She sensed the confusion and weary relief in the animals. The pack loped off to the west, to the forest that their blood told them was where they belonged. To their home.
Liesel stroked Eric’s forehead. She had known him only one night. The longest night of the year, the night when families gather together and shelter against the darkness. She had found her home and her family, not in the ruined cellar of her childhood, but in this man.
She smiled gently and drifted to sleep.
* * *
In the morning, they gathered their sparse belongings and stepped out of the cellar into dazzling sunlight. Eric held Liesel’s elbow and helped her up the treacherously icy steps.
The body of the wolf was gone, though the tracks remained. Scanning the moors, he saw no sign of the living pack, either. “Are they gone, then?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Home,” Liesel answered simply.
Eric nodded. “Where will we go?”
“Home,” she answered again.
He looked at her bleakly, still holding her arm, gently, possessively. “I don’t know where that is.”
“It is wherever we are together.”
She saw the fear in his eyes, the doubt, but also the hope and the healing. “I dreamed…” he said in wonder, touching his scarred lips.
Liesel stood on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. “I know.”
He took a long, deep breath. “It has been such a long time,” he whispered. He leaned to kiss her again.
A winter breeze stirred a cloud of fluffy snowflakes around them. The hunter looked around again. Despite their new-found happiness, despite the sunshine, it was still deep winter. They had a long way to go to find shelter before the night came again. “North?” he suggested.
Liesel nodded happily and kissed him one more time before they started out.
A Winter’s Gift
by
Kim Rees
To Edwin
Siobhan Kerr awoke with a start, her heart pounding.
Was that a knock at the door? She ran a hand through her untidy hair and floundered to sit up on the ancient settee. However, she found the house silent. Great. Now, as well as being miserable, she must be hearing things.
Sighing, she collapsed back into the deep cushions. Hiding in the Gatehouse, her childhood home, had seemed like the best plan. Siobhan had skulked there for three days. The place never changed, that was its lure—its promise of keeping her safe.
The front room felt warm and bright. The smell of roses lingered, even in the depths of winter. Overlaying that, the scent of pine resin drifted from the large spruce standing in the corner. Silver tinsel and ornaments loosely decorated the thick branches of the Christmas tree. Some of the little trinkets and carved figures had been in her family for generations. Siobhan’s heart slowed as she glanced over the room’s smooth, white walls and the patterned rugs covering old tiles. She always bolted home when she screwed up her life.
Her fiasco with Mark? Just another in a long, long line.
A dying fire cracked and spat in the huge fireplace and, above it, the large plain mirror reflected the cabinet that held her mother’s best china and the myriad photographs of her family. She’d thought her wedding photograph would take its place in that cabinet. She was wrong.
Mark had presented her with her Christmas present a few days early this year—he left her for his ex.
“I love Annabel and she loves me, Siobhan. I never had that from you. Never. You couldn’t even say it.” His expression twisted and for a moment, she caught a flicker of regret. Guilt gnawed at her. “You need to look at yourself and wonder why you just crashed and burned with yet another man.”
His words still stabbed. She thought her and Mark had been okay, not exactly happy but…settled. Wincing, Siobhan scrubbed at her face. She wanted to sort out why she’d become so very bad at sharing her life with someone. She still had no clue—
“Yet another lazy day.”
Siobhan started, her heart hammering. It took her a second to realise that the tall, dark man wasn’t her former fiancé. Worse than that—this man owned the Bellingham Estate and the Gatehouse.
He leaned against the doorframe. She stared, her heart in her throat. He hadn’t changed. Not one bit. Her mouth kicked into gear. “Just barge in, Ethan, why don’t you!”
“Are you ever going to get dressed?” She watched Ethan Jacoby as he crossed the room. He dropped onto a faded armchair and smirked at her.
His gaze slid meaningfully down her body. The predatory glint to his eyes had her pulling at her pyjama shirt. His look had made her aware of the open buttons which exposed her tingling skin. Had he always made her this nervous? She couldn’t remember. She hadn’t seen him since Mark proposed.
