I bit back the smile as we walked out to my Fiat and waited until we were on our way to ask, “So you’ve never seen a leprechaun before?”
He snorted. “There’s no such thing as a leprechaun.”
Amusement rose in my chest, but I ignored it. “Sure about that?”
He turned his smug expression on me. “Positive.”
“So you’re sure you would know a leprechaun if you saw one? What would you say they look like?”
He frowned. “You seriously want me to describe a mythical creature?”
“Humor me.”
“Okay, a little guy. Maybe three feet tall, Santa belly, bright red hair and beard. He’s evil, or at least not very nice. Has a pot of gold somewhere. How’s that?”
“If I told you McDuffy is a—”
“Don’t go there, Quinn.”
The laughter was getting harder to hold back. “Fine. But remember this conversation for later.”
As soon as we parked, Hunter slid out of my car and over to his. I thought maybe he had decided to run away, but he was only going for a camera. I watched as he snapped shots of the copper sign with historical details of the creek. He also shot pics of the picnic tables and went down the embankment again. I stood back as he took pictures of the creek area. I figured I’d stay out of his way, maybe guard against invaders—human, Bigfoot, or otherwise.
He headed back my way, smiling as he approached. “Afraid of the Bigfoot?”
“Nope. I was afraid this time I’d wind up in that freezing water.”
“You’ve got a point. It was cold for me. Your thin Florida blood couldn’t handle it.”
“Where is your thicker blood from?”
He narrowed his eyes. “So you didn’t search me on the Net? I think I’m insulted.”
I playfully slapped at his arm, and he laughed.
“Okay, I was born in Memphis.”
“Tennessee or Arkansas?”
“Smart girl. Tennessee.” His voice had dropped an octave.
“Southern boy,” I whispered.
“And proud of it.”
“Where to now?”
He brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face, and his touch sent warm tingles through me. “I was thinking maybe I could take you to lunch and you could give me some guidance about the best places to gather information and local color.”
I shrugged. “I’ll do my best.”
Thirty minutes later we were sitting at a table on the Taco King porch finishing our plates of delicious tacos. The mid-October breeze was a little chilly, but the bright sunshine warmed the air, making eating outside a pleasant, relaxing experience.
“Do you have any suggestions for places to go for research?”
“You mentioned a different take on Ugly Creek history. If I knew what that was, it would help me figure out which places to suggest.”
“Fair enough. I’m planning to look deeper into some of the most prevalent stories and debunk the paranormal aspects.”
Thankfully I managed to swallow the sip of cola I’d just taken. “Debunk?” I choked out.
“Yes.” Hunter’s grin had a smug twist. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Why?” It was all I could think to say.
He shrugged. “Because nobody else has, and the truth needs to be told.”
I considered my options. “You do realize the people here take their local stories very seriously?”
“Including creatures and events that can’t possibly be true. That’s what you’re saying, right?”
“Creatures and events that you believe can’t be true. Yes.”
His expression was downright pity-filled. “Please tell me you don’t buy in to that crazy Bigfoot stuff.”
I swallowed what I wanted to say and stuck with, “What I do or don’t believe isn’t your problem. It’s what the community believes.”
“I’ve thought about that. I’m not sure it’s a matter of belief as much as a matter of money.”
I shook my head in an unsuccessful attempt to understand. “Say what?”
He leaned toward me. “Tourism. The locals want to keep their mystique so as to attract tourists.”
“Hunter, Rosemary’s B&B is the only place in town to spend the night. Not very conducive to your alleged tourist trade.”
“Maybe they don’t want to encourage a night life. Doesn’t matter anyway. Whatever the reasons are, I’m not aiming for tourists. I’m writing for people who are interested in history. Real history, not tall tales or legends.” He leaned forward as he put his hand over mine. “Will you help me, Terri?”
What else could I do? “Sure. Just let me figure out the best places for you to visit.”
“Fair enough. What do you think about the train museum this afternoon? I saw a brochure and it looks very interesting.”
“It’s a fascinating place steeped in history. Plus, I’ve heard rumors that aliens sometimes hang out in the woods near there.”
“Then that’s where we’ll go.” He gave my hand a firm, but gentle, squeeze, along with a big smile that had me grinning back like one of those silly designer dogs.
He paid for lunch, and we headed out. I left my windows down on the drive to the museum, hoping the fresh air would clear my head.
****
I parked in the museum lot and got my things. “I totally forgot to give these to you earlier.” My hand shook a little as I handed copies of my books to Hunter. As he took them from me, his fingers brushed mine and warm tingles moved up my arm from the point of his touch.
“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind about letting an opinionated professor like me look at your work,” he said.
“I am a little leery,” I admitted.
He leaned in so close his lips brushed my ear. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”
I gasped, and the spicy, musky, totally male scent of Hunter Devereux all but knocked me off my feet. Who knew a human male could affect a woman like that?
“Are you all right?”
“Huh?” I looked into his grinning face, and the enchantment ended. My face went abruptly hot, and I wanted to race away into the woods. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Let me put these in my car, then I need to get to work.”
