Faerie Tale

Gabbie hid her face behind her hands as she uttered a groan. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’

Jack leaned back in his chair. ‘Yes, I can understand. That tattoo is pretty ugly.’

She looked out from behind her hands, half-amused, half-upset, and hit him in the arm. ‘You bastard! I bet you enjoyed it. Taking advantage.’

Jack was caught halfway between a grin and a concerned look. ‘Actually, I was pretty worried. You were drenched with perspiration, burning up and all. I had to wet you down with a damp cloth.’ His grin broadened. ‘Still, I can’t say as I didn’t take notes as I went.’

She hit him again, harder. ‘Ow!’ he protested. ‘That’s enough.’

Suddenly she reached out and put her hand behind his neck. Yanking him forward, she kissed him long and hard. He returned the kiss, then, when she pulled away, said softly, ‘Now, what was that for?’

‘For being worried and for not taking advantage.’

He shrugged. Gently he said, ‘Gabbie, when you yank me into bed, I want it to be because you really want to, not because you’re all delirious with fever.’

Gabbie’s eyes widened. ‘Yank you into bed?’

Jack grinned even more. ‘Yes, you … ah … had some interesting ideas last night.’

Gabbie hid her face behind her hands again. ‘Oh God!’ Then after a minute she looked at him. ‘I thought those were all dreams.’ Once more her hands covered her face. ‘I think I’m going to die.’ She looked at him. ‘What did I say?’

Jack laughed. ‘What’s it worth to you to know?’

He leaped from his chair as she swung at his shoulder. ‘You son of a bitch,’ she said, laughing. ‘You’d better tell me!’

Jack backed away from her, his hands held out before him in a gesture of supplication. ‘Now, I don’t know …’

She jumped forward and he dodged into the service porch. Bad Luck had been lurking under the kitchen table and at the sudden burst of activity began barking, a joyous canine celebration of noise.

‘Shut up, you hound.’ Gabbie laughed. ‘You,’ she said, pointing at Jack. ‘Speak!’

At that, Bad Luck barked. Jack halted his retreat, laughing uncontrollably. ‘I surrender.’ Gabbie came into the ring of his arms and he kissed her. ‘You didn’t say much. You said something about a blacksmith fixing My Dandelion’s shoe, then were quiet until I started undressing you.’ She buried her face in his shoulder and made embarrassed noises. ‘Then you thought to reciprocate.’

She laughed. ‘Whew! I must have been out of it.’

‘I like that!’

She looked up into his eyes. ‘Don’t fret,’ she said kissing him. ‘As long as you aren’t interested in Miss Dock Bumpers, you’ll have no problems.’

Jack grinned. ‘You really got jealous?’

Gabbie rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Ya, I did.’ Suddenly she was angry. ‘Damn it,’ she said defiantly as she pushed herself away and turned towards the kitchen. ‘It’s just not fair!’

He was after her in a stride and took her arm. Her momentum caused her to turn and he drew her back to him. ‘What’s not fair?’

‘In less than three months I’ll be back in California.’

‘Hey! It’ll be all right.’

She looked long at him. ‘Promise?’

He grinned. ‘I promise.’

She bit her lower lip. ‘I tried to undress you?’ He nodded. ‘Ow!’ she said with a wince as she turned back to the kitchen. ‘I’m starving. Let’s eat.’

‘Which I take it means you want to change the subject.’ He admired her as she leaned over to peer into the refrigerator. ‘Still, you did have me worried.’

She looked back over her shoulder. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really.’

She looked radiant. ‘Thanks.’ Looking back in the refrigerator, she asked, ‘Ham or bologna?’

‘Ham.’

She pulled the fixings from the refrigerator and bumped the door closed. Putting everything down on the table, she paused and looked thoughtful. ‘Did you say I talked about a blacksmith?’

‘Yes, you did. Why?’

‘Funny. I just had an … image of a man … I don’t know. It must have been the fever.’

Jack only nodded, but he wondered. Too many strange things had occurred in those woods, and he still couldn’t shake the feeling he had seen something on Erl King Hill on Midsummer’s Night; he just couldn’t remember what. And at night he had odd dreams just before falling asleep, ghostly dancers and the faint, inhuman music. He tried to remember the dream in the morning, but it just slipped away: yet he knew there had been something there. He shook himself from his musing and grabbed a pair of plates from the cupboard, handing them over to Gabbie.

Outside he could hear Gloria’s voice as she shouted something at the twins.

• Chapter Five • (#ulink_7a781be7-783b-53de-a095-40c1e0d80e83)

‘Okay, monsters, back off.’

The boys grudgingly retreated a step as they watched the workmen. The concrete around the pole had been poured a few days before and left to dry, and now the dish itself was being mounted. Patrick and Sean had been hovering around them all morning, asking questions, and generally being underfoot. The two workmen didn’t seem to mind, but Gloria was determined to give them a demilitarized zone in which to work. She glanced at the house and wondered if Gabbie and Jack had resolved their differences. She was pleased that Gabbie appeared back to normal this morning, but still felt uneasy about last night. The fever had been sudden and severe. It had been at least 103, if Gloria could judge from touch. She had nursed two babies through fever and knew Gabbie’s had been high. Still, no harm, no foul, as that basketball announcer back in LA said all the time.

But there was something about the sudden onset and recovery that disturbed Gloria. It just didn’t fit her set of acceptable illnesses. Anything that wasn’t clearly a cold, flu, broken bones, or allergy was suspect. Symptoms that didn’t make sense were always a sign of terrible things approaching. A deep fear of Gloria’s never shared with anyone, not even Phil, was a terror of illness. Cancer, heart disease, the other lingering, disabling illnesses with long technical names that twisted bones, filled lungs with fluid, robbed the muscles of strength, all were horrors beyond her mind’s ability to accept. The strongest, most robust man she had known – her father – had died of cancer. And the symptoms had been misleading at first. His death simply amplified her deep fear of debilitating illness. She gave up smoking in high school when other girls were just beginning. She wasn’t a health food fanatic, but she stayed away from refined sugar and high-cholesterol foods and made sure everyone stayed active. She had badgered Phil into running when they had met, and now he was addicted. No, Gloria thought, it was just a bug. But deep inside she wondered if she should press Gabbie to see the doctor.

Ted Mullins, the owner of the local television shop, personally supervised these installations. He had made a fair profit from other farmers nearby and this was the fanciest ground station he had sold yet, so he wanted it perfect. Satisfied all was going as it should, he turned to Gloria and said, ‘Ma’am, I’ll need to hook the cable up inside the house now.’ She nodded distractedly. ‘The dog, Ma’am?’

Gloria smiled. ‘Boys, go get Bad Luck and take him for a walk.’

‘Ah, Mom,’ Sean began to complain. She gave them both the Look and they fell silent and walked towards the house. ‘And make it a long walk.’

Mullins, a heavy man of middle years said, ‘Fine-looking boys. You must be proud.’

Watching Sean and Patrick vanish round the rear of the house, she smiled in appreciation. ‘Yes, I am. They’re pretty terrific kids.’

‘I’ve got a boy about their age, Casey. Ought to get them together.’

Gloria said, ‘Does your Casey play baseball, Mr Mullins?’

The man grinned. ‘All the time.’