Highlander's Love: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 3)

by Veronica Wilson

  “Men are pigs and I’m fed up with them.”

  “Men, honey, or just one man?”

  Aila looked into those wise green eyes before huffing out a sigh and sitting down. “Dagmar, to be specific. It doesn’t seem to matter what I say or do, he digs his heels in and is virtually immovable.”

  “Did it ever occur to you, darling that Dagmar is the way he is because you’re the way you are?”

  “What?”

  “Men, whether they like it or not, often change their behavior because of a woman. It could be that Dagmar acts the way he does toward you because he’s uncomfortable with how you make him feel.”

  “But we’re friends, we’ve always been friends. Even when we weren’t the only children here, we remained friends.”

  “Perhaps that’s the problem. Maybe you should try being more than friends.”

  “Or not being friends at all,” Aila said, a sadness pressing hard into her heart. Would a friend toss you out of his bed just to replace you with someone else less than a week later? Dagmar’s words came back to her: “I haven’t been with anyone since you and I… I know you saw Asgurda with me this morning, but I couldn’t… we didn’t do anything.”

  The hurt came back again, stinging her eyes and burning her heart so that she couldn’t speak. When Dragna knelt in front of her, her wise eyes full of empathy, Aila smiled with none of her heart in it. “Maybe you should take some time out to see just how you feel about Dagmar. Saying you’re just friends with your mouth doesn’t mean that your heart is listening.”

  “It hurts,” Aila said, tears brimming in her eyes. She gave a watery smile and wiped at her lashes to push back the tears.

  “It usually will, sweetie,” Dragna smiled. “Why, my Holden used to make me swoon at the drop of a hat. He could also rattle my cage like no one else ever could. I find that when a friendship changes to stages like that, there’s usually more to the story of how the two people involved truly feel about each other.”

  “Maybe,” Aila said. Standing up, Aila bent over and kissed Dragna’s freckle-covered cheek. “I’ll see you later?”

  “You can count on it. Can’t feed this horde without me.”

  Aila left the food tent with a chuckle in her throat, thankful that she’d stopped to talk to Dragna. The old cook was far wiser than Aila and never seemed to run out of patience or words of knowledge for anyone who needed them.

  ***

  Dagmar watched as Breslin took down a massive buck. They’d come upon a herd of red deer nearly as soon as their feet had hit the peninsula. So far, between the three of them, they’d be taking back three red deer at least. “Should I try to bargain for a cow or two?”

  “I wouldn’t complain if we had something to eat besides venison.” Bregnan smiled. “Maybe Aila would finally see that you can provide for our people.”

  Dagmar grimaced. “I doubt she’d see much of anything she doesn’t already want to see. Let’s take our largest deer and see if a farmer around here will trade us for an undressed cow if we agree to dress this one down for him.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Breslin said. They approached a farmer with a decent spread, the downed buck sitting easily on Dagmar’s shoulders.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Dagmar said, approaching the man slowly. “We were wondering, my friends and me, if you’d be willing to trade us one of your cows for this deer meat. We’d gladly dress it down for you, make sure it’s all ready for the winter.”

  The man looked at the three of them and grinned. “Sure, son. Where about are you from?”

  “Not too far from here, up near the North Sea. We often come here to hunt the red deer, but seeing as we have plenty, we thought maybe someone would trade us a nice cow for an already processed deer.”

  “Why, sure.” The man smiled. “Come over here with that deer. You fellas get him processed and I’ll gladly give you one of my three-year-old heifers.”

  “Could we possibly bargain for a pair?” Bregnan said, carrying his buck on his broad shoulders.

  “You mean a heifer and bull?”

  “If you’d be willing,” the younger man smiled.

  “Well,” the farmer said, scratching his full, thick beard. “I suppose if you’d be willing to give all three bucks I could let one of my pairs go. Do you want them slaughtered here or…”

  “Oh no,” Breslin smiled. “We’ll take them back with us as a breeding pair. My brother and I are to be married soon. Starting out with a breeding pair of viable cows would be ideal when our brides arrive.”

