Remedy Maker

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Remedy Maker Page 39

by Sheri Fredricks


  His tears fell on her face, and still he kissed her.

  How barren his life would be without Patience to liven things up. Never had he wanted someone to invade his space as much as he wanted her. He thought of her things in his dresser, his clothes on her body. Her life entwined with his . . . forever.

  Her lips twitched, responded.

  Under his palms, her body grew hot. The acute change startled him and he broke off the kiss.

  Something akin to the rising of the morning sun spread over Patience. A hint of color chased the sick pallor from her skin, replacing her body’s cells with a creamy rose blush. Frail and weak evicted, giving way to grounded and solid.

  He felt his mouth go lax when her hair, once a pretty, dusky brown, transformed into a delicious dark chocolate, vibrant and shiny.

  Rhy lifted a hand to touch her face. A cheek that moments before lay cold and still beneath his palm, felt warm to his touch. She took a deep breath of renewed health as life flooded in.

  “Patience, sweetheart.” Acting on impulse, and because he simply couldn’t wait a moment longer, he gently brushed his lips over hers.

  Her eyelids fluttered, and then opened to gaze up at him with a sexy, sleepy look. Twin orbs of opulent polished turquoise met his hungry stare. Bright and alert, the hints of yellowish tint were gone.

  “Hey, stud muffin. What’s with the worry-eyes?” Patience smirked.

  Rhycious could barely push the words past his clogged throat. “Oh, babe . . . .”

  Thirty-Eight

  “Over in the empty space, that’s where it should go.” Outside the bedroom window, a beautiful spot beckoned. “It’s a perf and fect site.” The sun had set, but plenty of evening light remained.

  In the weeks following their marriage, Rhycious finally learned how to chill. He was mentally healthy and strong. A much sought after doctor.

  Slightly arrogant. Incredibly loving. Irresistible, and impossible to live with.

  He turned away from the window and dodged the nightstand with his tail. Moving closer, he reached for her hand and stroked his thumb across her palm, his warm chocolate eyes melting her heart.

  Patience smiled at him.

  They’d been adjusting to living together, moving her things in, and discussing plans for the future. Every now and then, a friend would stop by on the pretense of seeing how it was going. She knew it was more to check on their relationship. After all, Centaur and Wood Nymph was headline material in the Boronda Forest. The Festival of the Trees was yesterday’s news.

  “You picked a fine location,” Rhy observed. “And as soon as I get my feet under me, I’ll help you plant your tree. Meanwhile, I can gather the stakes and ties, and figure out where I left the damn shovel.”

  Her tree.

  Planted at Rhy's cabin, now their home.

  The sycamore would be safe and protected on land he owned, never in danger of logging or poisoned from noxious run-off. As someone who’d never owned property in the conventional sense, she had trouble coming to terms with anything that resembled a human tradition.

  Thank Bacchus’s hooves Rhycious was amazingly knowledgeable with the world. Banks, insurance, and something called a credit card. She felt ignorant, but he shared his expertise of all he had learned.

  And he shared many, many things.

  She walked out of the room ahead of him, her fingers clasped in his. “Are you surefire about my playing nurse? What if your patients don’t crush on me?” Not everyone viewed their relationship with an open mind. Prejudice continued to reign and negative talk from all races flowed faster than the river in spring.

  Rhy glanced at her. “I need your help, polytima. The thought of an assistant, someone I don’t know in our home, around you, I get all bent out of shape.”

  “Whatever you say, doctor.”

  “Hey, I like that.” He swooped in and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. “You want to ride the pony later?” His hind-end waggled like an excited colt.

  While she giggled, a four-step beat accompanied by the jangle of harness leather approached the front yard. Rhycious cursed and glanced at his watch.

  “‘Scuse me,” she reprimanded. “But he is your friend. And if it weren’t for Samuel—”

  “I wouldn’t be able to do this.” His hands slid down her back and curved over her ass. Her mock protest was lost, buried beneath his mouth, his lips smothering her words.

