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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Ian Dare misses the alone time and intense sex life he and his wife shared before their children were born. What’s an alpha man to do? He kidnaps Riley for an erotic weekend away before the Christmas rush overwhelms them both.
Riley Dare adores her husband and his dominant and protective ways, and she’s excited to spend time with him minus distractions on a sexy retreat where anything goes … and spontaneity leads to future surprises.
A complete stand-alone for people who haven’t yet read Dare to Love but a special treat for those who want to revisit their favorite couple.
NOTE: This short story was already shared in Carly’s newsletter so if you subscribe you may have read it before but many have asked if they could have this on their e-reader.
AMONTH BEFORE Christmas, Riley Dare strode through the mall, taking in the holiday décor. The mistletoe, thick tinsel wrapped around every post and railing, the candy canes hanging from the ceiling and the Santa Claus at the far corner, all reminded her it was Christmas time. Having grown up in Florida, she didn’t need snow or cold weather to tell her it was the holidays. She’d take her seventy degree Miami weather any time.
She walked past Santa’s set up. The line for the jolly man stretched throughout the entire first floor filled with mothers and screaming kids. She was grateful she and Ian had brought their daughter, Rainey, and son, Jack, to meet Santa a few days ago, before the crazy lines began. Her four-year-old had taken one look at Saint Nick and screamed bloody murder. Needless to say, the photograph they’d taken hadn’t been the happy one they’d hoped for.
Today, she was alone and on a mission to buy gifts. It might be early but she had good reason to get a head start. She didn’t have much family, just her stepmom, Melissa. But Ian… when she’d married him she’d married a large, extended family.
Ian had four siblings – two brothers and two sisters – each of them married, two with kids. Ian also had two step brothers – one of which was married, and a step sister. And if that crazy amount of people wasn’t enough to keep up with and buy gifts for, his New York family was coming to town on Christmas day, including three cousins, all married, two of whom also had children. Was it any wonder she was laden with bags and gifts and utterly exhausted? But she loved everything about her life… except her daughter’s night terrors. Rainey woke them screaming most nights and though the pediatrician promised it would pass, waiting, worrying and suffering through the painful shrieks wasn’t easy and made her bleary eyed during the day. Not to mention her son wasn’t a great sleeper… and life wasn’t easy at the moment.
She could have done her shopping online but there was nothing like seeing something in person, touching it, and knowing you were choosing the perfect gift for each person. Besides, her mother in law loved to spend time with Rainey and Jack, so she’d freed Riley up to shop.
Oh! She’d forgotten her mother in law, Emma and her husband, Michael! Two more people to add to her list. She walked to the side of the aisle and dropped her bags close to the wall. She began to dig through her purse for her list. She hadn’t put it on her phone, preferring a handwritten page she could cross out and make changes on. She added the two names, shaking her head at her forgetfulness.
Before she could gather her bags again, her cell rang. She pulled it out of her purse and saw Ian’s name on the screen. “Hi,” she said, more breathlessly than she’d like.
“Hi, baby. How’s it going?”
She laughed, a wry sound escaping her lips. “My shopping list is growing. Are you sure your family isn’t getting bigger as we speak because it sure feels like it is.”
He laughed. “I told you to let my assistant handle the gifts.”
“And I told you that’s rude,” she chided.
“So? I don’t like how exhausted you sound.”
She smiled at his protective tone of voice. Over the years, he hadn’t mellowed and she understood the way he expressed his love. Ian could be… overbearing but he adored his family and felt it was his job to care for them all.
And she wanted to be the one who took care of him. It was just that lately, she was always so exhausted. Too tired for dinners out alone, too tired for her to cook his favorite meals, and too tired for sex… and that wasn’t like her… or them. Not at all. From the minute they’d met, the sexual attraction had been off the charts and he’d never hesitated to tell her exactly how much he wanted her, how he intended to take her, and follow through on every word. Those days felt like a long, long time ago not a few short years.
“Don’t worry. I’m almost finished for the day,” she said. Though her list was extensive and long, she’d been working her way through
it. But she was dragging more with each step and she didn’t want him overly concerned. She’d just have to make a final shopping trip another time.
“I’m leaving the office now. I’ll meet you at home,” he said. He was the owner of the Miami Thunder football team and his work never ended, but this was early for him to take off for the day.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“It’ll be better soon.”
She frowned at the cryptic answer. “Ian –”
“Love you, baby. See you in a few.” He disconnected the call before she could reply. “I love you too,” she muttered.
She gathered her bags up in her arms and decided she’d head home and meet her husband. She’d have to pick up Rainey and Jack from her mother in law’s, but she wanted to see Ian first.
A little while later, she walked into the house, having noticed his car parked in the garage. She dropped the bags on the mudroom floor and strode out through the kitchen.
“Ian?” she called out.
“Right here.” He stood in the center of the family room, a red scarf in his hand.
“What’s going on?” she asked, a spark of excitement shooting through her at the obvious silk garment he’d used on her before.
“Come here,” he said in a commanding voice she hadn’t heard in too long.
A full body tremor took hold. Her nipples puckered, as if even they remembered the times he’d use that voice right before pinning her to the wall, her hands above her head, his lips on hers, his hard cock pressing into the softness of her sex.
She stepped towards him. “Why is that out now?” she asked, pointing to the scarf, her physical awareness of what was obviously to come a tangible, exciting thing.
“Turn around.”
She swallowed and did as he asked. He wrapped the scarf around her eyes and tied it behind her head. “Now you’re mine.”
Her heat pounded hard in her chest. “I’ve always been yours,” she murmured. “What is going on?”
“You’ll see,” he said and before he could argue, he lifted her up and into his arms.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as he carried her through the house and outside into the warmer air. He placed her in a car, then settled in beside her.
So he was in the back too, she mused. They were obviously in a limousine, Ian’s favorite form of travel.
“I have to pick up the kids,” she reminded him.
“All taken care of.” He slid her skirt up her thigh and placed his hand on her bare skin. She shivered at his masculine touch.
With her sight gone, all she could do was focus on the things going on around her. The movement of the vehicle, headed heaven knew where, and her husband’s fingers moving upward, those talented fingers trailing their way north, until his roughened fingertip slid over her sex.
She sucked in a shuddering breath. “What are you doing?”
“What does it feel like?” he asked, chuckling, a low, pleased sound.
She swallowed hard. “Arousing me,” she whispered, hoping that the sound proof divider was up separating them from the driver of the limo. She trusted Ian enough to assume it was.
“You are definitely wet, baby. It’s been too long since you’ve come for me.” His fingers danced over her clit and she exhaled a low moan.
“Keep it up and we’ll be rectifying that very soon.” She wiggled her hips in an attempt to get him to continue.
But instead of increasing pressure, he slapped her lightly on her sex. “Gotta build up the tension first.”
She shivered in arousal and frustration as he removed his hand.
Throughout the remainder of the drive, his palm clamped hard on her thigh, a reminder of what she wanted… needed… and couldn’t have.
Yet. * * *
IAN DARE WAS a man of action. When he desired something, he took control and made it happen. So how had he let his personal life get so off track?
One little tyrannical mini-Riley and a baby, that’s how. His children occupied their every thought, action and plan they made. He adored his munchkins but he missed his wife.
