Moonlight and Magic

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Moonlight and Magic Page 9

by Rebecca Paisley

“Oh, Sterling, hurry!” she pleaded. “A wall of the barn is caving in, and Pegasus is making such a ruckus, I’m afraid the whole building is going to collapse! It’s too dangerous for me, and besides, peril is a knight’s business!” With that, she raced back toward the cabin.

  Before Sterling could inform her that he had no intention of being her knight or ever getting near that humpbacked brute again, she was gone. “Tell him to put on his wings and fly out!” he called after her.

  “You are going to help Pegasus, aren’t you, Sterling?” Archibald asked. “She loves that camel with her whole heart, you know.”

  “If only the camel loved me in the same way,” Sterling complained, and urged Gus forward.

  “Qui desmadre,” Sterling swore as he studied the situation with the barn. Just as Chimera said, one wall was caved in. Another wall was groaning and cracking. Sterling decided the structure was still standing only because heaven decreed it should be so. “Que desmadre,” he cursed again.

  “Que desmadre yourself into that barn and get Pegasus!” Chimera commanded.

  Sterling bent his head and chuckled. “Que desmadre means ‘what a damn mess.’ You want me to ‘what a damn mess’ myself into the barn?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what it means, just—”

  “All right, all right.” Cautiously, he stepped into the barn. “Easy, Pegasus, “ he cooed to the nervous, stomping animal. “Easy, easy, you damn, bloodthirsty—”

  He never finished his name-calling. Pegasus lunged, his long yellow teeth bared. “Hijo de la—! Son of a bitch!” Sterling thundered, and raced out of the barn. “Just how the bell am I supposed to save him when he won’t even let me get near him, Chimera?”

  She groaned before she raised her arms, closed her eyes, and began to sway. “Give him courage, give him strength...and make him a hero when I count to zero!” Hesitantly, she opened one eye and gave Sterling a sideways glance. “Zero!”

  Sterling folded his arms across his chest.

  Frowning, Chimera closed her eye again. “Levite, bobwhite, snakebite, fight! Eye of termite...come forth my knight!”

  Sterling careened around the yard with his laughter, and it was a long while before he got hold of himself. “Chimera,” he chortled, ignoring her look of fury, “this is the nineteenth century. Those days of yore...of knights, fire-breathing dragons, and ladies fair are over.”

  “I fail to see what difference the century makes,” she snapped. “To a true knight, the year would have no bearing on—”

  “And this is not Camelot. That shack of yours is no castle. Knights are supposed to have white horses, and Gus is gray. For armor, I’m wearing yellow trousers several sizes too small and a fringed shawl. The closest thing to a dragon around here is Pegasus, and as for a lady fair...”

  His voice trailed off as he concentrated on her beauty. As had happened that morning, desire seized him quickly and savagely. Grinning, he took her hand, bent, and kissed it lightly. “Well, here is where the fairy tale becomes reality. You are a lady fair, Chimera. A lunatic lady fair, but a lady fair all the same.”

  She blushed. Sterling could be so romantic, she mused. And he could be such a sarcastic cad. She didn’t know whether to smile at him or slap him. “Sterling—”

  Her words were drowned out by the thunderous sound of hoofbeats. Sterling whirled, and even before he’d fully faced the man riding into the yard, his revolvers were in his hands. He had not a second to think, not a moment to waste, but only raised his Colts and fired at the man whose rifle was pointed directly at him. The man fell, his body crumbling into a twisted, bloody heap.

  “Chimera, get the children!” he shouted when he saw two of the triplets emerge from the woods, another galloping horse chasing them down.

  The small boys scattered as Chimera rushed toward them. “Snig! Snag! Sweet heaven, where’s Snug!” She started toward the forest to look for him but stopped short as the huge bay that had been chasing the boys bore down on her, its rider leaning to grab her. She turned to run, but the man caught her long hair. Twisting it around his hand, he yanked viciously, causing her to lose her balance and stumble.

  Sterling was already running to her aid, his pistol aimed at her attacker, when a third horse came flying toward him. Sterling only had time to see the rider’s stark white streak of hair before the man pitched himself from the saddle. As Willard crashed into Sterling, the impact sent both men’s guns sliding out of reach. In a deadly embrace, they rolled on the ground, each receiving well-aimed punches, each groaning in mm. “Archibald!” Sterling managed to yell when he saw the wide-eyed boy standing nearby. “Get the dead man’s gun and shoot!”

