01 Do You Believe in Magic - The Children of Merlin

by Susan Squires

  In the kitchen, Mrs. Tremaine waved to her from the middle of a hive of staff in chefs’ gear or servers’ uniforms. “I do hope we didn’t wake you, dear,” she called.

  Maggie blinked and shook her head. If only they had. About five hours ago.

  Mrs. Tremaine took a plate from the oven and beckoned Maggie to the bar where she and Tris had sat last night. “I saved a breakfast for you.” The plate was heaped with bacon and scrambled eggs and a big, home-baked muffin of some kind.

  “I ... I should be getting on the road, ma’am. I didn’t mean to sleep this late.”

  “You must have needed it. Tris was tired too. Haven’t heard boo from him this morning.”

  Maggie felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair.

  Mrs. Tremaine blinked twice and murmured, “Such a long drive yesterday.”

  “Yes. A real long drive,” Maggie managed. She swallowed. “Which is why I’d better be loading my horses. It was very kind of you to save me breakfast.”

  “Which is why it would be so nice if you would eat it,” Mrs. Tremaine smiled. So that’s where Tris got his irresistible smile. How could she be rude to the woman?

  She ducked her head and slid onto the stool. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” She glanced to the bustle around her. “Spring cleaning?”

  “Dear me, no,” Mrs. Tremaine laughed. “My birthday party is tonight and Brian won’t let me lift a finger in preparation myself. So on the day, he hires cleaners and caterers and decorators and wait staff, and they all come in at once. I’m not sure it isn’t more work that way, but I’d never tell him that.”

  “Oh, happy birthday then, Mrs. Tremaine.”

  “She’s fifty.” Lanyon’s voice sounded from behind her. “It’s a big deal.”

  “It is not, wretched boy,” Mrs. Tremaine snapped. “And you don’t have to go telling every soul within shouting distance my age.”

  “Ah,” the boy said wisely, sliding onto a stool beside Maggie and laying his flute on the bar. “Why should it matter if it’s not a big deal?”

  Mrs. Tremaine threw up her hands. “I have no time to bandy words with you.” She turned to some wait staff dressed in crisp black and white. “Those go on the terrace,” she ordered a guy holding a stack of warming pans. She followed him outside.

  Lanyon grinned. “Women,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  “And you’re so worldly wise, you know all about them,” Maggie said, surveying the heaping plate. She’d never be able to eat half of what was on it.

  “Maybe not. But I will be,” Lanyon said with a smirk.

  Probably true. Maggie took a forkful of eggs. “Just like your wayward brother.”

  “Tris? Oh yeah. Tris cuts a swath. You should see the starlets he’s dated.” Lanyon shook his head with an admiring grin. “The last one was that girl in the movie with the robots. Wow. She was sure a looker.” He picked up his flute and blew a few notes that sounded like they came from a swelling movie score.

  A looker. As Maggie was not. Maggie was just some interlude before Tris moved on. No telling why he’d appeared last night in the library. Best to just get over it. She could do that. Starting now. “Well, he’s back, so he can start in where he left off.” Did that sound bitchy? She couldn’t help it. Her headache was getting worse.

  Lanyon didn’t seem to notice. “Whatever he does is okay by me. As long as he came home for Mom’s birthday,” he amended. “She would have been really disappointed if he hadn’t. You going to eat that muffin?”

  “It’s yours.” The flute was exchanged for the muffin.

  “For an older brother Tris isn’t bad. Way better than Mr. Know-it-all Kemble.” The muffin was rapidly disappearing.

  Devin came in from the back kitchen door, barefoot and still in a wetsuit. His blond hair was dark and spiky-wet.

  “How were the waves?” Lanyon asked.

  “Nothing special. Hi, Maggie. Five-foot swell is due tomorrow though.”

  Maggie waved a fork in greeting since her mouth was full.

  “Where’s Tris?” Devin asked.

  “Still asleep,” Lanyon said, not caring that his mouth was full of muffin.

  “You’re kidding, in all this noise?”

  Lanyon shrugged. “Must have had a hard night.”

  Maggie felt the flush and knew she was bright red. She bent to her plate. What a disaster.

  “Did he now?” Uh-oh. She knew that voice.

