Moonlight and Magic

by Rebecca Paisley

  “But how we wanted it,” he went on. “When we were younger, we thought it was magic and were sure it was the source of the Reverend Mother’s power over us. Then Father Tom, the American priest who helped out at the orphanage, explained that back in the seventeenth century there was some Italian guy who thought he could turn iron and copper into gold. He experimented with metal bars, sulfate, and coal. He didn’t make gold, but he discovered a substance that glows in the dark.”

  Chimera’s eyes widened with excitement. “I wish I could make something like that,” she said wistfully. “Can you imagine how spooky the cabin would look at night?”

  Sterling chuckled at her fascination. It was just like her to be utterly enthralled with something so bizarre. “The clergy was as delighted as you. They painted crucifixes, holy statues, rosaries, and the like with it. Back then people believed that if they prayed in front of something that glowed, their prayers would be heard and answered faster. I bet that statue is over two hundred years old.” He paused. “If you like it, you can have it.”

  “But you’ve had it for so long! Surely you don’t want to part with it.”

  He laughed. “I’m religious only when I’m in trouble or need an impossible favor. I kept it safely hidden away among my things so Mother Maria Guadalupe wouldn’t make me scrub and pray at the same time. Antonio and Father Tom were the only ones who knew I had it. Antonio, because he kept guard while I filched it, and Father Tom, because my conscience made me confess to him. But since sins told in the confessional can’t be repeated by a priest, Father Tom couldn’t tattle. He—”

  He broke off abruptly when he saw how intently Chimera was listening to him. His eyes widened. It suddenly dawned on him he’d been talking nonstop for nearly five minutes. More than talking, he’d been revealing all the things that were none of her damn business! Why? What was it about the harebrained witch that loosened his tongue? What the hell had she done to him?

  He glared at her, trying to remember who or what had freed his flood of revelations. He couldn’t recall, but remained convinced it had been Chimera, conniving female that she was! Dammit, she was exactly like every woman he’d ever known! “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

  The anger in his eyes startled her. “Clever?”

  “You must be feeling rather smug over tricking me into telling you all those things!”

  “What? But—Sterling, I didn’t do anything! You—”

  “Save the denials! You manipulated me into telling you everything you wanted to know!”

  Chimera responded to his savage stare with a piercing scowl of her own. She whisked toward him, her bright pink skirt swishing around her legs, her sable hair flying behind her. “It goes against my grain to allow people to accuse me of things I didn’t do. When you point your finger at someone, Sterling Montoya, you’d do well to remember that three of your fingers point to yourself. You’re the one who decided to tell me—”

  “You—”

  “Furthermore, I’m not accustomed to manipulating people. I prefer satisfying my curiosity with plain and simple questions.”

  With that, she flounced back to the porch. But before entering the cabin, she looked at the statue still in her hand and turned back to him. “Thank you for this gift, but since you’re so mad at me now, maybe you’d rather give it to your mother. Do you want it back?”

  Sterling’s eyes widened; his mouth fell open. “What?” he roared, his anger escalating to full-blown rage. “How—I didn’t tell you about—she—my mother. Dammit, tell me how you figured that out!”

  She raised her brow. “No. Not until you say you’re sorry for calling me manipulative.”

  For a moment, he thought he’d explode. He stormed toward her, stopping only when his body had pressed her up against the door. “Tell me,” he warned.

  His frame leaning into hers was hot and hard. She couldn’t have escaped even if she wanted to, and she found no desire to try. She raised her hand and let it slide down the warm expanse of his chest.

  Sterling grabbed it and held it tightly. “Chimera—”

  “I’d like an apology first, if you please.” Her fingers curled gently around squeezing ones.

  He’d never known such anger existed. “I’m sorry!” he yelled.