  Heat infused her body as if he’d activated it on demand.

  After his kiss, Rhy opened the front door a crack and surveyed the area before stepping onto the porch.

  “Guten abend, Rhycious. I come bearing gifts for the newlyweds.” Samuel tied off the reins and stepped down from his buggy, carrying a covered basket. “For the missus.”

  Patience accepted the gift and gave Samuel a welcoming hug. Sweet scents of honey and molasses drifted from beneath the checkered cloth cover, making her mouth water. “Thank you, it smells delicktable.”

  “Home baked goods, compliments of my sisters.” Sam shot Rhy a glance. “I think the hunters left. I haven’t seen any in town or around my farm.”

  Rhycious nodded. “Gone for now, but they’ll be back.” He hugged Patience, his need to protect his mate stronger than ever. “Meanwhile, we have a tree to plant.”

  “The home of my Wood Nymph soul,” she explained, noting Samuel’s quizzical expression.

  Walking up the porch stairs, Samuel seemed pleased for them, eyeing her and Rhy with happiness. “You have a fine woman, Rhycious. And finally, you’ve found peace in your life.”

  Rhy opened the door for her. “It’s that obvious?”

  “I swear, twenty years—or one hundred, in your case—is erased from your face. But it’s deeper than that, my friend. Your days of piffle and ruch are over. Now you can live as you deserve.” Samuel removed his flat hat upon entering the cabin and shook Rhy’s hand. “Love conquers all.”

  Patience placed the basket of molasses, cookies, and oatcakes on the kitchen table, listening to her husband laugh while Samuel griped about his sisters and their meddling ways. He described the girls plotting to set him up with available Amish women, to which he didn’t feel ready.

  “I have someone in mind,” Sam said. “I don’t need their help.”

  “Anyone I know?” Rhy asked.

  Samuel blushed, and he nervously rotated the hat in his hands. “Perhaps. If anything comes of it, I’ll let you know.”

  Rhycious clip-clopped closer and took Patience’s hand. He pressed a kiss to the back, then held it over his heart. “I never thought love would come my way, Sam. I truly wish this for you.”

  “My time will come when God feels I’m ready.”

  As they escorted Samuel to the front door and thanked him for the gift, Patience stared at her husband’s hand in hers. An absurd urge to cry overcame her.

  “Polytima?” Rhy asked softly. “You all right?”

  She nodded, mind-boggled that he read her so easily. “Absodoodly.” She smiled at him, mesmerized by the happiness she read in his eyes. “Do you know that before we met, I’d given up hope for any days past tomorrow?”

  “You did?” Holding her hand, Rhycious followed Samuel across the porch and down the stairs.

  Patience’s throat tightened, passions of love clogging her up. “I have so much to luff over. You’ve gifted me a whole future, an adventure of a lifetime to explore. Sometimes it’s hard to fathom. I have so much time now, I don’t know what to do first.”

  “How interesting, I feel the same way—if I understood you right.” Rhycious cupped her face in his hands and softly kissed her cheek. “That’s why I kiss you so much, agape mou.”

  She wrapped her arms around his incredibly wide shoulders and nuzzled his lips with hers.

  “Scheissdreck,” Samuel said, rolling his eyes. “At least wait until I leave.”

  Bert stomped his hoof and nickered, tossing his harnessed head.

  Rhy sent Patience a
wink, flipped back his loose hair, and went to touch noses with Bert.

  How beautiful and serene he and Sam’s horse seemed to be. Eyes closed, foreheads touching, the two of equine descent communed. Rhy stepped back with a swish of his tail and returned to Patience’s side, sliding an arm around her.

  “Bert appreciated the bucket of warmed oats last night.” The bay horse tossed his head and nickered again. Rhycious let out a laugh. “And he’d appreciate the kindness every night.”

  Samuel climbed up into the buggy and picked up the reins. “He’s a good boy. A bit pushy, perhaps.” A cluck to Bert and the buggy pulled away, into the darkened evening.

