Space Magic (23 page)

“But Caroline, back in the arena...”

“I completely missed how badly you were hurt. If I mess up your knee healing it, they’ll have to do surgery to put it right! You could be out of commission for six months!”

“So? Six
hours
is enough to lose our shot at the Nationals. I won’t let my stupid mistake mess up your career.”

“Screw my career!”

“Please, Caroline!” She reached out and took Caroline’s hand. “Please.”

Caroline didn’t pull away. Her hand was very warm and moist in Misty’s; her long strong fingers almost overwhelmed Misty’s tiny delicate ones. “Okay,” she said at last. “But only if it’s what
you
want. Not your mother.”

Misty held Caroline’s hand tighter. “This is what I want.”

The two of them rearranged themselves in the tiny space so that Caroline could lay both hands on Misty’s knee. They were trembling. Misty put her hands over Caroline’s. “It’s okay,” she said. “I trust you.”

“I know. But if I hurt you...”

“If you do, it’ll be because I asked you to.”

Caroline nodded and took a deep breath. Then she began to murmur, words as soft and convoluted as the inside of a unicorn’s ear. At first Caroline’s hands were cool on the heat of the injured knee, but then they began to warm—a deep thrumming warmth that resonated in Misty’s bones. The heat of the injury was absorbed in that warmth, the shards of hot glass cooling and softening as Misty’s knee relaxed back to normal. It was like music—the harsh jangled vibrations caught up and subsumed in the melody of Caroline’s magic—a melody woven of Caroline’s hands and her soft voice. It echoed low in Misty’s belly. Misty sighed and closed her eyes.

As the swelling subsided, the warmth spread up Misty’s leg and across her torso until it reached her heart and flowed to every part of her. She felt the rhythm of Caroline’s words in her own pulse—each stronger for the other’s presence.

“Misty...?”

Caroline never called Misty by name... “Blondie,” “Shorty,” but never, ever “Misty.” She opened her eyes.

Caroline was looking at her with bottomless dark eyes. Her hands were wrapped around Misty’s knee, almost reverently. She was trembling again, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her face. “Misty... are you all right?”

“Better than all right.” She leaned forward and slid her hands around the back of Caroline’s neck, sliding forward until their bodies meshed. “Caroline...”

Caroline began to pull away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“This is what I want.” And she kissed her.

-o0o-

Misty drifted slowly awake to Caroline’s warm clean smell and the softness of her breast against Misty’s cheek. The whole length of Caroline’s long lean body was fitted smoothly against her, skin touching skin, and her arms enclosed Misty with gentle protectiveness. Misty sighed in contentment... but when she moved, like hitting the sand in the arena, it was going to hurt. Caroline would wake up, and the moment would be over, and Misty couldn’t stand the thought of it.

The general public had a lot of misconceptions about unicorns, but the virginity trip was the real deal. Unicorns didn’t share. The women around them were their herds, and they would brook no competition or threat to those they loved. Anyone not a virgin who tried to mount a unicorn was taking her life in her hands.

Misty’s career was over.

Caroline’s arms tightened around her. Holding on. Misty tipped up her head to look at Caroline’s face, and saw tears in her eyes.

In all the years they’d lived together in trailer after trailer, Misty had never seen Caroline cry. No matter what cruel, horrible thing Mother said to her, Caroline pinched her lips together and sucked it down.

Misty brushed the tears off Caroline’s cheek. “Don’t cry, Caroline. It’s okay.”

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Misty’s hair. “It’s
not
okay,” she whispered, her voice broken. “I’ve ruined your whole life.”

“It’s only my life so far.” Misty shifted so she could look Caroline in the eye. “And you didn’t do anything to me. I’m the one who started it, remember? I think I’ve wanted this for a long time, even if I didn’t know that until today.” And she kissed her—trying to show Caroline that it really was all right, even though she wasn’t sure herself.

Caroline kissed back with a desperate edge she hadn’t shown before. She tasted of salt. She smelled of Misty.

Misty stroked Caroline’s hair, gentling her down from desperation and murmuring vague reassurances. “We’ll be all right. We’ll be all right.”

“How?” Caroline’s voice was muffled against Misty’s breast. “What do we do now?”

