Bed of Roses

by Rebecca Paisley

  “Listen, lady, I don’t give a fraction of a damn what Virgil said about time or capabilities. I don’t care what kind of nonsense you read, and I’ve no interest whatsoever about whether the authors are from Rome, Greece, or the moon! All I’m interested in at this moment is that knife you’re holding. Now are you going to give it to me or not?”

  She saw the fury in his upside-down silver eyes. “‘Anger is a short madness,’” she said stiffly. “Horace, another Roman poet, said that. And I’m not sure I should trust a crazy man with a knife.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You call me crazy? If you can’t cut me down, how did you think you would cut down a werewolf?”

  “You know, I never gave it much thought until now. I guess I’ll have to re-set the trap on a lower branch. Either that or bring a ladder when I catch one. ‘The glorious gifts of the gods are not to be cast aside.’”

  “‘The glorious gifts of the gods are not to be cast aside,’” he repeated. Where had he read that line? Despite his predicament, he searched his memory, some part of him determined to prove to her that he was not as ignorant as she apparently thought him to be. “Homer wrote that,” he said suddenly. “It’s from the Iliad.”

  “You’ve read it?”

  “Do you think you’re the only person in the world who can read? But what does the Iliad have to do with this too-high trap and the werewolf? Perhaps you think Zeus might hurt the ladder down to you?”

  “I don’t believe in Zeus. But even if I did, I’ve never heard anything as ridiculous as him tossing down a ladder. I quoted the line because it happened to pop into my mind. I say what I think.”

  “Whether it makes sense or not.”

  Irritation swept through her. “Now see here—”

  “No, you see here! I’ve been hanging upside down for almost an hour now, and I’ve no intention of discussing your sanity, your religious beliefs, or any other kind of absurdity with you. Give me that knife and step away!”

  She sighed deeply but obeyed. Sterling snatched the knife, then looked at the ground beneath him. If the crazy woman had cut him down, he’d have been able to break his fall by twisting his lower torso toward the ground before he hit it, enabling himself to land on his feet. But since he had to cut himself down, he wasn’t going to have time to do that and would land flat on his back. The knowledge didn’t thrill him.

  He swung himself upward, grabbed the rope wrapped around his foot, cut through the bond, and braced himself for the fall. As he’d known he would, he fell with a dull thud, flat on his back. The air rushed from his lungs, and it was many moments before he caught his breath again. When he opened his eyes he expected to see Chimera above him. But he was lying there alone, she and the children having gone to play with the baby. Groaning, he tried to stand but fell back to the earth, clutching at the sharp pain in his side.

  “Dammit!”

  His curse brought the triplets, whom she’d called Snig, Snag, and Snug, immediately. “Cursin’ ain’t nice, you damn trespasser,” Snig chastised him, and brandished the stick sword.

  “Well, neither is torturing a helpless man!” Sterling snapped.

  “Are you hurt?” Chimera asked, strolling to him, the baby in her arms. “Can’t you get up?” She saw his silver eyes darken, lighten, and then darken and lighten again. It seemed to her they were made of pepper and salt.

  “Well, of course I can get up,” he assured her, flashing a sardonic smirk. “It’s just that lying here on the ground, dirt grinding into the wounds your three monsters gave me and relishing the pain I feel from the rib I just cracked, is such a pleasant pastime, I thought I’d enjoy it a little longer.”

  “You don’t have to be so snippy,” Chimera retorted. “If you hadn’t been stupid enough to walk into the snare—”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know these peaceful woods were booby-trapped? But you’re right. I should have known better. Everyone knows the Arizona Territory is the werewolf capital of the world. I should have realized there would be snares set out all around for them. Why, even as we speak, there are probably at least ten of the bloodthirsty beasts watching us. Come a full moon, they’ll be sneaking out of their dens and—”

  “Make fun if you want!” Chimera yelled down at him, then held the baby closer when the infant began to cry.

  “Now look what you did!” Sterling charged. “You’ve made her cry! Give me my baby!” He held out his arms.

  “I wasn’t aware men could have babies,” Chimera replied smoothly. “Or are you of a breed that can?”

  “Give her to me,” Sterling said warningly.

  “When was the last time she ate?”

  “Ate?”