Siobhan swallowed, her mouth unexpectedly dry. “Everyone’s out.” She drew her legs up onto the settee, needing to protect herself from the unexpected heat in his gaze. Then up went her usual barrier…sarcasm. “My parents have gone last minute shopping. Should have known you’d turn up, Ethan. Come to gloat?”
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, with a sly smile that had her teeth on edge, he asked, “Are you saying that we’re alone?”
Her heart missed a beat. What was wrong with her today? Through the years, Ethan had obviously decided that harassing her over her love life had become his favourite pastime. He always appeared when yet another relationship performed a spectacular nosedive. Unfortunately, she faced him as a problem when she did bolt for home. His being sinfully attractive didn’t help and the fact that he never followed through with his hot promises…
Where had that thought come from? She’d known Ethan forever. Her father worked for him as his Estate Manager, after all. Siobhan pushed the silly idea of an attraction to Ethan out of her head. That smacked of craziness. What had happened to her supposed grief for an almost two-year relationship and finding out why all of her relationships ended in disaster? She should be doing that…not contemplating another one. And this was Ethan. Her friend. She didn’t think of him that way.
Siobhan pulled in her scattering thoughts and ran a hand through her tangled hair again. “You came here for a reason?”
“It’s your birthday tomorrow.”
“I was aware of that.”
Ethan stared at his hands, rubbing his callused thumb over his palm. He looked up. “I’ll be busy and you’ll be with your family… So I thought we could do something now.”
“What sort of something?” Her stomach knotted. No doubt, yet another of his attempts to pull her thoughts out the mire. Sometimes it worked, but she didn’t want that now. She already felt stupidly fragile over failing with yet another man. And not just any man. Mark had been ‘the one’, the man she was supposed to marry. Wiping her hand over her face, she tried to ignore the rise of self-pity.
No, going with Ethan always came with a risk. He liked adrenalin-fuelled sports; his one attempt at a sedate activity had nearly scared her half to death. He’d taken her ballooning to help her forget the boyfriend before last. She remembered clinging to Ethan, his arms tight around her as the damn thing rose into a perfectly clear sky. She’d discovered the worst way to find out she hated heights. It had put…what-ever-his-name-was…completely out of her head, though.
Siobhan shook off the memory of Ethan’s strong arms. No, she trusted Ethan Jacoby as far as she could throw him. And that wouldn’t be far. Her gaze skirted his lean, powerful body, and she tried not to blush when he caught her perusal.
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Don’t you trust me to keep you safe, Siobhan?”
“No.”
He pulled her to her feet, smiling at the scowl on her face. The heat of his hands warmed her cold fingers. His thumbs rubbed idly, and the touch sent a prickle of fire under her skin. She swallowed.
“Dress warmly.” He pushed her toward the door. Already halfway up the stairs, she realised what she had done. Ethan stood in the passageway. “Siobhan,
if we don’t go out…we stay in.”
Her chest tightened and, for an insane moment, she wanted to believe the promise in his dark eyes. She knew better. Flirting—just something he did. “And that’s you teasing, Ethan.”
He padded towards her, and Siobhan’s heart thudded, her breath caught. She had never truly appreciated how beautiful he was before. Siobhan found her gaze fixed on his perfect lips and the need to taste him surged through her. Her hands tightened into fists. Mark dumping her had made her insane.
“I’m being nice in offering you a choice.” His perfect mouth quirked upwards. “Or should I follow you up these stairs?”
“You wouldn’t dare…” His sudden speed put her to flight, and she slammed and bolted the door behind her.
He sat down in front of the door, and she heard him laugh to himself. “Don’t be long, Siobhan.” His knuckles rapped against wood. “This thing is old.”