  Satisfied, Chimera smiled at him. “I only put the puzzle together, that’s all. Whenever the subject of the Tucson woman was hinted at by either myself or you, you became apprehensive. That told me the woman was extremely important to you. The thought of her made you scowl, and so did the statue. The statue induced you to confide you were an orphan. You also said you didn’t know enough about the Tucson woman to tell me about her. And yet, you’re fully planning on going to her. What kind of woman, I wondered, could she be to have so much of your interest when you don’t even know her? If you add all that together, what have you got? Your mother.”

  Sterling stared at her in incredulous silence.

  “I know you so much better now than I did a while ago, Sterling,” she continued sweetly, removing her hand from his and reaching up to pat his cheek. “And I’m so glad the mystery woman in Tucson turned out to be your mother. I admit I was jealous of her. And in the words of the great Sir Thomas Browne, ‘Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks.’ What wisdom, don’t you agree?”

  He refused to humor her with as much as a nod.

  She watched him for a long moment before speaking again. “Your silence must mean you’re still angry. Sterling, why does it bother you so much that I know some things about you? I can’t for the life of me understand why you were so reluctant to reveal them in the first place. You acted as though they were dark and horrible secrets, but what’s so terrible about a grown-up orphan looking for his mother? Really, Sterling, your determination to keep so much to yourself confuses me. Why do you do that?”

  He wouldn’t take a breath, much less answer her. Knowing her, she’d even decipher his breathing!

  When he didn’t answer, she sighed. “Very well, my gallant knight. Keep silent. But Rousseau said, ‘An absolute silence leads to sadness; it is the image of death.’”

  How bright her eyes were, he saw. Those brandy orbs seemed to see everything. That in mind, he straightened, folded his arms across his chest to shield himself, and then thought about how silly that action was. She couldn’t really read his heart, his soul. No one could really see the emptiness. He yanked his arms back down.

  “Why, Chimera?” he asked, still hesitant to say more than he absolutely had to. “Why are you so damn interested?”

  She saw the pale silver of his eyes change to stormy gray, and watched as the breeze blew his hair from his shoulders. As her gaze touched his lips, and then slid down his entire body, she felt a sensation of such tenderness that it transcended her body’s reaction to him to rest within her heart. “Because,” she whispered, “I care about you very much.”

  She vanished into the cabin then, but her parting words lingered.

  She cared about him. She was the first woman who’d ever said that. Not even the nuns, as kind as they’d been to him, had spoken those words to him. There were so many orphans. So much work. The sisters couldn’t possibly have given individual attention to everyone. There was simply never enough time.

  And other women...Other women gave him plenty of attention, but only because they wanted something from him. Their care was insincere, all of it.

  But Chimera...

  “Chimera,” he whispered, staring at the cabin door. What did she want from him?

  She’d never, not once, mentioned marriage. And she knew she didn’t have to satisfy him sexually just to keep him here. He’d already promised to stay as long as he could—besides, she believed him to be as inexperienced as she. And she’d never commented on his looks, either, didn’t seem to care one iota about whether he was as handsome as a Greek god or ugly as an old mongrel dog. So what did she want from him?

  “Hey, Sterling!” Snig hollered.

  “
Can we rest now, Sterling?” Snag asked.

  Their questions disrupted his contemplation. He joined them in the yard. “No. Not until you finish.”

  Snug kicked a board. “Why do you always make us work so hand?”

  “Because I’m trying to teach you values. Hard work is good for you, and you’ll be better people if you learn that.”

  Snig frowned. “What’s it matter to you what kind of people we are? Why should you care?”

  “Why?” He could think of only one answer. He dwelled on it for a moment and discovered it made perfect sense. “Because you’re matter-able.”

  His fingers shaking violently, Archibald took Gus’s lead line from Sterling. “I—please don’t make me do this, Sterling,” he begged, and dropped the line.

  “Pick if up,” Sterling ordered brusquely. Archibald’s eyes were glittering with unshed tears, and the sight of them almost choked Sterling with pity. But he had to remain firm. He’d been with Chimera and the children for about a month and a half now, and the only thing he’d ever seen Archibald do was read those medical books of his. It didn’t make sense. No one could be interested in only one single thing. Archibald had to have other interests, but his fears kept him from doing anything except staying in the house and reading. Somehow, someway, Sterling was determined to help Archibald get over as many of those fears as possible.

