Lone Star Magic Page 4

  Alrick let that one go. For all he knew, they trained horses differently here as well. Something in Carly’s face… a look of longing… of uncertainty.

  “I will train him to accept a rider and I’ll teach you to ride him, if you’d like.”

  Her eyes met his, brilliant green shining softly. “I don’t know. I’m not much of a rider…”

  But Alrick knew. Though she felt fear, the part of her that suffered guilt over her beloved husband’s death wanted to accomplish this one thing. For him, in honor of his memory.

  He wondered why he found the thought so galling. And why, in a way he felt like he was lying. He’d told Carly he wanted to stay. But until the Warlord had been neutralized, her No Name Ranch wasn’t safe. Somehow he had to convince Carly to leave.

  Chapter Three

  “YOU REALLY plan to work here?” Carly’s question jolted him out of his thoughts.

  “Of course.” For what time he was here, he would work.

  “There’s a lot to be done.” She watched him carefully, as though she expected him to back out now that she’d given him permission to sleep in the house.

  “I know.” He stretched, noting the way her gaze followed the movement. For now, he’d keep to himself the probability they would have to leave once the Warlord stepped up his attacks. He could protect her better if she wasn’t a sitting target.

  “The place is a mess.” She seemed to be talking to herself, so he didn’t answer. “And I really could use the help. And you did save TM.” Lost in her musings, she absently chewed on her thumbnail. “When can you start?”

  He kept his expression solemn, though he wanted to laugh out loud. “When do you want me to start?”

  “Now is as good a time as any.”

  “Of course.” Pushing himself to his feet, he gestured at the door. “Let’s go outside then.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”

  Some trace of humor must have shown in his face. “Absolutely not. Now is… now. I want you to show me what needs to be done first.”

  “Good.” She swept past him and yanked open the door. “Rebuilding the barn is the first priority. TM needs shelter.”

  As soon as they stepped outside, the searing heat struck him like a slap in the face. In Rune the sun never got so hot. Here the days felt like an inferno, searing the parched earth and turning the once green grass to brown. Little wonder his people had long ago ceased crossing the veil from Rune to visit here.

  “I agree we need to build a new barn.” Once out in the yard, he kept an eye out for the telltale burst of energy that signaled the Warlord. Unlike Alrick, visiting here was not a matter of simply crossing the veil. The Warlord traveled across time to hunt his prey. Carly. If he succeeded in his quest, Carly would perish.

  And the future of Rune would be determined. Not only Rune, if the one known as the Mage was to be believed. What happened to Rune would also affect the human world.

  “There’s a lot, isn’t there?” Her glum voice again drew him out of his thoughts. She sneezed as her dog ran circles around them, kicking up a cloud of dust.

  Glancing around at the ramshackle yard, he nodded. He’d known her ranch had fallen into disrepair; the day before he’d noted the broken fences, peeling paint, and the way her buildings sorely needed repair. And that was before the Warlord had tried to kill her by burning her barn.

  But, as they tramped in the dust over her property and he saw the full extent of the damage caused by neglect, he wanted to curse in frustration.

  “How can I protect you if I am so occupied with repairs?”

  “Trying to back out? Sorry.” She smiled. “I’ll help you. If you’ll show me what to do, that is. If we’re working side by side, you should have no problem keeping an eye on me.”

  Alrick had to admit she had a point. Still, though he was no stranger to hard work and manual labor, he was a prince of Rune, and unused to endeavors of such magnitude. All while constantly being on edge, wondering when the next attack would come. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Really?” Her exaggerated sigh spoke of ebbing patience. “Too bad. It’s too late to back out now. You wanted work – you got work.”

  She was right – he had asked for work as an excuse to stay. Of course, he could use magic to recreate her barn, though the consequences of such an action could be horrific. He’d hate to find out he’d taken out the West Coast by using a spell to make a barn. No, he would use his hands and build the barn the old-fashioned way. With Carly. As long as he could protect her. He mustn’t lose sigh of what was important.