Which was why he now led her, blindfolded, out of the limo and carefully up the stairs to his private jet. He kept one hand wrapped securely around her waist.
“Step,” he instructed her. “Step again.” He continued the process until she entered the main cabin.
Thank fuck this plane had a bedroom because after sliding his fingers over her damp pussy, he couldn’t wait to taste her, devour her, and make love to the woman he adored.
Once he had her onboard, he pulled off the blindfold. “Welcome. We’re going on vacation,” he told her. He’d managed to pull this together in the span of thirty minutes, calling in friends and favors.
She blinked as she focused on her surroundings, her pretty brown eyes opening wide. “Ian! What about the kids?” she asked.
“With my mother for the weekend.”
Concern etched her features. “But… the night terrors.”
He’d worried about the same thing. “Mom assured me she’s raised enough children to be able to handle them and the baby.” He folded his arms across his chest, not willing to give in on this argument. They needed time together and they needed it now.
“Okay,” she said, still obviously worried about her children. He was too but he trusted his mother.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I debated not telling you until we landed but you don’t look thrilled about this trip yet so I’ll fill you in. Turks and Caicos,” he said, naming the Caribbean island. “I rented a house from Lola Corbin and Rep Grissom,” he said of the famous singer and her Miami Thunder player husband.
Pleasure finally lit up Riley’s expressive face. “Ian!” She jumped into his arms and he caught her, falling back into the plush seats.
“I guess this means you’re happy?” He brushed her hair off her face, the tight grip on his chest easing.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, wriggling her sweet pussy against his hard erection. “It means I’ve missed you.” She pressed a kiss against his lips, warm and delicious and everything Riley. “I’ve missed us,” she whispered.
“Me too. And We’re going to spend this weekend catching up with each other and then we’re going to plan on alone times so we don’t lose one another ever again.” He rubbed his nose against hers and she sighed, obviously pleased.
That’s all he wanted. To keep this woman happy for the rest of her life.
“Excuse me, Mr. Dare? It’s time to take off,” the flight attendant said, interrupting them.
Ian kissed Riley once more before urging her up and off him, placing her in her own seat. “Seatbelts, baby. But once we’re in the air, that bedroom has our name on it.”
She grinned and buckled in. He did the same and soon the plane was taxiing down the runway.
He kept his hand on her thigh and waited until they were at a steady, safe altitude before he unhooked her seatbelt and carried her to the bedroom in the back of the plane.
“Get ready,” he instructed her, placing her down on the bed. “I’m going to let them know we don’t want to be disturbed, but then I’m all yours.” He stared at her flushed, eager face. “Or should I say you’re all mine?” He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her sweet curves.
Except when he returned from assuring their privacy, his wife was fast asleep. He sat by her side and stroked her cheek, for the first time, really seeing how exhausted she was. He frowned, knowing something had to change. She was stubborn and wanted to raise her family the old-fashioned way but he didn’t work so hard just so she could run herself ragged.
A plan formed in his mind as he let her rest, watching over her.
He’d let her rest for now. They’d have complete privacy and time to enjoy one another soon enough.
RILEY DIDN’T HAVE a chance to explore the rental house, which was completely gorgeous, from what she could see at a glance. The entire back wall showed off the infinity pool out back and the spectacular turquoise ocean beyond.
No sooner had they walked into the house than Ian pointed to the carry-on bag he’d put together for her. “Bikini. Now.”
And there was the bossy man she’d missed while they were busy living life.
“Yes, sir!” Riley gave him a sassy retort, feeling refreshed courtesy of her nap on board.
He swatted her ass with a nearby towel.
She jumped, squeaked, felt the sting of arousal travel through her and ran for the bedroom, rolling her carry on along with her. She had a hunch Ian had packed her very few pairs of panties and clothes. Which was just fine with her. She wouldn’t be needing them.
She opened her suitcase and pulled out a red bikini, Ian’s favorite that she wore when she sat out at the pool behind the house… or had before her second child. With her even more well developed curves, she hoped it fit now.
As she put it on, her breasts plumping out of the cups and her hips visible, she realized Ian wouldn’t care. And wasn’t she a lucky girl?
She strode into the other room, strutting a little because she knew he was waiting. She stopped short when she caught sight of him. Wearing a pair of boarding shorts, his tanned muscular body on display, her body perked up at the sight.
“See something you like?” he asked.
“That and something I haven’t seen… or paid attention to in too long.” She strode over to him and hooked her finger into the waistband of his shorts, running her fingers over his taut stomach. “I missed you,” she murmured.
A seductive grin lifted his sexy mouth. “I missed you too. And you look good enough to eat.”
Ignoring her hands in his pants, hands that wanted to travel downward so she could wrap her hands around his cock, he picked her up like she weighed nothing. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, causing his hard erection to press against her core. A delicious wave rocked through her and she sighed with pleasure.
“Oh, Ian. Thank you for this. We needed it.”
“Anything for you, baby.” He grasped the back of her head, sealed his lips over hers and nothing else mattered.
He kissed her hard, pushing her up to the nearest wall. She moaned, hooking her heels behind his back and rubbing herself against him. With a low, throaty groan, he thrust his tongue into her mouth at the same time he rocked his hips against hers. Dizzying swells of desire took hold and immediately brought her close to a fast climax. One she desperately wanted and needed.
She tangled her fingers into his hair and pulled, indicating what she needed. “Ian please.” She had to come. Needed to take the edge off the building arousal.
He broke the kiss, staring into her eyes. “Trying to run the show?” he asked.
“Trying to come,” she said, her voice a hoarse rasp.
He let out a low laugh. “I’ll let you have your way but only because this weekend is all about you.” He eased back, holding her against the wall with his hips and slid his fingers into the waistband of her bathing suit. He coated his fingers with her moisture and rubbed her clit, back and forth slicking over her exactly how she liked.
She groaned, her arousal spiking. She arched her hips, giving him better access and he curled his finger, gliding inside her core. She squeezed her inner walls, clutching around him.
“You’re so hot, so wet, baby.”
“It feels so good. Harder,” she said, writhing against him.
He pressed his thumb against her clit and began steadily pumping his other finger inside her.
“Ian!” She held onto his shoulders and rode out the orgasm that slammed into her, as he continued to flick and rub at her clit until she collapsed in his arms.
He kissed her lips before carrying her to the bed in the master nearby. He sat her down on the mattress, sliding her legs to the edge of the bed. He pulled off her bikini bottoms and hooked his thumbs into his waistband to shuck his shorts as well.
His thick cock stood erect as he spread her thighs. “Got a few things to tell you before I fuck you, baby.”
She blinked, her brain fuzzy. She might have come already but one look at him and she imagined the feel of that hard cock inside her. But she recognized that tone of voice. Whatever he wanted to say, it was important.
“I’m listening.” Even as her sex pulsed all over again and the desire to have her husband thrust into her was overwhelming.
“We’re getting a live-in nanny. You need someone to take the burden off you so you have time for everything else in your life.”
His words took her off guard. They’d discussed this. He knew her feelings. She wanted to raise her children herself. Have Rainey and Jack know their mommy woke them up and put them to bed.
