“I’ll be fine,” he said.
Janie made a scoffing sound, but it was a kind one. Then she sighed and continued, “I also want to make sure you’re going to vote for Clint in the special election next week. Believe it or not, some are actually planning to vote for Harry! As if a Milhouse would ever make a decent mayor. Who wants a werewolf as mayor?”
Apparently a Bigfoot shifter was a cut above the werewolves. “Of course I’ll vote for Maxwell.” Not for the first time, he suffered a moment of envy. When Marnie Somerset had found out what Clint truly was, she’d accepted him. Loved him. She’d stayed.
“Don’t you forget,” Janie said.
“How could I?”
“I didn’t always like Clint,” Janie mused. “Jenna’s grandmother Viola and I were great friends, rest her soul. Naturally Viola loved her granddaughter and blamed Clint for everything, but…” Janie glanced away and sighed. “I judged too quickly and harshly, I know that now.”
Janie didn’t rise, even though she’d been assured that Queenie was fine and she’d accomplished her goal of warning him away from Gabi. “Besides, the lot where Alice’s house once stood is still an eyesore, though the city has made efforts to clean it up as much as possible. Clint says I can turn the plot into a neighborhood garden when it warms up a bit. I told him I didn’t really need to wait for warmer weather, but he seemed insistent. I think he’s worried that if Harry wins the election he’d just tear it all down.”
“Why would he?”
“He’s a Milhouse. That’s reason enough for his obstinance.”
Silas offered Janie a helping hand, and she took it, steadying herself as she rose to her feet. “Do be careful with Gabi,” she added as he saw her to the small waiting room and then to the door. “We… I don’t want you to be hurt, and I don’t think she’ll be around much longer. You know how some Non-Springers are. Here today, gone tomorrow.”
It was true, the few strangers who wandered into town rarely stayed long. Now and then they’d fit in, maybe even marry as Marnie and Cindy and a couple of others had. But for the most part, those who wandered in eventually wandered out.
It was a surprise to realize that the idea of Gabi moving on bothered Silas. It stuck in the pit of his stomach, and he had the sudden urge to drive downtown just to make sure she was where she was supposed to be.
He fought the urge down, and watched as Janie drove that fine automobile away so slowly he was pretty sure she was coasting.
Chapter 5
Gabi was finishing up with Susan Tisdale’s usual haircut when Marnie stuck her head in. “Do you have time for a quick trim?”
Marnie had moved to town last summer, and even though Gabi had been in Mystic Springs for months by that time, she still counted the librarian as her first real friend here. They’d bonded over books, at first. Reading in the evening after Mia went to sleep was a part of Gabi’s normal routine. Marnie had been thrilled to suggest books, when Gabi hadn’t been sure what she wanted. Romance, mysteries, classics. Anything but true crime or horror. She really should read at least one of Clint’s books, but she just couldn’t make herself do it. As far as she was concerned, there was enough horror in real life.
Marnie was much more outgoing than Gabi had ever been, and if she wanted you to be her friend you might as well give in because you would be. Sooner or later.
“Sure. Have a seat. We’re almost done here.”
Marnie sat in one of three chairs in the waiting area. Just past her first trimester, you could hardly tell she was pregnant. The way she rested her hand on her very slightly distended stomach told it all, though.
“How’s the morning sickness?” Susan asked as Gabi spun her around to face the librarian.
“Better.” Marnie frowned. “I never knew being pregnant could change you so much.”
Gabi smiled. “If you think pregnancy changes you, wait until the baby is born.” Becoming a mother had certainly changed her.
“So I hear.”
“It’ll be nice to have a few babies in town,” Susan said. “We’ve had a bit of a drought in that department, but we seem to be making up for it. I never had children of my own, but I do love my nieces and nephews. They’re almost grown, now.”
Like so many Springers, they’d all moved away. Or so Susan had told her. People did tend to talk while they were getting their hair cut, colored, and curled. Kind of like they’d talk to a bartender.
