Heather smiled at Calla. “I’m so glad you mated Guthrie. We’ll have to have a grand wedding.”
“Nay,” Calla said. “After what your pack had to do to help my parents and me out, I want something really simple. We can dress up. And that’s it. Someone in the pack can take pictures, and our honeymoon will be enjoying family here.”
She realized then that she would be spending Christmas with her new family. “Can…can my parents come to the Christmas celebration?”
Heather hugged her. “Aye, of course. They are family now too.”
Calla let out her breath. “This is all so new to me.”
“You’ll get used to it right away. If Guthrie ever gets to be a problem, you just tell me. I’ll let his mum know. End of trouble.”
Calla laughed.
They both sat down to wrap her fragile decorations—family pictures and other mementos—in paper, then tucked them into a box. It seemed so strange to be packing up her stuff like this and not needing her home any longer. Living in the castle was bound to be more fun, though—seeing everyone and having more people to bounce ideas off—and she really looked forward to another open house with crafts and games and a holiday bazaar like they’d had this year.
Heather smiled at her. “You’ve made everyone so happy. We all worried about Guthrie after his last breakup. I didn’t really care for the woman. But the two of you are just perfect for each other. I’ve never seen Guthrie so sure of this being the right move to make.”
“With the other woman, he thought she was the right one too, didn’t he?”
“As far as his ego went, aye. She fell all over him and, well, he thought if the woman adored him that much, they had to be right for each other.”
“Then she left him for her old boyfriend.”
“Aye, but before that, she started belittling him in front of others. We all like Guthrie. He’s a good man. She had no business putting him down like she did. She just made up stuff to complain about.”
“I didn’t know that,” Calla said, shocked. She shook her head.
“Then there you were. He was fighting with himself, trying so hard not to share the same space with you.”
“Because of the last girlfriend.”
“Aye. But then he couldn’t help himself where you were concerned. The two of you have a common interest in finances. Not everyone has a good head for numbers. And…well, any of us who were decorating the tree… When it was suddenly knocked over and Guthrie rescued you and you kissed him for such a gallant deed—we knew where it was headed.”
Calla chuckled. She hadn’t thought of it in either of those ways. Before she got to know Guthrie, she had assumed he was going to be the Scrooge of the family. She would never have guessed that she would end up planning an event like the holiday bazaar with him. And the kiss? Only an impulsive, exciting, and reckless bit of fun. Or so she’d thought at the time. She’d treasure that special moment with Guthrie forever. She could just imagine some of the MacNeill kin saying to the kids she and Guthrie would have someday, “Did you know that your mum and dad were caught kissing underneath the Christmas tree way before you were born?”
She smiled at the thought and wrapped another picture.
The back door suddenly creaked open. Both Calla and Heather looked in that direction, but they couldn’t see who was there, if anyone.
Calla couldn’t imagine why anyone was using the back door. The men had all left through the front door, and Guthrie had locked it on the way out. She had some patio furniture out back, but she had no plans to take any of it with her. She was going to leave it there for the prospective guests. Beyond that, trees lined another cobblestone drive that led to the back side of the property.
Concerned, Calla rose to her feet. Just as Baird came into view.
With a soft gasp, Heather jumped up and backed toward the front door.
“Don’t move,” Baird warned Heather with a threateningly deep voice.
“Go,” Calla said to Heather, her voice firm and angry as she continued to stare Baird down. He looked angry, tense, and determined. “This is between Baird and me. Heather has nothing to do with it.” Besides, she knew Heather would go for help.
As soon as Heather raced for the door, Baird went after her. Calla jumped him, knocking him against the wall. She held on to him in a tight body hug. He cursed her as he tried to peel her arms and legs off him.
In her panic, Heather struggled to get the door unlocked while Calla fought to keep Baird from going after her. She prayed Heather would manage to get out of the house before Baird could shove Calla aside and reach her. He finally managed to jerk Calla away from him, nearly making her fall. She regained her balance and tackled his whole body again before he managed another couple of steps toward the entryway.
Heather threw open the door and it banged against the wall. She sprinted outside.
Calla felt a tiny bit of relief, but she held on to Baird, afraid he might still be able to catch Heather before she got very far on the driveway. He finally shook loose of Calla, cursing up a storm. She jumped on his back as he headed for the door.
“What do you want? You got your money!” Calla yelled at Baird.
“I wanted you, damn it, Calla. Giving your parents that loan was to tie you to me in the first place. Your parents were indebted to me. You were always the good little daughter. When you wouldn’t agree to come back to me, I had to play that card. To save your family from financial ruin, you were supposed to return, beg me to take you in, and—” he said, struggling to get her off his back, but she held on as if her life depended on it. Which she was afraid it might.
“And then I was supposed to give you my savings? Sell my carriage house and hand you the profits? Turn over my income to you? My savings would have paid for the money you borrowed from your pack. When my parents paid off their debt to you, any repayment of the loan would have been your money and not your pack’s. Except for the commission your brothers and cousin would get from the deal. Isn’t that right?”
“The money would have been ours,” he corrected her, still attempting to reach the doorway and stop Heather.
Heather was screaming, yelling, trying to get the men’s attention as she ran for the manor house, her boots pounding on the cobblestone driveway.
“Nay. You would have controlled every aspect of it,” Calla said, still struggling. “Cearnach was right. Once a pirate, always a pirate. Your loan has been paid back, one hundred percent legally. You have no control over me or my parents.”