  He drew himself up. “As long as you’re with me at all times, I don’t mind the work.” He let his gaze travel over her slender frame. “Yet I can’t help but wonder if you’ll be up to the task.”

  She blinked. “What? Of course I’m up to helping out.”

  Pointedly, he glanced around the sad little yard. “Your paint is peeling, and there are numerous repairs that must be made. If you are so capable, why have you not done so before now?”

  Carly looked away. “I’ve always been too busy.” She swallowed, head down, and twisted her hands together, before raising her chin to meet his stare. “The truth of the matter is, I haven’t really cared. Since Liam died, every single day has been a struggle.”

  Admitting the truth had cost her, he saw. By the plains of Aldair, was that a tear in her eye? Nearly frantic, Alrick cast about for another subject, something to take her mind of her sorrow and deflect the tears. While he could handle most anything, the one thing he couldn’t was a weeping woman.

  Still, she had given him honesty, at great cost to herself. He owed her nothing less than respect for such a thing. “If you’d claimed a pressing need to complete needlework, or wash or cook or clean, I would’ve understood. But then I’m only acquainted with the ladies of Rune, not with human, `er Texan, ranchers.” Or, he added silently, the mother-to-be of Rune’s savior.

  “Thank you.” Still sniffing, she wiped her eyes with her hand. She was, he realized, as relieved as he over the averted tears.

  “I would like your help. Really.”

  Some of the tension seemed to leave her body. “Okay, then. So we’re going to rebuild the barn. What do we do first?”

  Where the barn had stood was nothing but smoking ash and soot. “Clear away the ash.”

  “I can do that.”

  He looked around. “We’ll need lumber.”

  “I have some – a lot, actually, in the garage. Liam planned to add on to the house before the accident. I think there’s enough to build a new barn, plus nails and paint.”

  Alrick considered himself lucky his father had decreed his education be well rounded. At least he knew how to build things with his hands as well as with his magic. Though he’d always worked with a crew of men, not by himself. And, being Fae, they’d used wooden nails, not metal. Good thing he’d brought gloves.

  “How long do you think it will take?” She looked up at him before glancing away to the field where TM grazed.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never constructed a barn by myself.”

  “You’re not by yourself. I’ll be with you.”

  He couldn’t help smiling. “Have you ever built a barn?”

  “Well, no. But I’m a quick learner.” Rubbing her hands together, she smiled back. “Well, we’d better get started. The weather forecast showed severe thunderstorms later this week.”

  He followed her to see the lumber. There appeared to be enough neatly stacked boards to accomplish their purpose.

  Working under the blazing sun, they cleared the area. The wet ashes and charred remains of her old barn stunk. She handed him a shovel and got busy with her own. Before long, his tunic was plastered to his body, as was Carly’s shirt. They’d finished one huge bottle of water- Carly’d called the plastic jug a cooler – and started on another. Before long, they’d made a nice pile with the ashes, as Carly claimed to have a use for them later. Then they got started on
the actual building. They should have it framed before nightfall. If, he though dizzily, he didn’t collapse from the heat.

  Still, the human woman surprised him. When she’d claimed she’d work side by side, she hadn’t exaggerated. While he nailed boards together to make the frame, she held them steady. He liked the feel of the tool she’d given him – she called it a hammer – and wore his gloves to protect his skin from the little, metal nails. He found they worked much better than the large wooden ones he’d used in Rune.

  By late afternoon, a rudimentary frame was in place. Glad to know they’d soon have some relief from the sun, Alrick watched the fiery orange ball make its way down towards the horizon.

  “Enough for the day.” He pronounced. He’d long since removed his shirt, and the pale skin of his chest had turned a bright red.

  “I think we should go ahead and put up the roof.”

  Draining the last of the third or fourth jug of water, he groaned. “You must be joking.”