  “Alright then,” the older gentleman said. “You dress down all three bucks for me and I’ll give you a breeding pair of cows for you to start out with.”

  “Excellent,” Breslin and Bregnan said in unison. The older man laughed. “You’re the first twins I’ve seen in a long, long time. I suppose that bond never dims.”

  “No sir,” Breslin smiled. “I’d keep this lug head around no matter what happened to us.”

  “It’d be me who keeps you around, little brother.”

  “Little my ass,” Breslin said, punching Bregnan, not-so-lightly in the arm. “Barely an hour separates our births, big brother.”

  “An hour’s all it takes.” The men made quick work of the three bucks, separating them into large hunks of meat for the farmer. When they were done, they hung the pelts to dry and returned to him.

  “This pair has already produced a calf this year, but come spring, she’ll be ready to have another,” the old farmer said, shaking each man’s hand in turn. “You let me know how it turns out for you. If it doesn’t, I’ll give you another to replace her.”

  “Thank you,” Dagmar smiled. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “You as well,” he said with a smile. “Take those three pelts with you. I’ve enough clothing and, judging by you men, the people you care for might could use them more.”

  “Thank you.” Dagmar turned and led his two friends, each one leading a cow, to their boat.

  ***

  Aila braided her hair into an intricate knot and slid her body into her white tunic and white leggings. She slipped on her white ermine shoes and stood, wishing there was a way to see herself. Walking over to the food tent, she ignored the way the men eyed her. Their stares should have told her what she needed to know, but she couldn’t help asking, “How do I look, Dragna?”

  “Wow,” Dragna smiled. “You out to knock a certain man off his feet?”

  “More like plant a certain man on his ass.” Aila smiled. “Are they back yet?”

  “If they are, their hunt wasn’t successful.”

  “Hm,” Aila muttered. “I’ll go see for myself. Maybe I’ll have the pleasure of dragging him back here while ranting in his ear the whole way.”

  “A word of advice…”

  “Yes?” Aila turned to see Dragna.

  “Men who are uncomfortable with how they feel about a woman, their bark is usually worse than their bite. Dagmar is a different case altogether. His bite can hurt, so watch yourself.”

  “I know what I’m about with him,” Aila reassured the old cook.

  Aila went to see if the men had returned and sighed in relief when she saw the long boat docked near the pier. Turning, she headed for Dagmar’s tent and, without knocking, opened the flap and stepped in. The instant dark had her eyes working to adjust to the change in light, so she flicked her hand and had a flame dancing in midair.

  “You have a bad habit of sneaking up on me, Aila,” Dagmar said, a smile in his voice. “You look incredible. Nice flame.”

  “Believe it or not, I do have a knack for dressing up when I have a mind to.”

  “I like this mind,” Dagmar grinned, touching a hand to her face.

  Truth be told, she looked beyond incredible. She was downright gorgeous, and that edgy need she so easily stirred in him now, gripped his loins so tight it was hard to breathe. Blowing her off wasn’t a possibility anymore. Aila, his childhood friend, had blossomed into a stu
nning, headstrong woman who challenged him in ways he never expected.

  “We need to get to the tent.”

  “Dressing as you speak,” Dagmar grinned. “Although, as fetching as you are I could easily stop and help you out of your own clothes.”

  “I already told you that I’m not interested in sleeping with you, Dagmar,” Aila sighed, sounding tired. “I just want to settle this between us so we can all move on. I want to see our people hanging wreaths from their homes, stringing holly through the pathways. I haven’t heard one person singing any of our traditional songs and even the children aren’t excited. The Solstice is less than two weeks away.”

  “Do you think I’m unaware of that fact?”

  “No, I just wonder if you care,” Aila challenged, fury lacing her words.

  “What happened to us, Aila? Where’s the little girl who worked with me, who defied her own parents so that I could make the voyage with you?”

  “She came to realize that her friend was a womanizer,” Aila said, bitterness dripping from her voice. “And decided being friends with him was nearly an impossibility.”