Harry Milhouse was Mystic Springs’ only bartender. There’s no way Gabi would tell that man her secrets or innermost thoughts. What a grump.
Susan paid, said goodbye and waved, and Marnie took her place in the chair. Gabi looked at Marnie’s dark, wavy hair, ruffled it with her fingers, and said, “I just cut your hair two weeks ago and it looks great. Why do you want a trim?”
Marnie pursed her lips, then said, “Okay, I don’t really need a haircut. I just wanted to talk and asking for a cut was my excuse.”
“You don’t need an excuse to talk to me,” Gabi said.
She spun Marnie around, offered a hand, and together they moved back to the chairs intended for waiting customers. The area was rarely used, but Gabi wanted it to be as nice as possible. She didn’t want to spend her money on new chairs, but she had repaired a too-short table leg. One day she’d repaint it and replace the old magazines. She’d added an artificial flower arrangement, which was like putting lipstick on a pig, as well as a couple of pillows for the chairs. The pillows didn’t help much. They added a splash of color, but didn’t make the chairs any more comfortable.
One day, if she had her own business, she’d make it as welcoming and comfy as possible. Here, in a place she could never call her own, she did the best she could.
“I could use a break,” Gabi said as she sat. “Talk away.”
Marnie Maxwell was never at a loss for words. What followed was a fast, wild accounting of her pregnancy to this point, including morning sickness that sometimes lasted well past the morning, occasional cravings for large servings of meat, and a new and weird urge to go hiking in the woods that surrounded her home. Even late at night, or in the pre-dawn hours.
None of that sounded too alarming to Gabi. She’d craved ice cream and french fries. Together. She’d slept twice as much as she ever had before. She hadn’t been compelled to walk in the woods, but maybe in this case that was nothing more than a need for fresh air. Oxygen. The smell of the forest.
Marnie looked as if she had something else to say. She opened her mouth, closed it, pursed her lips and then leaned back in the chair. “I hear you’re going out with Silas tonight.”
“Does everyone in town know?” Gabi asked as she sat straight up in her chair.
“Pretty much,” Marnie said. Then she waggled her eyebrows. “When I set y’all up before, I knew you two would be right for each other. I’m not sure why y’all waited so long for a second date! Even if the first one was less than perfect…”
“Less than perfect?” Gabi interrupted with a laugh. “It was like the universe was warning me that dating was not for me. And let’s be clear, you didn’t set us up, it was an ambush. No wonder we were both so uncomfortable.”
“I should’ve been more subtle, I suppose,” Marnie mused. “But I am glad you two are trying again. And without my assistance!”
“It’s nothing, really,” Gabi said, trying to sound casual. “I got a dog from him, and I think he wants to keep an eye on things to make sure I’m a responsible pet owner.”
“Yeah, right,” Marnie said with a disbelieving tone. “He’s taking you out to dinner in order to check up on the dog.”
She was right. It didn’t make a lot of sense. “Well, Mia and Judge will be with us, so…”
Marnie almost lunged forward in her chair. “No! You can’t take a child and a dog with you. That’s not a date, that’s… I don’t know what that is, but it’s definitely not a proper date.”
Did she want it to be? No. Child and dog would be the perfect buffers. “Cindy ha
s been watching Mia all day. Judge, too, since my child and her bloodhound refuse to be separated. I can’t ask…”
“I’ll babysit,” Marnie interrupted. “I need the practice, and Clint is on deadline and stuck in his office all day, so I can also use the distraction. It seemed like a good idea to hire a part time helper at the library, but there are days when I don’t need any help. Being pregnant makes me feel like I’m constantly on a caffeine drip. I need something to do until Clint finishes this book. Babysitting is the perfect solution.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Gabi said.
Marnie smiled. It was an openly conniving smile on an otherwise cute face. “I’ll stalk you until you say yes.”
It was a tease, a light-hearted jibe, but the very word “stalk” made Gabi’s heart leap.