  And they would start with the boy’s fear of horses. “Pick up the line and lead Gus around the yard. Now.”

  Archibald stared at the leather cord. “Sterling—”

  “Now. Pick it up now.”

  From a few yards away, the triplets watched. “You’re bein’ mean to him!” Snig shouted, and raced to Archibald’s side. “He don’t wanna take your damn horse for a walk!”

  “Yeah!” Snag agreed, and joined Snig and Archibald. “If you want your stupid horse to walk, walk him yourself!”

  “You been gettin’ us to do all the work you’re too lazy to do! “Snug added, as he, too, sidled up beside Archibald. “You were too lazy to build the shed, so you made us do it. Then you didn’t feel like puttin’ the wood in, so we had to do that too. And—”

  “And you didn’t want to haul off the broken-down barn, so we had to do it!” charged Snig.

  Snag nodded vigorously, his red curls bouncing on his freckled forehead. “And now you’re makin’ us saw off all the limbs from those damn trees you cut down!”

  “And as if we aren’t enough slaves for you, you’re makin’ Archibald do your work too!” Snug yelled.

  “Get back to work,” Sterling demanded quietly.

  The softness of his voice didn’t fool the triplets. Anger and deadly impatience lay beneath it, and all three of the boys heard it. Without further argument, they quickly returned to the fallen trees and continued sawing off the slender branches.

  “Pick up the lead line, Archibald,” Sterling repeated.

  A solitary tear dripped off the end of Archibald’s nose. He viciously rubbed his eyes.

  “It’s no shame for a boy to cry,” Sterling said, and thrust a handkerchief into the boy’s hand. “But dammit, Archibald, cry when there’s something to cry about! Right now, you’re wasting your precious tears over something that can be corrected! Cry over things that have no solution! Now pick up that lead line!”

  “W-why?” Archibald sniffled. “Why do you want me to do this?”

  Sterling walked to a hay bale and sat down. Casually, he picked out a long strand of hay and stuck it in his mouth. “Because you don’t want to do it. That’s why.”

  “Because I don’t want to? What purpose will that serve?”

  “We’ll discuss that after you’ve taken Gus for a walk around the yard. Now for the last time, pick up the line.”

  Archibald stared at the cord for a moment and then began to massage his twisted leg. “My leg hurts. I’ve been standing on it for almost an hour. I need to rest it.”

  Sterling examined the boy carefully. “No,” he said finally. “If your leg hurts after less than an hour of standing on it, it’s because it’s weak. Strengthen it, and you’ll be able to use it for longer periods of time.”

  Archibald cast a helpless look at the triplets but knew in his heart they could not come to his aid. They were under Sterling’s command just as he was. He looked toward the cabin, praying he’d see Chimera at the window, but saw nothing there except the jagged crack in the glass.

  “We’ll stay out here all day, all night, all week until you walk Gus, son,” Sterling said.

  Archibald realized he stood no chance of winning this battle of wills. His entire body trembling, he bent and retrieved the line from the ground. Eyes wide, heart hammering, he tugged on it lightly. Gus took a step toward him. “Sterling!”

  “Easy, son, easy,” Sterling said gently, and rose from the hay bale. “You pulled the line, and Gus responded. That’s all. Now walk him around. Stay by his side, and he’ll walk next to you and at the pace you set.”

  Hesitantly, Archibald took a step forward. Gus took a step also and stopped when Archibald stopped. Archibald, slowly, shakily, hobbled to the broken water trough a few yards away. Gus stayed right by his side. When Archibald halted by the trough, Gus did too and then stretched his neck out to rub Archibald’s chest with his muzzle.

  “He only wants you to scratch his ears,” Sterling said quickly when he noticed Archibald’s eyes widen again.

  Archibald flexed his fingers and tried to find the courage to touch the huge beast looking down at him. But when he saw Gus’s head coming toward him again, more quickly and forcefully this time, he realized he’d taken too long in trying to find his valor.