“But –”
He shook his head. “But nothing. What’s money if we can’t use it to help make life a little easier? And we need time together as a couple as much as we need it as a family.”
As if to punctuate his statement, he gripped his cock and pumped his hand up and down with his hand, come glistening at the tip. Then, not playing fair, he glided the hard length along her clit.
“Oh,” she said moaning at the delicious sensation. But she knew he was distracting her, assuming he’d get his way if she was too sexdrunk to care.
“I respect you want to do it all yourself, but there are ways to manage things so you can have it all.”
She bit her lip. Yes, she’d always argued against help in the house, wanting to take care of her husband and her kids, on her own. She’d given up work after Jack was born, not an easy decision but her desire to stay home with the kids outweighed the desire to go to the office. And she was lucky enough to be able to make that choice.
She knew they were fortunate but she wanted to raise her own kids. She also knew her husband wouldn’t give up.
And he continued to tease her clit with his erection.
She swallowed hard, digging into her reserves to negotiate. “I’ll take a live-in housekeeper,” she managed to counter. “I can still be the one who handles the kids.”
“Uh uh. A mix of both. You need flexibility,” he said, his tone insistent.
She processed it quickly. With that kind of situation, she could control what was her domain and what wasn’t, so decided not to argue. “Agreed.”
“See? I can compromise.” He grinned and slid his thick cock into her sex.
Finally. She arched, pulling him deeper so he pulsed deliciously bare inside her. And then reality intruded. “Ian, you’re not using protection.” A slight panic took hold.
She’d gone off the pill before having Rainey and he’d used condoms afterwards because she hadn’t wanted to keep playing with her hormones. But they hadn’t talked about more kids just yet and they really did have their hands full with two. Still, the thought of another infant had her heart filling already.
He stilled, his hands on her thighs. “I’m good with another baby… now that you’ve agreed to my terms and will allow help,” he said with a knowing grin.
Terms. As if her agreeing to support around the house and with their children was such a hardship. He was such a silly, controlling man. If he’d come to her and had the conversation like a rational human, she’d have agreed. But that wasn’t Ian’s way. He liked to impose his will when he thought he was doing what was best for her or his family.
He arched his back and thrust forward, grinding his hips against hers. “Need an answer,” he reminded her through clenched teeth. “Am I pulling out?”
“No,” she groaned, completely okay with rolling the dice on another baby. As long as he kept going. “Fuck me, Ian.”
He didn’t make her wait. He pounded into her, his eyes on hers the entire time. With Ian, it didn’t matter how fast or slow, how hard or soft, each time was special. Each was making love. Each cemented the bond they had between them.
He knew how to make her soar.
He knew how to love her.
And when she climaxed, he came with her on a shout and full body shudder that triggered a second orgasm for her before he eased down on top of her.
IAN MADE SURE the rest of the weekend passed in an orgasm induced haze for his wife. A butler arrived at the house to cater to their every meal, cocktail, whim and need. They had all the time in the world to focus on each other… to talk, walk on the beach, lay in the sun, soak in the pool, catch up, make love and call home.
Often.
Because at the end of the day, they had a little girl and a baby boy they adored and were worried about and they were a family. And, Ian thought, with a little luck that family was about to grow. He was so damned lucky and he would never take his good fortune for granted.
A FEW WEEKS later, Riley had purchased all the presents for the family and her house was decorated for Christmas. In a little while, Ian’s family was set to descend en masse. She wasn’t nervous, she just anticipated being overwhelmed and if she was going to feel crazed, she was worried Rainey might react as well.
“Come here, princess.”
“What, mommy?” Rainey walked up to her and crawled onto the couch seat beside her.
Riley wrapped an arm around her daughter’s little shoulder. “So remember I told you we have a lot of people coming over today?”
“Yes. All my aunts and uncles and cousins.”
Riley smiled, brushing Rainey’s brown curls, so similar to her own, out of her face. “That’s right. I just want you to know you can come find me for a break any time you want.”
“Are they bringing presents?” Rainey asked.
Riley sighed, doing her best not to laugh. “I don’t know and it’s rude to ask, right?”
Rainey bobbed her head. “Yep. But it’s Christmas so they’re probably bringing me toys!”
Riley rolled her eyes. With the big Christmas tree already loaded with wrapped presents on display in the living room, was it any wonder her daughter expected more gifts? Which was just one reason they were going together to drop off toys at the women’s shelter tomorrow. So her daughter didn’t grow up unaware of what it meant to give to others.
And when her son was old enough, he’d join them on those trips. Right now, he still napped, thank goodness, which was where he was right now. Sleeping in his crib.
“How are my girls?” Ian asked, joining them in the den.
“Daddy!” Rainey ran for him and he scooped her into his arms. “Ready for a big day?” he asked.
Before she could answer, the doorbell rang, indicating the gang had started to arrive.
He carried her to the door and opened it. Riley came up behind him. His step-brother, Alex and his wife Madison were first to arrive. Madison had a casserole dish in her hands and Alex had a huge box with a big red bow. Looks like her daughter was, in fact, going to be loaded up with presents.
“Alex!” she said to the man who’d been her best friend even before she’d met Ian. “Madison! It’s so good to see you. Right?” Riley nudged Ian with her elbow as he put Rainey down.
“Good to see you, man.” Ian shook Alex’s hand. Their truce had come at a hard-won cost thanks to their father’s behavior, but they’d managed it and now got along. Even if they occasionally pretended it was still a hardship.
“Come on in,” Ian said.
Alex paused though, and knelt down to get eye to eye with Rainey. “Someone’s gotten to be a big girl!”
“You just saw her last week,” Riley reminded him.
He laughed and handed her the present. “Think you can add this to your pile under the tree?” he asked.
“For me!?” she screamed, causing Alex to wince.
“Better get used to the decibels,” Madison said with a grin.
Riley glanced at her. “Why? Are you…?”
“She’s pregnant!” Alex said with a proud grin.
“Great way to ring in the holidays. Congratulations,” Ian said.
Riley was already too busy hugging Madison and congratulating her. She was thrilled her sister in law and friend was pregnant because now she didn’t have to do her own nine months alone.
Yes, she had news for Ian. He’d gotten her pregnant that weekend on the island.
“Oops more company,” Alex said, glancing over his shoulder. “Let’s get inside.”
Alex’s siblings came next, Jason and Sienna, the only two single ones left in the family. They also loaded up Rainey with presents. Rainey was in heaven.
Riley was about to shut the door when another two car loads of family arrived. The New York contingent showed up straight from their hotel. Gabe, Izzy and their son Noah, who was a little younger than Rainey, walked in.
Rainey greeted them, grabbed her cousin’s hand and off they went, according to Rainey, to find cookies.
“Gotta love these kids,” Izzy said. “Good to see you but I need to make sure Noah doesn’t eat the whole plate full!” She blew a kiss and followed after the kids.
“Good thing our new nanny runs the kitchen as well as the kids,” Ian said, laughing.
As usual, when Ian made a decision, he implemented it with speed and thoroughness. He had Loretta vetted and hired within a week of returning from their vacation. Riley had to admit she adored the older woman.
Gabe grinned. “It’s the best, isn’t it?” He stared after his wife and child, a loving look on his face.