In her room, Siobhan ran her hand through her hair and cursed. The man was maddening. She pulled on her black jeans and woollen socks. What the hell is wrong with me? He’ll be his usual relentless, teasing self. And I’ve dropped into some sort of crazy world because I’m reacting, wanting— She cut off her own train of thought. Siobhan couldn’t dwell on what she wanted from Ethan. He was her friend. She would not screw up her relationship with him. It had become too important to her.
After dragging a black, polo-neck sweater over her head, she ran a swift brush through her blonde hair and caught it up in a ponytail. Still anxious, Siobhan shot back the bolt on the door. “Ready,” she said.
Ethan smiled. “You look prepared for war.”
She kept her voice even. “I have to be.”
“Siobhan,” he murmured, his warm fingers idly caressing the skin below her jaw. “Trust me.”
A blush burned up her face. Touching had never been a part of his arsenal before. Now he’d touched her twice. “Ethan, I—”
His gaze held her, and something sparked there that she couldn’t name. “How long are you home this time, Siobhan? You’re already breaking your record at three days.”
“Funny, Ethan.”
“Your mother said—”
“What?” She didn’t want to hear him rejoicing over another failed relationship. And her mother…she never could hold her tongue. Nerves put anger in Siobhan’s voice. “That Mark dumped me? Left me for his perfect woman, the lovely Annabel?” A sour smile tugged at her mouth. “Is that why you want to do something? Pity?”
Muscles worked in his jaw. “She said you’ve been sitting in your pyjamas for three days. She’s worried about you.”
So, the answer to the pity question was a resounding yes. Wonderful. A twinge of guilt tightened in her gut. Concerned, her mother had no doubt arm-twisted Ethan into taking her out. Christmas meant a busy time for the Estate. He had other priorities than trying to sort out her life. All right, for her mother, she would go. “Fine. So, where?”
“I think it should be a surprise.”
Siobhan stared after him as he padded back down the stairs. Her stomach ached, as if filled with lead. This was a mistake. A very big mistake.
She followed him down and found her boots. Her fingers were automatic in pulling them on and fastening the laces. She didn’t want to be aware of Ethan helping her on with her coat, but still, the slight brush of his fingertips against her shoulder had her insides twisting. This sudden awareness of Ethan disconcerted her.
Now, she’d agreed to go out with him. Yes, she’d turned more than stupid.
Siobhan locked up and followed him to the Land Rover. Their boots crunched through the thick snow. She climbed in, slammed the door and pulled the seat belt across. Her breath fogged in the biting-cold air. Hopefully, the surprise would be somewhere warm…and heavily populated. She needed the safety of other people.
“You’re quiet, Siobhan.” Ethan smiled, his face too handsome. His eyes shone and he turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling into life. “Still hate me?”
“Yes.”
His laughter was infectious and despite her best efforts, her mouth twitched upwards. “I can never win you over, can I, Siobhan?”
“I know you too well.”
The Land Rover pulled out of the short, snow-cleared drive. Ethan depressed a little gizmo and the gates at the end of the long drive began to swing inwards; the groaning audible even over the rattle of the engine. He drove forward, the gates clanged shut behind them, and he pulled away. “Yes, I think your mother is the only woman who’s known me longer.” His hands re-gripped the steering wheel. “And she has me wrapped around her little finger.”
Siobhan stopped herself from wincing. She was definitely on a pity trip. Turning her attention out of the window, she finally noticed where they were. “This is the Military Way
.” And they weren’t heading into Newcastle, with its promise of bars and restaurants. Siobhan’s palms began to sweat. She would be alone with him. If he planned to balloon again, she’d kick him. Hard.
“How long is it since you last came along this way?”
All right, polite conversation, she could do that. Just. “Over eight years.” The straight road stretched ahead of them, empty of traffic, the Land Rover speeding over the dips and hills. Fragments of Hadrian’s Wall jutted out of the snow. She stared out to an overcast sky. The weather reports promised more snow. “It really doesn’t seem to change,” she said, her voice soft.