  The front of the horse’s head hit him square in the chest, The sudden impact caused Archibald no pain, but his bad leg made it impossible for him to keep his balance. He rocked and then fell. Frantically clutching at the grass, he sobbed as he crawled away.

  “Oh, hell, Gus,” Sterling cursed as he raced to the horse. “Why’d you go and do that?” Scratching Gus’s ears, he watched Archibald arrive at the porch step. “Come on back over here, son. You still haven’t scratched his ears.”

  “And I’m not going to,” Archibald said in a rare show of defiance. “What if I hadn’t been able to get out from under him? What if he’d stepped on my good leg and crippled it, too? What if—”

  “What if you stay the way you are for the rest of your life?” Sterling returned. “What if all you ever do is stay shut up in some cabin reading books? You say you want to be a doctor. How will you be able to visit your patients if you can’t ride?”

  “Ride! You want me to learn to ride?”

  “The thought crossed my mind. You won’t learn on Gus though. I’m going to find smaller mounts for you and the three demons.”

  Archibald paled visibly. “No. I won’t—”

  “Archibald, how can you see your patients if you can’t ride?”

  “They’ll—they’ll come to me!”

  “A man’s who’s been shot and is bleeding to death will come to you? A woman about to have a baby will come to you? A—”

  “A carriage! I’ll use a carriage for emergencies!”

  “You’ll still have to fill the front end of it with a horse.”

  “I...I’ll get someone else to do it!” Archibald responded hotly, and pulled himself onto the porch.

  “The hell you will!” With that, Sterling led Gus to the porch and then yanked Archibald to his feet. “Never, and I mean never, let other people do for you what you can do for yourself, Archibald. You’re crippled, but you’re not paralyzed, dammit! Now get your trembling hand up to this horse’s ears, or I’ll put it there for you!”

  Archibald renewed his sobbing and hung his head.

  Sterling jerked it up again and then picked up Archibald’s hand. “Cry when you scratch Gus’s ears. Cry, laugh, scream, whisper, sneeze, or yawn! I don’t give a damn what the hell kind of noise you choose to make while doing it, just scratch his blasted ears!”

 
; Before Sterling could pull Archibald’s hand to Gus’s ears, the triplets attacked. All three of them leapt onto his back, their momentum causing Sterling to fall spread-eagle into the yard. They bit, scratched, and punched him from all sides. Every time he managed to get one of them off, the other two were on him again, and no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get all three of them off long enough to rise from the ground. In moments there wasn’t an inch of his body that didn’t sting, throb, or ache.

  “You’re the meanest man in the universe!” Snag hissed, and threw a well-aimed wallop to Sterling’s stomach.

  “You leave our brother alone, or we’ll cripple you too!” Snag warned, and sank his teeth into Sterling’s arm.

  “We might not even stop at crippling you, you no-good, bossy son of a bitch!” Snug screeched, his nails digging into Sterling’s cheek. “We might kill you!”

  “Stop!” Archibald shouted shrilly.

  Abruptly, the triplets ceased their battle to look at Archibald. Sterling had to rub dirt out of his eyes before he, too, could take a look.

  What he saw made him smile. Archibald was scratching Gus’s ears. More than that, he was leading Gus out into the yard and smiling a smile so bright it made Sterling grin too.

  “He really likes his ears scratched,” Archibald told the triplets. “Want to scratch them?”

  The three boys looked at each other, then jumped at the chance. It looked to Sterling that Gus was in pure heaven with so many hands taking care of his itches. He allowed his loyal stallion to enjoy the attention for a few moments, then rose from the ground, swiping dirt from his breeches.

  “I’m proud of you, son,” he told Archibald. “You’ve accomplished a lot today. But as for you three,” he said to the triplets, and swept his hand toward the woodshed, “I believe you’ve all got an appointment with the switch. Never be late for appointments. It’s extremely rude. Go along now and wait for me.”