“Thank you.” I’m in awe that I just thanked someone for kissing me, but it was simply beautiful and exactly what I needed. Ryder smiles, but then it fades as if he is already regretting what he has to say. “The Blood Clones—that is our name for them because they contaminate blood—have caused all this illness in your town.”
Now I understand his reservations. My voice lowers. “They killed my father.”
Ryder’s exhale oozes regret. “Your father was in the beginning—part of why we came here. I’m sorry we were too late to save him. Blaze speaks highly of him, says he didn’t go down without a fight.”
Tears from that very fight roll down my face. My father was the bravest man I will ever know. Ryder’s thumb tenderly catches a tear with not one ounce of judgment for my weakness. “We don’t have a cure, Rose, or we would have tried to save him. We are more of a line of defense. We try to prevent the attacks. Your mom—we lucked out. The herbs worked.”
I gently touch his face with nothing but the admiration I feel for him. Not for a second would I hold Ryder responsible for my father’s death. I’m thankful he was able to do more for Mama. Besides, we need to discuss what he is trying to hide from me. Something is bouncing off Ryder like a neon sign. “Guilt here! Guilty! Party of one, right here!” “You seem like a very intelligent… elf.”
He looks to me suspiciously. “Uh, thank you?”
“And that is why I know you will tell me what you’re trying to keep from me.”
I can feel him make the decision to tell me what I want to know. Smart little elf. “The Blood Demons—the Clones—don’t want to end. They want to continue to cause death and havoc among your people. People in general. Only the Prophecy can stop them.”
“The Prophecy?”
“Yes.”
“And what would that be?”
“It would be a who, Rose.”
At breakfast, I sit like a zombie, not aware of anything around me. Shock. I’m in complete shock from the pressure that landed on my shoulders overnight. Thinking of heroes in movies, I never realized how scary it is to be brave. I thought I was brave, but to sacrifice for the better good—to have such deep-rooted fear and doubt—yet know you have to still try has me bewildered. Staring out my kitchen window at the woods I have spent the last few weeks in, wishing for such an adventure, I almost curse myself for being so naive. Then I wonder about Ryder and what it was like to be born into such a battlefield. Did he choose this? Does he get scared? I know he was last night, but I think that fear was more for me.
I don’t even hear the front door open and shut, but I do see my best friend coming through the kitchen doorway, his long hair and strong stature making so much more sense now. Maybe I should see him differently, but he’s still ol’ Gunner to me. Without another thought, I get up and walk to the most stable person in my life, wanting the security he always gives me.
I pull on his collar to check him for Clone teeth marks. Ryder said I can’t see them, but I can’t help trying. When I notice nothing and Gunner looks healthy as usual, I sigh with relief, putting my arms around his waist.
“What is it?” he suspiciously asks as his arms circle me.
Mama, passing my mood off nonchalantly, keeps clearing the table. “She’s been checking us all morning. Beats me.”
Gunner slowly rocks me. He knows me better than Mama does. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I look up to him as fear crosses my face. I’m not telling him anything, yet telling him everything is all I’ve ever done. His hands cup my cheeks. “Rose?”
“Maybe some fresh air?” Mama’s voice echoes through my deep thoughts.
“Yeah, let’s try some fresh air.” Gunner leads me to my back porch. He sits in the old rocking chair. I crawl right into his lap. I may be twenty, but I feel like a trapped animal. We stay quiet for a while, staring into the woods like we do so often. But now I know there’s so much more out in those mountains. Now I know why I cling to Gunner. Now I know a part of who he is is out there, waiting for him, and I am scared of losing him to a world I can’t compete with.
Ryder said not to tell Gunner about himself, so I whisper about Ryder. “He’s real.”
Gunner teasingly whispers back. “Who?”
“The guy from the night in the woods.”
The chair stops moving. “Just a scary nightmare, Rose.” His tone is deep and serious.
“Parts were, Gunner. Others are—”
“Others are what?”
I jolt, sitting up, hearing his frustration growing. “There’s—he’s—”
“Rose, you’re tired.”
“No, I mean yes—very tired—but not because of him—well, maybe but—”
“Do you hear yourself?”
I’m surprised to feel the need to defend myself. “Do you hear me?”
“I hear you being ridiculous about some guy who doesn’t exist.”
“He’s not a guy—”
“Forgive me. A man.”
“Uh, not exactly.” Nor are you.
“Oh, this should be rich. Then what is he, Rose?”
“A—uh—He’s a—”
“A what?”
I recoil, startled. “Why are you yelling at me?” I slowly get off his lap, not recognizing this part of Gunner. We have argued. Lifetime friends do, but this—this is different.
He stands and paces. “Because you are making me compete—”
“Compete?”
“…with a-a—you don’t even know what!”
“He’s an elf!”
Gunner’s jaw drags on the ground as he stops pacing and faces me with pity in his eyes. He attentively reaches out to me. “Oh Rose, I think—”
“That I’m nuts?” Wait ’til you hear what you are!
