Page 174 of First Light

Duncan raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to spend a night or two? I’m sure Cadell could make himself scarce.”

Carys felt her cheeks warm. Duncan wasn’t acting like a cross human anymore. None of his rough edges had worn off, so maybe she was just getting used to him.

“I think we better get back to Scotland,” she said. “I don’t even want to think about my email inbox.”

“The fae gate it is.” Duncan hoisted his pack over his shoulder again and held his hand out. “Back to home.”

“Whatever that means anymore,” Carys whispered.

The corner of Duncan’s mouth inched up. “You’ll figure that out, Carys Morgan. I have faith.”

They started walking down the path leading to the fae forest, and Carys didn’t look back.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Carys stood in the shadow of the trees, staring at the dried hawthorn branch and its bright red berries. She reached into her pocket and grabbed an acorn, then knelt down and dug into the ground at the edge of the meadow and planted the acorn, marking the spot with the hawthorn branch.

“You never know.” Cadell looked down at the stick. “It could grow.”

She stood and brushed off her hands. “Why not?”

“Why not indeed.” Cadell stared through the trees. “I love them.”

“The trees?”

His head craned back as he looked up and up and up. “The redwoods.”

Carys smiled and looked at the giant who had learned to wear flannel instead of leather armor. “There’s finally a tree proportional to your height, dude.”

He growled. “For the love of all fire gods, stop calling me that.”

Carys grinned. “You’re in California now. You must learn to speak dude.”

“I do not.” He turned and walked toward the shed, which he had taken over.

In the weeks since her return from Scotland, Cadell had managed to settle in well enough, though he was still searching the forest behind the house every day for the fae gate, which seemed to be hiding.

Cadell was standing in the middle of the meadow, his face turned to the sky as the sun broke through the clouds. “Have you talked to either of your suitors today?”

Carys sighed. “Please stop calling them that.”

“There are two men vying for your romantic affections. What is the correct terminology in the Brightlands for this situation?”

“A pain in the ass.”

“I don’t think that is correct.”

Duncan texted her every few days, mostly sending her pictures of truly adorable cows, things he was working on at the smithworks, or occasionally a very bad selfie. Once, he’d called, but he was so awkward on the phone she told him that texting was fine, and she could tell he was relieved.

She invited him to California for a visit. To see Cadell, of course. He was looking at his calendar.

Lachlan was more complicated. Somehow he managed to send her letters nearly every day, delivered to her door with no return address, no envelope, and no sign of how they were being delivered, sealed with wax and often including flowers.

They were gorgeous love letters that included poetry that made her toes curl, and she had no way of responding.

“I’m going to have to figure that whole thing out eventually, aren’t I?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Cadell stared at the trees. “You don’t owe them anything.”