If she was going to tell anyone what had brought her here, if she was going to spill her secrets to anyone, it would be Marnie.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t do it.
“Fine,” she said. “Be at my house around five.” Silas was going to pick her up at five-thirty, so that would give her time to show Marnie where the diapers and wipes were, time for Mia and Marnie to bond, a bit. And if Mia pitched a fit when it was time for her to leave with Silas, plans could change. She could still take her daughter and their new dog with her on her so-called date.
She might need a distraction of her own.
Gabi’s house didn’t have a garage, just a single car carport. Her white Toyota Camry, which looked to be no more than four years old, had been backed in for some reason. Instead of stopping at the curb Silas pulled into the driveway, parking nose to nose with Gabi’s small, rarely used, car.
It was almost dark but the town was well lit, with street lamps and porch lights. His plan was to walk from here to Eve’s. It wasn’t far. He’d offer to carry Mia. Maybe that way he’d have a chance to probe a bit, to see if he could duplicate that startling, unexpected mine he’d caught from her yesterday.
If she had Springer blood he needed to know.
There were people he could ask. Ginger Paine at the Mystic Springs’ retirement home, known as The Egg to town residents, could likely tell him. She’d once been the most powerful witch in town, but her powers were fading. They’d been fading for years. Several others had abilities that rivaled Ginger’s, but he didn’t know them all that well. He should, but he kept to himself and his dogs, and was close to only a handful of people. The logical solution, from anyone who didn’t know about the isolation spell, would be to wait and see what happened. He didn’t have any idea who else was in on the plan, and he could hardly explain why he needed answers now.
Jenna might be able to tell him. He wasn’t sure exactly how powerful she was, wasn’t sure what her gifts were beyond being capable with spells. But even though he was in on her scheme, for now, he didn’t entirely trust Clint’s ex-wife. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to know about Mia, not until he had a few answers.
Silas stepped out of the truck, ready and mostly willing to collect his date and her daughter. And Judge, of course. He missed the bloodhound, though he’d never admit so aloud. He’d gotten accustomed to having Judge at his side, on runs and as he trained other dogs and worked with all the newer animals, even those who weren’t suited to intensive training.
Asking Gabi to dinner had been his idea, a way to get close to Mia for a bit, but now that the time had arrived he didn’t look forward to eating with a crowd, not even a small one. He loved all his animals, he liked a handful of people, but he also cherished his time alone. He ate alone, slept alone, spent the large majority of his hours in solitude. He liked it that way, which is why he’d always been in favor of closing off the town permanently.
He didn’t need to meet anyone else, didn’t need more friends, didn’t feel the need to leave town for vacation, for a change of scenery or a change of pace. He was at peace here, he liked his life as it was.
If Springers kept leaving town for bigger and better things, if the population continued to dwindle, there wouldn’t be a Mystic Springs left. Things were looking up, with more babies coming, with powerful young people like Felicity Adams and her friends proving what Springers could be, but that might not be enough.
Gabi ruined the initial step of his plans, stepping onto the porch alone and closing the door behind her.
She’d fixed her hair and put on some makeup. She wasn’t dressed up, but the jeans looked new. So did the form-fitting blue sweater. For a split second he forgot why he’d asked her out in the first place.
She met him in the driveway.
“Where’s the kid and the dog?” he asked.
Gabi smiled, for some reason amused by his question. “Marnie insisted on babysitting.”
“Oh.” Well, shit. “That’s nice.” Shit again.
They walked toward Main Street, side by side but not too close. Silas tried to hide his distress. This would still work. After they ate they’d walk back to Gabi’s house, she’d ask him in, he’d get his hands on the kid and then maybe he’d have a clue as to what might be going on with her.
“I love the food at Eve’s,” Gabi said as they passed the police station. “You never know what she’s going to have, but it’s always good. Special. Not just sustenance, but food for the soul. It was weird, when I first moved here. I…” She glanced across the street, then momentarily down at her feet. “Never mind.”