I managed a nod, and as he turned to open the door of his car, I rushed off toward the museum.
Outside the main building, sitting on a section of track that dated from the Civil War, was a huge steam engine. I decided the black hunk of hard metal was probably the inspiration for the huge, deadly robots that populated many science fiction books and movies. It wouldn’t take much imagination at all to transform the bulk into a moving thing of death and destruction.
“She’s gorgeous,” Hunter’s voice said from beside me.
I looked at him, wondering what he’d seen. Oddly, he was looking right at the big engine. I looked at the hulking piece of intimidation again, and saw the same thing I’d seen before. “Deadly robots.”
“Excuse me?” His lips twitched.
“Did I say deadly robots out loud?”
“Yes, ma’am, you sure did.”
I was trying to think of a delightful explanation, when a loud noise from the direction of the woods caught my attention. A white rabbit hopped out onto the paved parking area and toward where we stood. Seconds later, Mr. McDuffy came charging out after the creature.
“Git back ’ere, you mutinous wee barl av fur!” Duffy yelled. His short legs were pumping hard, his face red from the exertion, but there was no way he would ever catch the bunny.
Without a second thought, I took off after the cute critter. I managed to head it off near the entrance of the museum, and seconds later scooped it up.
“Thanks for catchin’ me wayward varmint,” Duffy said, as he reached to take the animal.
I moved so he couldn’t get it. “What are you going to do with him?”
“Take him back wha he belongs. Now gie it ter me!!”
I backed away from
Duffy’s hands. “Not until you tell me what you want with him.”
Duffy sighed. “Yer are a pain in de arse, ain’t yer lassie?”
“You’re not making stew with this cute little guy?”
Duffy let out what sounded like some not very nice Celtic language. “I’m not gonna cook Leonardo.”
Hunter had come over to stand next to me, and a snort came from his direction.
“Don’t yer laugh, outsider.” Duffy glared at Hunter.
“Sorry.”
“So what are you going to do with him?” I asked.
Duffy looked down for a time before he met my gaze. “’e’s me pet.”
That didn’t satisfy me in the least. “Then why was he running from you?”
“He likes ter run.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Give me rabbit back.” Duffy tried again to take the bunny from my arms.
“No!” I turned away from him, brushing against Hunter.
“Aren’t you being a little harsh?” Hunter whispered. “Rabbits run if they get half a chance.”
“Not this one,” I told him, though I’d have a hard time explaining that
Leonardo had told me he didn’t want Duffy to take him.
“Women,” Hunter muttered.
Okay, now I wanted to smack both men upside their hard, stubborn heads. I clinched my teeth and pulled the rabbit closer to me.
“Fine, I’ll tell yer.” Duffy looked at his feet for a minute before he glanced at me again.
I looked at Duffy and waited for his explanation.
“He’s sweet on a lassie.”
My patience was at the end of its rope and ready to hang somebody. “And?”
Duffy’s cheeks went pink. “Yer take a lad bunny and a lassie bunny, and next yer ’av bunny babies al’ over de place.”
I looked at the fur-ball in my arms, forcing his little face around to look at me. “Is this true?”
“You’re seriously asking the rabbit?” Hunter’s voice was a combination of humor and bewilderment.
I ignored the human and handed the bunny to the leprechaun. “Behave, Leonardo.”
The pair headed back into the woods.
I turned and met Hunter’s amused expression. “So the rabbits talk to you, huh?”
He should be grateful I didn’t bite him. “Would you believe me if I said they do?”
“No.”
I shrugged. “Since that’s settled, don’t you have work to do?”
“You’re right.” He gave me a look of total exasperation and stalked off.
“Bonehead,” I muttered as I followed.
He didn’t look back, but he chuckled.
Chapter Four
I sat on my haunches nose—to-nose with my nemesis. He was much smaller than me, an easily taken foe if I chose to go all-out. I’m pretty sure he didn’t believe that. Nevertheless, it was the truth. His sparkling emerald gaze held mine as we assessed each other, each of us wondering how the game would be played.
It was he who struck first, his weapon sharp, his aim exact. I easily dodged the blow, and followed up by edging toward him. As expected he backed up, but then threw himself forward like a spring. I was expecting move, but it was a fluid motion that came closer than I’d like to his target. He was quite skillful.
The sound of a vehicle pulling in distracted me for a second. My opponent took the opportunity to strike, and he came within a hair’s breadth of my nose. I parried, following that with a tip of my head in appreciation of his ability. The game was over, though. We both knew who had just pulled in my yard.
I barked, and he arched his back and hissed. I barked again, and he let out a wail. Behind him appeared Miz Carlisle, who scooped my nemesis into her arms.
“What did that mangy mutt do to my little Bumpkins?”
We gave each other one last look of appreciation, the equivalent of “good game” between two humans, and I loped off toward home.
The minute I was inside, I shifted and pulled on the robe I keep by the back door. I rushed into the living room to find my cousin and her fiancé kissing with an intensity that likely would have embarrassed me, had I been totally human. “Okay, okay, you can do that later,” I told them. “Right now I have to know how it went.”
