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Curses, would she ever understand men?
Winter reached under the counter and grabbed her sketch pad. She sat down on the stool, opened the pad, and stared at the two-story log and stone lodge she’d been sketching. But all she saw was a mama, papa, and baby bear snuggled up together inside the cozy little den Tom had carved.
No, she thought with a quick shake of her head, erasing the image from her mind. She was just learning to deal with her strong attraction to Matheson Gregor; she wasn’t anywhere near ready to start dreaming about having his babies—no matter how warm and fuzzy that made her feel.
Chapter Twelve
S itting opposite Grey beside the brightly burning hearth in the main living room of Gù Brath, Grace lifted her eyes from the book she’d been pretending to read to the clock on the mantel. It was twenty minutes to eight, and Grace knew her husband was also pretending to be so engrossed in his newspaper, one might think he’d forgotten all about his youngest daughter’s impending date.
“Ye still haven’t addressed the fact that Winter is going to live for centuries and her husband will not,” Grey softly said into the silence.
Grace looked over at him, not at all surprised he knew her thoughts, not after thirty-three years of marriage. “Would fifty years of happiness not be worth it, though?” she asked just as softly. “Or twenty years? Or even ten? Would you have Winter close her heart off completely?” Grace shut the book on her lap and leaned forward. “If I had died ten years ago, and you were sitting in this room right now with only your memories of me, would you be wishing instead that we’d never met? That we hadn’t had at least twenty-three wonderful years together?”
“Nay.”
“Then why would Winter be any different? Do you really believe she’s going to live hundreds of years without forming strong attachments? She can’t, Grey, because she feels things too deeply. Her heart will still get broken over and over again. Why do you think Daar keeps himself isolated up on the mountain? Is that what you want Winter to become? Another Father Daar?”
“Nay.”
Grace set her book on the floor and scooted down to settle between Grey’s knees. She cuddled against him and leaned her head on his pounding heart, sighing when he wrapped his strong arms around her. “And who knows,” she continued. “If Winter got rid of this Cùram jerk and saved Daar’s tree of life, there’s nothing to say she couldn’t live happily ever after.” She tilted her head back to look at Grey. “Even superheroes eventually retire. Women today are having their careers first and then their families. Winter can save the world and then have her babies.” Grace squeezed his rock-solid torso.
“The important thing is, she chooses her path. Not us, and not Father Daar.”
“It’s a path we haven’t even told her about yet,” Grey reminded her. “She needs to know before she gets too involved with Gregor.”
“No,” Grace said, straightening to look Grey level in the eyes. “We agreed to wait until we solve the mystery of the mutilated pine tree.”
He gently pulled her back against him and held her head to his chest. “Then remind me to get Robbie to look into Gregor’s background. I forgot to ask him today because I got involved in that damn tree.”
Grace bolted upright again. “No,” she said, giving him a fierce glare. “You and Robbie will not interfere. And tonight, when we meet Matt Gregor, you will be the epitome of politeness. You will not scowl or in any way try to intimidate him.”
Grey scowled now. “Gregor’s not much of a man if a little fatherly posturing is all it takes to scare him off.” Grey pulled her back against him, holding her head down with his chin and hugging her fiercely on a deep sigh. “Ye’d think I’d be better at this, having gone through it five times already.”
Grace was just snuggling closer when Grey suddenly stiffened and sucked in his breath. “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary,” he whispered. He removed himself from his wife’s arms and stood up. “Ye go right back upstairs and change,” he growled, pointing toward the living room door.
Grace scrambled to her feet and turned to see Winter and Megan standing in the doorway, Megan gri
“She’s not leaving here looking like that,” Grey snapped.
Grace ignored him, turning Winter back to face her. “The heels aren’t too high, are they?” she asked, checking out the shoes she had bought to match the calf-length dress. “They’re only an inch high.”
“They’re fine, Mama,” Winter said, ru
“Aye, and that’s the problem,” Grey returned from right behind Grace. “Ye look too modest.
And that is more enticing than if ye were wearing a bathing suit.” He waved a hand at his again-gaping daughter. “At least braid yer hair, so it doesn’t fall over yer shoulders so…so provocatively.”
Grace rolled her eyes at her daughters and burst into laughter as she spun to face her husband.
She was just giving him another poke in the chest, about ready to scold him, when the door knocker sounded. “Be good,” she said instead. She turned to capture Winter’s hand to keep her from answering the door. “Let your sister get it,” she commanded, pulling her into the living room while pushing Grey ahead of them. “My God, you’re acting like Winter’s sixteen,” she muttered, shoving her laughing daughter in the chair beside the hearth and Grey into the opposite chair. Grace then turned while smoothing down the front of her blouse, folded her hands at her waist, and plastered a welcoming smile on her face just as Megan stepped into the living room doorway with Matt Gregor.
Grace immediately went weak in the knees.
The man was utterly gorgeous. Definitely imposing. His eyes…they were…she couldn’t tear herself away from his fantastically golden eyes. Holy hell, she thought with a shiver, no wonder Winter was a mess of churning emotions. Grace was getting a bit emotional herself.
“Mama,” Megan said, leading Matt all the way into the room. “This is Matt Gregor. Matt, these are my parents, Grace and Greylen MacKeage.”
Grace was just getting her racing heart under control when Matt Gregor gave her a smile that stopped it completely. He inclined his head and held his hand out to her, and Grace found she couldn’t breathe. In thirty-three years of marriage she had never once reacted to another man this way, most likely because she’d never met a man who could even come close to rivaling Greylen MacKeage.
Until now. Grace placed her hand in Matt’s, immediately noticing how solid he felt. “Mr.
Gregor,” she said, praying she sounded normal, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. MacKeage,” he returned, his deep voice resonating with warmth.
“I can see where Winter and Megan get their beauty. And please, call me Matt.”
“Gregor,” Grey said, extending his right hand while gently pulling Grace away from their guest.
“I understand ye own Bear Mountain. Are ye pla
“Mr. MacKeage,” Matt said, shaking Grey’s hand. “I bought the land for my own use. I plan to build my home there.”
“It’s a rather long commute to New York City.”
Matt shrugged. “But worth it, I think,” was all he said as he leaned to the side to better see Winter standing behind Grace.
Grace was impressed with Winter’s restraint so far, and not at all surprised by Grey’s lack thereof. Her husband was looking at Matt as if he were a bug he was wanting to crush.