  “Aila,” Dagmar said, his voice full of regret. “I’m not a womanizer, not anymore.”

  “Have a change of heart in the last twenty-four hours, did you? How convenient.”

  “Dammit, Aila! Must you always be sarcastic?”

  “It’s the most effective way to deal with you, so, yes.”

  “I have a mind to bend you over my knee and give you the paddling your parents weren’t able to.”

  “Try it and you’ll find the heel of my hand against your pompous nose, you bastard.”

  “Bastard, is it?” Dagmar said. He was quicker than Aila gave him credit for. His large hand had her wrist in a vice grip and, before she could protest, he’d yanked her closer, his oak-sized arm wrapping tightly around her waist. “Sometimes, Aila, you catch more bees with honey.”

  She knew the kiss was coming and met it full force. It swamped her with need before she could even come up for air. Electricity crackled between them as his lips moved roughly over her flesh, as if the need in him couldn’t be controlled. The rational part of her mind, the part that told her she didn’t want this, battled the way he made her body feel. “Stop,” she breathed. His hands continued to touch her, to ignite in her what only he could. “Dagmar, stop!” Pushing back from the fog, Aila conjured an invisible wall between them.

  Dagmar looked into copper eyes that flamed with frustration. “I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you again. You may find women like Asgurda more willing, but we have business to attend to.”

  “Business can wait,” Dagmar said. Taking a step closer to her, he didn’t even see her hand before it slapped across his cheek hard enough to make his eyes water. “Dammit, Aila!”

  “I’ll be at the tent with Dragna and everyone else. Join us when you can.”

  ***

  “Aila!” Dagmar roared. What was with that woman? Another minute and she would have trembled beneath his touch, and yet she told him she didn’t want him. She’d even slapped him, damn hard too. Sexual frustration ran hard and fast next to an affection that only Aila pulled from him. He had no doubt the woman would drive him mad, no matter what they decided between them about who should rule.

  Muttering about women and the end of his life, Dagmar dragged on his clothes and finally headed for the tent. He couldn’t explain this feeling, as if he was walking to the gallows, but that was the gist of it. He noted that most of the village had turned out, including Breslin and Bregnan. Asgurda was also in attendance, and on the arm of a man Dagmar knew well. Maybe she’d find with him what she obviously hadn’t found when they’d been together.

  “Welcome, everyone!” Dagmar heard Aila’s raised voice. Looking up, he found her on the stage, looking as stunning as she had just moments before. She seemed unfazed by what had happened between them, a fact that irritated him more than it would have even two weeks ago. Back then he’d enjoyed getting his childhood friend all fired up, but then he’d taken her to his bed. Now all he did was rile himself up with unceasing thoughts of her. He smelled the scent of her when he woke, heard her soft pleas in the night. Damn, he even saw her when she wasn’t around. The idea that he could so easily fall for her didn’t sit comfortably with him.

  “Dagmar and I want to thank you for taking time to consider who you’d like to have as ruler of Hail. We appreciate your opinions and concerns and hope that together we can forge a path forward. I, for one, would like to see us turn our tents into cabins with solid walls, chimneys and fireplaces, even cooking hearths for those of you who would like to stay home for a meal once in a while. Maybe we can finally send Dragna on a vacation that doesn’t include hunting to stay alive.”

  “We would greatly appreciate,” Dagmar interjected, stepping up next to Aila, “your ideas on how to settle this disagreement.”

  “We could split into two different villages!” came a loud voice from the back.

  “Aila and I have discussed this at length, and we know that splitting up is our absolute last hope. We’d like to avoid that altogether if we can.”

  “Why not get married and rule together?” Dragna said, a rueful smile on her face. Dagmar looked at Aila’s face and couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I think we’d like to make that our next to last resort,” Dagmar chuckled. “I might not survive the wedding night with that look on her face.” Everyone aside from Aila laughed. “Are there any other suggestions?”

  “We could take a vote,” someone suggested. Dagmar looked at Aila for confirmation and she softly shook her head.

