“Oh, nay. I’d never call ye that,” she assured him quickly, and then grimaced and admitted honestly, “Well, mayhap I would if ye were being one and I was really annoyed. Though I’d be more like to just think it rather than actually say it.”
For some reason that admission had his lips twitching, and Conall closed the distance between them.
Lovey immediately straightened next to her, his ears pulling back as he squinted at him, and then going straight up when Conall continued forward. When he then bared his teeth and growled low in his throat, Claray tightened her fingers in the fur at the back of his neck in warning, then turned to bare her teeth and growl at the wolf in return.
Lovey didn’t look happy, but he did relax a little. Though she noticed he stood a little taller, puffed out his chest and went back to squinting suspiciously at Conall too.
“Wife?”
Claray turned to him in question. “Aye, husband?”
“Ye just growled at the wolf,” he pointed out.
“Aye,” she agreed, and smiled at him. “’Tis what he understands.”
“I see,” he said, but didn’t look like he did and then asked, “Where’s Squeak?”
Eyes widening as she recalled the baby stoat, Claray glanced down at her top, concerned that he might have been hurt when she was tussling with Lovey. A gasp slid from her lips when she tugged the material of the gray gown she’d donned that morning away from her chest and found the spot where he usually settled empty.
“Oh, no! I—Oh,” Claray said as she glanced around wildly and spotted the baby stoat sitting on Stubborn Bastard’s saddle. Moving along the horse, she reached up and scooped the small stoat off the saddle, muttering, “He must have climbed out while I was dismountin’.”
She turned toward Conall with the stoat, to show him he was all right, but froze when Lovey was suddenly there nudging her hand as he sniffed the wee creature. Squeak had started to chitter and squeak at her the moment she’d picked him up, but froze now to eye the wolf with a decidedly wary air. Knowing her emotions would affect the wolf and his reactions, she forced herself to take a deep calming breath, and simply let him sniff. She relaxed fully though when the wolf’s tongue whipped out to lash the wee creature, who immediately commenced to tremble in her hands.
“’Tis all right, Squeak,” she murmured with a grin as she tucked him quickly back into the top of her gown. “That was just a welcoming lick.”
“That or he was testing to see if he’d taste good,” Conall suggested.
Claray shook her head at his teasing, and then gasped when he caught her at the waist and lifted her off the ground to kiss her. She thought she heard Lovey growl again, but ignored it and melted against Conall until he broke the kiss and eased her away, then lifted her onto Stubborn Bastard’s back. A small sigh slid from her lips then, and she absently patted a squirming Squeak through her gown to calm him as she watched Conall gather Stubborn Bastard’s reins for her.
“Will yer wolf make it to Deagh Fhortan on his own, or should I send him back to be brought out on a wagon in a cage with the other beasts and goods?” he asked as he held the reins up to her.
The dreamy expression that had been softening her face since he’d kissed her was immediately plowed under by a scowl. “Lovey’s never been in a cage. I’d no’ do that to him. He’s a wild creature.”
The look Conall gave her then was dubious. “Wild, eh?”
“Aye,” she assured him. “A wolf is no’ like a dog, husband. Ye can no’ tame them. No’ really.”
He grunted at that, and asked, “But has he the stamina to make it to MacDonald on his own?”
“Oh, aye. Do no’ worry. He’ll most like run beside Stubborn Bastard most o’ the way there. They’re friends.”
“Friends,” he echoed with disbelief, and shook his head before walking back to where his horse waited by the other men.
Claray watched him go and then glanced down at Lovey. The wolf was watching Conall with an expression she couldn’t decipher. Sighing, she clucked her tongue to get the wolf’s attention, and when he looked her way, she warned, “Ye’d best get used to him, Lovey. He’s me husband now.” When the wolf just stared at her, she tilted her head and murmured, “We should find you a mate.”
“Wife!”
Glancing over, she saw that Conall was mounted and waiting impatiently. Claray urged Stubborn Bastard in his direction, patting at her hip as she did to gesture for Lovey to follow.
“Where did you come across Lovey?”
Conall heard the question from Lady MacKay, and found himself slowing his mount a bit in a bid to hear his wife’s answer. It was something he’d wondered himself, but with three hundred warriors, the MacKays and Roderick waiting, there hadn’t been time for him to ask everything he wanted to know.
“Oh, well, the villagers killed his pack when he was a pup. They were attacking livestock,” she explained sadly. “Anyway, the next day, I was out for a ride and heard him cryin’, or tryin’ to howl, I suppose. It was the sweetest thing. It turned out I was ridin’ right past their den. There were five of them altogether, and he was smaller than the rest, the runt of the litter, yet the only one still alive.”
“He was the runt?” Lady MacKay sounded shocked, and Conall couldn’t blame her. He’d never seen a wolf as big as Claray’s Lovey.
“Aye,” Claray said on a laugh. “Hard to believe now, is it no’? He’s grown quite a bit this last two years. I think ’tis all the good food he gets.”
“Hmm,” Lady MacKay murmured, and after a moment said, “So ye took him home and raised him?”
“Aye.”
“And yer da did no’ mind?” Kenna now asked, sounding curious as she joined the conversation.
“Nay. He’s used to it. I fear I’m always bringing stray or lame beasties home and nursing ’em back to health. They seem to find me wherever I go, and I’ve no’ the heart to leave them to be prey fer others.”
A moment of silence followed, and then Conall heard Kenna say, “Me mother used to work with animals in the stable at the convent she lived at before marrying Da.”
“Did ye?” Claray asked with interest.
“Aye,” his aunt answered. “Fortunately, I was able to take what I learned there and use it to help tend the injured and ailing animals and people at MacKay, so it worked out to my benefit.”
“Oh!” Kenna said with excitement. “Ye’ll probably be good at healin’ the people o’ MacDonald too, then, Claray!”
“She probably will,” his uncle said beside him, and Conall missed Claray’s response as he turned his attention to the man.
“Aye, but she probably has some trainin’ in mendin’ people as well,” Payton commented. “Most lasses learn things like that durin’ their trainin’, do they no’?”
Conall waited, curious to hear the answer. He had no idea what lasses learned when they were growing up. He’d always been out in the practice field training in battle before he’d earned his spurs, and then once he’d set out to hire out as a mercenary, the women he’d mostly encountered were camp followers and the occasional lady in passing as he met with lairds who wanted to hire him.