A Stockingful of Joy Read Online Free PDF

them.
    "You can always call out your Dog on me," he muttered, and shifted to his side, his back to the cold wall. The box-bed was narrow, and they were jammed together as if in a snug nest. Kenneth felt the tension in her shoulders as she lay stiffly against him. "Relax," he said, adjusting his position. "I must rest my arm somewhere. If I lay it just here, will you attack me with your poker?" He balanced his forearm gently on her hip.
    "I might," she said. He smiled at her wry tone. He settled, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair and enjoying the feel of her, close and warm on a cold night. Their bodies fit comfortably together—far too comfortably, he thought, and stirred slightly away from her.
    He thought of Anna, for it was New Year's and the third anniversary of her death. But he was deeply exhausted, and her image seemed distant. He sighed, feeling strangely content, almost peaceful. Listening to Catriona's even breathing, he slipped into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
     
    Catriona opened her eyes once again, wanting to be certain that the banked fire still burned. She lay half awake and heard the wind shove at the outer walls, and heard Kenneth snore.
    Snuggling against his solid warmth, she felt safe and comfortable, although he was a Fraser, and largely unknown to her. In the morning daylight would bring a new year, and cold reality. But now, while darkness spun a bridge from the old year to the new, she felt a brief respite from loneliness.
    Turning, she felt his arm, heavy with sleep, fall across her abdomen. His breath stirred her hair. Lured by his warmth and strength, hungry for the reassurance of simple touch, she rested her head against his chest. He sighed in his sleep and wrapped his arms around her.
    Drawn into that shelter, Catriona suddenly felt tears sting her eyes. Kenneth did not awaken, but pulled her closer, as if he sensed her need for solace even in his sleep.
    Curled into the curve of his body, listening to the deep, even beat of his heart, she sniffled and wiped her eyes. Finally growing drowsy, she knew that, this once, she could sleep peacefully and without fear.
Chapter Four
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    Kenneth awoke to silence, but for the low crackle in the hearth, and sat up to see that Catriona was gone. Shoving his fingers through his hair, he felt a throbbing reminder of his injury, and still felt the grogginess of total exhaustion. Judging by the light, he must have slept late into the morning. He crossed the room and pulled open the window shutter, then blinked at the brightness.
    Snow blanketed the hills and piled high in drifts of down. After a few moments he saw Catriona wading through the yard. She entered the house on a draft of bitter wind, shaking the snow from her clothing and setting down a small bucket of fresh milk. Her cheeks were a high, clear pink as she unwound her plaid.
    "Blessings of the New Year to you, Kenneth Fraser," she said. "I have been out to see to the animals. The snow is quite deep. I could hardly walk from the hut to the byre." She sat on the bench to remove her boots.
    "Luck of the New Year," he returned. "You should have asked me to see to the animals."
    "You were asleep," she said. "And why should I ask you?"
    "Because I owe you for sheltering me."
    "You are injured and fatigued, and you brought gifts to me. I will repay you with hospitality," she said. "After that, we owe each other nothing. Our clans are at feud, after all."
    "Catriona." He glanced at her somberly. "We are not at feud, you and I. I know a promise was made to you when you were born. I came here to honor Lachlann's pledge as best I could."
    She sent him a swift glance. "With food and candles, or with men at your back and a sword in your hand?"
    "I came here to see that you were well," he said firmly. "I came here to protect you, if you need that."
    She looked away. "I need nothing from a Fraser."
    He sighed, watching her profile, delicate but precisely made, as if stubbornness began in her core, in her