  Maggie glanced up to see Kemble examining her blush and Drew glancing discreetly away. Thank goodness their attention was claimed by Tammy, who came bouncing through the back door dressed in boots and riding breeches, already talking a mile a minute.

  “Kemble, she’s perfect. Did you know she was long-listed for the Olympic team in ’96?”

  “That’s why Father picked her,” Kemble said. “Plus Hilda swears she doesn’t yell.”

  “I can’t believe he arranged a lesson so soon.” Tammy glowed with happiness the way only a fourteen-year-old can. “Daddy is such a dear. And it’s so lucky she had time this morning.” Mr. Tremaine as “Daddy” was still hard for Maggie to imagine. But Tammy thought of him that way. That was a good thing. “Mrs. Fletcher said Cally was very talented, Maggie. She says I can have lessons once a week. She’ll even come here, so I don’t have to trailer.”

  What did it cost to get a top-notch dressage teacher to drop everything and give you lessons at your private riding ring? “That sounds great.” She couldn’t begrudge Tammy the joy of learning to ride well.

  “When I learn to drive, I can go anywhere, but until then....”

  “Until then she has to impose on one of us,” Devin said, taunting. Tammy stuck her tongue out at him. “And be nice,” he returned pointedly.

  “Personally, I dread the day you can drive,” Drew said, reaching for an apple from the bowl on the bar. “The world has no idea what it’s in for.” She looked around the kitchen as the help whipped and mixed and set out trays. “I don’t know why Mother doesn’t just leave them to it. They know what to do. She always works too hard, no matter what Father does.”

  Mrs. Tremaine came in from the backyard with an armload of cut flowers followed by Jane with another. There’d not been time for Mrs. Tremaine to have cut the beautiful blooms (gladiolas? foxglove? among others, and roses). Jane must have been the harvester. She appeared to practically live here, though she hadn’t said much of anything at dinner last night. She was kind of like wallpaper. You didn’t notice it until you were specifically looking for it.

  Maggie pushed her plate away. Lanyon commandeered her last two slices of bacon shamelessly. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Tremaine.” She had to raise her voice over the vacuum in the living room and the floor waxer in the foyer. “Guess I’ll be loading up now.”

  Mrs. Tremaine descended upon her gathered brood and Maggie with a purposeful look in her eye. Several workers squeezed past the cluster of Tremaines. “I just can’t in good conscience let you run off when I know by the time you deliver your horses, you’ll be driving until midnight to get home.” Maggie started to protest that she was used to it, but she didn’t get a chance. “So I’m officially inviting you to my birthday party tonight. You can deliver your horses this afternoon then drive back tomorrow. And before you say anything, I’d like to remind you that it would be very rude to refuse an invitation to an event which is so important to me.”

  Maggie shut her mouth. She couldn’t stay another night. Not with Tris in the house. And yet that’s just what she wanted to do more than anything else in the world. This was so bad.

  “Oh, please say you will,” Tammy begged. “And maybe you need some company out to the riding camp? I could help you load and unload.”

  “Excellent idea,” Mrs. Tremaine interrupted, stemming Tammy’s flow. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you all go and get out from underfoot here?”

  “Mrs. Tremaine,” Maggie said, wincing as her stomach clenched and her joints protested, “I can’t stay. I h
ave stock at home to take care of.”

  “How are they being cared for now?” Mrs. Tremaine laid her flowers on the kitchen side of the bar and pushed her way through her children to stand in front of Maggie.

  “A local high school kid....”

  “Give me his name and I’ll call him for you,” Kemble sighed. He sounded as if he knew Maggie would give in. But she couldn’t give in. That way lay madness. The ripple of pain that shot through her made her grimace.

  Mrs. Tremaine examined Maggie. Her expression went from worried to kind. Her eyes were almost mesmerizing. “I think staying is a very good idea.” She put a hand on Maggie’s shoulder. Maggie felt energy pouring into her and out of her in some strange exchange. She gasped in surprise. Mrs. Tremaine’s eyes opened wide for a moment, then her hand gripped Maggie’s shoulder more firmly. Maggie blinked, dazed, as the hurt in her stomach and her joints melted away. Even her bruised cheek stopped its low-level throbbing. Mrs. Tremaine’s breathing grew a little ragged. Then she let go.

  Maggie felt good. Calm and sure and healthy and ... right.

  Mrs. Tremaine swallowed and gave a wobbly smile. “There,” she said as if it were decided.