Gunner put his hands out, suggesting I calm down. “I’m not saying that, but, baby, you’re trying to convince me that your imaginary friend is… an elf.”
“A Guardian elf!” My eyes slam shut as I hear how insane I sound. I let one eye peek open to see Gunner’s judgment.
Hesitantly, he nods. “Yes, the ‘Guardian’ part makes it so much more real.”
“He is real. And—”
“Then where is he?” He gestures. “Where is this—Guardian elf?”
There’s no way to sound sane. “Home. He-He sleeps ’til about noon.”
“Rose, that doesn’t sound like an elf. Sounds more like a bum.”
“I need you to believe me! There’s a lot going on. He was here last night—”
Gunner gets angry in a second flat. “Here? In your house?” He suddenly sounds territorial. His not-so-human self is becoming more and more evident. I never saw it before. I just figured it was his way, not his Guardian way.
With much reservation, I timidly nod.
The gold in his eyes gets brighter and bores into me. “I’m not with you for one night, and you have some nut convincing you—God, Rose! You’re too—too—”
I take a step back. “Too what?”
“Too—too—passionate!”
What? “Is that even an insult?”
“Ya know what? It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you seeing this, this, person anymore.”
Gunner and my confusing relationship are both getting cleared up here and now. “You are not my father.”
“No, but I’m the closest thing you have to one.”
“Well, doesn’t that make our sexual relations a little twisted?”
“Maybe so, but this punk sounds even more so. Therefore, I-I forbid it, Rose.”
“You forbid it? What am I, twelve? You—Gunner—have you heard a word that has come out of my mouth?”
“I think—”
“I think you should leave. I’m done with your opinions.”
>
“Rose! This is crazy!”
“Now I’m crazy?”
“No, I said this is crazy.”
“Same difference.”
“Not so much.”
“I can’t believe you’re being like this. I turn to you because I need you.”
Gunner’s shoulders slump. “Jesus. Rose—”
But I’m done with Gunner Hayes for the day. “No. Leave.”
His temper flares again. “You’re being impossible.” I guess Warrior elves do not like to be dismissed.
“Crazy, too passionate, ridiculous, nuts, and impossible. Any other insults before you choose to walk out my door?”
“Oh great! You’re keeping track of every word?”
“Can’t throw missiles and not be responsible for where they land.”
“For the record, you said that you were nuts. Not me.”
My best friend leaves.
One of the biggest events of my life takes place, and I’m alone in it.
After a shower, I march into the woods, still steaming over Gunner’s behavior. I feel like ignited dynamite. Pacing on top of crunching leaves, I replay our argument over and over in my head. I can’t be sure if it’s all Gunner’s fault, but I feel like urges and unknown needs are festering to the surface. Waters that used to be calm and clear are now enduring a storm. The storm of questionable life.
That life is headed right for me, and if I didn’t believe in God before, I sure do now. Ryder has on tan cargo pants and sandals that I know you can’t buy from a store. His bare chest and biceps with his leather straps holding his knives glisten with sweat. Ryder’s long hair is in a ponytail, along with his two white braids, exposing the shaved sides that I perversely want to lick. He’s sporting a smile that vibrates through my soul and dissipates my anger. The sight of this natural creature possesses me in a very yummy fashion.
I think of Gunner and blurt out, “Too passionate? What does that even mean?”
Ryder slows, cautiously stepping into my internal war. “Too passionate?”
I can’t help smiling at his beauty. “Just, answer the question, please.”
He stops walking. “No.”
That answer shocks me, and to be honest, attracts me even more. “No?”
His chin lifts. “Correct.”
I stare at his flexing chest. “Why?”
“Because I do not have an answer. Words are not to be thrown around at random.”
I shake my head. The. Perfect. Answer. “If I am crazy and have made you up in my head, I sure know what I’m doing.”
He smiles, walking toward me again. “Or the fates do. Want to tell me what has brought on this frustration?” He inhales, smelling me as he approaches. “Gunner.” He smirks. “I guess I get to enjoy the mood he put you in?” I say nothing. I can’t with Ryder getting so close. My body begins to shift inside. Ryder’s hands touch my shoulders. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I can’t seem to think straight—” My head spins.
Ryder catches me as I fall backward. “Rose!”
“Just… a little… woozy,” I say, trying to calm him, even though I’m completely out of control of my body.
“Sit. Let’s just take a minute.” Ryder helps me to the ground. “Please don’t take this wrong, but did that male hurt you?”
Sitting, I try to pull my head back together. “Only my feelings. Gunner would never hurt a woman, and that’s not blinded talk. He’s incapable of it. A guy? He’s a country boy and likes to rumble. Now that I think of it, though, Gunner is usually even more frustrated after a fight than before.”
“With no worthy opponent, I’m sure he is. I did not think he would hurt you, but I would have believed you if you said he did.”
Lying in Ryder’s arms, I gaze up at him. “See? That’s all I asked of Gunner. What makes you believe me when that idiot has known me all his life.”
