Authors: Claudy Conn
“Swit!” thundered Lord MacTorry at his back. “
Put down that gun.”
WITHIN THE CONFINES of the stagecoach, Exerilla’s breath came in ragged pants. Would the creep actually kill the very nice coachman? She couldn’t allow that. She just couldn’t. She got herself ready to call on her wand.
It would put her in danger of being found by her father, but she just had to do something.
She scanned her mind for a simple spell she could use instead. She came across something she could do to spook his horse and perhaps send him flying off and loosen his grip on the gun. She prepared herself.
Just then that she saw a huge, devastatingly handsome man astride a lovely dark bay gelding. He came into view and ordered the pistol wielding jerk to put down his gun. He was like a knight without the armor, but a knight all the same. He seemed to radiate with power as his voice thundered through he atmosphere and for a moment, Exerilla was struck dumb.
She waited for Swit to comply.
How could he not
? she thought. She didn’t have a gun, and didn’t know if he was ready to put his down, just at the sound of his Scottish and authorative voice.
Everything about the big man was attractive. The way he moved, the expression on his face, his black thick hair tied at the nape of his neck, the angle of his dark beaver top hat, and his eyes.
She suddenly saw his eyes and opened her own orbs wide. His eyes were a shade of blue, she was certain she had never seen before and they were filled with strength and something else she could not name. She got a whiff of magic and immediately scanned him, no, he was
not a warlock
yet, she sensed power. She wondered where it had come from. Surely it was her imagination and nothing more
. Holy Sweet Moly, this was one
hell of a male human
, she thought and her lips crooked into an appreciative smile.
She could see the man with the gun eyeing the blue-eyed hunk speculatively, but after a moment the gun-toting man said, “Right then, Scotsman, we shan’t kill our man today, but
I
will drive his stagecoach.”
Chewing her upper lip, she watched this jerk turn to the younger lanky man still on his horse, with a grin that made him look as insincere as she was sure he was. He actually chuckled and demanded, “Come, Jacob, we’ll allow the driver to move over and enjoy my company. Tell the silly fellow what good company I am.”
The man he called Jacob looked relieved, “If you are bent on this, give me your reins; I’ll put your horse up at the boot.”
Exerilla wondered if they had seen her. She continued to watch from the window without putting herself forward.
She heard the younger man say to the blue-eyed one, “That was close.
Zounds,
Hunter,” he continued, “you knew just how to handle Jerry.”
“Did I? Perhaps that is because there isn’t much there to handle.” the blue-eyed hunk answered, Exerilla considered him thoughtfully as she sighed. Apparently the stagecoach ride would no longer go comfortably down the road.
She continued to watch as best she could as the man called Jerry climbed up to the driver’s seat and ignored the coachman’s protests, and said to the blue-eyed hunk, “Well then, Hunter, do you mean to ride, or keep the lady within pleasurably amused?”
She closed her eyes. They had seen her; the man called Hunter rode up to her window and looked inside.
She couldn’t explain what happened next, but as their eyes met she felt an explosion of heat race through her veins and take on speed as it rushed to her brain and sucked out all the oxygen. Her brain turned into a mass of porridge. All thoughts were suspended as it experienced a ‘duh’ moment.
She felt as though she was falling into a well of never ending blue and she just wanted to keep on falling. It was warm, all-encompassing and full with promise, and she wanted to explore. She was bombarded by tiny little electric pinpricks, but they didn’t hurt, they simply made her feel alive.
Did he feel it? Was this all in her mind
? It was as though everything she was, her magic, her spirit, her chemistry had met and mingled with his. But that was silly. He wasn’t magic. She had scanned him,
no magic.
She decided that he couldn’t have felt what she did. He had broken free, apparently without effort and while she was still riveted in place.
He was gone, out of sight and she gave herself a shake.
What the heck is wrong with you, Xie girl?
Suddenly the carriage door swung wide open, startling her into a gasp. The blue-eyed stranger easily, nimbly made his way inside and planted himself beside her.
She wanted to speak. She told herself to say something,
anything
, but all she could do was sit there like a dummy and stare. She felt a fool and told herself she must look like one as well.
Exerilla opened her mouth and put up a finger
. Okay, that’s a start
, she told herself, but that was all she could manage, as her voice was still lost in her throat. She tried taking in all the facts and the facts appeared to be that he was in his late twenties, or early thirties, though he had a worldly ‘feel’ about him that gave him an ‘older façade’. Fact two, he took off his top hat and dropped it negligently on the opposite seat, allowing his black waves of hair to fall about his handsome face. Fact three, he appeared to be an aristocrat, a very well dressed and very masculine aristocrat, what she had heard someone say recently was ‘plump in the pocket’ or in her vernacular, just plain rich.
All of these facts got jumbled up in her brain when he smiled at her.
Something in her was already stumped. Thought patterns went zap and left her nerve endings gasping for life. Nothing was left of the inner material of her mind. During this assault in her head, she felt an absurd smile take over her face and was sure she looked like a complete idiot.
His blue eyes twinkled and he said, “A hearty good morning to ye, lass.”
His burr traveled through her almost empty brain and made mush with what was left.
“I don’t mean to intrude on ye, lass, but I did want to reassure ye and promise ye that we mean ye no harm.” He paused as though assimilating the fact that she was probably in shock before saying gently, “I thought ye wouldn’t mind a bit of company while m’friend has a go with the reins?”
“A go with the reins
?” she asked. She knew what this meant, but like the imbecile she was sure she must appear, she asked, “What, what do you mean, have a go with the reins?”
“Aye, I know, ye probably have never heard of such a thing. I must admit though, I have heard of a lad or two taking over a stagecoach for a lark. I did not think Swit…well, never mind. Ye’ll be quite safe.”