  Patience kept her arm wrapped tightly around Rhy’s waist while he guided them back into the house, shutting the door on the cool night air.

  She toyed with a button on his shirt. “Gimme a playback on what Sam said about the hunters.”

  “They seem to be gone.”

  “That’s riptizzle,” she mused. “And what’s Savella cookin’—”

  “Can we leave mythic politics for another night?”

  Patience surrounded his neck with her arms, pressing her body closer. “How’d you know what I was going to say?” Need for him grew in pulsating waves, thrumming through her in anticipated joy.

  “Babe, I know everything about you. And what I don’t know, I’ll remedy.”

  * * *

  One hundred percent, and absolutely in control. Rhycious hugged her slim form and held her tight. Of all the things to happen, Patience was his remedy.

  He lifted her chin with his finger and kissed her lips. Who was he kidding? He was hers, and he belonged to the most beautiful Nymph in the Boronda Forest. She was the one who forced him to face his fears and continually fight his way back from the edge.

  “What do you want to do now?” he asked. Around the house, a year’s worth of work waited for him. It could wait another day.

  “We might walk over to that spot by the stream again.”

  She meant the deep pool where the flow eddied and Water Nymphs converged. No thanks. “We could,” he said, taking another sip of her lips.

  “Or we can do what we did yesterday.

  Patience looked so young and innocent standing in the circle of his arms. Thick healthy hair tumbled down her back, her foot sliding up and down his foreleg. Desire ignited, fueled by her touch.

  He spied the edge of her Wood Nymph mark peeking from under her hair, and he couldn’t contain the grin curving his mouth. “We do a lot of that these days.”

  “We should stick with what we’re good at. And stud muffin, we’re good at it.” She gave a nip to his chin, then pressed a hot kiss to his lips.

  “How can I argue with logic like yours?” Sweet gods, if anyone had told him he’d wake up one day to find he’d married a Wood Nymph, beautiful or not, he’d have prescribed a day in the padded turf room.

  But here he was, married to Patience, who in reality was more woman than he ever dreamed he’d find. Emotionally, she was as impenetrable as a stream boulder. Mentally, she shared her strength with him. In return, he shared his physical strength with her.

  There it was—trust—straight down to the core.

  Finally, he found his home. She made him feel whole again, his safety net. There was no reason to look any further.

  “It’s an awsomelicious good rule to live by.”

  Rhycious couldn’t agree more. When Patience smiled at him, her eyes all dreamy, her body soft and willing, he got it. And he’d be sure to tell Aleksander he understood why the Centaur had felt the need to tie up loose ends with Pennelope that night.

  “I have eleven hours to burn in my Centaur body.” And he’d never felt more alive. “Want to gallop like hellions through Boronda?”

  Patience stroked her hands through his hair, over his shoulders and down his back. Electric sparks ignited where her fingers touched his skin. When she reached his withers, she tugged his sensitive tuft of mane.

  “I want all of it, Rhy. The thrill, the wonder, and the feeling like I can live forever. As long as I’m with you, I have all that.”

  “Agape mou.” My love. Rhycious lowered his lips to hers for a kiss and felt that finally he, too, could live forever.

  THE END

  SHERI FREDRICKS

  Always on the hunt for the uncommon things in life, author Sheri Fredricks thrives on creating adventures in her mythological kingdom for her readers.

  A former engineering secretary, Sheri lives on the beautiful central coast of California. "I wanted to move away from inflexible right angles and create an unboxed world with no boundaries." A voracious reader since her early years, Sheri found her brain crowded with stories and characters of her own. "Ultimately," she says, "my husband encouraged me to write them all down."

  Sheri loves to spend time at home. A computer hutch keeps her focused on creating stories, but the panoramic view of life on a ranch will call her outside to play in the sun.

  Find Sheri at:

  http://www.sherifredricks.com

 

 

 


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