by Zoe Chant
“Oh, no, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she stammered, lifting her hands up and waving them frantically. “I mean… I really appreciate your kind offer, but aren’t you here to have a holiday? That’s why most people come up here. I couldn’t put you to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” the man said. “I like that kind of thing – really. It’s been a while since I had a chance to do some real gardening. I’d really enjoy it.”
Sylvie hesitated. He certainly sounded sincere. But still, part of her objected to dragging other people into her problems. “But we just met,” she said, knowing she was sounding less and less convincing in her protest with every word. “I don’t even know your name…”
“Gale,” the man said instantly, holding out his hand to shake and smiling. Sylvie’s knees went weak at the sight. “Gale MacEwan. So if that’s really your objection, then it’s out of the way now.”
Sylvie swallowed, reaching out and taking his hand. She felt a warm tingle in her palm as they touched, not quite as intense as it had been before, but still there, just enough to send a ripple of goosebumps over her skin.
“It’s nice to meet you, Gale.” His name sounded somehow familiar on her tongue, but she was certain they’d never met before. “I mean… obviously, I would love to get some help, and… well, to –” to spend some more time getting to know you! Intimately, if possible! “– to find out what I’m doing wrong.”
“Then I’d be happy to do whatever I can to help,” Gale said, with that same warm, heart-melting, knee-weakening smile.
“Well, I’m working here for the rest of the day,” Sylvie said reluctantly. “But we’re closed on Mondays. So… if you wanted to come by tomorrow, then that would be great. But only if it’s really no trouble.”
“Of course it’s not.” Gale looked about as pleased as she felt. “The place I’m staying is only a little farther up the mountain. It’s a short drive, and I didn’t have any plans for tomorrow yet. So it’s a date.”
Could it be? Sylvie thought, staring at his impossibly handsome face. The hottest guy I’ve seen in years, he cooks, he likes my baking, he’s incredibly nice, and he’s interested in me?
“I’ll write down my address for you.” Sylvie hurried back behind the counter before she could spend any more time staring.
Grabbing a pen, she scribbled her house address down on her order notepad, ripping the page out and handing it to Gale before she could have any kind of second thoughts or talk herself out of the idea that Gale might really like her. “Here you go.”
Gale took the page with a smile. “Thanks. Should we say around ten? Is that too early?”
Sylvie laughed. “No – that’s practically afternoon for me, what with the hours I usually have to be up by. But you said it’s the opposite for you. Won’t that be a little early?”
“No – to be honest, part of the reason I’m taking this little hiatus is that I’m sick of the hours,” Gale said, shaking his head. “I figured if I’m going to spend that much time doing something, it’s going to have to be something I really love, in a place I really love.”
“That makes total sense,” Sylvie said, unable to stop herself from smiling. “With my bakery, I don’t mind the hours because it’s what I’ve always dreamed of doing. So it’s not like it’s some kind of hardship.”
“Of course not,” Gale said, nodding. “I’m really glad to hear you say that.”
Sylvie hesitated, twisting her fingers in her apron. She knew it was time for Gale to say goodbye and head up to his cabin, but she was incredibly reluctant to see him go – about as reluctant as he seemed to be to head off himself.
“Well… I guess I better go. I still have to unpack and… things,” he said, sounding like he was heading off to throw himself into a lava pit, or something equally unappealing.
“I suppose you’d better,” Sylvie said, feeling the same strange reluctance for him to leave tugging at her heart. “But I’ll see you tomorrow! And you can inspect my tragic herb garden and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
She said it as much to reassure herself as Gale, and he nodded, swallowing.
“Okay. Until tomorrow.”
His voice sounded thick in his throat, and Sylvie watched, her chest aching, as he turned and headed toward the door, and then out of it into the early fall sunlight. She watched as he turned back when he reached his car, lifting a hand to wave at her through the window.
Sylvie returned the wave, biting her lip, and continued to stare as he got into his car and finally drove away.
Only once he was out of sight did she manage to shake her head, giving her cheeks two little pats with her palms to jerk herself out of the reverie she seemed to have wandered into.
“What the hell, Sylvie?” she asked herself aloud, before taking a deep breath. Had it really been that long since she’d had a spark of romance in her life that she was obsessing about the first hot guy who came her way, who showed even the slightest amount of interest in her?
To be fair, that was more than a slight amount of interest, Sylvie thought as she began to clear away Gale’s empty plate, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He offered to come over and look at my garden! And not in a double entendre way!
Not that she would have minded if he had meant it in a double entendre way.
Sylvie felt a laugh bubbling up inside her, and in her distracted state, she almost missed the fact that there was something missing from her clean-up: the fork she’d given Gale to eat his tart with was completely gone. It wasn’t on the table, it wasn’t on the floor, and those were really the only two sensible options for its whereabouts.
Huh. Weird.
It didn’t really matter, she decided – it was just a fork, and she had dozens of them. But it was strange that it would just disappear.
Well. It’ll probably show up when I least expect it, Sylvie decided as she trotted back behind the counter, putting the plates into the dishwasher.
