01 Do You Believe in Magic - The Children of Merlin (27 page)

“When I learn to drive, I can go
anywhere, but until then....”

“Until then she has to impose on
one of us,” Devin said, taunting. Tammy stuck her tongue out at
him. “And be nice,” he returned pointedly.

“Personally, I dread the day you
can drive,” Drew said, reaching for an apple from the bowl on the
bar. “The world has no idea what it’s in for.” She looked around
the kitchen as the help whipped and mixed and set out trays. “I
don’t know why Mother doesn’t just leave them to it. They know what
to do. She always works too hard, no matter what Father does.”

Mrs. Tremaine came in from the
backyard with an armload of cut flowers followed by Jane with
another. There’d not been time for Mrs. Tremaine to have cut the
beautiful blooms (gladiolas? foxglove? among others, and roses).
Jane must have been the harvester. She appeared to practically live
here, though she hadn’t said much of anything at dinner last night.
She was kind of like wallpaper. You didn’t notice it until you were
specifically looking for it.

Maggie pushed her plate away.
Lanyon commandeered her last two slices of bacon shamelessly.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Tremaine.” She had to raise her voice over
the vacuum in the living room and the floor waxer in the foyer.
“Guess I’ll be loading up now.”

Mrs. Tremaine descended upon her
gathered brood and Maggie with a purposeful look in her eye.
Several workers squeezed past the cluster of Tremaines. “I just
can’t in good conscience let you run off when I know by the time
you deliver your horses, you’ll be driving until midnight to get
home.” Maggie started to protest that she was used to it, but she
didn’t get a chance. “So I’m officially inviting you to my birthday
party tonight. You can deliver your horses this afternoon then
drive back tomorrow. And before you say anything, I’d like to
remind you that it would be very rude to refuse an invitation to an
event which is so important to me.”

Maggie shut her mouth. She
couldn’t stay another night. Not with Tris in the house. And yet
that’s just what she wanted to do more than anything else in the
world. This was so bad.

“Oh, please say you will,” Tammy
begged. “And maybe you need some company out to the riding camp? I
could help you load and unload.”

“Excellent idea,” Mrs. Tremaine
interrupted, stemming Tammy’s flow. “As a matter of fact, why don’t
you all go and get out from underfoot here?”

“Mrs. Tremaine,” Maggie said,
wincing as her stomach clenched and her joints protested, “I can’t
stay. I have stock at home to take care of.”

“How are they being cared for
now?” Mrs. Tremaine laid her flowers on the kitchen side of the bar
and pushed her way through her children to stand in front of
Maggie.

“A local high school
kid....”

“Give me his name and I’ll call
him for you,” Kemble sighed. He sounded as if he knew Maggie would
give in. But she couldn’t give in. That way lay madness. The ripple
of pain that shot through her made her grimace.

Mrs. Tremaine examined Maggie.
Her expression went from worried to kind. Her eyes were almost
mesmerizing. “I think staying is a very good idea.” She put a hand
on Maggie’s shoulder. Maggie felt energy pouring into her and out
of her in some strange exchange. She gasped in surprise. Mrs.
Tremaine’s eyes opened wide for a moment, then her hand gripped
Maggie’s shoulder more firmly. Maggie blinked, dazed, as the hurt
in her stomach and her joints melted away. Even her bruised cheek
stopped its low-level throbbing. Mrs. Tremaine’s breathing grew a
little ragged. Then she let go.

Maggie felt good. Calm and sure
and healthy and ... right.

Mrs. Tremaine swallowed and gave
a wobbly smile. “There,” she said as if it were decided.

Maybe it was decided. Everyone
acted as though it was.

Tammy raced out the French
doors, yelling, “I’ll meet you at the barn.”

“What does one wear to a camp
for disabled children?” Drew mused. “Coming with us, brother
dear?”

“Yes,” Kemble said with
decision. “I believe I will go.”

“Go where?”

Maggie felt a shiver slide down
her spine. She turned. And there he was, naked from the waist up,
his tattoos winding over his muscles. He was gorgeous with his
tousled black hair and those sleepy-looking green eyes. He looked
... sated.

Oh, dear. Between them both
oversleeping, her blushes, and his “just screwed my eyes out” look,
his family must have no doubt what had been going on last
night.