Ian slapped his oldest cousin on the back. “Nothing better,” he agreed. “Let’s go have a drink. The others can find us when they make their way inside.”
Riley waited by the door, greeting Amanda and Decklan and their daughter, Hannah, along with Max and Lucy. Finally, Ian’s last siblings trickled in, Dylan and Olivia and their toddler daughter Annie, and Scott and Meg, and their son Cole. Last but not least, Avery and her rock star husband, Grey arrived. Riley’s stepmom was traveling with her husband and couldn’t make it, and Ian’s mom was home with the flu, her husband Michael taking care of her.
After hugs and kisses and directions to the tree for all the gifts, Riley finally closed the front door behind all her guests.
Nobody had mentioned or invited Robert Dare. Even if Ian and his siblings wanted to forgive him for living a double life and having another family, the current rumors of him cheating on Alex and his siblings’ mother, Savannah, killed any good will some of the children had left. It was sad, but he reaped what he sowed. And as for Savannah, well, she’d known he had a wife when she’d had her initial affair with him, so it shouldn’t be a surprise he’d repeat patterns now.
The entire Dare family was under one roof and Riley, who’d grown up with an angry man as her father, knew how lucky she was that fate had given her Ian along with his big clan. So she did the smart thing now. She headed inside to enjoy her family. The ones who mattered.
IAN WASN’T AN easy man. He wasn’t easy to know, to deal with or to love. He knew this. And as much as Riley had changed him, there was much that remained the same. She loved him anyway, thank fuck. It went without saying that she was his world.
But he loved his family too. It hadn’t been too long ago that in his mind, family had consisted of his two brothers and two sisters,
period. He had refused to acknowledge his half-siblings because his father had not only cheated on his mother, he’d had an entire other family he’d hidden from them. Time and Riley had changed that and now Ian had not just accepted them but invited them into his home. And yes, into his heart. His New York cousins were an added blessing.
As he watched them mingle and interact, he counted those blessings, his gaze drifting to his wife. Riley rushed around to make sure their company was fed and had drinks in hand, despite having help to serve and clean up. All while running after Riley, who managed to find trouble no matter what. White out she showed her cousin, highlighters she’d discovered in the kitchen, and chocolate she wasn’t supposed to have any more of before lunch.
And she did it all with an indulgent grin on her face.
He pulled her aside. “Come with me.” He led her into their bedroom and shut the door behind them.
“Ian, we have company.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t have a few minutes alone with my wife,” he said, nuzzling her nose against his.
She sighed. “I love you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I love you too.”
She bit down on her lower lip. “I wasn’t going to do this now but… why not? It’s Christmas. I want to give you your present,” she murmured.
He arched his hips against hers. “Yeah? Right now?” His cock nestled into the vee of her thighs.
“Not that, your dirty man. Get your mind off of sex for a minute.”
He laughed. “Okay what’s my present?” he asked.
She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You’re going to be a daddy again. Merry Christmas.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Seriously?”
She eased back, meeting his gaze. “I wouldn’t joke about that.
“God, Ri. That’s the best gift you could ever give me. I love you so damned much. And I love our family.”
“And I love you, Ian Dare.” Her lips found his and locked in a long, wet, sensual kiss… until a loud banging sounded on the door.
“Mommy! Daddy! I spilt milk on my dress!” Rainey wailed, the loud banging continuing.
They broke the kiss, laughing. “This is what we asked for,” Ian said with a grin.
He stepped over to the door and swung it open. “Mr. Dare! I’m sorry. She got away from me.”
“That’s okay, Loretta. I’ve got her,” Riley said, rushing over to her crying daughter.
“We’ve got her,” Ian said. He grabbed her and lifted her up into his arms. “Let’s go clean you up, princess. Then you can get back to your cousins.”
Riley slipped her hand into his and together they took care of their daughter and headed back to enjoy Christmas day with the family. After all, they had a lot to celebrate.
Dear Readers:
I hope you enjoyed revisiting Ian and Riley and the rest of the Dare clan. Over the last few years, so many of you have written, asking me for more Dare stories and I hope to bring you just that at the end of next year. In the meantime, happy holidays, happy new year, and thank you for your unwavering support.
All the best, Carly
Thank you for reading A Very Dare Christmas! I hope you enjoyed Ian and Riley’s short story.
Want more Dares?
Below is a list in order of the Dare family series. Each book stands alone.
Dare to Love Series
Dare to Love (Ian and Riley from A Very Dare Christmas)
Dare to Desire
Dare to Touch
Dare to Hold
Dare to Rock
Dare to Take
NY Dare Series
Dare to Surrender
Dare to Submit
Dare to Seduce
The Knight Brothers Take Me Again
Take Me Down
Dare Me Tonight (A Dare / Knight stand-alone crossover)
Take Me Now
The Sexy Series
Sexy Dare (A Dare / Sexy stand-alone crossover)
Sexy Hers
Sexy Mine
Sexy Love
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About the Author
Carly Phillips is the N.Y . Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 50 sexy contemporary romance novels featuring hot men, strong women and the emotionally compelling stories her readers have come to expect and love. Carly’s career spans over a decade and a half with various New York publishing houses, and she is now an Indie author who runs her own business and loves every exciting minute of her publishing journey. Carly is happily married to her college sweetheart, the mother of two nearly adult daughters and three crazy dogs (two wheaten terriers and one mutant Havanese) who star on her Facebook Fan Page and website. Carly loves social media and is always around to interact with her readers. You can find out more about Carly at www.carlyphillips.com.
Table of Contents
Cover Title Page
Copyright Page About the Book
A Very Dare Christmas
Author’s Note
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There Harry found me, and I am bound to say that Jack himself never made as much fuss about me as his brother did on that occasion.
CHAPTER V BACK TO THE WOODLANDS
About four in the afternoon of the next day I was lying half-asleep in my cage in the bowling-alley when a sound in the distance made me spring up, quivering all over with excitement. Next moment the door burst open, and in rushed Jack. He never even waited to take off his hat or gloves, but ran up the long room, and flung open my cage door. With one bound I was on his shoulder, nosing him and biting his ears and hair in a perfect transport of delight, and I think he was just as glad as I was.
Presently his sister’s voice called him from behind. He turned and kissed her, and with me still on his shoulder, followed her to the Hall, where the Squire and Mrs. Fortescue were at tea.
After this Jack and I became more inseparable than ever. He had holidays—these days—and I simply lived in his pocket. The next afternoon there was great excitement. I heard every one congratulating Jack, though of course I did not in the least comprehend why his mother and sister hugged and kissed him, and the Squire solemnly shook hands with him. It was just as well for me that I did not realize what had happened, or those lovely September days would have been the most miserable instead of the happiest in the whole of my life; for Jack had passed an examination with the result that in a few weeks he would have to go and live and work in London—a dreadful place, I understand—where it is all houses and no trees, where the sun never shines, and where the only wild creatures that exist are those cheeky, chattering thieves, the sparrows.
Harry, too, was always with his brother at this time, and they talked more than I had ever known them to do before.