Misty took a deep breath. “Right now we’re going to get up and take Vulcan a drink. He’s been tied out there for three hours without any water. Then we’re going to both get through the shower before Mother shows up.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll handle Mother. She’s not your problem any more.”

Caroline swallowed. “Okay. I’ll take care of Vulcan while you hit the shower.” She gave a rueful little smile. “Too bad there isn’t room for both of us at once.” Then she kissed Misty on the neck and slid out of bed, leaving a cold vacancy behind.

Once she was alone, Misty gathered the sheets into a wad in her lap, hunching herself into a tiny ball and rocking back and forth.

Her career was over.

No more trophies. No more spotlight. No more photographers. No more reporters watching her.

Imagine that.

No more having to act twelve. No more biting back what she wanted to say because it wasn’t “nice.” No more of Mother dressing her in fucking
pink
Wranglers.

And no more Caroline.

Even if she couldn’t train unicorns any more, Caroline could make a perfectly good living working with horses. Once she realized what Misty had done to her, she wouldn’t want to hang around a short, skinny ex-unicorn-rider who’d cost her a good job.

Misty’d always tried not to think about what would happen when she couldn’t ride anymore. The very few riders who didn’t grow up and get married became trainers, living like sisters in a closed monastic order. That never had been attractive to Misty before—she didn’t have the patience for training—and it sure as hell wasn’t an option now.

She didn’t want to pop out babies for some goat-roper, and she didn’t want to move to Dallas and marry the rich son of one of Daddy’s friends.

She wanted Caroline.

But she didn’t want Caroline to see her like this. She dried her eyes on a corner of the sheet, pulled herself together, and headed for the shower.

Three minutes later the water was turning lukewarm, and Misty shut it off to leave a little for Caroline. She poked her head out of the closet of a bathroom. Caroline hadn’t come in yet.

How long could it take to get a pail of water?

Heart in her throat, Misty yanked a clean pair of jeans out of the drawer and struggled to pull them up her damp legs. Had Vulcan mauled her? Caroline was the best, but she’d never dealt with unicorns in a less-than-virginal state before. Misty fumbled with the buttons on her shirt as she headed for the door, afraid she’d find Caroline bleeding into the sawdust on the stall floor, but as she put her hand on the latch the door opened under it. It was Caroline.

“What took you so long?” Misty shouted. “I thought you were dead!”

Caroline pushed Misty gently back and closed the door firmly behind her. “Misty, maybe it doesn’t count.”

“What?”

“What we did. I’m not sure it
matters
.”

“Well, it mattered to me!”

“Me too, but I meant
Vulcan
.”

“Oh.” Misty paused. “Huh?”

“He was really snappish, but he let me water him and feed him.”

“What do you mean, ‘snappish’?”

“He growled a lot, and pushed me into the wall, and he tried to bite me twice. But he could just be pissed at being locked up all day.”

“Did you try to get on him?”

“I...” Caroline looked down. “No.”

“Did you even take off the cross-ties?”

Caroline shook her head and didn’t look up. “No. Didn’t have the guts.”

Misty sat down hard on the dinette bench. She didn’t know what to think... Didn’t know if she could afford to hope... Didn’t even know if she
wanted
to hope.

And then came a familiar screech of “Misty!” The door slammed open, revealing Misty’s mother beaming in carnivorous glee. “Misty, you’ll never guess!”

Misty’s heart tried to climb up her throat. “Mother!” she squeaked.

But Mother was on a roll, and didn’t notice that half the buttons on Misty’s shirt were in the wrong buttonholes. “Mary Frances Schwartz got herself gored!”

Caroline paled. “Omigod!”

Misty said, “Is she okay?”

“Oh, she’s at the hospital, I’m sure she’ll be fine. The point is,
she can’t ride
! Probably not for months! And with her out of the way, all you have to do is not fall off the stupid animal again, and we’ll win the Nationals!” She grabbed Misty by the cheeks and pinched hard. “We’ll win!” she sing-songed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “We’ll get our first National championship!”

Misty couldn’t keep the image of little Mary Frances torn open and bleeding out of her mind. It was too close to what she’d visualized happening to Caroline. “How did it happen?”

