As they turned into the woods, she brushed her fingers over the amulet she wore, then tapped them to her pocket where she’d put a protection charm that morning.
She wouldn’t fear the woods, she told herself. She wouldn’t fear what came. And she wouldn’t fear living her life alone if that’s what destiny handed her.
Putting her guide’s smile on, she shifted in the saddle, glanced back at the family. “So, how are you enjoying your visit so far?”
* * *
A BUSY DAY MOVED QUICKLY, AND FOR THAT SHE WAS GRATEFUL. Knowing she did just exactly what she needed to do didn’t make it any easier to do it. She wanted to smile at Boyle, and see him flash her a grin in return. Wanted to feel entitled to touch him, just a hand to his, a hand on his arm, and have him feel entitled to do the same.
She wanted to be easy with him again. Even if they couldn’t be lovers, even if she had to find a way to snuff out the light of the love she felt for him, she wanted him in her life.
Needed him, she corrected as she cleaned up at the big stables after her lesson with Sarah. Until Cabhan was defeated, until what Sorcha had begun so long ago was finished, they all needed one another.
What they faced was so much bigger than a bruised heart and some scarred pride.
They’d find a way. If Branna and Fin could work together, she could certainly work with Boyle. It might take some time to find the right way, to smooth out the bumps—and they’d have to talk it out, she admitted.
But not yet. Too tender yet.
She hugged Alastar’s neck, pleased when he nuzzled her. “I’ve got you, don’t I? My guide, my friend, my partner. I’ve got family who cares about me, and understands me. And I’ve got a home, a place I belong. It’s more than I ever had before.”
She drew back, kissed his nose. “So no complaints, no pity parties. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She walked out, noted she timed it well when she spotted Connor strolling toward the stables, his whistled tune leading the way.
The perfect Irish picture, she thought, a good-looking man, all lanky limbs and wicked angel face, hands in the pockets of his rough work pants, and the brown path and green, green woods behind him.
“All done for the day then?” he called out.
“Just now. You?”
“Ready to walk my pretty cousin home, and see if our Branna baked any fresh biscuits today. I’ve a yen for some, and since according to our Branna we’re working tonight, I deserve them as well.”
“I’m ready for magick.” She wiggled her fingers. “And to learn something new.”
“New, is it?”
“Astral projection. I’m doing it in dreams, either on my own or manipulated by Cabhan, I don’t know for sure. But I don’t control it. I want to.”
“It’s a good arrow for your quiver. And so . . . how did it all go with Boyle today?”
“Maybe a little awkward and tense here and there, but we got through it. It should be easier going forward.”
“He’s feeling a right shit about the whole business.”
She would not feel pleased (maybe just a little). She would not feel sorry, or she’d ignore the sorry.
“He feels what he feels, that’s why we’re here. He’s your friend.” She gave Connor’s arm a quick rub. “He feels bad he hurt me. You feel bad that he feels bad. We all just have to get past it and not lose sight of what we have to do.”
“And you can do that?”
“I’ve had a disappointed heart before.” She said it lightly, had to, as it went so deep. “I think some of us are just destined not to connect that way.”
“But you don’t.” He took her hand in his, gave it a bolstering squeeze. “You don’t think that at all.”
“I think,” she said more carefully, “there’s something about me that makes it difficult for others to forge an intimate connection to.”