The two were very serious one day, lying on their backs beneath the trees on the lawn while I ran all over them both impartially. And from the way in which they turned to me and caught me up every now and then, as well as because I heard my own name frequently spoken, I came to the conclusion the conversation had something to do with my fate. And there was no doubt it had, for it was after this time they all left the Hall, and when I visited it again there were strangers—but I mustn’t go on too fast. I fancy Jack urged Harry to keep me while he himself was away, and Harry shook his head; perhaps he was afraid I might mope away, as I did before in Jack’s absence, and end by dying. Anyway, a gloomy silence settled again between the brothers. At last Jack started up and waved his hand energetically in the direction of the wood; then, springing to his feet, he called to me to come to him. I had leaped away in affright at his sudden movements, to which I never could get accustomed, but I returned again at once. Jack had quite sense enough to know squirrels mate for life, and the young ones usually stay with their parents all the winter; and he knew, what I did not, that mother and Hazel and Rusty would still be in the coppice to greet me, and teach me all the wild-wood lore, even though my father was dead.
The brothers argued for some time over my prospective fate, but I did not really understand until later, when their actions showed me what they meant. I had leaped from Jack’s shoulder during this weighty conversation, and was enjoying myself hugely, tearing round and round the two boys, and making an occasional dive into Jack’s pocket after the nuts and grains of wheat and maize which were always to be found there. But, after all, I was not taken away to the woodlands at once.
Three or four days later Jack again got up very early, and as he dressed I could hear out on the drive a great grinding of heavy wheels. As Jack hurried down he took me on his shoulder instead of putting me in my cage. His brother joined him on the stairs, and they walked down side by side, as solemnly as two old crows.
The hall was full of crates and matting, and men in green baize aprons were turning everything upside down. Outside, in the ring, were great vans almost as big as cottages. The boys hardly wasted
a glance on these things, but hurried past, and next moment were striding away across the dewy grass of the lawn.
I was amazed at being taken out so early, but all the same very much delighted, and sat on my master’s shoulder chattering with joy. Neither brother spoke, but walked steadily on under the long morning shadows of the tall elms until they reached the ha-ha which cut the garden off from the park. Jumping down the sunk fence, they turned to the right, passed under the shadow of the wall of the kitchen-garden, and along beside the laurel plantation beyond. A wicket-gate led through the park fence and into a large field, in which red cattle were grazing.
Strange memories began to stir in my breast as a line of tall, thick timber came in sight on the far side of the meadow; and when my master jumped the little brook and walked up over some broken, sandy ground where the white scuts of rabbits bobbed among the bracken, towards the tall magpie hedge beyond, my heart was beating so violently that I could only sit quite still upon his shoulder and stare about me in a sort of mazed bewilderment.
On through the gate, and at once we were plunged into deep, damp coolness. All the half-forgotten odours of moss and bracken and rotting wood, and a hundred other woodland scents, rose to my distended nostrils and almost overpowered me. Just then I could not have moved for the life of me.
Harry was the first to break the silence.
‘That’s where I saw the little beggars the other day, Jack,’ he said softly, and pointed to a tall beech-tree whose leaves, just beginning to yellow with the first chill of autumn, hung motionless in the still morning air.
Then they both seated themselves on a mossy log and waited, still as two dormice. The wild things of the woods, frightened into silence at these early morning intruders, gradually regained confidence. A rabbit popped out of his hole and began feeding on the close turf, on which the autumn dew-spangles gleamed in a patch of sunshine which struck through the leafy canopy overhead. A shrew-mouse,
intent on some business of his own, bustled noiselessly across the path; a woodpecker started his tap, tap, tap, as he industriously probed a rotten branch for his breakfast of fat grubs; two jays began calling harshly, and presently the flicker of their brilliant blue plumage glanced through the greenery. As for me, I had crept off Jack’s shoulder, and, sitting up straight on one end of the log, was struggling desperately to take it all in.
The boys never moved nor spoke, but presently Harry touched his brother gently, and pointed very cautiously towards the beech-tree. I, too, was gazing with all my eyes up into the tree, my heart throbbing more violently than ever, for down the smooth grey bark a patch of red-brown fur was softly stealing with slow, deliberate steps, clutching tightly at unseen footholds with outstretched claws. The boys saw him, and so did I, but we none of us moved. As for me, my feelings were beyond words.
Nearer he came, and now I saw that he was almost my own double. His head was stretched out at right angles to his body, and his eyes, bright as two jewels, were fixed upon me with intensest curiosity Presently he reached the lowest bough, and there stood motionless as I was, and staring at me with a strange intensity. The calls of kindred were clamouring in my veins, and all of a sudden the spell was broken. Without one backward look at my dear master, I jumped from the log, raced across the ground between it and the tree, and with one rattle of claws was up on the huge, lowest branch.
But behold! the apparition which had attracted me had disappeared, and I stared round in fresh wonder. Suddenly came a little sharp cry, and down from the leaves above me dropped—my mother herself! She gave a sharp bark of astonishment.
Then I remembered! A mad transport of joy thrilled me through and through, and with one wild dash I tore away up the tree, corkscrewing madly round and round the huge trunk in the way we squirrels have when joy is beyond expression.
Mother was with me, and next instant a third squirrel joined in our mad frolic. It was my brother Rusty, the squirrel whom I had seen first of all, and had failed to recognize after our long separation.
Before I reached the top, yet a fourth frantic dot of red fur was flashing round and round, barking madly, and I knew her for my sister Hazel. I think we were all quite mad with joy for the time being, and we never ceased our crazy scamperings until, quite out of breath, we landed all together in a fork among the branches high up in the leafy summit of the tall beech-tree. There we sat and began a talk that lasted I don’t know how long. It was the most curious thing. I had been away from them all so long, and become so accustomed to human talk, that I could hardly make my family understand my adventures, and they, on their part, were surprised beyond measure that any of the humans, whom they had so long looked upon as their hereditary enemies, could possibly have been so kind to me. But at last they had all my story, and then, and not till then, did the recollection of Jack come back to me.
When I announced my intention of going down again to find my master, mother evidently thought I was quite out of my senses.
‘But you have escaped. Surely you do not want to go back to live in your prison!’ she urged.
THE BOYS NEVER MOVED OR SPOKE.
I explained all over again what a good friend he had been to me, how he had saved my life, how he had fed me with all sorts of dainties; indeed, I strongly recommended her and my brother and sister to come with me. There was plenty of room, I said, and I waxed enthusiastic over the unlimited supplies of nuts, and fruit, and grain without any trouble in looking for them.
It was not the slightest good. Mother declared that the notion of living inside burrows—for that was her idea of a house and its rooms —was altogether detestable, and only fit for rabbits and humans, and would most certainly kill her in a very short time. All I could do, after much urging, was to persuade my family to come down to the lower branch and watch me go and talk to Jack.
Rusty was quite ready—he always had a bold, determined streak about him; but mother and Hazel hung back. When we got down, there was my dear master sitting where I had left him, all alone.
Harry had left. His face lighted up when he saw me hopping along the branch above him, and he gave the little whistle I knew so well, and stood up. Running to the pendent tip of the branch, I made a flying leap, and landed clean on the top of his cap.
‘Why, Nipper, Nipper,’ he said, taking me on his hand and stroking me fondly, ‘I almost thought you had forgotten me!’