She almost hoped Emily might have missed something during her open this morning, so that she’d have some work to distract herself from the truly horrific amount of time between now and ten o’clock the next morning. But Emily, thorough and diligent as usual, had left her very little to do. Since there weren’t any customers, Sylvie tried to fill the time by first inspecting their supplies (all well-stocked), re-arranging the displays (already beautiful) and straightening the (already straight) tablecloths and flower vases.
Sighing, Sylvie wandered back behind the counter.
Well, I guess I could do worse than write a few notes for some new ideas.
She was always so bursting with new ideas that she had to write them down, or she was bound to forget them.
Right now, she was developing her latest one – the trick up her sleeve that she was hoping would be something Johnson’s Pies and Bakery wouldn’t mysteriously beat her to the punch with.
My grandmother’s honey cake recipe.
Right now, Sylvie was still experimenting with getting things just right in her little kitchen at home. There were thin slices of gingerbread chilling in the fridge, just waiting for her to get home and layer them with honeyed cream, stacking them piece by piece into a delicious, rich, buttery cake.
Sylvie tucked her tongue into the corner of her mouth as she idly sketched out the cake, taking notes for spices she might try adding, or different flavors she could try. She’d offer the plain butter, honey and cream version, of course, but maybe she could try adding a bit of caramel to another cake? Or perhaps some rose water? Or maybe some blueberry essence? Maybe…
Oh, butterscotch! Sylvie thought, delightedly scribbling on her notepad.
She happily took notes, mind racing with ideas, until she was distracted by a buzzing sound.
Glancing up, Sylvie was surprised to see a fly – a big one! – zooming around by the ceiling.
Ugh, how did that get in here? she thought, annoyed. It was weird weather for flies, too! She would have though
t it was much too cold in late fall for them to be hanging around!
Since she had food everywhere she couldn’t use any kind of bug spray, so instead, she resorted to rolling up a piece of the butcher’s paper she used to wrap delivery boxes and waving it around, trying to encourage the fly back the way it had come – wherever that was. Finally, as it flew near the door, Sylvie opened it up and shooed it out.
Ugh, finally!
She slammed the door closed behind it.
That would be all she needed – flies coming in and making everyone think her bakery was dirty or her food was covered in germs!
Clearly, I need to invest in some fly strips. I’ll text Emily and ask her to pick some up on her way back to the shop, Sylvie thought grimly, as she returned to her notepad, before quickly losing herself to sketching out her future ideas once more.
Chapter 5
Pulling the piece of notepaper Sylvie had given him out of his pocket, Gale once again checked the address before pulling his car up to the side of the road.
Usually he wouldn’t have any trouble remembering something like an address, but firstly, this wasn’t just any address – this is the home of my mate! – and secondly, he’d been awake for practically half the night, tossing and turning, his head filled with thoughts of Sylvie.
My mate. She’s my mate. And I’ve finally found her…
Gale hadn’t given much thought to finding his mate before now. He’d been busy exploring the world outside the small, unicorns-only town he’d grown up in, moving from city to city, working different jobs, telling himself that there was more to existence than staying in the one place for the whole of his life. But recently, he couldn’t deny he’d been having thoughts of wanting something more settled.
He’d been yearning for something… more.
Is this why you’ve been making my powers go so crazy? he’d asked his unicorn as he’d driven away from Sylvie’s bakery yesterday. Because you wanted me to find my mate?
It is what is right and proper, to search for our mate, the unicorn had told him loftily, with a haughty shake of its head.
Well, you could have just told me that, Gale had said, shaking his head. What do I have to do to get you to communicate in words?
The unicorn had merely snorted at that. Would you have listened? Didn’t you understand the feeling of loneliness that was growing inside you?
Gale swallowed.
No, of course you didn’t, the unicorn said, sounding somewhat smug. So of course I had to resort to more drastic measures.
Gale had found it was hard to argue that point. It was true he’d felt restless, lonely, like he should move on almost as soon as he’d arrive at a new place. He’d just thought he wanted a new scene. But now he realized it had been his unicorn, urging him to find his mate.
But now I’ve found her, he thought, looking out of his car window at the neat little house he’d pulled up outside of. Does that mean you’re going to behave yourself?
The irritated twitch of the unicorn’s tail did not fill him with confidence.
After all, Gale realized, I still haven’t actually told her yet.
That was a conversation he wasn’t yet sure how to start.
He touched his fingers to the fork in his jacket pocket as he got out of the car. He hadn’t wanted to take it with him – and he’d always had the intention to return it – but he couldn’t leave it sitting there on the table with its green leaves and white flowers either.
Maybe I could show it to her, Gale thought as he walked up the stone path to Sylvie’s front door. That at least would prove to her right away that I’m not lying.
Still, the thought of revealing himself to her left a cold, hard knot of tension in his stomach. It was part of the reason unicorns tended to keep themselves to themselves: Gale knew perfectly well that humans would find the idea of shifters in general and mythical shifters in particular kind of hard to believe.
She will believe us, his unicorn said. She is our mate. She may not know it, but she has been waiting for us too. She will sense that what we say is the truth.
Gale wished he felt as certain as the unicorn sounded.
