It would occur to her later that she hadn’t been surprised because she’d known it was there. She’d seen it in her dreams.

“How wonderful.” The pleasure did come, and quickly now. Tilting her head over her eyes to block the angle of the sun she studied it, as an artist would, for shape and texture and tone.

It wasn’t large, and several of the stones that had served as lintels had fallen. But the circle stood, majestic and somehow magically in a quiet field of green where horses grazed in the distance.

“I’ve never seen one, except in pictures.” Hardly aware that she’d linked her fingers with Murphy and was pulling him with her, she hurried closer. “There are all sorts of legends and theories about standing stones, aren’t there? Spaceships or druids, giants freezing or fairies dancing. Do you know how old it is?”

“Old as the fairies, I’d say.”

That made her laugh. “I wonder if they were places of worship, or sacrifice.” The idea made her shudder, pleasantly, as she reached out a hand to touch the stone.

Just as her fingers brushed, she drew them back sharply, and stared. There’d been heat there, too much heat for such a cool morning.

Murphy never took his eyes off her. “It’s an odd thing, isn’t it, to feel it?”

“I—for a minute it was like I touched something breathing.” Feeling foolish, she laid a hand firmly on the stone. There was a jolt, she couldn’t deny it, but she told herself it came from her own sudden nerves.

“There’s power here. Perhaps in the stones themselves, perhaps in the spot they chose to raise them in.”

“I don’t believe in that sort of thing.”

“You’ve too much Irish in you not to.” Very gently he drew her through the arch of stone and into the center of the dance.

Determined to be practical, she folded her arms over her chest and moved away from him. “I’d like to paint it, if you’d let me.”

“It doesn’t belong to me. The land around it’s mine, but it belongs to itself. You paint it if it pleases you.”

“It would.” Relaxing again, she wandered the inner circle. “I know people back home who’d pay for a chance to stand here. The same ones who go to Sedonna looking for vortexes and worry about their chakras.”

Murphy grinned as he scratched his chin. “I’ve read of that. Interesting. Don’t you think there are some places and some things that hold old memories in them? And the power that comes from them?”

She could, nearly could, standing there. If she let herself. “I certainly don’t think hanging some pretty rock around my neck is going to improve my sex life.” Amused, she looked back at him. “And I don’t think a farmer believes it, either.”

“Well, I don’t know about wearing a necklace to make things more interesting in bed. I’d rather depend on myself for that.”

“I bet you do,” Shannon murmured and turned away to stroke one of the stones. “Still, they’re so ancient, and they’ve stood here for longer than anyone really knows. That’s magic in itself. I wonder—” She broke off, holding her breath and listening hard. “Did you hear that?”