Fisher smiled, pulled her paw from his. "Thank you, Mayor, but I prefer my food a little less greasy."
"Ooooh!" Lorn grabbed his chest. "That rapier wit!" He turned, whacked Bobcat on the shoulder. "And you, Bobby, now that you've joined the moneyed class, what will become of you? How will his newly acquired fortune change our old Bobcat?"
Bobcat stared at him. "My newly acquired what?"
"Oh, Bobby..." Lorn pressed his paws together. "Don't tell me you've forgotten."
"Forgotten? Forgotten what?!"
"Your bet? Last month? At the water polo game? You asking me to put fifteen on Ewell holding Coll Belverdeen to less than three goals? Any of this ringing anything?"
Slowly, it came back. "Oh. Yeah. You mean she--"
"Stopped him cold." Lorn wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. "It was an absolute pleasure to watch. But imagine my shock when I couldn't find you after the game." He shrugged. "So, as president of the Ottersgate Commerce Bank, I had to open an account in your name. You've got nearly 500 gold castors waiting for you, Bobby."
"Gold?" Bobcat stared. "Wait. Gold? But...but how?"
Lorn frowned. "Well, the bookies had Ewell at thirty to one. You asked me to bet fifteen gold castors, and acting as your agent these past few weeks, I've managed to increase--"
"Fifteen castors?" Bobcat grabbed him by the scruff. "I haven't got that kind of money! Lorn, I was talking about scrip! Greenbacks, not gold!"
Lorn blinked. "Well, good thing you won the bet, then."
Bobcat let the otter go, his head spinning: five...hundred...in gold.... But Lorn was going on. "Of course, for a mere 10 percent, I'll be happy to stay on as your financial manager should you not care to sully your paws with arcane fiduciary matters." He grinned and stuck out a paw. "Deal?"
"What?" Bobcat shook himself, then took Lorn's paw. "Uhh, yeah, Lorn, sure. You, uhh, you do that."
"Wonderful!" Lorn clapped him on the back. "Come by my office tomorrow around tenish, and I'll have all the papers ready for your signature. Must dash now; I'm speaking at the Mouse Lodge this evening. Lovely to see you again, Skink, and Fisher..." He sighed, pressed a paw to his chest. "I am, as always, blinded by your radiance. Fare well, all." He slid back down the beach, into the water, scooted out onto the other bank, and disappeared into the streets of Ottersgate.
The quiet seemed even quieter, Bobcat staring after Lorn, the backpack still hanging from his paws. "Five...hundred... gold...castors...," he heard himself mutter.
After a moment, he realized Fisher was calling his name; he forced his eyes up and saw her grinning. "I can take care of the pack if you wanna just leave it. Let's say day after tomorrow, you and Skink at my place for lunch. Right now, though, seems to me you might have someone to see."
He blinked at her for a moment, then dropped the pack and leaped to his paws. "Fisher, you're absolutely right. Skink, day after tomorrow, I'll pick you up." All he could do was smile. "And thanks, both of you. For everything."
"See you," Fisher said.
"Indeed." Skink jerked his head over. "We shall."
Bobcat spun around and took off down the riverbank, his mind buzzing. He cut right, weaving through the trees till he came out into the cleared area north of the Brackens, the briers rising up like a wall in front of him. He sprinted along the wall till it turned left, turned with it, and the woods to his right opened onto the Brackens Farms, fields stretching away from the Brackens and out into the valley.
Rabbits, their straw hats bobbing up and down, worked out among the crops, and Bobcat barely noticed their heads stop and turn as he barreled past, his eyes intent on the south part of the farm, the cabbage fields that Garson was in charge of. He cut through the carrot patches, rabbits shrinking back, their ears flattening, and started shouting, "Garson! Garson, you out here?"
Several hats ducked down among the cabbages, but one rose straight up, a black and white figure beneath it. And then she turned, was looking back at him, her nose twitching, her long-imagined voice saying, "Bobcat?"
He cleared the rows of cabbages between them in several leaps, scrambled up the row and skidded to a stop in front of her, his heart pounding, her sweet scent stroking his whiskers, not wanting to close his eyes even to blink. It took him a moment to get out a, "Hi."
"Hi yourself," she said, her ears spreading. "I've been having some fairly weird dreams about you. What've you been up to? Where've you been?"
He couldn't stop a laugh bursting out, and before he even knew what he was doing, he had swept her up in his paws and started spinning with her down the row of cabbages. He only took a few steps before he tripped over himself, tumbled back into the dirt, Garson across his chest, a confused look on her face. Bobcat drank it in, then gave her nose a kiss. "Garson Rix, will you marry me?"
"What?" She started back a bit, but, Bobcat noticed with absolute glee, she didn't hop off, didn't scream, didn't pull herself away; she just lay there, warm against him, and blinked. "Where did this come from all of a sudden?"
"I want to tell you everything." He wasn't really sure what he was saying, only sure that she was right there, her fur soft in his. "Everything that happened, how much I love you, how you saved my life out there, how much you mean to me, how I've been thinking about you so much, and...and...and..." He stopped, lost in her smiling eyes. "Will you marry me?"
Garson looked down at him, tapped his chest gently with a paw, her smile slight beneath her whiskers. "I'll think about it," she said after a moment. "I also think the boss owes me a half-day off, and I think I'll go ask him for it. I've got to give you a chance to persuade me, after all." She leaned forward, pressed her nose to his. "Shall we, Bobcat?"
"Ghareen." His heart was pounding so hard, he could feel himself shaking. "My name's Ghareen." He lifted her up, set her on the ground, rolled to his paws, and set off with her through the fields.
The Blood Jaguar Page 27