The tremendous bay snorted violently. Its entire body quivered before it reared, unseated its rider, and took off into the forest. Snig and Snag then jumped on Chimera's attacker, biting, pinching, kicking, and hitting him wherever they could. Chimera joined them, but even with three people on him, the man managed to escape. Snig and Snag threw stones at him as he followed the same route his horse had taken, and Chimera hurried toward Sterling.
"Chimera, find the other triplet!" Sterling bellowed and slammed his fist into Willard's belly.
Chimera paled when she remembered Snug's absence. She began toward the woods but stopped when she saw the missing youngster come speeding from the thicket. He held a skunk, its rear end pointed in the opposite direction of Snug's own body.
"Get away, Chimera!" he shouted, and charged toward Sterling and Willard.
From the corner of his eye, Sterling saw Snug and the black and white animal he was holding. Understanding immediately what the boy was going to do, he summoned all his strength, brought his knee up forcefully into Willard's groin, and then rolled as far away as possible.
Willard moaned in pain, curled up his body, and turned onto his back. His eyes closed, he failed to see Snug shaking the skunk directly above his head. It was only when warm liquid squirted his face, when the most awful odor known to man streamed into his nostrils and mouth, that he knew he'd been defeated. He struggled to his feet, one hand clutching his loins, the other clamped tightly over his mouth, and staggered out of the yard. "I'll be back," he warned. "Sprague will—"
Sterling, Chimera, and the children never heard the rest of Willard's threat. The only sounds coming from the woods were gagging noises.
"He's throwin' up." Snig beamed.
"You beat the shit outta him!" Snag congratulated Sterling. "And we beat the shit outta the other one! We blew pepper up his horse's nose, and when he fell off, we let him have it!"
Sterling wiped at his cut lip. "Thank you for your help. But watch your mouths, or I'll fill them with soap. Now go on into the cabin," he ordered, and glanced at the dead man. "See to Venus or something. Just stay there until I've buried—"
"We seen dead men before," Snag said proudly. "Last year, we saw four of 'em. Apaches got 'em."
Sterling shook his head. "Well, aren't you just a worldly bunch." He readjusted the shawl around his waist. "I don't suppose you'd go get my breeches, would you?"
"Gnomes got 'em," Snig said in all seriousness, and shook his head as if he sympathized with Sterling's plight. "Found 'em, stole 'em, and cut 'em up. Them pants probably made millions of gnome clothes for the colony."
Sterling snarled and then saw Chimera and Archibald sitting on the porch step. He was relieved to see they were both unharmed. But Archibald's shoulders were shaking. Sterling knew shame and self-condemnation were the reasons for the boy's tears, but a man-to-man talk with Archibald would have to wait. There was that damn camel to save first. Because of all the commotion, Pegasus was now in a frenetic rage.
I've already been beaten half to death, Sterling told himself as he limped toward the swaying barn. What's a little camel bite now? He marched straight to Pegasus, swore when the beast lunged at him, then snatched up a large burlap bag from the ground. "Think you're pretty damn clever, huh, Pegasus?" With one smooth motion, he threw the bag upward and yanked on the ends to tighten it when it landed over the camel's head. "Try biting me when you can't see me, you stinking mass of Arabian arrogance!" He yanked the stall door open and then, feeling through the bag, he found the animal's halter and held on fast, knowing the animal would object.
Pegasus reared, lifting Sterling off the ground. The years-old planks of the barn cracked louder. The sound of splitting wood crashed through Sterling's mind, and the sight of rotten timber descending toward him sent him hurtling closer to Pegasus. With strength born of desperation, he urged the camel toward the back wall and barely escaped being crushed as half of the barn roof collapsed to the ground. They were now completely enclosed by fallen wood.
"Sterling!" he heard Chimera yell.
"We're all right," he assured her, panting.
"Come out of there this very minute!"
"Oh, sure!" He eyed the back wall as he deftly avoided the camel's stomping hooves. "I'm only buried in a barn, so I'll be right out!"
The back wall would give way and the remainder of the roof would come down if Pegasus did not remain still, he realized. But the back wall was the only way out. Any other would-be escape route was blocked off by the mountain of fallen wood. Sterling knew the back wall had to come down. When it fell, it would fall out into the yard and not into the barn. The remaining roof would come down directly, but there would be a few precious seconds to escape its collapse when the wall gave way. Then he'd run like hell out into the open. And Pegasus... he'd have to fend for himself. Surely he'd understand instinctively that he had to escape too. The scheme devised, Sterling began pushing at the wall.
"You aren't planning on coming out without Pegasus, are you, Sterling?" Chimera called to him.
He stopped pushing at the wall. Leaving Pegasus was exactly what he planned to do. But if something were to happen to the beast, Chimera would be brokenhearted. "Damn."
He turned toward the blindfolded Pegasus and frowned in consternation. How hard could riding a camel be? Still, was he supposed to sit in front of the hump, behind it, or on top of it? Maybe it would be easier to just use it as a handle and hang off the beast's side, he mused. No, he couldn't do that. Without a rider right on his back, Pegasus wouldn't know what to do.