I nibbled his finger lovingly by way of apology, and signified that I was quite ready for a nut. It was promptly forthcoming, and then as I ate it he put me down on the log, and walking softly towards the tree, turned out two pockets stuffed with the finest hazel-nuts, and piled them by handfuls into a hollow as high as he could reach.
Then he sat down again beside me, took me up and talked to me, and petted me for a long time. At last, very slowly and reluctantly, he put me back on the branch from which I had leaped down.
‘Good-bye, old chap,’ he said in a queer, unsteady voice, and suddenly turned and walked quickly away.
To say that I was astonished would be putting it mildly. I was absolutely thunderstruck, but after a minute made up my mind it was some new kind of game, and prepared to follow.
‘Scud! Scud!’ I heard mother call, but I paid no attention. Running along the branch as far as it would bear, I made a flying leap into the next tree. It had been my dear father’s boast that he could travel from one end of our coppice to the other without once touching ground, and indeed I found no difficulty in doing the same. I was so excited that I thought nothing of jumps of six times my own length, for Jack was walking very fast, and I was in a dreadful fright that I might be left behind.
At the gate he turned and saw me. He stood a moment irresolute, then quickly vaulted the gate and started off across the field. At this I grew quite desperate, and dropping into the hedge scuttled along it, reached the gate-post, and sitting straight up gave one sharp bark. At that my master turned again and hurried back.
‘Oh, Nipper, why can’t you go home?’ he muttered, and picking me up, walked very fast back to the big beech-tree.
‘Good-bye, once more, old fellow,’ he said stooping over me, and suddenly I was startled by a drop like rain falling on my head.
Looking up in amazement, I saw my dear master’s face twisted as though in pain; but before I could make up my mind what was the matter, he suddenly pitched me gently back into the hollow where he had put me before, and brushing his sleeve across his face, fairly ran away down the path. Before I well realized what had happened, he was lost to sight among the trees.
As soon as I recovered a little from my astonishment, I started a second time for the gate; but before I reached it Jack was half-way across the field, and travelling so fast that I knew I could never catch him; and besides, I had always been terribly afraid of the ground ever since my escape from the terrier.
I don’t think that ever in my life have I felt so utterly miserable as when I realized that my master had abandoned me. You see, I could not understand it at all, and my one sensation was an utter and overwhelming loneliness. Gradually, too, I became frightened. I had never been alone out of doors before, and this was all so different to the Hall garden. The field seemed a vast green desert, and behind me the wood an illimitable rustling mystery full of unseen perils. How long I sat there straining my eyes after the vanished form of my master I do not know, but what roused me at last was a sudden rustle behind, which made me start violently. However, it was only Rusty, who had followed me, and was seated on a swinging hazelbough in the hedge, staring at me in a perplexed fashion.
‘What’s the matter, Scud?’ he asked at last.
I told him I felt very forlorn now that my master had left me. My brother could not believe that I wanted to follow him; such a thing was quite beyond his comprehension.
When I assured him it was true, Rusty looked as solemn as if he was now certain that I had quite taken leave of my senses.
‘What! You want to go back and live in those burrows when you’ve got all the wood to roam in!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ll be shot if I can understand you! Do you mean that you’d rather spend your time all
alone in a place you can’t get out of than go foraging round with us all day as free as—as’—Rusty’s imagination failed him, and he paused—‘well—as free as a squirrel, for there’s no other creature in the woods that is as free as we are.’
I reminded him that I was used to being protected, and had never experienced anything but the utmost gentleness from Jack and his family.
‘Yes, I know. I’m sure he is quite different from those red-faced brutes who broke our nest down and killed poor father,’ replied Rusty ‘And he has left us nuts enough for a month. But all his kind are so big and so dull. They can’t climb trees like us, or jump;’ and my brother made a splendid spring down to my side just to show what he could do. ‘It’s no kind of life for a squirrel. My brush, but I should have taken the first chance to run off and come back home!’
Then he gave a sudden low cry of warning, and instinctively I followed him as he bounded back into the thick of the hedge just as a hen sparrow-hawk stooped like a falling stone out of the blue above, reaching the grass by a tuft of gorse a little way out in the field. There was a sharp cry, cut short almost before it was uttered, and then the feathered robber rose again, bearing in her crooked talons the struggling form of a linnet. A few small feathers floated away through the still, warm air, and all was over. The hawk sailed away towards a distant tree with her meal tight clutched between her claws.
It was long since I had seen one of these everyday woodland tragedies, and it made me realize with a shock that now I had myself only to depend upon, with no strong human hand to aid me. Frightened and unhappy, I followed Rusty quietly back into the heart of the coppice, and that night saw me one of a furry ball of four, curled in a hole in the heart of the great beech.
CHAPTER VI A NARROW ESCAPE
I did not forget my master and settle down to my old out-door life at once. Every morning for many days I visited the gate at the end of the wood-path, and sat there or in the hedge beside it, straining my eyes across the meadow in the hope that Jack might come back once more. But never a sign of him or Harry did I see, and though, as the leaves began to fall, it was quite easy to view the roof of the Hall across the shrubberies, no smoke rose from the tall, twisted redbrick chimney-stacks.
How good mother was to me in those days I well remember. She encouraged me to tell her all I could of the Hall and its people, and all the incidents of my captivity, and she alone of my family seemed thoroughly to sympathize with me in my longing for my lost master.
Hazel, too, was very dear and good, and would listen with the greatest interest to my long yarns. She was a sweet little thing in those days, very small, but extremely well built and active, and, for a young squirrel, of a peculiarly rich colour. Rusty, however, had little sympathy with my longings. He was already a large, powerful squirrel of an extremely independent turn of mind, and most extraordinarily bold and fearless. Mother was in a constant state of anxiety about him, for he would go off on long expeditions quite alone, sometimes not coming home till nearly sunset, and ever since father’s death mother had been nervous as a hare when any of her children were out of her sight.
As for me, I soon became thoroughly at home in the wood, and could climb as well as either my brother or my sister, though I was at first by no means so adept at taking shelter as the other two. I had grown so accustomed to many sights and sounds ordinarily alarming to one of our tribe, that mother had often to scold me for exposing
myself heedlessly to view on the rare occasions when people walked through the wood, and she had to show me all over again the tricks of lying out flat on a bough so that I could not be seen by passers-by, or of supporting myself on a trunk beneath a sheltering branch when danger in the shape of a hawk threatened from above.
The good and plentiful food with which I had always been supplied at the Hall had made me fat and strong beyond what squirrels usually are at my age. There was very little difference now between me and Rusty, though originally I had been smaller. It was lucky for me that I had been turned loose just at this special time of year, for autumn is, of course, the squirrel’s harvest, and food was particularly plentiful that season. Nuts were ripening among the yellowing leaves; acorns were to be had for the picking; the beech-trees were full of mast, and when we tired of these there were spruce-seeds and berries of every description.
Earlier in the year larch, fir, pine, and spruce tips had been our main sustenance, but these were now getting dry and old, for it was past the season of evergreen growth, and so we left them alone and fed almost entirely on nuts and seeds.
About this time we had several days of soft warm rain, and after them part of the horse pasture which adjoined the coppice on the other side from the Hall was thickly dotted each morning with little white buttons, which mother explained to me were mushrooms. We used to steal down across the wet grass in the mornings, brushing through the gossamer spiders’ webs till our chests and paws were white with them, and feast royally on the tenderest and daintiest of the mushrooms, sometimes getting terrible frights when the village children who came to fill their baskets saw us, and clapped their hands to make us run.
