Retribution (44 page)

“I'm a social pariah,” she mumbled.
 

He frowned as he took her hand, dusting off the leftover grain. “I understand why you feel that way, and for a lot of nomadic magicians, that's how it turns out. They live disconnected and unfulfilled lives, or they misuse their magic to compensate for their insecurities, and most of them suffer depression. You, my beautiful angel,” he said, pulling her to her feet, “were very sad when I met you, but you weren’t lost. Your determination, along with Travis and Phyllis, kept you grounded. But your natural response is to hold things in.”

“Do you think I'll ever adjust?”

He smiled as he led her toward the next enclosure. “You already have.”

“A little, but not much.”

“That's not true. When we first met, you had to make yourself to look at me.”

“Nuh-uh,” she argued. “I couldn't keep my eyes off you.”

His dimples deepened. “As long as I wasn't looking back.”

Her cheeks flushed as she dropped her gaze to the ground. “I did look at you.”

He reached up, lightly tugging on her pout with his thumb. “I know you did. You were committed to making eye contact, but in the beginning, you had to force yourself to do it. You got better about that pretty fast, though. You were boldly meeting my stare by the time I left you at Karena’s inn.”

“But you can't count yourself, Quin. Of course I've gotten better around you. I've spent nearly every minute of the past sixteen days with you, and you make me feel safe, not insecure. And not only am I in love with you, but I know, without a doubt, that you're in love with me. You've been yanking my feelings to the surface since that first night, but you always replace them with kindness, making me feel loved. And you never judge me, so I know there's nothing to be afraid of when you crack me open. I know that for every emotion you yank out of me, you'll replace it with something special, and that's why I'm not afraid with you. Just being near you makes me stronger, and being in your arms gets me through things that would make me crumble otherwise. But I'm still a mess around other people, and there are still times when I feel like I'm not getting any air in until I bury my face in you and hide from them.”

He pulled her closer and kissed her head. “It makes my heart soar to hear you say such wonderful things about me, Layla, but I have to disagree with your comment about not getting better around the others, because it's not true. I've watched you do things around them that other witches would be hesitant to do, and I've seen you speak up and meet challenges when dozens of eyes were on you. When you find a point to focus on, you forget to hide. Then you're the same person around them that you are around me.” He paused and flashed deep dimples. “Well, almost the same. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who can get you to bare it all.”
 

She smiled, too. “You're good at breaking me open. You have been from the beginning, partly because you're stubborn and refuse to let me hide, and partly because you've been treating me like a princess since the moment I met you.”

“That's because I was dying to make you my queen the moment I met you.”

“Would you say you've succeeded?”

“I can say with conviction that I have.”

He opened a gate leading into a large corral, and a flock of sheep trotted closer. A few bleats rang out, and Layla giggled as they pushed at her hands and legs with wooly heads. She looked up to smile at Quin, but her attention was diverted to the other animals staring at her. The large enclosure was separated into four smaller areas, and each one contained one or two different species. Aside from the sheep, there were ducks and swans swimming in a pond, and another pen held a donkey and several fat goats. But it was the biggest pen that captured Layla's interest, and she soon found herself floating toward it in an emotional trance.

On the other side of the fence, stood nine adult alpacas and three babies, all of them watching her with shiny, black eyes. She landed a few feet away, then slowly walked forward, trying not to scare them, but the precaution was unnecessary. The soft creatures were eager to get close and nudged one another out of the way in attempts to make it so. Quin landed beside her and reached over the fence, drawing the attention of two of them, but the others continued to vie for Layla's affection.

Eyes growing moist, she reached out, carefully petting the snouts of the gentle beasts. “I had no idea.”

“About what?” Quin asked.

“That we have alpacas,” she answered. “When did you start keeping them? Because my mom had never been around one until she met my dad.”

“I guess you saw that in their memories?”

“Yes. He took her to an alpaca farm on their first date.”

“I wasn't aware you knew about that.”

“You knew about it?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “It's why we have them now.”

“What do you mean?”

He picked her up then flew to the outside edge of the fence, and the alpacas followed, resuming their struggle for attention. “This is one reason I wanted to bring you here,” he said, removing a framed picture from a white wooden post.

He held it out, and she took it, looking down on a remarkably clear photograph of a blonde alpaca. Below the picture, inscribed in gold lettering, was her name – Oriana. Layla looked from the photo to Quin. “What's this?”

“Oriana was the first alpaca we got. She was a wedding gift for your mom from your dad, but Rhosewen never got her.”

Layla's gaze returned to the picture. “Why not?”

“Aedan bought her from the same farm he took Rhosewen to in Virginia, but Oriana wasn't born yet, and he'd specifically ordered a blonde female. She was born a month before you, the first of February, but we didn't get her until the following September.”

“So my mom never even knew about her?”

“No.”

“That's sad.”

“It’s bittersweet,” Quin agreed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

She blinked back tears, unwilling to blur her view of Oriana. “I guess she's not alive anymore?”

“No. She died last year. But seven of these are her babies,” he added, motioning to the adult alpacas.

Layla looked at the creatures, swallowing an emotional lump as she watched them push each other out of the way. “They're beautiful.”

“Yes they are. We're blessed your dad brought them into our family.”

She turned her attention back to the photo. “Who named her?”

“Morrigan. The Irish meaning is blonde or golden, and the Latin meaning is rising sun.”
 

“It's pretty.”

He tucked a curl behind her ear and touched a forefinger to her flushed cheek. “It could have been your name.”