“But…but…why?” she asked suddenly finding her voice. “Why is he doing this? Why are
you
letting him do this?” She bolstered herself and although she had heard a squeak in her voice, she ignored it and attempted to regain the strong young woman she knew herself to be. However, the fact that she could feel her cheeks burning like a naïve teenager that did not help her situation. She was blushing and that was all she could think about.
What was he going to think of her
?
“Right it is and right ye are,” he answered seemingly unaware of her red cheeks, “but, short of putting a bullet in his heart, there is no stopping him at this moment,” he said with a shake of his handsome head. He smiled reassuring at her and she eyed him doubtfully.
“But what does he want with this coach? It doesn’t make sense,” Exerilla frowned.
“Aye, no sense at all, lass, but Jerry has it in his head to drive the coach, and means to do so.”
“Can he…er…drive this coach. I think the job takes skill and…he seems to be driving it a bit faster than it should go. Reckless, I call it.” Exerilla put her hands on the seat to steady herself.
“Aye, so it is lass, so it is, but I promise ye I won’t let ye come to any harm,” he answered soothingly.
The body of the coach creaked and seemed to object as X heard wheels scraping stone as the pace of the cumbersome coach took on speed. The vehicle had obviously never been designed to take the road at much more than a slow trot.
Exerilla’s brows were up as she chewed her lips when she was suddenly thrown as though she were no more than a satchel of feathers across to the long seat facing her. She caught herself, and pushed herself back into position she turned and grimaced as she said, “Oh yeah, nothing shall happen to me, you’ll make sure of that.
Yeah right
!” Her words were no sooner out when the coach lurched precariously around a bend in the road and as she landed in her companions lap. Once again, a spark shot through her. She was sure he must have felt the same thing, like static electricity, but he gave no sign of it. She glared disapprovingly at him and scrambled back onto her seat.
He regarded her oddly and said, “I am sorry, lass, but I am hoping he will tire of this soon enough and we can get on with our journey and let ye be.”
“If he doesn’t overturn us first,” she answered irritably.
He regarded her curiously and asked, “Are ye American then?”
“Born and bred,” she answered without thinking and then realized that even so, she was in another century.
Manners
, her mother had warned her,
you must watch your speech as well as your actions.
Yeah well, she didn’t think these guys were very mannerly, taking over a stagecoach at gunpoint just because they wanted to. She was about to tell him so while her mind went about the business of rebuilding itself when the coach swerved badly, tilted onto one side and came down hard on all four wheels as they took yet another turn in the road at a speed she was certain was going to exhaust the big cob horses.
Exerilla’s arms went out and a slight scream escaped her as she was thrown from her seat with some violence. She found herself caught and steadied by sure hands and was aware of a pair of muscular arms around her as the Scotsman balanced her more on his lap than not.
“There love,” he grinned playfully. “I’ve got ye, so doona worry yerself.”
“Thank you, but, I can manage from here,” she said as she tried to clamor out of his embrace and right herself while changing to take the seat across from him. Getting out of his arms and off his lap was more of a challenge during the bumpy ride than she had imagined and as she grunted and groaned, while his smile broadened.
“Och aye, but I think ye would do better to stay right where ye are,” he said softly.
“You could help me get resituated, you know,” she grimaced at him.
“Now why would I be wanting to do that, when I like ye right where ye are,” he said and his blue eyes were alight with mischief.
She eyed him and thought, he may not have magic, but he was way different than any of the men she knew from her century. She suppressed a smile and said, “Arrogant rogue! Is that what you call it, seeing that no harm comes to me?
Ha.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time someone has called Hunter MacTorry an arrogant rogue,” he said with a grin.
“Hunter MacTorry, I find your Scottish manners lacking. In addition to that you appear to be pleased to wear the title of rogue.” She managed to resituate herself in spite of him and turned her head away to stare without seeing out the window at the quickly passing countryside.
Her first week in the year 1815 had proved complicated and unsatisfactory. She was stuck in another century, without friends or family or even enough money to go off on her own and lease a place. How was she going to last until Samhain? If that wasn’t enough, now she was on a ‘joy ride’ against her will!
This is why women of this century went around slapping men.
And then as the coach swerved yet again, he caught her and held her close and safely in place.
She shoved at him, and righted herself back onto the seat across from him and glared. He surprised her then by crossing over and as he sat down beside her, he put a steadying arm around her and said, “Hold tight, lass, I think we are in for a bit of a ride, and I do believe what we have experienced will get worse before it gets better.”
“Let go of me! Did you hear me? Let go.” She didn’t know what was wrong with her or why she was behaving like this. She was so angry. She didn’t know why he didn’t just stop his friend, or knock him out or something.
“If I let go of ye, lass,
you will
get hurt. A gentleman would never allow that to happen.” He held her tighter.
The coach’s speed made its progress a rumbling ride. It created a swaying motion that sent it and them from side to side as it bumped over the badly rutted road. She admitted to herself that if he wasn’t holding her, she would have gotten tossed about. “Tell him to stop! This vehicle wasn’t made for this speed! You could stop him, so why don’t you? You are bigger than he is!”
“Here is the thing, lass,” he paused. “If I take matters in hand, he will be worse when he comes aboot. I doona wish him to coom after the coach, and I canna keep knocking him out without doing him serious damage, if that is what ye mean by I am bigger than he is. I doona want Swit in that sort of mood. Best to let the man have a go with the reins and be done with it.” Hunter had pinned himself against a corner of the coach with her nicely tucked into his embrace, and she could see the frown on his face. It occurred to her that he was actually trying to keep her safe while his friend drove the coach.