Like all Non-Springers, she would’ve been affected emotionally by her first few meals at Eve’s. The food would’ve ignited emotions of some kind. Good or bad, strong or weak. She would’ve felt something. That wasn’t a conversation he could have with her. It would involve a long explanation she wouldn’t understand.
“She’s a good cook,” he said. “So is her sister.”
Gabi laughed. “Grumpy Ivy?”
“She’s not always grumpy,” Silas said, maybe a little defensively.
Gabi turned her head and looked up at him. “I know. Ivy has her good days, but there are some days I steer well clear. All you have to do is take one look at her face to know which it is.”
Silas laughed, a little. “That’s true enough.”
“She’s the reason I’m here,” Gabi said, sounding as if she was talking to herself. “I stopped there for breakfast, she told me the beauty shop was looking for a stylist, and a year later here I am.”
“I didn’t know that,” he said. “You must’ve caught her on a good day.”
Gabi smiled at that observation. “I must have. What’s her story? Was she always so mercurial?”
Silas hesitated a moment before answering, “Her story is not mine to tell.”
Ivy kept her pain close. It had been more than three years, now, and no one dared to ask the baker about her bad experience with a Non-Springer.
What had happened to Ivy was just one example of why it would be best if Springers kept to themselves, now and always. He wondered if Ivy knew about Jenna’s plans. If she did, she’d probably approve. Her twin, however, would not, and even when they disagreed they didn’t keep secrets from one another. He wasn’t sure they could.
There was a decent sized crowd in Eve’s, as was usual this time of the evening. Everyone in the place turned to look at him and Gabi as they walked through the door. For a long moment they were the object of undisguised curiosity, and then everyone returned to their meals and conversations.
They took a booth near the back, one of the more private options. Gabi eased past him to snag the seat that placed her back to the wall. He preferred a seat where he could see anyone coming, but it wasn’t critical. The way she looked around as she sat, checking out the room, looking at the entrance as if she expected someone to be there, then turning her eyes toward the kitchen door, made him think that for her it was critical.
She’d taken that seat last time they’d been here. He hadn’t thought anything about it at the time, but he’d been distracted, wondering why Clint had insisted on this double date and then backed out at th
e last minute.
Why was Gabi Lawson here? It wasn’t the first time that question had crossed his mind. Circumstances had led her to town, he got that, but why did she stay? She was good at her job and could make a better living almost anywhere else. As she glanced at the entrance again, he knew. She was running from something, or someone. She was hiding in Mystic Springs.
They both ordered the special without even asking what it was. Eve wouldn’t serve them anything they wouldn’t like. He knew that. Gabi had surely learned, but she’d have no idea why. She didn’t seem all that curious about her surroundings.
“Judge and Mia are something else together,” Gabi said as the waitress placed a glass of water in front of her. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You said you’d never had a pet. There can be, should be, a special bond.”
“It happened so fast!” Gabi said, and then she laughed.
The sound of that laugh, the sight of the dark eyes that all but sparkled, made something in Silas tighten. He could like her too much.
He couldn’t tell her that the bond had happened fast because Judge was protecting Mia. From him, most likely.
Their order was delivered. Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and cornbread. They both concentrated on eating for a few minutes. As usual, the food was superb. He watched Gabi, wondering if Eve’s cooking still stirred emotions in her, as it did for all newcomers, or if she’d worked up an immunity. He didn’t know how often she ate here, though her options were Eve’s, Harry’s, or her own cooking.
Her response could take any turn. Sad memories or joyous ones might come to her in a flash. The magic of childhood might live in her again, for a moment or two.
Sure enough, as she ate something changed in her eyes. The laughter was gone. Those golden streaks in her eyes seemed to fade. What he saw on Gabi’s beautiful face and in those haunting eyes, as she set her fork aside, was pure fear.
Beauty and the Beastmaster (Mystic Springs Book 3) Page 6