“What?” she asked, looking back up.

“Your parents had two names picked out for you,” he explained. “One for if you were dark and beautiful like your dad, and one for if you were fair and beautiful...”

“Like my mom,” she finished, remembering the discussion her parents had held with Katherine about naming her.

“Yes,” Quin confirmed. “Oriana was the name you would have gotten if you'd been golden like your mom, so that's what Morrigan named Rhosewen's alpaca six months after you were born dark and beautiful.”

“Oriana Love,” she said, testing the name. “Not quite the same, huh?”

He took the picture and magically adhered it to the post. Then he wrapped her in a hug. “No it's not. I've gotten used to calling you Layla Love, and I can't imagine it any other way.”

She kissed his heart then laid her cheek against it, resuming her watch over the alpacas. “I can't believe this place, Quin. It really is like a dreamland.”

“You haven't seen it all yet.”

“I know, but it's already perfect. I’d love to spend more time here when we get the chance.”

“Then that's what we'll do. So would you like to stay here with the alpacas? Or would you like to check out the barn?”

“Both, but I guess I'll settle for the barn. I want to see the horses before we have to go back.”

He picked her up and flew to the barn, magically opening a door to the right of the large double-doors. Then he entered an office area that was completely void of anything official. Set up like a quaint coffee shop, it had cushy armchairs and bookshelves instead of a desk and filing cabinets. Quin flew past it all, making his way through another door. Then a light flipped on as he landed in a wide open area with stalls on three sides.

He lowered her feet to the floor, and she looked around with wide eyes. She was definitely in a barn, but it didn't smell like a barn, and it certainly wasn't dirty like a barn. Not one speck of hay was out of place, not one spider web hung in the rafters, and not even the thinnest layer of dust covered the floor or wall hangings. And not only was the building spotless, but the animals were shiny, too. Every horse had a perfect mane and coat that brightly reflected the overhead lights, and the dairy cows' black spots were so glossy, they looked like marble.

Layla grinned as she slowly shook her head. “Is it really a barn when you can eat off the floor?”

He laughed as he led her to one of the stalls. “I'm going to say yes, but others might disagree.”

He halted and reached out, touching the snout of a dark and lustrous bay horse, and Layla moved closer to the gate, standing on her toes to look at the equine's body. Its coat was almost the exact same color as Quin's hair in the sun – dark brown with a touch of amber, but the horse was a bit lighter. She also noted the color of its mane, tail, and lower quarters were like her hero's eyes in the dark – black with the slightest brown still visible when they caught the light.
 

“Is this one yours?” she asked, running her hand down its sleek neck.

“Yes. His name is Arion.”

“He's beautiful.”
 

“Thank you.” The horse nudged Quin's hand, then his face, and Quin nudged back. “He misses me.”

Layla offered the horse a sympathetic pout. “I'm sorry, Arion. It's my fault.”

The horse looked at her for a moment. Then he gently nudged her cheek before returning his attention to Quin. “I've had him since he was born,” Quin revealed. “He's the son of my mom's mare.”

“That worked out well.”

“Yes it did. I was here when he was born, so we've been together every step of the way. He'll be four years old in two months.”

“I bet he has missed you then.”

The horse snorted and twitched his head, as if to agree, and Quin laughed. “Yes, but he'll have to wait to get the attention he wants. I have more important things going on right now.”

He gently patted Arion's snout. Then he led Layla along the three rows of stalls, letting her get a glimpse of all fifteen horses and the six dairy cows.

“Do you know how to milk them?” she asked, pointing to one of the glistening cows.

“Sure,” he answered.

She humorously crinkled her nose. “Really?”

“Yes. Is that weird?”

“No, but I didn't peg you as a farm boy.”

“I'm not. Farmers work hard all day and keep up with way more land and livestock than we have. There are over twenty of us here, and we keep a few animals because we like them. Milking a cow here isn't a chore. It's an interesting experience that provides an appreciation for nature's gifts, and there are so many of us around, we don’t have to do it if we don't feel like it, because someone else will feel like doing it that day. I'll teach you how sometime if you want to learn.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “It's funny, I lived in a state known for its farms and cattle ranches all those years without getting personal with a cow, and now that I'm in Oregon, I'm going to learn how to milk one. Seems backward.”

He laughed as he led her away from the cows. “Yes it does. You should be showing me the ropes right now. I can imagine it, my cowgirl from Oklahoma showing me how a real farm should be handled while laughing at our pitiful excuse for a barn.”

She smiled, imagining herself decked out like the rodeo queen she once aspired to be. “What would you have done if I'd shown up at Cinnia's café wearing a cowboy hat and boots?”

“What do you mean? I would have done the same thing.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think cowgirls are sexy?”

“I think you're sexy.”

“Even with a huge hat on my head?”

He halted in the middle of the barn and turned her toward him. “I'm telling you, Layla, you could vanish your hair, and I’d still think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I’d miss it, though,” he added, running his fingers into her curls. “I love your hair.”

“Believe me, it's not going anywhere.
Ever
. I have an odd emotional attachment to it.”

“That's because it's perfect, and I’m sure it would look gorgeous with a hat.”

“I know what we should do,” she excitedly suggested. “Someday, we should both dress up and go to a rodeo. Just for fun.”

“Okay. The next time a rodeo comes around, we'll dress appropriately and go country for the night.”

She flashed an indulged grin and raised her eyebrows. “Playing dress up is fun.”