*****

When Tris realized he might have
missed Maggie, he’d pulled on some shorts, hastily strapped on the
cast, and emerged from his room at the back at an awkward lope. The
chatter of objections running through his mind couldn’t stop his
panic that he might not see her again.

But here she was. He was vaguely
aware that his family surrounded her but he couldn’t take his eyes
off Maggie to acknowledge them. God, but she was beautiful. Her
skin glowed. Her gray-green eyes had depths he’d never seen in
eyes, no matter how many he’d gazed into before. Memories of their
lovemaking last night washed over him like one of Devin’s waves:
the way her hair looked loose over her shoulders, the feel of her
breasts against his bare chest, the way her lips swelled a little
from kissing. She was passionate and tender and generous,
and....

“Yes,” Kemble was saying. “I
believe I will go.” Kemble’s gaze rested on Maggie, too, Tris
realized, even as all those thoughts of Maggie took their
inevitable toll on his own body.

“Go where?” Tris frowned.

“We’re all going out to help
Maggie deliver her horses,” Devin said.

“A kind of adventure,” Lanyon
added. “Since around here adventure is hard to come by.”

“Actually, I’d like to get you
all out of the house while Jane and I manage for tonight,” his
mother said with a smile. She was looking strangely at Maggie, too.
What was happening here? “Then Maggie is going to join us for the
party tonight.”

Relief welled up in Tris from
someplace he didn’t know he possessed.

She was staying. At least for
one more night.

“Well, then. Disabled children’s
camp, it is,” Tris said.

“You’d better stay and rest your
injuries,” Kemble said with a pointed look at Tris’s badly
strapped-on cast.

“There ought to be one adult
along. Maggie shouldn’t have to babysit the Brood.”

“I’ll be there. I’m probably
more qualified for the job of adult than you are.” Kemble didn’t
actually sneer, but he was at his most supercilious. Damn it if he
wasn’t looking at Maggie again. Tris felt his throat constrict.

“Don’t you have a country to
strip-mine or something?” Tris growled.

“Boys, boys,” his mother said.
“You’re both going. So is Drew. Don’t make her play referee, or she
and Maggie will be the only ones there who can claim to be adults.
Now, out with you all.” She made shushing motions with her hands.
“Jane and I have work to do.” She gave Maggie an enigmatic smile,
picked up an armload of flowers from the bar, and took them over to
where Jane was assembling arrangements in vases.

“I can’t drive, so I’ll ride
with Maggie,” Tris announced. “You can take the Brood in the SUV,
Kemble.”

“Drew can drive the Brood.”
Kemble waved a hand dismissively at his family. The Prince of Wales
at his most annoying. “I’ll ride with Maggie.”

“I’ll go get Kee. She’s painting
in the garden.” Devin spun and ran for the door.

“Might want to change out of
your wetsuit,” Drew called after him.

“I’ll meet you in the drive
after the horses are loaded,” Kemble ordered. “I have a few things
to take care of. Name and location of high school kid?”

“Bobby Thompson. He lives in
Austin, Nevada.”

“Noted.” Kemble turned and
disappeared into his office.

Lanyon grabbed his flute and
took off at a run. “Thank you,” Maggie called after Kemble. She got
a salute, but he didn’t turn.

Maggie gave Tris a glance that
made his loins throb, and mumbled something about getting the
horses loaded as she headed out to the front drive.

Which left Tris and Drew both
staring after her.

“Well done, Tris,” Drew said,
breaking his concentration.

“What do you mean, ‘well done’?”
Tris mustered up a glower. If she knew that he’d made love to
Maggie in the library last night ... but she couldn’t know that. If
she was chastising him for coming out half-dressed, she could just
shove it. Apparently he’d only been just in time to keep Kemble
from making an outright pass at Maggie.

“Don’t get your dander up, as
they say in cowboy-land,” Drew sniffed. “I was serious. She’s much
better than your usual fare. She might actually do you some good.
If that’s possible.”

“You’re as bad as Mother. Always
matchmaking. Apparently it’s gotten so desperate you’ll even take
someone who isn’t magic.”

“None of us kids are magic, yet.
And you never know how things will work out.”