Ethan pulled the car into a wide lay-by and climbed out. “Come on,” he said, pulling a rucksack off the back seat.
Where was he going? She did not want a bracing tramp through the snow. Siobhan stared along the deserted road. Not another soul around, the land white and silent. There was only her…and Ethan. She closed her eyes and willed herself to be calm, needing to ignore the excited heat that warmed her skin. He was just her friend. Annoying, maddening Ethan.
The one man she couldn’t risk losing.
Siobhan slipped out of her seat and stood looking out over the snow-thick landscape. The wind whipped cold, the air damp, and she dragged her collar high about her neck. She looked down in surprise as Ethan grabbed her gloved hand. “Where are we going?”
“Have you not been here before?”
“I don’t think so.”
He guided her through the gap in the wall and past the information board half-buried under inches of snow. Their boots tramped and crunched. “Careful,” Ethan said. “It gets muddy around here. The ground may not be frozen solid.”
Siobhan stared over the fenced-off hill that rose out of the whiteness. She winced. “We’re not going up there, are we?”
“Not today.”
Ethan stood before the remains of a small rectangular building. Pillars the same height as the reduced walls stretched forward to three large, uneven blocks. He waved her inside. “Recognise this place?”
“It’s the Temple of Mithras.” She walked towards the altar, the three uneven blocks, and wiped at the information board that sat beside them. It showed a restored drawing of the altar. “I have been here, but not since I was twelve.” She traced over the images. “Part of a school trip. Everyone thought it was boring. They wanted to get to Chesters to see the rude carving.”
“Naturally,” Ethan said with a smile.
“I loved the age of the place,” Siobhan murmured, brushing away the snow piled on the altar stones. “Priests were making sacrifices here almost two thousand years ago.” She stared up into the gloomy, cloud-thick sky. “It’s almost time to celebrate Mithras’ rebirth in the return of the sun.” She caught Ethan smiling at her. “What?”
“Only you could get all misty-eyed about a pile of old stones.”
Her eyes narrowed, but then she realised that for once he hadn’t mocked her. “You’re a horrible man.”
“The worst.” He cleared a heap of snow from one of the temple walls and leaned against it. “I brought food.” He opened the small rucksack he carried. “And coffee.” He waved the fla
sk at her. He poured out a steaming cup and handed it to Siobhan. “I did think of taking you ballooning...”
Siobhan wrinkled her nose, accepting the coffee. “Never again,” she said, sipping the rich brew, feeling its heat wash through her bones. “Never ever again.” She began to relax with the realisation that he hadn’t dragged her out to some silly sport that would have her nerves on edge. Mark had called her gutless for being so scared. He had never understood her. The white silence of the temple sank through to her soul, and a large piece of her past with Mark cracked away.
Siobhan felt lighter.
“But then I remembered this place.” Ethan stared around the ruin of stones. “The cheapest option.”
“Are you poor then, Ethan?”
He smirked at her. “No, just mean.” He turned his attention to the inside of the black bag. “That’s why the sandwiches are only ham and cheese.” He handed a foil-wrapped parcel to Siobhan. “Chocolate for dessert.”
Siobhan cleared the snow from the temple wall closest to her and put her coffee cup down. She stood beside Ethan staring out into the rolling whiteness, automatically pulling back the tin foil from the sandwiches. Their shoulders almost touched. Siobhan found the sensation disconcerting…and comforting. This was right. Something as peaceful as a clean, white landscape refreshed her soul. She found herself smiling. “I haven’t seen this much snow in seven years.”
“Doesn’t it snow in Liverpool?”
“Mainly, it’s windy.” She bit into the thick wedge of bread and chewed thoughtfully. “I used to make snow men as tall as you when I was little. Cleared most of the path and drive around the Gatehouse doing it.”
“Were you happy here?” His gaze turned sharp, and an undercurrent lurked in his question that she didn’t understand.
Dream by the Fire: Winter Magic Page 12