  Maybe it was decided. Everyone acted as though it was.

  Tammy raced out the French doors, yelling, “I’ll meet you at the barn.”

  “What does one wear to a camp for disabled children?” Drew mused. “Coming with us, brother dear?”

  “Yes,” Kemble said with decision. “I believe I will go.”

  “Go where?”

  Maggie felt a shiver slide down her spine. She turned. And there he was, naked from the waist up, his tattoos winding over his muscles. He was gorgeous with his tousled black hair and those sleepy-looking green eyes. He looked ... sated.

  Oh, dear. Between them both oversleeping, her blushes, and his “just screwed my eyes out” look, his family must have no doubt what had been going on last night.

  *****

  When Tris realized he might have missed Maggie, he’d pulled on some shorts, hastily strapped on the cast, and emerged from his room at the back at an awkward lope. The chatter of objections running through his mind couldn’t stop his panic that he might not see her again.

  But here she was. He was vaguely aware that his family surrounded her but he couldn’t take his eyes off Maggie to acknowledge them. God, but she was beautiful. Her skin glowed. Her gray-green eyes had depths he’d never seen in eyes, no matter how many he’d gazed into before. Memories of their lovemaking last night washed over him like one of Devin’s waves: the way her hair looked loose over her shoulders, the feel of her breasts against his bare chest, the way her lips swelled a little from kissing. She was passionate and tender and generous, and....

  “Yes,” Kemble was saying. “I believe I will go.” Kemble’s gaze rested on Maggie, too, Tris realized, even as all those thoughts of Maggie took their inevitable toll on his own body.

  “Go where?” Tris frowned.

  “We’re all going out to help Maggie deliver her horses,” Devin said.

  “A kind of adventure,” Lanyon added. “Since around here adventure is hard to come by.”

  “Actually, I’d like to get you all out of the house while Jane and I manage for tonight,” his mother said with a smile. She was looking strangely at Maggie, too. What was happening here? “Then Maggie is going to join us for the party tonight.”

  Relief welled up in Tris from someplace he didn’t know he possessed.

  She was staying. At least for one more night.

  “Well, then. Disabled children’s camp, it is,” Tris said.

  “You’d better stay and rest your injuries,” Kemble said with a pointed look at Tris’s badly strapped-on cast.

  “There ought to be one adult along. Maggie shouldn’t have to babysit the Brood.”

  “I’ll be there. I’m probably more qualified for the job of adult than you are.” Kemble didn’t actually sneer, but he was at his most supercilious. Damn it if he wasn’t looking at Maggie again. Tris felt his throat constrict.

  “Don’t you have a country to strip-mine or something?” Tris growled.

  “Boys, boys,” his mother said. “You’re both going. So is Drew. Don’t make her play referee, or she and Maggie will be the only ones there who can claim to be adults. Now, out with you all.” She made shushing motions with her hands. “Jane and I have work to do.” She gave Maggie an enigmatic smile, picked up an armload of flowers from the bar, and took them over to where Jane was assembling arrangements in vases.

  “I can’t drive, so I’ll ride with Maggie,” Tris announced. “You can take the Brood in the SUV, Kemble.”

  “Drew can drive the Brood.” Kemble waved a hand dismissively at his family. The Prince of Wales at his most annoying. “I’ll ride with Maggie.”

  “I’ll go get Kee. She’s painting in the garden.” Devin spun and ran for the door.

  “Might want to change out of your wetsuit,” Drew called after him.

  “I’ll meet you in the drive after the horses are loaded,” Kemble ordered. “I have a few things to take care of. Name and location of high school kid?”

  “Bobby Thompson. He lives in Austin, Nevada.”

  “Noted.” Kemble turned and disappeared into his office.

  Lanyon grabbed his flute and took off at a run. “Thank you,” Maggie called after Kemble. She got a salute, but he didn’t turn.

  Maggie gave Tris a glance that made his loins throb, and mumbled something about getting the horses loaded as she headed out to the front drive.

  Which left Tris and Drew both staring after her.

  “Well done, Tris,” Drew said, breaking his concentration.

  “What do you mean, ‘well done’?” Tris mustered up a glower. If she knew that he’d made love to Maggie in the library last night ... but she couldn’t know that. If she was chastising him for coming out half-dressed, she could just shove it. Apparently he’d only been just in time to keep Kemble from making an outright pass at Maggie.

