Quarry the innocent on sacred ground
Hath suffer the sting of silver arrow,
And dwell as fair creature, woodland bound.
May cede the Glamour of faery sorrow
With dance of bliss on Samhain moon,
Wee bounty of milk and offer of curds,
The powers that be will find the way soon,
To pierce the veil betwixt the worlds.
~Sidhe Curse
THE COMMOTION THRASHED through the forest like a herd of large animals and advanced closer. Camp axe in hand, Carolyn Moyer stopped hammering tent stakes and squinted into the dimly lit woods. Whatever made all the noise continued to move toward her campsite.
She froze, prepared to defend her outdoor retreat if necessary. Her muscles ached after a day of physical work. She sucked in gallons of air and her breasts strained against the sweaty tank top. She had raced against the setting sun, unloaded her car, collected firewood and managed to set up her campsite before dark. As dusk settled around the mountainous forest, she wanted to enjoy her peaceful haven, not worry about the threat of an animal trying to raid her food supplies.
Mother Nature’s display of October foliage glowed red and gold as the last sliver of sun slipped behind the Appalachian Mountain range. A breeze chilled the perspiration on her skin and she shivered.
Carolyn glanced at her haphazardly arranged hearthstones and skimpy campfire and groaned. At least she’d had enough sense to gather firewood before she set up her tent, but her flashlight and lantern were still unpacked in her supplies. Had Brian been there, he would’ve berated her for getting to the campsite so late.
Within seconds the clatter escalated, but still she couldn’t get a glimpse of the animal. She waited, hoping it was a deer and not a bear. As the disturbance approached the dense evergreen trees, she gripped her axe, raised it to hip level and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine sap and dry leaves.
From behind a giant hemlock the tawny brown figure emerged, staggering and stumbling every few steps.
A deer. She exhaled, the tension in her muscles relaxed a bit. Relieved it wasn’t a bear, but concerned by the erratic, jerky movements, she knew that any sick or injured animal should be avoided. Carolyn stumbled over rocks as she stepped behind a tree. The deer reached the edge of her campsite and collapsed. A yellow arrow stuck out from its hind quarters, and a streak of blood trickled down its leg.
Her hand flew to her mouth, and a chill crept up her neck. Hunters in the area? No, poachers, if they were hunting in this state park and after dark.
The visitors’ center was miles down the road and had to be closed by now. And the thought of maneuvering her car down the partially washed-out fire road in the dark didn’t appeal to her. Her mind raced, trying to decide what to do.
Then another sound echoed through the woods. Heart pounding, she raised her camp axe a little higher and stood in the shadows behind the tree. A large albino buck appeared, displaying a rack of antlers so large she wondered how the animal held his head up.
Carolyn blinked and shook her head, wondering if she was dreaming. Deer were common in this area, but not snowy white ones.
The buck stood defiantly in front of the wounded deer and glowered at Carolyn. His hard, crystal-blue eyes shown with intelligence and anger through the twilight. Gripping the arrow in his teeth, he yanked it out of the deer.
“Ahhhh!” She pressed her fist to her mouth. Never had she heard of a deer doing such a thing.
The buck stared at her and she held her breath. He snorted, scraped the ground with one hoof, then dropped the arrow.
Afraid to move, Carolyn watched as he licked the wound and prodded the deer with his nose until the animal struggled to its feet, then sprinted off into the woods without a limp.
Gooseflesh prickled her neck and down her spine as the white buck walked toward her. Was he going to attack her? Those antlers could do some damage. She raised the camp axe, praying she wouldn’t have to use it. Then a man emerged from the woods with a bow and a quiver of arrows attached to the side of his weapon.
The white deer turned his head toward the man, then charged off in the opposite direction.
Carolyn let out a breath in a rush and sucked in more air. The deer was gone, but now she had to deal with a poacher. She’d never had this problem in all the years she’d camped with Brian.
“Hey, there! Did you see that albino buck?” the hunter asked, trying to catch his breath. “I’ve been hunting him for a long time. Very rare. Some trophy he’d make.”
“Don’t you know hunting is illegal here? This is a state park.” The fury was evident in her voice.
“I know where I am, lady. I shot a doe on legal ground and I’ve been tracking her for hours.”
“It’s getting too dark to track a deer. You expect to track her by moonlight?” She made sure he saw the axe by using it to point at the moon. Not quite full, the moon shone through bare tree branches.
“I hate to lose that doe. She’ll die now. Such a waste of meat,” the hunter said between wheezing breaths as he glanced at her axe.
“I don’t think she’ll die.” She pointed to the arrow on the ground.
He picked up the shaft, his eyes not leaving Carolyn. “Ain’t that the damnedest thing? There’s blood and hair on it. I know I got a good shot. Damn.” He kicked a stone. After taking a survey of her tent and campfire, he eyed her up and down. “You camping here alone?”