Mother was a wonderful forager. I remember one morning how she stopped on the bank where the beech-trees grow thickest, and after snuffing a moment or two, began to dig rapidly in the soft, black, loamy soil. Presently she nosed out some little round objects covered with a dark skin, and pushed one over to me. Never have I
eaten anything more delectable than my first truffle. I can find them myself now as well as anyone.
Other fungi too were plentiful after that rain. Some grew under the trees, some on rotten logs, others out in the open. Some were good to eat—better even than mushrooms—but others were poisonous. Mother never passed a new one without showing us which were fit to eat and which were not. There was a brilliant scarlet kind which she warned us against strongly; well I remember how she scolded me one day because just for fun I pulled one up, and stuck it stalk down in a fork of a tree. I did not repeat the experiment, for it left a bad taste in my mouth for hours afterwards.
About this time my coat began to change. Squirrels that are born early in the spring have fur of a greyish-brown hue very like the coats that old squirrels put on in winter, but we, being June kittens, had summer suits of red-brown without any ear tufts, or any hair on the palms of our hands. First, my tail changed and grew darker, much heavier and more bushy. It turned to a blackish-brown, quite different from its previous bright chestnut-red hue. My coat, too, began, but more slowly, to lose its ruddy tint, and to assume its winter colouring. I became dark brownish-red on the head and back. My white under parts changed to grey, which spread along my sides. It also grew longer, softer and warmer, and my ear tufts began to show. During the summer a squirrel has but a few hairs on the points of the ears, but winter brings a thick tuft a full inch in length.
We squirrels have a strange peculiarity. We are the only living creatures, so far as I know, who change our coats twice a year and our tails once only. As I have said, we change our coats in spring and again before the cold weather, but our tails once only—in autumn. A healthy squirrel looks at his best in late September and early October, for at that time his new brush is extremely bright, while his new grey-brown coat is rich and long. Both fade during the cold weather, the fur especially becoming during long frosts of a yellowish rusty hue. There are, I believe, some squirrels, near relatives of our own, living in Canada, who turn almost white in winter. But as—luckily for ourselves—all we squirrels have the sense to sleep away most of the cold weather, we have not the same need
to conceal ourselves by assuming the colour of the snow, as have Arctic hares and foxes and many other animals which are obliged to work and forage for a living during the hard weather.
But I was talking about the good times we had that autumn and the various delicacies we used to hunt. After the rain which brought such a crop of mushrooms, we had a week of wonderfully warm, soft, hazy weather, but then the wind switched round into the east, and for the first time in my life I understood what cold was. It blew bitterly, with a hard grey sky, and the trees being still full of leaves, the noise of the gale through the coppice was one long roar, the great boughs swaying, creaking, and complaining bitterly. Very glad we were, when night fell, to snuggle all four close together in the hollow in the beech hole which mother had selected as our abode after the destruction of our second nest! It was a very convenient residence, considering that it was a ready-made one. Some winter storm of years long past had torn away a large branch at its junction with the trunk, and rain and weather had rotted the scar till at last a hollow was left large enough to hold a dozen of us. Once it had been full of water, but a green woodpecker boring its nest in the trunk below, the moisture had drained away through the rotten fibres, and now it was dry as a bone, and formed as convenient and comfortable a retreat as any dreyless family of squirrels could possibly desire.
The gale lasted two whole days and nights, and then it cleared and left a hard blue sky from which the small white flecks of windcloud vanished one by one, and on the fourth morning we woke to find the grass white with hoar frost and a keen tang in the air which filled us with a wild delight in the mere fact of being alive. Rusty, Hazel and I sallied forth and tore round and round like three mad things, flinging ourselves from bough to bough, rattling up and down the huge trunk and wide-spreading branches, playing all manner of practical jokes on one another.
Mother watched us indulgently, but when, quite out of breath, we at last came back to her, she announced that the time had arrived to begin the collection of our winter stores.
‘Now that you have no father,’ she said, ‘you must help me in the work, for remember there is nothing worse than to be caught by bad weather unprepared, and without many stores of food.’
That was the first real work that I ever did. It seemed odd, when we reached the nut bushes at the edge of the coppice, not to choose the plumpest nuts, and sit and eat them on the spot. I think, indeed, that we all began by doing so, and mother did not interfere until we had each had a good breakfast; but afterwards she kept us steadily to work. I am afraid that we needed a good deal of superintendence to keep us up to the mark, but mother set us such a good example that we were shamed into doing our best. At first I was under the impression that we were to carry all the nuts back to our beech-tree home, but mother laughed when I suggested this, and told me that it was quite unnecessary to do anything of the kind. After looking about a little, she chose a long hollow under a gnarled old blackthorn trunk at the bottom of the hedge, and here, and in other similar cavities, we stored a goodly supply. Towards noon mother told us that that was enough for the day, and while she and Hazel went back home, Rusty and I decided to go for a little round on our own account.
Working down the hedge, we came upon a patch of thick brambles from which the blackberries were falling from over-ripeness. A greedy cock pheasant below was simply stuffing himself with the fallen berries and those near the ground. For a joke Rusty crept up quietly, and then, making a sudden bound, alighted almost on the handsome bird’s head. Off he went with a terrific whirr and flutter across the big meadow, and Rusty, with a malicious gleam in his eyes, sprang back to my side.
Presently we found ourselves at the coppice gate, and instinctively I stopped and gazed across the meadow towards the Hall. The wind had brought many leaves down, and the long, low, red-brick building with its steep tiled roofs, stood strongly outlined behind the thinning fringe of its oaks and elms.
I don’t know whether it was the keen, brisk air, or what, but suddenly the idea came to me to visit the old place once more, and on the spur of the moment I suggested it to Rusty.
For a moment my brother looked blank. Adventurous as he was, the idea of crossing more than a quarter of a mile of open grass land rather staggered him. You know we squirrels will make journeys of any length provided we can travel through the tree tops, and so long as a tree is handy we have no objection to short trips across country from one to another; but none of us care about open ground. We can run at a good speed for a short distance, but there is no cover in grass. There we are absolutely at the mercy of any hungry hawk, while weasels have a nasty trick of popping out suddenly from rabbit earths or drains. Then, too, there is no escape from the gun or rabbit rifle of any pot-hunting man or boy, while poaching dogs or cats are another source of really desperate peril.
However, Rusty was not the sort to think twice of danger, or to be outdared by the brother whom he had secretly despised as a ‘tame’ squirrel. I saw his teeth set and a sudden sparkle in his eye.
‘All right,’ he remarked, and that was all. He was out of the hedge and over the ditch before me, and leading the way at a great pace across the pasture.