  “Don’t get your dander up, as they say in cowboy-land,” Drew sniffed. “I was serious. She’s much better than your usual fare. She might actually do you some good. If that’s possible.”

  “You’re as bad as Mother. Always matchmaking. Apparently it’s gotten so desperate you’ll even take someone who isn’t magic.”

  “None of us kids are magic, yet. And you never know how things will work out.”

  “Well, no one should worry. She’s leaving tomorrow.” And he only had one more day with her. The feeling that shot through him was a lot like pain. But at least he had one more day. And one more night. The pain subsided, replaced with thoughts of what tonight might bring.

  He turned back to his bedroom to get more suitably dressed. He was not going to let Kemble even think about trying to get Maggie for himself.

  And he had to figure out where he could get some condoms.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  With the bucket seats, only one of the Tremaine brothers could ride with the horses. Kemble aced out Tris by waiting until Tris was helping load the lunch basket which had magically appeared, courtesy of Mr. Nakamura, into the back of the Highlander Hybrid with Lanyon, who had to squeeze into the cargo area.

  Kemble slid into the truck and motioned Maggie to put it in gear.

  Maggie shrugged. Tris clearly thought Kemble was trying to ace him out for more than the seat in the truck. That was kind of ... sweet. Trying to trade Kemble out for Tris would only put more bad blood between them. So she eased the trailer up the drive, watching Tris’s look of dismay and frustration recede in the rearview mirror. “Did you get hold of Bobby?” she asked.

  “Yes. He’ll take care of the stock until further notice. Though he expects his regular daily rate. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

  “No. That’s fine.” Her profit on the mustangs, slim to begin with, was now slimmer.

  “Good.” There was a long silence, broken only by Kemble’s directi
ons on the route. As they pulled onto the freeway, Kemble looked into the rearview mirror and chuckled. “Going fifty in the slow lane will drive my sister over the brink.”

  “She got a lead foot?”

  “She drives a Maserati.”

  “She and Tris have that in common. He was driving some kickass bike in Nevada.”

  “I was surprised when he bought this truck. A reward for services rendered?”

  If Maggie hadn’t been driving she might have slapped him, which would have been a mistake, since it dawned on her that he probably meant in exchange for taking him into the ER or the ride to LA. She chose to believe that anyway. “No,” she laughed, “this baby still belongs to him. We left my truck at the dealership in Fallon. It didn’t have bucket seats.”

  “Ah. And he couldn’t stretch out his leg.”

  “Unless I sat on the edge of the seat to drive.”

  “So he bought a new truck.” Kemble thought about that for a minute. “I’m surprised he didn’t get one of the new diesels.”

  “Not sure why he didn’t. Salesman offered him a Toyota Tacoma. Couldn’t have been more than a couple years old.”

  “What year is yours?”

  “Seventy. Ford.”

  She saw Kemble nod to himself out of the corner of her eye. He tried to make conversation about where she lived, how far out of Austin, did she have folks.

  “Father,” she said curtly, and shut up.

  He waited a minute, obviously frustrated that she wouldn’t open up about herself. Then he said, deliberately, “Elroy O’Brian.”

  Maggie blinked at the traffic ahead. Well, there it was. The gauntlet. He wouldn’t know Elroy’s name unless he’d been doing some digging. That’s what this was all about. He had no interest in Maggie herself, no matter what Tris thought. “So why even ask questions when you already know?” This was making her angrier by the minute. “How much do you know, anyway?”

  Kemble shrugged. “People don’t realize how much information is available on them. I know how much the mortgage on the land is, and that you co-signed. He has no visible means of support and a diagnosis of cirrhosis, so I assume the mortgage money went to pay medical bills. He gets his medical care in Ely, except for some specialist visits in Reno. He has an account at the local store, where he mainly seems to buy liquor. You pay the bills there as well as the mortgage. You’ve been buying and selling horses for good prices, especially for that rural area, but you still need the rodeo purses, so you’ve been entering as many as you can. You have a cell phone, but you only make emergency calls or calls related to your horse customers. You don’t have electricity, at least from a public utility. You get propane delivered infrequently and in small amounts. You keep a card for the library in Ely and the one in Fallon.”