  “You haven’t given her anything to eat?”

  Sterling frowned. “Eat?”

  “Eat! You know—that thing you do when you put food in your mouth, swallow it, and are therefore enabled to live?”

  “Well,” Sterling began sheepishly, “we’ve been riding for about four hours, and—”

  “You haven’t fed her in four hours?” Chimera demanded, aghast.

  “Well what the hell could I give her? Beans and hardtack? I’m not in the habit of carrying fresh milk around in my canteen!”

  “Some hero you are!” she shouted down at him. “The spirits must have pulled you out of their bag of rejects!”

  “Hero? What are you talking—”

  “You’re the hero. At least I’m almost sure you are. And you’ve much to do. So—”

  “I’m not doing a damn thing for—”

  “‘Not snow, no, nor rain, nor heat, nor night keeps them from accomplishing their appointed courses with all speed,’” she broke in, and nodded smugly. “Herodotus, the Greek historian, wrote that, and he might have been thinking about heroes. You would do well to heed his advice since his knowledge, I’m sure, surpasses yours. Now, if you have a horse, find him, get on him, and follow me, mister. But stay on the path or you might squash the gnomes.”

  “Gnomes?” Sterling repeated in a whisper as he watched her disappear down the trail through the woods. The woman was mad, and she had his baby! He struggled with his pain until he was on his feet. “Where are you taking her? You come back here, lady!” He stumbled a few steps forward but was stopped by three stick swords. The triplets came at him from all sides, continuing their torture for a good ten minutes before they finally scampered away and left their tired, furious victim alone.

  Sterling stood there in the clearing, holding his side for a long time before the pain in it subsided enough for him to find the breath to whistle for Gus, who appeared instantly. Sterling mounted none too easily and tried to decide what to do.

  The knowledge that the crazy woman could care for the baby better than he could filtered into his mind. The triplets looked well cared for. And the woman herself, with her glossy black hair, glowing cheeks, and bright brown eyes, was the epitome of health. There was really no reason for him to retrieve the Apache infant. She was better off with...What had those freckled fiends called her?

  Chimera. He grinned absently. Chimera was the name of a fire-breathing female monster, if he remembered Father Tom’s mythology lessons correctly. What a fitting name, he thought, his smile advancing to a chuckle—a chuckle that died away when it suddenly dawned on him she was the only woman he’d ever met who hadn’t thrown herself at him.

  He hadn’t seemed to impress her at all. Why, she’d barely looked at him, and then she’d actually insulted him, the raving lunatic! The realization unnerved him. What was it about him she didn’t like? Was he losing his touch?

  “She’s obviously a madwoman,” he muttered to Gus, and shifted uneasily in the saddle. “Spouting off about all that Virgil and Herodotus stuff while letting me dangle from a tree. Mad, Gus. She’s mad. I’m going to Tucson, lady!” he shouted at the path she’d taken. “So why the hell should I give a damn what your opinion of me is?”

  The answer to his question came immediately. It both infuriated and worried him.
He hadn’t believed there was a woman alive who was immune to his magic, and it was this fact that had given him such confidence concerning the woman he sought in Tucson. But if Chimera could resist him, wasn’t it also possible another rejection awaited him in the town that lay just on the other side of these mountains?

  Dammit, why did this have to happen to him now? Now, when it was so important that everything be perfect upon his arrival in Tucson? He was counting on his special touch with women to aid him there.

  “Well, now she’s messed up everything, Gus! Fifteen minutes was all she needed to do it. Damn her, Gus. Damn her, damn her, damn...” His voice trailed off; he raised a brow. “No, don’t damn her,” he whispered. “Seduce her.”

  His brow rose higher. He smiled. The only way to set things right again was to bed the harebrained wench. It was like knocking on wood. Superstitious, yes, but there was no way in hell he would leave this godforsaken, gnome-infested, werewolf-haunted place until he possessed the proof that his charm hadn’t failed him. Otherwise, how could he be sure it would work for him in Tucson?

  With that thought in mind, he urged his horse down the winding path Chimera had taken. “Fifteen minutes was all the time she needed to show me she can resist my magic, Gus. I’ll need only ten to prove she can’t.”

  Look for Moonlight and Magic by Rebecca Paisley

  Coming May 2015!

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