While pondering the situation, he couldn't prevent a slight grin. His circumstances were totally unbelievable, and never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he'd one day be trapped in a rotten barn, a vivid pink shawl around his waist, trying to decide how to ride a vicious camel that wore a burlap bag around its head. Still, considering who owned the barn, whose children were responsible for stealing his clothes, and who set such a store by the camel, anything was believable. Anything at all.
After a sigh of resignation, he walked around Pegasus and reached for the hump, but he couldn't get his arms completely around it. He'd have to climb the side of the stall and leap on. Pegasus would probably have heart failure, rear again, and they'd both be killed in the resulting avalanche of wood.
What a ridiculous way to go, he thought as he climbed the side of the stall. When he was high enough to be able to jump onto the camel's back, he let go of the stall beam and took a flying leap. Before Pegasus had time to react, Sterling kicked the beast's sides, and the camel, unable to see the wall before him, lunged forward.
The momentum and sheer strength of Pegasus' solid body brought down the decaying wall in seconds. Sterling, sitting in front of the hump, leaned forward and hung onto the camel's neck. Just as Pegasus made it out into the open, the entire barn collapsed with a tremendous crash. And just as Sterling began to believe they'd made it out safely, Pegasus stumbled over a board and sent his rider flying through the air.
Sterling landed with a resounding thud directly in front of Chimera's feet. She removed the toe of her boot from beneath his nose. "Well, I hope this has taught you your lesson, Sterling Montoya."
He spat dirt from his mouth. "What kind of lesson? How to escape a collapsing barn on the back of a camel and not break my neck when I come flying off of him? How to get used to wearing a pink skirt with green fringe? How—"
"Golly darn it, Sterling!" she cursed. "The lesson you should have learned is that we need you! You had no business running away from us this morning like you did. Now, did you learn that lesson, or not?"
Sterling staggered to his feet. Glaring at her, his first thought was that she was trying to manipulate him into staying with her. Attempting to shame him into it.
But as hard as he tried to convince himself of that, he knew it wasn't true. He wasn't here because of any scheme of hers, but because of Venus. Chimera had had nothing to do with bringing the baby here.
His suspici
ons soothed somewhat, he looked more deeply into her brandy eyes. They were flashing defiantly, but behind their glitter was a hint of doubt.
He thought her pretty when she was deep in thought. She was lovely when she was laughing, comely when she was teasing, and striking when she was angry.
But the way she was now—hesitant yet proud, angry yet wanting to yield, self-sufficient yet in great need—like this he thought, and swallowed, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
Ah, what the hell, he mused. Since he had to stay, why not make the very best of the situation and get as much fun as could be had from it? His lusty thoughts made him grin.
He drew himself up to his full height. "My lance, Archibald," he commanded imperiously, and nodded when the boy handed him a sharp piece of the barn. "My armor, Archibald," he ordered, and bent so the boy could place a tin bucket on his head. "My shield, Archibald," he demanded, and waited as Archibald hobbled into the cabin and returned with an iron skillet.
Armed thus, he faced Chimera. "Are you the damsel in distress?"
Her answer was a smile.
"Rest easy then, m'lady," he said, and bowed before her. "Sir Sterling Montoya, at your service."
Hurry up and write a bio, they said. We need it to put on the page, include it in the write-up, insert it within this part, that section, send it here, there, and other places. We have to have a description of you, Beckie, they said. We can't just throw your books out there.
But what does an author write in a bio? Hurry, Beckie. Born here, lived there, went to school at this university, married a man X amount of years ago, had 2.5 children (although I don't know where that .5 kid is.) This grandmother said to me, "..." That aunt told me, "..." I did "this" when I was little, and that's when I started to write. What are your hobbies, favorite books, everyday likes, interests, treasured memories, they said I had to answer.
Under outside pressure and self-pushing, I started trying to write this bio well over a year ago. And everything I wrote, I deleted. Because it just wasn't right. There are too many rules about bios. A long list of details readers anticipate, they said. Hurry, Beckie.
But I can't do it that way, the way I'm supposed to. Nothing about me matters. And this is really, REALLY hard for me to write, to find the words to tell you. I think you must forget about everything you believe and is natural to you. For only the few minutes you need to read this, allow all that is realistic and sensible to you to fade away and not reside in your mind anymore.
There's this tiny, not-even-a-whisper space. Wee though it may be, however, its significance swallows up all the many things you "know" to be true. The more guileless you are, the easier you will arrive. Indeed, if you presume, you have already lost its path.
Imagination has no need to take wing in this realm because there is no need for flight where nothing is nailed.
If you allow me, I will take you there. And then you will know me, and I will know you.
Table of Contents
Cover
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Excerpt from MOONLIGHT AND MAGIC by Rebecca Paisley
Meet the Author
Table of Contents
Cover
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Excerpt from MOONLIGHT AND MAGIC by Rebecca Paisley
Meet the Author
The Barefoot Bride Page 45