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A Highland Wolf Christmas

Page 19

   


Instantly, he thought of Margaret Finnegan—the redheaded human who was all sweetness and delight until he told her in no uncertain terms that he couldn’t marry her. He’d been clear about it from the start, but she’d had some notion she’d wear him down. She’d called him a stubborn old goat. She had part of it right. The goat part? Not even close.
Still, he’d made a mistake in seeing her for too long, and he paid for it when she’d convinced her father that Guthrie had gotten her pregnant and had to marry her. The problem with that tale was that rarely did a lupus garou impregnate a human. So he was all for the paternity test, until she finally told the truth—another guy was the father and he wasn’t marrying her, either. At least Guthrie was out of the picture on that one.
Calla cleared her throat and cast him a devious smile. “From your nonresponse, I take it you have made a mistake in liking someone. Or more than one person—as the case may be.”
She waited for him to share. He wasn’t about to.
“That wasn’t anything recent,” he said, wanting to talk about Calla’s situation with Baird. Guthrie’s former misgivings concerning disastrous female relationships weren’t important, as far as he was concerned.
“You know my story,” Calla finally said, as if that meant she should be privy to his.
“Nay, I don’t, lass. All I know is that you agreed to marry the guy and you finally came to your senses.”
“So who was she?” Calla asked, one brow raised. “How long ago was this? It sounds recent to me.”
He let out his breath in exasperation. Maybe, he thought, if he explained about Margaret, Calla would open up with him about Baird. He finally said, “Two years ago. She was human and returned to Ireland. I haven’t heard from her since.”
“That’s why our families tell us to limit our contact with humans,” Calla said, as if to remind him why he had gotten into the mess he did. As if she needed to.
“They also tell us to watch out for wolves who are not to be trusted,” he said.
Her gaze was steady on Guthrie. “Last year, when I returned to the Highlands, to this area, I was again without friends. Sure, I saw Cearnach. But I wanted to date and eventually find someone who would be my lifelong mate.” She threw out her paper towel, got a new one, and wetted it. “You really don’t like Baird, do you?”
“He’s a self-centered bastard, Calla. Didn’t Cearnach warn you that Baird would never have allowed you to have any friends if you had married him?” Guthrie didn’t know why it perturbed him so much that she would stick up for Baird, not after what he had done to Cearnach and Elaine. “Did Baird know you were Cearnach’s friend when you met him?”
Calla’s mouth tightened. She looked like she wanted to slug him. “You think the only reason Baird had any interest in me was because he wanted to keep me away from Cearnach?”
“Other than that you have an income, your family has money, and you are a single she-wolf…”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
Retreating a wee bit, Guthrie cleared his throat. “I’m just trying to consider all possibilities as to why he is so interested in you. What if it went deeper than just a chance meeting? Like he’d learned you were the same lass who had saved Cearnach in the river so many years ago and that you were friends.”
“He was infatuated with me, and it had nothing to do with my friendship with Cearnach,” she said so vehemently that Guthrie wondered if she thought otherwise but didn’t want to admit it.
“But he knew you were friends with my brother when you met Baird, aye?”
“I might have mentioned I knew him and your family.”
“In casual conversation, or had he come out and asked you?”
She glowered at Guthrie. “He said he remembered me. All right?”
“From when you had lived in the area before, when you were a child?”
“Aye, aye.”
“But you had never met him and didn’t remember him.”
“Nay. I was young back then. He was probably into doing guy things and really hadn’t noticed me all that much. I hadn’t noticed him.”
“Except that he had seen you and knew you were friends with Cearnach.”
“I didn’t know he and Cearnach hated each other. Baird acted like he knew him only because he was a wolf with a wolf pack living in the same area. We notice things like that, you know. Cearnach met me trying to fish at the river and then proceeded to teach me how to do it right. Then later, I met you and your brothers. I remember all of you smiling at us, but it was more of a case of the three of you being amused at Cearnach for visiting with a girl.”
“Cearnach always liked the girls,” Guthrie said.
“You didn’t?”
He let out his breath. “We thought he was interested in you as more than just a friend,” he said, avoiding her question.
“Seriously?”
“Aye.”
“Here I thought you were interested in me.”
Guthrie felt his face heat a bit. When she smiled, he didn’t know what to say. Oh, aye, he’d been interested in the lassie. All his brothers had. She was a bonny lass even back then. But neither he nor his brothers would have interfered when they thought Cearnach was hung up on her. Their cousin, Flynn, long since deceased, was another story. He didn’t care about such matters. So even though Guthrie and his brothers teased Cearnach about catching the lass’s eye, Guthrie had wished he had seen her first, talked to her first, shown her how to fish first. He was never the glib-tongued romantic that Cearnach was with the lassies. Guthrie still didn’t believe he would have captured her attention even back then.