  But Archibald just stood rooted to the ground, watching as the man who had Chimera continued to jerk her around the yard by her hair. His mouth opened in a silent scream as her shrieks of pain tore into him, but his horror kept him from obeying his desire to go to her aid. He could do nothing but stand there and witness her anguish.

  “Dammit, Archibald!” Sterling shouted, then granted when Willard landed a sharp blow to his chin. The too-tight trousers he was wearing were making it extremely difficult to maneuver himself, and he struggled with both his attacker and his legs until the pants slid from beneath the shawl still tied tightly around his waist. Deftly, he kicked them off and managed another look at Archibald. “Archibald, get the gun! Don’t be afraid!”

  Suddenly, Snig and Snag charged out of the cabin, where they’d taken temporary refuge. Their small hands were balled as they fled toward the man who had Chimera. But when they reached his horse, instead of grabbing the bridle, they opened their fists and blew upon their palms, their breaths hitting the horse’s nostrils.

  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 punching 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 whirled toward the woods but stopped abruptly when she saw the missing youngster come speeding from the thicket. In his hands was 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 permeated his nostrils, 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 sound coming from the woods was gagging noises.

  “He’s throwin’ up,” Snig announced, and smiled triumphantly.

  “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, boys. 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 crashed as half of the barn roof collapsed to the ground. They were now completely enclosed by Mien wood.

  “Sterling!” he heard Chimera yell.

  “We’re all right,” he assured her, panting.

  “Come out of there this very minute!”

  “Oh, sure!” he shouted, and 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. In spite of the fact that the rest of the roof was going to collapse. 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 swore quietly.

  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’ solidly built 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,” she scolded him.

  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 fuchsia skirt, complete 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 suspicions 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. Again, desire besieged him instantly.

  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.”

  Chapter Five

  “You don’t feel even the tiniest bit uneasy wearing those?” Chimera asked Sterling when he emerged from the bedroom dressed in the dead thug’s buckskin breeches.

  “No, and why are you making me a purple shirt?” he queried, eyeing the bright fabric spread over her lap. “I realize you and the children enjoy wearing those blinding colors, but I prefer normal colors.”

  “Normal? What colors are normal?”

  “Well, you know—white, beige, tan—”

  “Oh, you mean boring colors: I’m sorry, I don’t have any cloth like that. I only have what Xenia left to me. There’s a trunk fairly bursting with fabrics of vivacious colors. She so enjoyed them. It
must have been the gypsy influence. Not that gypsies are the only ones in the world who like bright colors. Mexicans do, too. I know because one time I saw a Mexican wearing a blanket that had at least twenty colors in it. Of course, I don’t guess nationality really matters at all, do you? Anyway, I think this purple shirt will be quite nice on you. Sterling, what if that dead man’s spirit comes back for his pants?”

  He rolled his eyes and moaned inwardly. He was going to wear a purple shirt. She’d probably make him some orange trousers to go with it. “I don’t imagine he’s in need of clothes, as hot as it is where he went. Snig, get away from the damn fire!” he yelled at the triplet who was poking the flames.

  “I’m Snag, and how come you get to cuss and we don’t?”

  Snag’s question, though sarcastically asked, pleased Sterling. The boy was questioning authority, but his question proved he accepted Sterling as just that—authority. “I’m a grown-up. When you get to be as big as I am, you can cuss until your tongue turns black and falls off. Now go to bed. All of you. Archibald, I’ve moved your cot into the triplets’ room. You’ll sleep there from now on, and I’ll make a pallet out here.”

  Archibald, Snug, and Snag left to do as Sterling ordered. But Snig took a seat at the table and glared at the man he considered an intruder. “It ain’t even all the way dark yet. I ain’t goin’ to bed till it’s—”

  “You’ll go now or I’ll go outside and build a damn woodshed to take you to!”

  Chimera looked up from the shirt she was sewing, her eyes widening as she watched Snig get up and do as Sterling bade him. She felt glad that Snig had obeyed, but she hoped his little feelings weren’t hurt. “Are you really going to build a woodshed?”

  Sterling didn’t hear her. He was staring at the ceiling, concentrating on the cracks and holes in it.

  Seeing his preoccupation, Chimera moved her gaze down his dark, powerful length. He stood unmoving; he made not a sound. But oh, how his body spoke to her. It was as if each of his muscles, every pan of him was a page in a book. Her eyes caressed the descriptive words she saw engraved upon them, then rested upon his long, brown fingers.

 

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