They were in no hurry to break up their necking session, so I stood, arms crossed, waiting for them to cool down. I finally decided the display was too much even for a half-canine, and went into my bedroom to put on clothes. When I came back, Ace and Shay had moved from kissing to staring into each other’s eyes. “Okay, so you had a wonderful time and you came back here to rub it in my face. Am I close?”
Shay looked at me. “Sorry, cuz. Yes, we had a wonderful time. We came back because we have lives.”
“My parents loved her.” Ace’s face brightened with pride. “I knew they would.”
“Get any writing done?” I asked her.
Shay sighed. “Of course not. I don’t know why I even took my laptop.”
“That just proves you had a good time. I’m glad. You both needed a break.” They were good people and they deserved happiness.
“So what did you do while we were gone?” Ace asked.
I shrugged. “Just wrote, mostly.”
Shay leaned back, hands on her heart, eyes so wide I thought they might pop out. “Oh Lord, how many books did you write?”
I gave Shay a wide-eyed, innocent look and exaggerated wildly. “Only three.”
She rolled her eyes. “You need a hobby.”
“Ha-ha. I bit back the grin as the two of us grabbed iced tea and cookies from the kitchen and took the snack into the living room. It was so much fun to tease Shay, and she loved to tease me too. She was also supportive, and I considered popping out with the bestseller list thing, but I didn’t want to do anything to lessen her happiness. She would be there for me if I really needed her. Either of them would be. Ace was like a brother to me, and I loved them both.
The lovebirds sat side-by-side on the couch, and I curled my legs under me in one of the comfy chairs. They were adorable, and I worked hard at not being jealous.
It seems to me sometimes that I got a sour deal with the shapeshifting. Not that I would change who I am, I love being able to shift. It was only when it came to relationships, of all kinds, that things got dicey. I couldn’t exactly announce to all and sundry that I’m half-collie. Only family and one of my closest friends know my secret, and I trusted her because she had a secret of her own. Thing is, if I couldn’t open up to my friends, how could I open up to a casual date? Or even a guy I was falling for? But how could anybody know the real me without knowing what I am? That leaves me exactly where?
Then again, who was I really? A writer? A collie? A hermit who only goes out to run around the yard, buy necessities, or write at the library? Where I meet arrogant professors doing research. I smiled, remembering the tall handsome pain in the rear. “While you were gone I helped out a fellow writer do research.”
Shay smiled. “Sleuth Dog has Internet skills.”
Sleuth Dog. Shay calls me that when I use my doggie self to infiltrate and gather information. People never pay attention what they say in front of a dog, and dogs have excellent hearing. I think the whole thing is amusing, but this wasn’t about that.
“Actually, there’s a guy in town who’s writing a book on Ugly Creek history, and I’ve been showing him around.”
“Wait, did you say ‘guy’?”
I sighed. “Yes, he’s male. A professor at some little private college.”
“Old dude?” she asked.
“No, I’d say maybe a little older than me. Opinionated like you wouldn’t believe.”
“It’s not Hunter Devereux, is it?”
I couldn’t have been more surprised if Ace had told me he was a were-giraffe. “How did you know that?”
He shrugged. “I did a magazine series with him about four years ago. We went to South America to do a piece on the impact of deforestati
on on endangered species of the rainforest. He and another guy wrote the articles, and I took the photos. It was an incredible place, and we had an amazing time.” Ace’s shoulders relaxed, and a smile lit his face.
“You’ll have to tell me what it was like down there,” Shay said. “Was it scary?”
“Some of it was,” he said.
“I would love to hear all about it too, but right now I have to know why you thought of some random guy you did a job with instead of all the other people in the world.”
Ace grinned. “Because he’s the reason I moved to Ugly Creek.”
“You’re making less sense all the time.” I told him.
He chuckled. “Okay, it’s like this. Hunter was a little obsessed with Ugly Creek, even brought along some material about it that he’d printed off the Net. He swore he would write a fascinating history of the area.”
My curiosity was twitching with interest. “Did he say what it was that interested him so much?”
“Not really. He just said it was a different kind of place.” Ace grinned. “Got me interested, and after I got back to the States I did some research of my own.”
“And here you are.” Shay smiled at him with that wide-eyed, every-word-he says-is-interesting expression only a woman in love gets.
“He’s definitely opinionated about fiction,” I said.
Ace grinned. “Hunter is a little bit odd.”
“Odd how?” Shay asked.
“He’s a nerd. Loves fantasy and science fiction.”
Understanding dawned, alone with a desire to smack myself on the forehead. “That’s why the bow ties.”
Ace laughed. “Has he worn a fez yet? Bow ties aren’t so bad. Funky red hats are a little weirder. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen. I finally got so frustrated I hid his fez.”
Shay smacked him on the arm. “That’s not nice.”
He made a scoffing noise. “You try taking pictures while laughing. Plus, I think he scared the animals.”
“Were there any women out there with you?” Shay narrowed her eyes at him.
“Two, but they were ugly and we all started stinking pretty quick.”
Tails of Ugly Creek Page 3