The Ranger (13 page)

The eldest boy dropped the bag on the ground and loosened the tie. He folded back the edge of the bag, revealing the skinniest, ugliest puppy Arthur had ever seen.

“He’s adorable!” Anna exclaimed, jumping from her horse before either Arthur or Robby could help her.

The boys gazed at her as if she were daft.

She kneeled down and scooped the pathetic-looking ball of matted gray-and-black fur in her arms. “The poor little thing is terrified.” She looked up to Arthur for sympathy. “Look how badly he’s shaking.”

Arthur could see right away that the young deerhound did not have long for this world. He was small and painfully thin. His mother had probably refused to feed him since he’d been born.

“The lads are saving the pup from a far worse death,” he said gently. “He won’t survive.”

Anna narrowed her eyes and pursed her mouth, giving him a glimpse of stubbornness that he suspected could be every bit as formidable as his own.

“I’ll take him.”

Her generous heart was preventing her from seeing reality. “How will you feed him?”

She lifted her chin, giving him a glare that chastised him for daring to talk about realities. “I’ll think of something.”

He heard the determination in her voice and knew she wouldn’t be dissuaded. For someone who looked as threatening as a kitten, she could certainly be stubborn.

“He’s not worth it, my lady,” one of the boys said. “He’ll never make a good hound. If you want a dog, you can have one of his brothers.”

As if he knew he’d found his champion, the pup burrowed his head into her arm. She shook her head and smiled. “I don’t want another one, I want
him.
”

I want him
. Her words resonated. Hell, for a second he’d almost envied a damned dog.

The lad shrugged as if to say
What can you do?
Clearly, he thought the lady was foolish, but she was the lord’s granddaughter so he wouldn’t argue with her.

Arthur took one look at her cooing gently to the dog in her arms and wanted to agree—mostly because he didn’t want to see her go through the frustration of trying to nurse the creature back to life—but he couldn’t.

A long time ago he’d been that runt.

Odd that he was even thinking about it. He never thought about the past. The struggles of his boyhood had made him the warrior he was today. He’d worked harder. Trained harder. Taken the abilities that had set him apart and honed them into something extraordinary. He’d forged his own destiny. He might not have been born a warrior, but he’d made himself one of the best.

It had been his focus for so long, he hadn’t thought of anything else.

But it hadn’t always been so.

Arthur watched her fuss over the small, pathetic creature in her arms and felt a stirring of ... something.

He turned harshly away, irritated by the twinges of sentiment provoked by the lass’s compassion. She was the enemy, he reminded himself. But it rang hollow even to his own ears.

Sir Arthur had retreated back into his shield of silence and indifference, but Anna was too busy trying to soothe the squirming ball of dark fur in her arms to notice. Well, perhaps she’d noticed, but she
was
busy. The pup seemed to have realized he’d escaped danger, and his terrified shaking had turned to whimpers of hunger.

They were only a few miles away from the castle when she asked to stop. She had to try to feed him; his pathetic little cries were tearing at her heart.

Though the sun would not set for at least a half hour, deep inside the thick forest that sat to the east of Dunstaffnage it was dark already. She didn’t like the forest at night and was suddenly grateful for Sir Arthur’s insistence on accompanying her.

He and Robby saw to the horses while she saw to her new charge. She’d wrapped the pup in the plaid she’d brought in case the summer evening drew chill and used it to make a little bed for him as she went about trying to fashion something for him to eat. Pulling off her thin leather glove and tying it at the wrist, she filled it with water from the stream. She wished she had milk, but water would have to do for now. Using a needle from her basket, she poked a hole in one of the fingertips. Then, after tearing a few pieces of bread from one of the rolls, she turned back to the pup.

Bollocks!
She muttered one of Alan’s favorite oaths. The little scamp had wandered off. Lying the glove and pieces of bread down in the blanket, she gazed around frantically.

There
. She smiled. He hadn’t wandered far, she could see him just beyond a big tree.

She called to him but he ran from her, obviously still frightened. His little paws scooted through the leaves and dirt like wooden pegs. But he was too weak to go far, and Anna caught up to him after a few minutes.