  “No.” Her skin looked as red as his. “Even if we have no sides, at least with the roof up, TM can get out of the sun.”

  Alrick wanted to ask how she meant to keep the feisty horse there, since they had no stalls built, but decided to save the questions for later.

  When he climbed on top to begin nailing the roof in place, she followed. For once he was glad of her trousers. If she’d worn the long skirts women of Rune wore, she would never have been able to climb – ah, but the view might have been quite interesting. He forced his thoughts back on track.

  By the time blessed darkness fell, the barn roof had been built and, at Carly’s urging, they’d even begun closing in the sides. They’d stopped to eat thick sandwiches she made with meat and cheese and homemade bread. A sandwich, she’d called it. Though he’d seen such things before, he’d never sampled one. He’d had three, without the meat. When she’d asked why, he’d told her the truth – he didn’t eat the flesh of animals.

  She hadn’t said anything, but he’d seen the strange look she’d directed his way.

  Now the evening air felt good on his skin. Carly announced it was time for supper, a meal that Alrick regarded with great anticipation. If she could prepare such interesting fare as they’d had for the midday meal, what would she come up with for the evening one?

  They washed up side by side at the large kitchen sink. His stomach growled, loudly.

  “Worked up an appetite?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m exhausted.” Splashing water on her face, she let it run down her throat and disappear in the vee of her breasts.

  He quickly looked away. “Will we be sharing all our meals?”

  Her tired smile faded. “Most of the ranches make sure their hired hands are fed.”

  “Hired hands. That implies a payment.”

  “True.” She looked away from him, out the window at the new barn construction. “I’ve already told you I don’t have any money.”

  “And I have already told you I don’t need any. Money, that is. I am not a hired hand. But I could use something to eat.” As if on cue his stomach rumbled.

  “I’d cook something if I had any food.” She indicated the metal box she’d earlier named a fridge. “I need to make a trip to the grocery store. We don’t have anything to eat.”

  Alrick had just lowered himself into a chair, and had been concentrating on avoiding a groan. His body ached in places he hadn’t known could hurt. Now this. “What about those sandwiches you made earlier?”

  “Knock yourself out.” Again she pointed to the fridge. “All the stuff’s in there.”

  “What about you? You must be hungry.”

  She rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess. More than anything, I’m tired. I’m going to lie down.” She moved past him, into one of the rooms down the hall. “I need to rest.”

  She also had to eat. With the Warlord on the move, she had to keep up her strength. “I’ll knock when it’s ready.” “Great.” Her disinterested reply sounded anything but. Then she closed the door in his face.

  For the space of a heartbeat, Alrick stared at the wooden door. Using magic tempted him greatly. If he were allowed unlimited use of his magic, conjuring up a feast would entail no more than a snap of his fingers.

  But he knew better. Best to save the spells for times of dire need.

  Shaking his head, he made a quick sweep of the kitchen. The countertops, made of painted wood, gleamed – in direct contrast to the condition of the barn, which had burned. And there was an oven, with several knobs and no kindling to make a fire. Luckily, making sandwiches didn’t require cooking. Even if he did figure out how to work her oven, he had no idea how to cook. In Rune his father had employed a small army of chefs to prepare the meals.

  Too bad he couldn’t have brought one with him.

  The fridge with its gleaming metal doors stood next to the oven. Slipping his hands back into the gloves, he opened them both.

  Carly had spoken truth. The fridge was virtually empty, save for a loaf of bread, cheese, and a container of meat.

  While the meat turned his stomach, he was pleased to find the bread and the cheese had both already been sliced.

  A short while later, with a towering platter of sandwiches on the table, Alrick knocked on her door. She didn’t answer.

  He knocked again.

  Still no answer.

  Quietly, he turned the knob and opened the door. It made a little creak. Inside the room, he saw Carly, facedown on her bed. Deeply asleep. In front of an unprotected window.

