Page 2 of Entangled With You

“It’s not too fast, Magnus, I’m only going 65.” To Zach I said, “He’s grumbling about my speed.”

“Tell him we’re teaching him to drive when he gets back.”

“Perfect, we’ll try and get back within the week. With Quentin.”

“It would be great if you guys were here for Christmas.”

“That’s my plan.”

Zach hung up.

I looked over at Magnus. “You’re going to love Christmas: the tree, the presents, the feast.”

An hour into the ride, Magnus asleep, a Sean Mendez song came on the radio. I cranked it up because I was bored and sang, loudly. Magnus opened one eye. I turned and sang dramatically, directly to him, emoting, wailing. He smiled and watched me for a moment.

“What is this then?”

“This is the song of our moment, sing with me. Listen to the words. It’s talking about us.” I tapped on the dashboard during the music, then pointed at him when the chorus started. “Follow me...” I sang and Magnus sang some of the words, a beat behind, watching me for cues. The song wound down. I tapped Spotify on my phone to play it again. “Once more!”

I was belting out. I said, “Okay, chorus again, now sing it to me.” He sang in a deep baritone voice and it vibrated all my insides, so sexy and oh so yummy.

“Awesome. Thank you.”

“Twas quite a good song once I kent the words.”

I jokingly fanned my lap. “Twas quite hot once ye sang the words. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing before.”

He laughed and joked, “Twas almost as good as the songs back home.” He began to sing. “I heard the liltin’, at the yowe-milking, the lassies a-lilting afore the dawn o' day; but now they are moaning on ilka green loanin’, the Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.”

“What is that one about?”

“The battle of Flodden, a verra long time ago, and the men haena returned from the war.”

“A tragedy, we have to be dramatic for it. Sing more.”

Magnus sang, “We'll hae nae mair liltin’ at the ewe-milkin’, the women and bairns are dowie and wae. Sighin’ and moaning, on ilka green loanin’, the Flowers of the forest are all wede away.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“Aye. But do yours once again, m’fair lassie, I have a need for the loud music of the time tae keep my mind off the comin’ storms.”

I picked up my phone to push play again. And we sang.

PROLOGUE - KAITLYN

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 5:45 PM.

Near Gainesville, Florida

Ipulled the Mustang down the dirt road that wasn’t marked except for a rusted mailbox and a broken down gate leaned across the entrance. The gate didn’t do anything but pretend to be a gate, sort of, just by looking like one. Magnus jumped out of the car and swung it open. I drove through and he swung the gate closed across the road behind me.

We followed the dirt road winding through the woods. It was now rutted with thick mud because of the storms yesterday. I drove around the deeper puddles hoping that the Mustang wouldn’t get stuck. Mud sprayed up behind my wheels. Our car would need a really good washing when we got back. The tires slid a bit on a wet patch. “Come on come on come on.” I did not want to deal with a car stuck in mud while wearing all of these layers of woolen clothes. Plus it was growing dark out here.

We finally made it to the grassy slope near the small dock at the edge of the freshwater spring. We parked our car to the side under the pine trees.

I popped the trunk. Magnus and I made a trip carrying our supplies from the trunk to the dock. I had a new leather backpack. We had a small stack of wool blankets, some clean towels. Some protein bars wrapped in wax paper. I had a kit for medical⁠—

My attention moved up the slope to the trees. “Do you hear horses?”