We did not keep to the path, but made off to the left, where an irregular fringe of trees grew along inside the hedge which cut off the pasture from the road leading between the Hall and the village. Great luck attended us. Beyond a few rabbits we saw no sign of life, and when we got close enough to the trees to take refuge if any danger approached I breathed more freely, and I feel sure that Rusty was equally relieved. Racing along among the rustling dead leaves, we crossed the brook near the culvert under the road. The rivulet was so small that it was no trouble to jump. Then we found ourselves in the park, and here we had to take to the open again. The fine clumps of timber which dotted it here and there were our islands of refuge, and we ran from one to the other, the same good fortune attending us during our whole journey. From the last tree we steered for the kitchen-garden wall, and keeping along the bottom of this, reached the sunk fence. Once up this, and I was on familiar ground.
A long narrow plantation of Kentish cob-nuts bordered the wall which divided the kitchen-garden from the lawns, and in this we were
soon snugly ensconced.
‘My teeth! Did you ever see such nuts?’ exclaimed Rusty, staring in wide-eyed amazement at the great russet-coloured cobs which hung in profusion among the brilliantly tinted leaves.
‘Oh yes, I’ve eaten lots of them,’ replied I, with conscious superiority. ‘Try them. They’re uncommon good.’
Rusty needed no second bidding, but set to work, and cutting the tip off one of the largest nuts, was soon discussing its fat, white kernel with a gusto which proved that he thoroughly agreed with me in my estimate of the quality of cobs. I joined in, and we made a most delicious luncheon. From where we sat the lawn and part of the house were in full sight, and all the time I kept a watch fill eye upon the clump of evergreens where I had been used to play, in the hope that I might see the familiar figure of my dear master in his rough tweeds, and his cap on the back of his head, sauntering across the lawn.
Alas! there was no sign of him nor of any of the Fortescues. Had I known it, half the length of England separated me from the nearest of my old friends. After a time, however, some one did stroll out upon the terrace walk. He was a complete stranger—a short, fat man, with red cheeks and mutton-chop whiskers. He wore a grey bowler, tipped far back upon his head, his thumbs were stuck in the armholes of his gaudy waistcoat, and a long, black cigar was held between his thick lips. He was gazing round him with a complacent air of proprietorship which in some indefinable fashion annoyed me intensely.
Suddenly he took the cigar from his lips and shouted loudly, ‘Simpson!’ A man with a bill-hook in his hand came hurrying round from the shrubbery behind the house.
The stout man pointed to Jack’s and my pet clump of evergreens. ‘Those shrubs are untidy, Simpson. They want clipping up. Get to work on ’em at once!’ And, to my horror and disgust, Simpson began chopping and carving away at the deodars and arbor vitæ, lopping all the boughs up a man’s height from the ground, and turning the
pretty shrubs into the stiff, unnatural likeness of the toy trees in Jack’s youngest brother’s Noah’s Ark.
Then, as I looked about me, I began to see that many things had been changed. The laurels were cut close and flat; a number of fine limbs had been sawn from the elms; several new beds of weird pattern had been cut in the splendid century-old turf of the lawn; the gravel paths were all fresh swept; everything had a painfully overtidy appearance.
Presently one of the drawing-room French windows was pushed open, and a third person appeared on the scene—a boy about Jack’s age, but how strangely different! He was short, like the elder man, and had the appearance of having but just stepped out of a band-box. His cord riding-breeches were as immaculate as his white cuffs and tall white collar; his brown boots quite gleamed in the autumn sun, and he wore new dogskin gloves. Strolling over towards his father, he began to talk, but we were too far away to hear what they said. After a short time they both turned and came across the lawn towards the kitchen-garden door.
‘I say, Scud, hadn’t we better hook it?’ suggested Rusty. But I was so interested in these new people, who seemed to have usurped the place of my dear Fortescues, that foolishly I replied:
‘No; they’re not coming near us. Keep still, and they’ll never see us.’
The pair had nearly reached the garden door when I heard the boy exclaim something, and they changed the direction of their walk in the direction of the hazels. A swish of bent branches shortly followed.
The distance from the garden door down to the angle of the garden wall was not more than thirty yards, and I knew very well that, thick as the bushes were, there was not a ghost of a chance of our remaining undetected if they came poking about in this fashion.
‘Come on, Rusty!’ I muttered, and we at once made off as quietly as we could. Unluckily for us, while the stout man was poking his head among the branches, puffing and blowing as he did so like a
broken-winded horse, the boy had walked on down the path, and next moment his shrill voice rang out:
‘I say, father, here are two beastly squirrels stealing nuts. Keep an eye on ’em while I get my gun.’
He was off across the grass at a pace one would not have credited him with, and we, aware that any attempt at further concealment was useless, went off also at top speed.
What we both dreaded was the long open space at the bottom of the kitchen-garden wall, where it abutted on the park. However, there was no shirking it. If we stayed where we were we would be caught like rats in a trap. It was Rusty who made the jump first out of the bushes and down the sunk fence, and as I followed him I heard the fat man shouting hoarsely: ‘Quick, they’re running away!’
How we scuttled! Even a terrier would have had his work cut out to catch us. There was no cover at all until we reached the far end of the long line of wall, and we strained every nerve to gain the hedge which ran at right angles from the end of it, separating the park from the road. The distance was not much more than seventy yards, but it seemed like a mile as we tore along. Fresh shouts behind us spurred us to almost super-squirrel efforts. Hardly five yards were left when suddenly—bang, and a sound like hail pattering on the ground behind us. Next second, and with simultaneous bounds we were in the hedge, but before we could get through it and into shelter on the far side the sound of another shot rang through the calm autumn air, and this time with better aim. Leaves flew in the hedge, and a sharp blow on the head sent me staggering, nearly causing me to lose my foothold.
‘Come on, Scud. We must cross the road,’ called Rusty at that moment; and with a fine jump he was across the ditch and out on the white, dusty surface.
Recovering myself, I followed, and found that, though my head was singing, I could still run as well as ever
Luckily there was not a soul in sight, so we crossed the road in safety, plunged through the opposite hedge, and found ourselves in
a plantation of young larches about twenty feet high. Through these we went as hard as ever we could pelt, until, quite exhausted, we came to rest somewhere in the thickest depths, and, climbing into one of the largest trees, lay panting and tired out on an upper bough. For a minute neither of us could move; then suddenly Rusty, glancing at me, exclaimed:
‘Why, Scud, you’re hurt!’
‘Yes, something hit me,’ I answered faintly.
In a moment the good fellow was licking my wounded head. A pellet of shot, it seemed, had glanced along my skull, cutting the skin and going right through one of my ears. The wound bled a good deal, but it was not a serious one, and after I had got my breath back, and after my heart had ceased thumping as though it would burst, I felt very little the worse, and announced that I was quite ready to start home. But Rusty, more cautious, refused to move.
‘That fellow with the gun may be waiting in the road for us,’ he said. ‘Much better stay here a bit. The shadows are still short, and we shall have plenty of light for our journey home.’
His advice seemed good, so we waited where we were for an hour or more. My wound stopped bleeding, but my head was very sore. It was not, however, so badly hurt as my feelings. That I should have been shot at and nearly killed in the garden of the Hall seemed beyond belief, and what made it worse was that I had impressed on Rusty over and over again that whatever the dangers in our coppice, the Hall grounds, at any rate, were a safe refuge. One thing I was deeply grateful for—that he had not been harmed. With all the intensity of my squirrel nature I hated the intruders who had put the insult upon me. How I longed that Jack might have been there to take vengeance on our persecutors!