She clamped her jaw tight, trying not to let fear show on her face. She glanced at her car, parked too far away to run to. Her keys were in her tent. What could she do if this guy tried anything, start swinging the axe?
“No, the lass is not alone,” said a deep voice behind her with a thick Irish brogue.
She spun around and almost cried out. Stunned, she stared at the tall man, dark hair flowing to his shoulders. He looked quite handsome as he stood by her fire. Good looking or not, he came out of nowhere, and she had no idea who he was. Her campsite had too many uninvited guests. His compelling eyes crinkled at the corners, hinting humor, but his full mouth showed no signs of a smile. With all the confusion, Carolyn hadn’t heard him walk into her campsite.
“You’d best be heading home,” the man said to the hunter. His piercing gaze glittered in the firelight. He glared at the hunter as if daring him to argue.
The hunter nodded. “Just leaving. Sorry to disturb you folks.” He walked into the woods and disappeared into the darkness.
Carolyn stared at the newcomer and placed a hand on her chest, feeling her heart thump.
“I didn’t mean to be startling you, lass, but should you be out here all alone?”
She huffed. Just because he chased off the hunter didn’t mean she should trust him. “There’s nothing wrong with camping alone. Who are you? What are you doing here? I didn’t see any other campers set up around here.”
“Well now, as it happens, I live in the area and heard the commotion.”
“That hunter was tracking a deer, but it got away. Did you see the white buck?” Nervousness made her ramble. She only had to thank the guy for scaring off the hunter and he should get the hint to leave.
“Must have missed him.” He reached out his hand. “I’m Rory Donovan.”
When she accepted his hand, his unfathomable eyes somehow put her at ease and a slight wave of dizziness made her sway for a second. “Carolyn.”
Still trembling from the hunter and not wanting Rory to notice, she turned away, collected some dried branches and threw them on her fire.
Rory walked to the opposite side of the campfire and watched her as she arranged the smoldering logs. The flames blazed brighter illuminating his face. He looked to be in his early thirties.
The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows and suspenders, attached to brown trousers, stretched over his muscular chest. An odd outfit, but it suited him.
Although tall and broad in the shoulders, he didn’t seem threatening, and he had chased the hunter away. An unexpected sensual tingle threw her off guard. No question the guy was hot, probably meant no harm, but she didn’t know this guy and really should ask him to leave.
“You live nearby?” she asked.
“Just over that mound, not far from the Druid’s Circle.”
“I found the stone circle on my last camping trip. It’s like a mini Stonehenge. Do you know anything about it or how long it’s been there?”
“The site be at least eight hundred years old.”
“Eight? So much for Columbus discovering America,” she said sarcastically.
He didn’t argue, but stared at the moon for a moment, then stood and gazed into the campfire. “It be a magical place and guarded by the Sidhe.”
“She who?” she smiled. Did he think she was gullible or was he just teasing her?
“Sidhe.” He spelled the name. “It’s pronounced like ‘shee’. They’re beings of the Celtic otherworld, beyond the veil. They guard the sacred ground for the Druids.”
Right, she thought. He was teasing, telling campfire stories. He must be a guide for the park. She could play along. “And what do the Sidhe look like?”
“Only saw one. He be a wee man as tall as my knee with long white hair, clad in a cloak of green and wore a crown of gold.”
“Ah, sounds like an important little guy. Can’t say I’ve seen any Sidhe.” Or maybe he was crazy. So why was she mesmerized by a total stranger? Not like her at all.
“Glad to hear that.” He smiled slowly, and his eyes narrowed as if he wondered who teased whom? “You only see them if you desecrate their domain.”
The firelight flickering on his body made him look almost otherworldly. Something about campfire stories told at night always seemed spookier. And now she understood his point. “Domain. Right. Don’t worry, I always clean my campsite when I leave.”
Rory poked at her fire with a stick, rearranged her burning branches and added another log. Her back stiffened. Her fire burned just fine without him messing with it. The whole point of this trip was to prove she could camp alone without Brian, or any man for that matter. This was her test. If she could get through this week without driving herself crazy, she’d book that trip to Italy. There was no reason she couldn’t travel abroad alone.
The darkness of the forest walled her in. Suddenly the idea of spending the whole night alone made her uneasy. “It’s awfully dark. How will you find your way back? Do you need to borrow a flashlight?”
“Kind of you looking out for me, but I know these woods. They be my home for many years.”
Carolyn thought she noticed his eyes mist over for a moment. “Well, it’s a beautiful place to live. You’re very fortunate.”
He shot her a cold look and gave a bitter laugh, then ran a hand through his hair. He sighed. “Yes, ’tis a fine mountain. This time of year, especially.”