Sylvie’s front garden was a little bare, Gale thought – but then, she had said she wasn’t a great gardener. Her house was very cute, though: a little stucco cottage with an arched, blue-painted front door and leadlight windows.
It’s just like her, Gale thought, charmed. Gorgeous and adorable.
Without giving himself an opportunity to have any second thoughts, Gale walked up the stone steps that led to her front door and raised his hand to knock.
The door opened before his knuckles touched the wood, however, and Sylvie appeared, looking a little flustered.
“Oh – sorry if I startled you,” she said. “It’s just I saw you walking up the path, so I thought… well, not that I was looking out for you or anything, but I guess I was expecting you since it’s just on ten now, and…” Sylvie trailed off, shaking her head. “Well, I guess I made this awkward right from the get-go.” She looked up at him a little sheepishly from behind her bangs.
“Not at all,” Gale said, as his heart sped up. Her eyes were just as green as he remembered them, her lips just as full and red, and the embarrassed flush that was now creeping over her cheeks was just as cute. “It’s not awkward at all. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been counting down the hours.”
He may as well be honest about how much he’d been looking forward to seeing her again. He wasn’t sure he could have held back, at any rate – his unicorn was prancing within him like a foal, ecstatic at the sight of Sylvie.
Our mate! She’s perfect! We must tell her exactly what she is to us, right now!
Hold your horses! Gale told it, as he felt his mouth opening to do just that. I need to at least try to explain things to her first!
The unicorn, displeased at the delay, tossed its head and snorted, but at least it didn’t try to force him to blurt out anything like I’m a unicorn and you’re my mate! right away.
“Oh! Well, I… I guess that’s how I’ve been feeling too,” Sylvie said with a light laugh, though her eyes were wide with surprise.
Gale’s heart clenched. He opened his mouth, about to say… well, something, anyway, when he was distracted by something solid brushing against his leg.
Looking down, he was mildly surprised to see the largest, fluffiest, most marmalade-colored cat he’d ever seen in his life winding its way around his ankles.
“Oh,” he said, as the cat gazed up at him with large yellow eyes. “Hello there.”
“Brioche!” Sylvie said, sounding surprised. “What’re you doing here?” She looked up at Gale. “You’re not allergic, are you? I didn’t think to ask.”
“Not at all.” Gale shook his head. “I love cats. Well, animals in general. But this one here seems quite friendly.”
“Usually he’s not,” Sylvie said, her tone a little mystified, as she reached down to scoop the enormous cat up in her arms. The cat settled happily, like a huge, fluffy cushion. Gale could hear him purring from here. “He usually runs off to one of his little hidey-holes when I have guests. But it seems you’re different.”
The cat, Brioche, let out a loud meow, as if to agree with what she’d said.
“Well, he’s certainly very handsome,” Gale said, reaching out to pat Brioche on the head. Immediately, the purring increased in volume, and Brioche closed his eyes, clearly in ecstasy. “I’m glad he’s come out to say hello.”
“I think he is too,” Sylvie laughed. “You see, Brioche? People love you! You shouldn’t hide from them!” She let the cat down, and he stalked off into the house, tail waving like a flag.
“Oh!” Sylvie said suddenly, shaking her head. “Sorry – you’re standing out there in the cold! Come on in.”
Gale couldn’t help but look around as he followed her into her cozy home. The inside was just as adorable as the outside: the rooms were small but tidy, with pale green curtains hangin
g over the windows and even a little stone fireplace in the living room, with firewood stacked next to it. There was a knitted throw on the couch next to some cushions, and a blue vase of flowers on the dining room table.
“Um. I have tea or coffee… or we could go look at the herb garden right away, and have something to eat afterwards?” Sylvie asked, turning back to him as they stood in her living room.
“Looking at the garden sounds good,” Gale said, deciding that perhaps telling her what he had to say would be easier over a cup of coffee. But he didn’t want to distract from helping Sylvie with her garden first.
“Sure thing. Follow me.”
Sylvie led him to the back door, which was wooden and painted white, and out into the garden. Like the front garden and the house, the back yard was fairly small. But despite that, Sylvie had enough room for a small greenhouse in the corner.
“Don’t be shocked when you go in,” Sylvie warned him as she led him toward it. “Like I said, I’m not a great gardener. So it’s kind of depressing in there.”
“Well, we’ll see what I can do.” Gale smiled as he felt his unicorn kick up its back feet in joy at the thought of being able to do something to help its mate.
She requires a service of us! We will not fail to provide it! We will show her that we are a worthy mate!
Sylvie hadn’t been joking, however, when she’d said the greenhouse was a little depressing – though there were little markers with things like Thyme and Mint and Chamomile, all the plants looked scraggly and sickly. None of them were thriving at all.
“You see what I mean,” Sylvie said, glancing at him. “I’m not really sure what it is. Nothing will grow.”
“Hmm,” Gale said, leaning down to inspect some kind of sad-looking rosemary. “What kind of fertilizer are you using?”
“Uh, I don’t really know,” Sylvie said sheepishly. “I just got some liquid stuff from the garden center. Would you like me to go get it? It’s in the shed.”