“Well, no one should worry.
She’s leaving tomorrow.” And he only had one more day with her. The
feeling that shot through him was a lot like pain. But at least he
had one more day. And one more night. The pain subsided, replaced
with thoughts of what tonight might bring.

He turned back to his bedroom to
get more suitably dressed. He was not going to let Kemble even
think about trying to get Maggie for himself.

And he had to figure out where
he could get some condoms.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

With the bucket seats, only one
of the Tremaine brothers could ride with the horses. Kemble aced
out Tris by waiting until Tris was helping load the lunch basket
which had magically appeared, courtesy of Mr. Nakamura, into the
back of the Highlander Hybrid with Lanyon, who had to squeeze into
the cargo area.

Kemble slid into the truck and
motioned Maggie to put it in gear.

Maggie shrugged. Tris clearly
thought Kemble was trying to ace him out for more than the seat in
the truck. That was kind of ... sweet. Trying to trade Kemble out
for Tris would only put more bad blood between them. So she eased
the trailer up the drive, watching Tris’s look of dismay and
frustration recede in the rearview mirror. “Did you get hold of
Bobby?” she asked.

“Yes. He’ll take care of the
stock until further notice. Though he expects his regular daily
rate. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

“No. That’s fine.” Her profit on
the mustangs, slim to begin with, was now slimmer.

“Good.” There was a long
silence, broken only by Kemble’s directions on the route. As they
pulled onto the freeway, Kemble looked into the rearview mirror and
chuckled. “Going fifty in the slow lane will drive my sister over
the brink.”

“She got a lead foot?”

“She drives a Maserati.”

“She and Tris have that in
common. He was driving some kickass bike in Nevada.”

“I was surprised when he bought
this truck. A reward for services rendered?”

If Maggie hadn’t been driving
she might have slapped him, which would have been a mistake, since
it dawned on her that he probably meant in exchange for taking him
into the ER or the ride to LA. She chose to believe that anyway.
“No,” she laughed, “this baby still belongs to him. We left my
truck at the dealership in Fallon. It didn’t have bucket
seats.”

“Ah. And he couldn’t stretch out
his leg.”

“Unless I sat on the edge of the
seat to drive.”

“So he bought a new truck.”
Kemble thought about that for a minute. “I’m surprised he didn’t
get one of the new diesels.”

“Not sure why he didn’t.
Salesman offered him a Toyota Tacoma. Couldn’t have been more than
a couple years old.”

“What year is yours?”

“Seventy. Ford.”

She saw Kemble nod to himself
out of the corner of her eye. He tried to make conversation about
where she lived, how far out of Austin, did she have folks.

“Father,” she said curtly, and
shut up.

He waited a minute, obviously
frustrated that she wouldn’t open up about herself. Then he said,
deliberately, “Elroy O’Brian.”

Maggie blinked at the traffic
ahead. Well, there it was. The gauntlet. He wouldn’t know Elroy’s
name unless he’d been doing some digging. That’s what this was all
about. He had no interest in Maggie herself, no matter what Tris
thought. “So why even ask questions when you already know?” This
was making her angrier by the minute. “How much
do
you know,
anyway?”

Kemble shrugged. “People don’t
realize how much information is available on them. I know how much
the mortgage on the land is, and that you co-signed. He has no
visible means of support and a diagnosis of cirrhosis, so I assume
the mortgage money went to pay medical bills. He gets his medical
care in Ely, except for some specialist visits in Reno. He has an
account at the local store, where he mainly seems to buy liquor.
You pay the bills there as well as the mortgage. You’ve been buying
and selling horses for good prices, especially for that rural area,
but you still need the rodeo purses, so you’ve been entering as
many as you can. You have a cell phone, but you only make emergency
calls or calls related to your horse customers. You don’t have
electricity, at least from a public utility. You get propane
delivered infrequently and in small amounts. You keep a card for
the library in Ely and the one in Fallon.”

Maggie was outraged. Then she
got quiet. “Why do you care?”

“My brother brought you home. He
doesn’t do that with the usual trash he collects.”

The
usual
trash? “I
brought
him
home, as you recall.”

“But once you saw the place you
decided to extend your stay.”

“If we weren’t on a freeway, I’d
stop the truck and make you walk,” she hissed. “What kind of a
thing is that to say?”