  “Alright,” Dagmar agreed. “All in favor of having Aila rule Hail, raise your hand.” Dagmar counted the hands and got twenty-eight. “Those in favor of me ruling?” The number came out to twenty-eight as well, although Dagmar was sure some voted twice.

  “A vote does nothing if the numbers tie,” Aila said. “Should we recount?”

  “How about asking who among us wants you both to rule?” a man suggested.

  “Fine,” Aila said, barely hiding her irritation. “Which of you would like both Dagmar and I to rule?”

  Everyone’s hand shot up, making the count of seventy-three hands easily the winner. “I guess we know what Hail wants,” Dagmar chuckled.

  “I can’t do this,” Aila said, storming out of the meeting into the chilly night air.

  “Uh, thank you everyone for coming out tonight and making your wishes known. Aila and I will let everyone know what we’ve decided in a couple days.” Dagmar excused himself and chased after Aila. He checked her tent first and then headed for the clearing where she always went to think. When he didn’t find her there he thought about forming a search party, but knew Aila was smart enough not to wander too far away during the night. Remembering their rendezvous at the hot spring, Dagmar headed there next. He saw her white tunic and leggings laying out on a rock and grinned. Aila was as steady and predictable as anyone he’d ever known. It was one of the traits he appreciated in her. He was finding that he appreciated just about everything Aila brought to the table, save perhaps her occassional surly attitude. Still, given the option, she’d make hima breathtaking and lively mate. As he approached her, he found that the idea of joining with her in marriage wasn’t as distasteful as he’d once believed.

  “Aila?”

  She turned toward him, her face illuminated by the beautiful full moon. “I don’t want to talk about it right now Dagmar,” she said.

  “We don’t have to talk about anything. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “You know I can see through that, right? You’re not fine and I’m not a sucker.”

  She smiled at last, her gorgeous eyes lighting up. “I just don’t understand how no one can see it but me. We aren’t any more prepared to rule together than we are to get married, especially to each other.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Aila laughed. �
�Because we can’t stand each other, apparently. You almost always have sex on your mind, and I don’t want to rule next to a man who can’t put his own wants aside to take care of our people.”

  “You think I can’t put my needs, or wants second to what our people need?”

  “I think you struggle putting anything before what you want, Dagmar,” Aila sighed. “I love you. I’ve loved you since we were little, but working with you day in and day out isn’t possible. It certainly isn’t possible inside a marriage.”

  He couldn’t explain why, but the fact that Aila didn’t see him as marriageable material irked him. It was a humbling experience to find yourself overtaken by love for someone. The fact that he felt that way about Aila was a whole new level of humbling.

  “You’re right,” Dagmar said, stepping closer to the edge of the water. “I’ve been a selfish prick for most of the time we’ve known each other. I didn’t want the responsibility of caring for someone else, at least not intimately. I wanted the freedom to do whatever I wanted without having to worry about who I might be hurting. Then I had this incredible opportunity. I made love to a woman who’s been my friend for nearly as long as I can remember.”

  “Dagmar-“

  “Please, let me finish. The next day I tried to dismiss the way I felt. I invited Asgurda to my tent because I thought just maybe I could shake the feeling and kick free of it, then I couldn’t get into being with her and you came by. Even when you’re pissing me off I can’t seem to escape the way I feel about you, Aila.”

  Aila watched Dagmar as he stripped out of his leggings. Covered now only by a loincloth, he looked dangerously good. The kind of good that made her quiver with anticipation. The look in his eyes spoke to her heart, echoing exactly how she felt. The scary thing about all of it was that she still didn’t know if she could trust this man. He was a friend, but did she really want to open herself to him as anything more?

  “I get it, you know,” Aila said, her voice more confident than she felt. “I completely understand why you’d seek me out after that fiasco of a solution meeting.”

  “Can you?”

  “I think so,” Aila smiled. “I’m safe, have always been safe. You convince me to marry you, to rule with you and you get everything you want. I, on the other hand, get next to nothing that I want.”