Scooping him up in her arms, she cradled him against her chest. “Naughty little boy,” she cooed. “I won’t hurt you. Don’t you want to eat?”

He licked the tip of her nose in answer, and she giggled.

“Then I’d better get you back.” She looked around, realizing that she’d gone farther than she thought. She hurried her step, anxious to return to the stream, trying not to notice that the shadows were growing darker and more menacing as the forest closed in around her.

Her heart jumped when Sir Arthur suddenly stepped out in front of her. Dear Lord, he’d come out of nowhere! She hadn’t heard a sound.

“Where the hell did you go?” he demanded.

Anna’s eyes widened. The coarse language even more than the glint in his eye surprised her. He looked concerned. Worried. Definitely
not
indifferent. It was the same way he’d looked when he’d caught her. She’d almost convinced herself that she’d been imagining it.

She nuzzled the puppy in her arms, planting a soft kiss on his head. “I put him down to get some food and he wandered off.”

To her surprise, he reached down and stroked the puppy under his chin. The unconscious gentleness made her heart catch.

His touch on her would be just as gentle, and the sharp pang of yearning that hit stunned her. She’d never craved a man’s touch before. But she wanted to feel those big battle-scarred, callused hands on her skin. Her face. Her neck. And ...

Her breasts.

Heat rose to her cheeks. Saints preserve her, where had that come from?

Their eyes caught, but she quickly looked away, fearing he would read her wanton thoughts.

“Next time let me know where you are going,” he said roughly. There was something tight and husky in his voice that she didn’t understand. “It isn’t safe—”

He stopped suddenly and stilled as if he’d heard something. Anna listened, but didn’t hear a sound. Indeed, it was oddly quiet.

She clutched his arm, instinctively moving closer to him. “What is it?”

“We need to get back to the horses. It’s the puppy.”

He pulled at his sword and tucked her against him. Despite the sudden hammering of her heart, she felt safe. Protected. And something else. He felt familiar.

“What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly, trying to keep up with him. “What do you mean, ‘It’s the puppy’?”

He didn’t answer her, but pushed her along faster. “Hurry, they’re coming.”

“What’s coming?” Her voice betrayed her fear. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Wolves.”

She gasped, looking around wildly. “I don’t see ...” She pulled the puppy closer to her chest. “I won’t leave him.”

He gave her an exasperated look. “I know.” But then he swore. He pushed her against a large tree, tore the dog from her arms, and then used his body as a shield in front of her. “Stay behind me,” he ordered. “If I tell you to run, do it.”

“I won’t—”

He gave her a fierce glare. “You will. I will do my best to save your dog, but I won’t let you be killed for him.”

Anna didn’t understand. How could he be so certain? She didn’t hear or see anything.

Then she heard it. The faintest sound of movement. Running. Coming toward them.

How had he known …?

The pack sprang out of the trees with bloodcurdling swiftness. Wolves were shy by nature and usually avoided humans.
It’s the puppy
. That’s what he’d meant. They wanted the puppy.

At first she thought there were a dozen of them, but when her mind cleared to finally enable her to count them, she could see it was only half that many.

“Robby?” she asked.

Sir Arthur shook his head. “I ordered him to stay with the horses.”

She sighed with relief. She didn’t want the young guardsman to unknowingly stumble on them and startle the wolves into attacking him.

Sir Arthur held his sword out, turning from side to side. The wolves snarled, fur standing on end, their eyes pinned to the puppy Sir Arthur had tucked under his arm. Was it her imagination, or did they look hungry?

They seemed to be sitting back, shrewdly assessing their opponent, trying to find his weakness and waiting for the right moment to spring. Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew Sir Arthur was doing the same.

The biggest wolf took a step forward, as if trying to draw Sir Arthur to him. He was, she realized. The other wolves had started to circle behind them. God, how smart they were. The wolf wanted Sir Arthur to move toward him and then the others would attack from the rear.

Instead, Sir Arthur held the puppy out by the scruff, daring the biggest wolf toward him.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“Hopefully getting rid of the leader. Be ready,” he warned.