Ryder’s low voice rumbles. “Can’t answer for Gunner, but for me, I see that you are smart. Therefore, I respect and value your opinion.” Ryder is vibrant and so full of respect for life it amazes me. I guess you could say he is too passionate, which makes him ideal for me. Ryder worriedly inspects me. “How do you feel now?”
“Uh, seem to be fine. It’s just been a little challenging to keep my thoughts straight.”
“A lot has transpired in the last twenty-four hours, huh?” Leaning against a tree, he delicately sits behind me, propping my body against his chest, making me more comfortable.
“Yes. Ryder, thank you for hearing me when I speak.”
Pushing all my hair to my right shoulder, he says, “Of course. May I ask what caused the argument?”
“You. But I didn’t tell him about… well, him. You didn’t say I couldn’t tell him about you.”
“And the fates mate me with a stubborn one.”
“That’s a compliment, right?”
He kisses me. “My mother must be above laughing because she always said I was a stubborn young.”
“I’m going with compliment so, thank you, but he doesn’t believe me anyway.”
Ryder chuckles, kissing my forehead as if he missed me. “Do you blame him?”
“Yes. Of course I do.”
“Huh.”
“What? Do you blame me for blaming him?” I stop to listen to myself for the second time today. I throw my palms over my face in embarrassment. “I just told Gunner that I have feelings for an elf and was irate that he didn’t believe me.”
Ryder shrugs. “Not judging but…”
“But I owe someone an apology?”
“Rose, I’ve seen what Gunner means to you and believe he is needed in your life. Of course this news about me is a bit questionable to him. That’s why we have to ease him into what he is. Do you understand my meaning now?”
It dawns on me how much Ryder might have witnessed as he guarded. “How much do you know about… Gunner and me?”
“I know that I’m so thankful for his existence. He and his actions are a part of Rose surviving. Forever will I be grateful.”
Maybe there’s no need for any further humiliations. Maybe he wasn’t guarding me the night Gunner and I—
“But I suspect you are speaking of your mating with Gunner?”
My hands immediately cover my face. “You saw? Did your friends—this is so—”
“Rose, be at ease.”
“But you must think I’m some sort of tramp!”
“I don’t really know what a tramp is, but please cease hiding your face.” He pulls my hands down. I turn to hide in his chest. Ryder leans his head to mine. “Never regret actions committed with nothing but love in your heart. You have committed no malice in my eyes.”
There’s such an honesty with Ryder’s words. And even with so many difficulties in my situation—danger, unanswered questions—at a moment like this, Ryder gives me so much emotional freedom. Freedom from guilt and judgment. I didn’t know how much I cared about someone’s opinion of me until Ryder chose to not have one.
I finally peer up at him. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Rose, you and I have Linked. Immeasurable bond. Yes. I am okay. Now enliven your energy matrix.”
“Do what to my… huh?”
He chuckles. His lips touch mine, and I forget what I’m so upset about. We sit quietly. It feels effortless to not have to talk. Ryder gives me much needed patience and time to regroup. “I feel better.”
I know. I can feel you.
Ryder talking to me in such a magical, private way feels so incredible that I become putty in his hands. Truthful words come from my heart, You’re becoming my world.
He tightens his hold around me. You have been mine.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryder
Having to always be on guard, responsible, preparing for leadership is exhausting at times. Being aggressive and ready to fight for others’ lives is a pressure most cannot comprehend. So when I get to sit in the woods and not have to fight, be under a tree, not killing, and enjoy simple moments with Rose in my arms, I easily get engulfed by every syllable she utters. “So it’s called phlegm?”
I burst out laughing, feeling more relaxed than I can recall. “Not the mucus you cough up. S-k-fen. That is what we call the transfer of thoughts. English definition is Reflecting.” I get overly excited and squeeze her.
Rose yelps. “Easy, elf on steroids.”
And there it was. No fear, judgment, or irritation about my strength that escapes me at times. Just a joke with light words to remind me to be gentle. I inhale deeply, knowing Rose is exactly what I need to find peace with my overwhelming responsibilities that will only intensify over time with my involvement with the Prophecy. It is hard to remember she is the Prophecy.
As we practice Reflecting, our fingers keep intertwining. Her pale, slender fingers contrasting with my thick, fighting hands remind of balance. Morning Star was right. Release the pain of what I don’t have, to allow room for movement—the new to enter my life. And here I sit. Peacefully.
Rose tells me about her parents before her father passed. They sound like they were solid role models of love and communication. Rose tears up as she speaks of her father and what a loss his death was to her world. She tries to get me to talk about my mother but doesn’t push when I shun the subject.
Her laugh is contagious. I find myself following with laughter of my own, whether what she has to say is funny or not. Rose is strong with a hint of silly rolled up in a very intelligent package of wits. I don’t want my time with her to end, but when I sense the sun getting ready to depart, it’s time to hunker down and watch over Rose.
Parker skfens, I spoke with Isolde. You may have your Rose.
Rain (Stranger in the Woods Book 1) Page 16