-to-wolf confrontation like he was ready for the fight, come and get it. They didn’t need whiskey to make them cantankerous. All they needed was their clan pride and, in this case, their wolf-pack pride too. The battle between the clans had been going on forever. Stealing cattle, horses, brides, land; fighting for more power since the beginning. The quest for more land and power was always an ongoing condition.
As soon as she finished up at the shop, Heather was in fact meeting with the MacQuarrie leaders and Grant’s two brothers, Enrick and Lachlan, so she wouldn’t have to keep the news secret about the film too much longer, and she was glad about that.
Robert paid for the pies. “We know the film is being set in Scotland at one of the castles. You better not have lied to us,” Robert said, while Patrick grabbed the box with a jerk. And then the two stalked out the door.
At least they hadn’t fought with Enrick, and they did buy something. Miracles did happen sometimes.
“Hi, Enrick, did you need something?” she asked, relieved beyond words that the men had left without causing any real issues.
“Are you okay?” Enrick asked, looking genuinely concerned.
Chapter 2
Enrick had seen everything that had gone on, so Heather knew he didn’t believe the Kilpatrick brothers had done anything to her. She figured he was more worried about how she felt concerning Timothy, the man she was to mate, and dealing face-to-face with his killer today. Yet Enrick couldn’t seem to just come out and say so.
Though she had loved Timothy’s wild manner and decisiveness, he couldn’t or wouldn’t control that darker wolf side of him that was always ready to battle the enemy wolf clans, no matter who else the fight might hurt or if it was even called for. The pack leaders had met after the killing and determined Timothy had been at fault, but that didn’t lessen the hurt Heather had felt at losing him. It did make her angry with him for starting the physical fight and getting himself killed though.
She tried to tell herself it was better she hadn’t mated a wolf who was so reckless that he might have left her to raise a couple of kids on her own at some point later in their lives. She appreciated Enrick asking how she was feeling. He might be as growly as all the other wolves combined, but he knew when to fight and when to leave it for another day. He never drank too much, so he always had a clear head, unlike Timothy. She’d loved him, sure, but he’d had his faults. Enrick did too. Everyone did. So it wasn’t like she would ever end up with Mr. Perfect Wolf, nor did she want that.
No one had shown any interest in courting her after Timothy died. It had happened two years ago, and she felt as though she was being judged for his actions, that selecting him for her mate said the same about her. She’d considered leaving Scotland and going somewhere else, hating to live with the stigma of what he’d done, though everyone said she was not to blame.
But she couldn’t leave her friends and family behind. Argent Castle was her home—always had been and always would be. She felt connected to it, to her family, and she would never leave. Without it, she would be less than whole.
Patrick had said something derogatory about what he’d do with Heather if she was his mate, and that had set Timothy off. So yes, Patrick had started the fight with words, but he had defended himself with a sgian dubh knife because otherwise Timothy would have beaten him to death. Two of the MacQuarrie men had tried to pull Timothy off Patrick, but when Timothy was like that, he was like an old Norse berserker on steroids. After the beating Timothy had given him, Patrick had a crooked nose. Instead of setting it, he left it, thinking it showed his prowess to the lassies. Jerk.
Heather wished none of it had ever happened. Words were just words. Ending someone’s life, miserable as it was, was something else.
“I’m fine.” She shrugged. “They didn’t do anything or say anything hurtful.”
“I was just…making sure.” Enrick frowned. “So, a movie is being filmed at your castle again? I thought Ian would never agree to that.” Enrick studied her expression, breathing in her scent. It wasn’t that he was trying to catch her in a lie; it was just a natural condition of being a part-time wolf.
Heather was sure she was giving him a ton of mixed messages—concern, anxiousness, relief—and he wouldn’t know it wasn’
t just because of the Kilpatricks having been there. “Uh, I’m sure Ian wouldn’t agree to that after the last time. So what did you come in for?”
Enrick looked at the sign featuring the variety of savory meat pies and bridies—Scottish hot pockets smothered in brown sauce—as well as soups, burgers, and baguettes.
“I’ll get the Scotch pie. You know how my pack leader is. Colleen has wanted to try it—beans and chips, smothered in brown sauce. She has been talking about the pies ever since she heard about them, and no one has made them at the castle since she has been there. Since I happened to be in the area…”
Right. He just happened to be in the area, checking up on Heather for her brothers since she might suspect someone from her own clan of doing the same thing.
“Good choice. It’s fresh out of the oven.” She sent the order back with a note it was for Enrick MacQuarrie, and a couple of minutes later, one of the MacNeill ladies brought it out boxed up for him, all smiles. All the ladies were interested in the two unmated MacQuarrie brothers, so Heather wasn’t surprised, even though she hadn’t put a Rush stamp on the order.
Enrick smiled at the lady and she smiled back, blushing furiously, then headed back into the kitchen.
“I’m surprised to see you in here,” Heather said.
“I was surprised to see the Kilpatricks in here.”
“So you came in to protect me.”
“If I hadn’t, Colleen would have had my head.”
“Thank you.”
Enrick paid for the pie but hesitated to leave. “Are you sure a sequel to the film isn’t being made at Argent Castle? After the film came out, the reviewers said the scenery and costuming and battle scenes were better than anything they’d ever seen. I always suspected another movie would be filmed there, maybe not a sequel but another Highland period piece. Or at least they’d try to convince Ian to use his castle for another film.”