  He cursed himself for not forcing her to take better precautions. But then she didn’t really believe him, did she? She didn’t know how powerful or how evil the Warlord could be.

  A sound from the bed drew his attention. Carly stretched and rolled over. Alrick glanced at her, then looked again. She was lovely. Her curly blonde hair fanned out over the pillow. This time he cursed himself again for finding her so enticing.

  “Carly.” He called her name softly. “Wake up. Time to eat.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Carly.” He moved closer, carefully grabbing her foot and shaking her. She groaned. Despite his best efforts, his body stirred. Bad timing. Awful as hell.

  He gave her foot another shake. “Car—.”

  The window imploded in a shower of glass.

  Alrick threw himself on top of Carly, shielding her with his body.

  He looked up. Saw the long silhouette of a man outside the broken window. Black coat. Long, scraggly gray hair. The Warlord. Their enemy flickered and wavered. Not solid yet. Yet.

  Alrick yanked Carly off the bed. Her terrified gaze flicked from him to the man outside the window.

  While he carried his sword and bow, the Warlord was not solid. Truly, Alrick had no defense against him other than magic. And no way to know how to use it to fight such a threat. Until he knew more, best to play it safe. In the space of a heartbeat, he decided.

  “Run!” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her along after him.

  They hit the front door without breaking stride. Outside they’d be wide open, exposed, but better that than trapped inside her small, frame house.

  They ran for the fields, Kayo keeping pace, running for the shelter provided by a shallow outcropping of trees. TM saw them coming and trotted over to meet then, whinnying a greeting. When they dashed into the small forest, the stallion accompanied them, staying close behind Alrick.

  Dropping to the ground, chest heaving, Carly glanced back over her shoulder. “I don’t see him.”

  Alrick looked too. He no longer sensed magic. “He was not all the way here. That is why his shape flickered.”

  “He broke my window. I’d say he was definitely here.”

  “Yes, temporarily. Astrally, not physically. Traveling through time and space takes a great deal of energy.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Right. Explain this, Mister Magic. Who the hell was that guy?”

  Maybe this time, having seen with her own eyes,
she’d believe him. Despite her sarcasm. “The Warlord. He’s the one who wants to kill you.”

  “Damn. I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “He’s a powerful enemy, though he travels through time to reach you.”

  “Through time? What?”

  “The Warlord is from the future.”

  Incomprehension danced across Carly’s mobile face. “That’s what you said before, but I didn’t think you were serious. The future,” she repeated. “Now I’ve heard it all.”

  He ignored her last statement. “This is why he cannot yet become solid. Time travel is difficult and requires a lot of magical power. Not to mention the disasters such use causes in your world.”

  “Disasters?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Earthquakes. Tsunamis. Hurricanes. Volcanoes erupting. Any time magic is used in your world, weather reacts. I think this is why there was a rainstorm so soon after the fireball and lightening bolt.”

  She dragged her shaking hand across her forehead. “That’s too much for me.”

  “You’d better accept the truth. The Warlord has not been able to turn his full might on you. But soon, he will manage to bring his entire self here. Then, he will not trifle with fireballs or exploding glass. He will use every weapon in his arsenal to attempt to kill you.”

  She sat up at that. “Weapon? You say he’s from the future. Does he have ray guns or stun guns or what?”

  “If he does, he cannot bring such things here if they are made of metal or plastic. Items made by men will not travel through time. This battle will have to be fought with magic.”

  She groaned. “More rules. Do you have some sort of rule-book, like a board game?”

  “No. They just are.”

  “So you both know them? No one has to sit down each side and tell them the rules?”

  He decided to put it into words that she’d understand. “If your country goes to war, do both sides know not to use nuclear weapons?”

  “Of course. Everyone knows once you do that, you’ll have a… a… I see.”

  “It’s the same with this. If the Warlord wishes to kill you, he must do it with magic.”