“The stupid little tart kissed a boy. Can you believe it?” She shook her head, and over her shoulder Misty saw Caroline’s face drop into an expression of anxiety and dismay. “Now look, we have to get you into your outfit right away. There are going to be lots of photographers waiting in the warm-up arena and my little angel will have to be
perfect
.” She turned to Caroline. “And so does Vulcan, so
you’d
better get to work instead of loitering around the trailer.” But her habitual nastiness lacked its usual edge—blunted by the thought of Misty’s ensuing triumph. She began to fuss at Misty’s hair. “What, you’ve only just showered?” She made a sound of tried patience.

Caroline didn’t move. She just stared as though she was afraid she’d never see Misty alive again.

Without turning, Misty’s mother said, “I thought I told you to get to work.”

Caroline blew a shaky kiss to Misty and headed for the barn. Misty opened her mouth to call Caroline back, to say, “Don’t go,” but Mother started to unbutton Misty’s shirt.

“Good God, child, you’re all crooked!”

In her panic over Caroline, Misty hadn’t had time to put on a bra. She snatched the front of her shirt closed, backing towards the bedroom. “I can dress myself, Mother.”

“Well, you can’t prove it by me! Now hurry up, we have to do your hair.”

Misty shut the folding door and swallowed her heart back down to its proper position. Her show outfit was hanging on the wall in its protective bag, and the white hat with its pink rhinestone hatband was still in its box on the shelf. She dressed in a daze, more out of habit than conviction.

What could she say? What could she do? What
should
she do? Would Vulcan even let her mount? She wasn’t sure which she feared more—Vulcan’s horn or her mother’s tongue. At least if Vulcan attacked her she’d be dead.

At last she emerged, fully decked out in gleaming white and glittering pink. Her mother looked up from polishing Misty’s pink Ropers. “There’s my angel!”

Misty thought she might throw up.

Her mother took her by the shoulders and looked seriously into her face. “You’re gonna make me so proud.”

Misty wanted to say “let’s just get this over with.” But she put on the best smile she could muster and said, “Thanks.”

Caroline had Vulcan saddled and ready to go. He tossed his head and sidled, ears back and lips taut. Misty reached out to stroke his neck and he snapped at her. “Easy,” she crooned, but he twitched away from her touch.

Misty’s mother cast a disgusted eye at Vulcan. “What on Earth is wrong with that animal?” He growled and snapped at her. Mother backed away and turned to Caroline. “You keep him under control, do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She didn’t sound at all certain.

Mother turned back to Misty, her face aglow, and squealed “I’ll see you in the ring!”

Once Misty’s mother had left, Vulcan sniffed and snuffled Misty all over. She was used to that—she was covered in hairspray and powder for the show ring—but today his examination seemed more intrusive, more urgent. “What do you think, big fella?”

He snorted, which wasn’t exactly an answer.

Caroline said, “Don’t do this, Misty. Mary Frances got gored just for
kissing
a boy.”

“You’re not a boy.” She reached for Caroline’s hand, but before she could touch her Vulcan tossed his head and growled. “Whoa! Easy, boy!”

Working together, with pats and whispers and lumps of beef jerky, they managed to get him calmed down a bit. Eventually he let Misty rub his ears and scratch at the base of his horn.

“I don’t know...” Misty said, stroking Vulcan’s warm cheek. “Maybe he’s just a little out of sorts. I think... I think I could ride him.”

“And you could get killed trying.” Caroline’s eyes glistened. “I don’t want to lose you!”

“You won’t.” Misty drew herself up to her full four-foot-eleven. “Not ever. But I have to do this, Caro. I have to try.” She started walking.

After a moment Caroline followed, with Vulcan in tow.

They walked Vulcan up to the gate and checked in with the gate steward. He winked and gave them a thumbs-up. Misty smiled weakly back at him.

“Good luck.” Caroline’s voice was trembling as she handed Misty the reins.

Their fingers met briefly on the reins, and Misty stood abruptly up on tiptoe to kiss Caroline on the cheek. Caroline looked surprised, then a smile spread across her face. The expression made Misty’s throat close up and her heart turn over. Flashbulbs stabbed through the semi-dark at them.

Caroline turned toward the stands, stroking her kissed cheek as she walked away.

Misty stood alone in the crowd of unicorns and riders, waiting in the shadow beneath the announcer’s booth. A pall of apprehension hovered over them, riders pale and unicorns skittish—the usual pre-class jitters amplified in the wake of Mary Frances’ accident. No one spoke.