When she didn’t respond, he looked at her. “Anna!”

She nodded quickly, not wanting him distracted. Sir Arthur had just turned back when the biggest wolf attacked, leaping through the air for the wriggling pup.

Sir Arthur moved faster than she would have thought possible. She’d never seen reflexes like that. Anna smothered a scream in her hands as he tucked the puppy out of harm’s way with one arm and sliced through the air with the other.

She turned her gaze after seeing the line of red appear across the wolf’s throat. A second later, she heard the thud of its body hit the ground. Without their leader, the wolves seemed to shrink back. Sir Arthur took a few steps forward, swinging the magnificent great sword back and forth in the air effortlessly, though because of the pup he was using only one hand. His right, she noticed. Not even his strong arm.

One more wolf ventured tentatively forward, but a hard hit by the side of the sword cured him of bravery. As quickly as they’d appeared, the wolves fled, disappearing into the darkness.

It had lasted no longer than a minute, but it had been the longest minute of her life. Arthur lowered his sword and turned back to her.

She didn’t know who moved first, but she was in the circle of his arms, pressed up against the hard shield of his chest. She burrowed her head for a moment—not unlike her puppy was doing in the other arm—and let the fear slide from her body.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up at him. His face was so still; the only sign of how affected he’d been was the heavy beat of his heart. She wanted to say she was fine, that she’d never felt more safe, but his mouth was so close that all she could think about was how much she wanted him to kiss her. How much she
needed
him to kiss her.

He was so handsome, with his dark, wavy brown hair and strange golden-amber eyes. She liked the dent in his chin and the slight crookedness of his nose where it had probably been broken. But it was his mouth, wide and undeniably sensual, that she could not look away from. It looked so soft, while the rest of him was so strong.

He was strong. And safe.

He made a harsh sound in his throat and pressed her closer to him. His gaze lowered to her mouth and she knew he was going to kiss her.

His hand fell to her face. The rough pads of his fingers cupped her chin. Her heart strummed like the strings of a harp. So incredibly gentle. Just like she’d imagined.

His eyes darkened with something hot that made her body flutter in naughty places. He was staring at her mouth as if he wanted to devour her. The sensations were so strong—so palpable—she could almost feel his mouth on hers. The soft caress of lips. Her stomach flipped. The heady taste of spice.

She was so convinced he was going to kiss her that when he released her instead, her legs wobbled.

He looked away for a moment, as if he were fighting some invisible battle, every inch of his body drawn up as tight as a bowstring.

Abruptly, he turned back to her, the heat in his eyes gone. He handed her back the puppy. “We need to get back.”

This time the remote indifference stung. Confused by the intensity of her body’s reaction, by her weakness, his control felt like a slap. He might want her, but he wasn’t going to act on his desire.

Desire
. That was what she was feeling. That was what had made her pulse race and her body heat when she thought he was going to kiss her. And that was the disappointment that was crashing through her now.

She squeezed the puppy in her arms and nuzzled his warm, furry head. At least
he
liked her.

Heat prickled her eyes, but she pushed it back angrily. The emotion was because of the wolves, she told herself. She was feeling vulnerable because of the attack—not because of his rejection.

She drew a deep breath, trying to get hold of her tangled emotions. Like him, she was determined to pretend as if that moment had never happened.

He’d come to her rescue once more, and she’d nearly forgotten to thank him. He tried to lead her away, but she stopped him. “Thank you,” she said.

He shrugged off her gratitude. “It was nothing.”

A modest knight? She didn’t think such a thing existed. But perhaps she should have guessed he’d be that way. He seemed determined not to draw attention to himself.

“I know you probably won’t believe me,” she said, “but I’m not usually this in need of rescue.”

One side of his mouth lifted. “This time it wasn’t you, it was him.” He pointed to the puppy in her arms.

“We were both fortunate to have you looking out for us. Our very own knight in shining armor.”

She was only teasing, but his expression returned to serious. “Don’t believe in faerie tales, Lady Anna. You’ll only be disappointed.”