“Autumn is my favorite time too. I’m surprised there aren’t other campers or backpackers. Maybe closer toward the weekend they’ll come.” She was stalling. Crickets chirped a rhythmic song and echoed over her pounding heartbeat. She willed her breathing to slow and shook out her fists. Relax. In a few moments, Rory would go, and she would spend her first night alone. She could do this.
“I don’t expect that man to be bothering you again. I should leave you now,” Rory said.
“I was making some tea and roasting a couple franks for dinner and have plenty to share if you’d like to join me.” Coward, she scolded herself.
He walked over and stood close to her. Her gaze traveled down his straight nose to full, parted lips. Handsome in an outdoors rugged sense, clear blue eyes that could probably detect a field mouse a hundred yards away or read her thoughts. Rory was certainly amazing to look at. He smelled of wood smoke and an earthy scent that made Carolyn want to curl against his chest.
He glanced at the clear night sky. “Very kind of you. I’ve already eaten dinner, but a tea would be grand. You sure I’d not be putting you out now?”
“No, not at all.” Carolyn filled a pot with water from her jug in the cooler and set the pot over the fire, while Rory dragged a log over for a seat. When the water began to boil she steeped the tea in large tin cups.
“Do you take milk?”
Rory spun around, his face lit up. “You have milk?”
“Yes, a little. I brought a cooler.”
“By chance you have butter?” Rory sat and gazed at her cooler.
“Yes, for cooking. I like eggs for breakfast.”
“Cooking? You are not doing a ritual?”
“Ritual? What do you mean?”
“Milk and butter, bounty of the earth is used for rituals… Never mind. Some folks in this area do rituals.” He turned his back on her, facing the fire.
“Oh, I see.” She didn’t, but it sounded harmless. As long as they weren’t sacrificing animals or dropping acid it didn’t worry her. “I’m not keeping you from your family, am I?” she asked.
“No, I have no family.” He stared into the fire for long moments, then spoke without looking at her. “You not be married then?”
“No.” Her gaze shot to the stack of cards and photographs tied with a blue ribbon sitting on her cooler. Right after the divorce was final, Carolyn deleted every email, every text she’d ever received from Brian. But she hadn’t had the heart to throw away the Valentine’s Day and birthday cards he’d given her, all hand signed with words of love. Old photos also held memories she wasn’t ready to discard. But she knew she needed to destroy these too if she was going to move on with her life.
She’d planned to burn them this week. Maybe it was her own kind of ritual, a cleansing ritual. “I was married.”
“Ah, he died then.” He glanced at the stack of memories and frowned.
His assumption surprised her. “No, he found someone else. I’m divorced.”
“Your man was a fool. I was married once too. We emigrated here from Ireland, but my wife was ill and died on the trip over.”
“That’s very sad. I’m so sorry.” She wanted to ask how long ago his wife died but didn’t want him to dwell on the painful memory.
He took her hand, squeezed it then released it. He studied her for a moment. “It was a long time ago, lass.”
Heat rushed to her face. All through her body a thrumming teased at her most sensitive places. Not a big surprise that a simple touch of a man could stir such feelings when it had been almost a year since she’d been with anyone.
Uncertain of what to do with her hands, she gripped the log on either side of her legs, nails digging into the bark.
Rory stood and bent over to stir the glowing coals with a stick, then threw on another log, offering a nice view of his butt. She had to mash her lips together to keep from smiling. When he returned to the log and sat down again, his thigh brushed her hand.
Okay this was crazy. He was cute, but she didn’t know this guy, and she should ask him to leave. “Rory, thanks for chasing that hunter away, but it’s getting late and….”
Raising her gaze, she noticed him watching her.
“Yes?” he asked huskily.
She shivered more from the intensity of his gaze than the briskness of the evening. “What was I saying?” she asked. Her mind had gone blank, and she felt a little lightheaded. Even though she had just met this man, she might let him kiss her if he tried. Her body became fully aware of him. A breath caught in her chest as her nipples tingled and her sex throbbed.
He looked away and sipped his tea. “You were thanking me about the hunter and wanted to know about the Druid’s Circle.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Ripples of desire continued to flow through her body. What was she thinking? She knew nothing of this guy. It was like she was in a trance or something.
She needed to find safer ground to cool the heat in her veins. “Well, tell me more. I think I’ll go exploring there tomorrow.”
He jumped to his feet, spilling the tea in his cup. “No! Stay away from the Druid’s Circle.” His calm, friendly tone had suddenly turned demanding and cold.
“What are you talking about?” Carolyn snapped back.
“It’s sacred ground and it’s dangerous.” His tone sounded a bit calmer.
She studied metaphysics so was open-minded to esoteric beliefs, but to believe ancient ruins were dangerous because it was sacred was a little extreme. Changing the subject, she said, “Rory, it’s getting late. I’m going to have to call it a night.”
He nodded and handed her his mug. “I’m sorry I shouted, Carolyn. But the Druid’s Circle is dangerous. Let me explain.”