The Ranger (Time Masters Book 5), page 17
His head cocked slightly to one side. “Little one,” he said, his voice so soft she went weak in the knees. “You will tell me if you are feeling unwell.”
It was not a question. “Um, yes?”
He gave her the gentlest smile she’d ever seen from him. “That is good.” He started walking, putting a hand to the small of her back to get her going. His hand was like fire and warmed her entire being. How could that be?
“You okay, Maida?” Grandma asked. She eyed Markhel.
He smiled back.
Maida kept looking between the two as she was sandwiched in the middle. “I’m fine.” She was more than fine. She felt fantastic! Though he’d removed his hand, her body was still deliciously warm from his touch. Was this normal? If it was, she didn’t dare ask Mama or Grandma Sadie. Her gut told her they didn’t approve of Markhel. One more reason she needed to get it through her calf-eyed brain that nothing could come of being sweet on the man. He was leaving with the Bergs, and her family wouldn’t approve of him anyway. He was too wild and dangerous. Or at least, he looked that way. But after what she just saw, the gentle look, the tender words, she knew he would never harm her.
They reached the mercantile and went inside. “Irene?” Grandma called.
“I’m in the back!”
“Come along younguns.” Grandma headed for the curtain that separated the front and back of the mercantile.
Maida stepped through, glanced at the staircase that went up to the Dunnigans’ living quarters, then followed Grandma. Mrs. Dunnigan was bent over a bucket of wet paint. She also had a rolled-up piece of white canvas nearby.
Grandma looked at it and clapped her hands. “Why Irene, is that what I think it is?”
Mrs. Dunnigan straightened with a huff. “It is. I got tired of folks using sheets for banners. Makes us look uncivilized. So I ordered a few street banners that we can re-use. All you have to do is paint them white again and they’re ready for another use.”
““Wonderful!” Grandma pointed at it. “Markhel, take that.”
He picked it up without a word.
“Why not paint it back here?” Mrs. Dunnigan suggested. “There’s room enough. Just don’t get paint on my floor.”
Grandma looked around. “Fine. But just in case, you got something to cover the floor with?”
Mrs. Dunnigan huffed again then disappeared upstairs. She wasn’t gone long before Wilfred, her husband came down.
Maida smiled. She loved Wilfred Dunnigan. He was a kindly old man with a twinkle in his eye, and about the only person in town who could handle his wife when she became extra cranky. But over the last couple of years, she’d hadn’t been as crochety. Everyone thought she was getting grouchier because she was losing her hearing, but that seemed to be better too.
“Markhel, set the banner down,” Grandma said, “and let’s find the blue paint. Irene done got the red already.”
Maida watched him put the banner on the floor. He looked at her as he straightened and smiled.
She smiled back, a blush creeping into her cheeks. It was nice getting to spend some time with him, and she hoped no one interrupted them while they worked.
“Well,” Wilfred drawled. “If it ain’t Mr. Markhel. “Where have you been?”
Markhel smiled at him. “Elsewhere.”
Wilfred laughed. “Far away, I take it?”
“Very.”
Wilfred laughed some more. “I understand. We’ll have to have a little visit later.” He smiled at Maida. “How about you, how have you been?”
“Very well, thank you, but I don’t’ see why you’re asking. I was just in here the other day.”
Wilfred scratched the back of his head and gave Markhel a nervous look. “A lot can happen in a few days. Markhel’s in town, for one, and as I understand it, Andel and Maddie’s youngest. Ain’t had a chance to see him and his bride yet, and they haven’t come in here as far as I know.”
“We have been preoccupied.” Markhel said.
He smiled at her, and she blushed again. “Yes, they’ve been at the ranch with us.”
“Oh, I see. They would want to visit with you all first. But don’t forget about the rest of us. I’m sure there’s a lot of folks that would love to meet Maddie and Andel’s son and his new wife.”
“They wish to meet a lot of people while they are here,” Markhel said. “It is one of the reasons they have volunteered to help prepare for the dance.”
“Ah, yes, the dance. I heard about that.”
“From Fanny, no doubt,” Grandma said. She glanced at the staircase. “Where’s that Irene?”
“Go up and find out,” Wilfred suggested.
“I will.” Grandma headed for the staircase and disappeared up the stairwell.
Wilfred stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked toe to heel a few times. “So, would the two of you like a peppermint stick?”
She was delightful. It was the only word that came to mind. Markhel knelt by the banner, a paintbrush in his hand. He’d battled the biggest Sarian warriors, had taken on outlaws, and was trained for battle among other things. But nothing prepared him for painting a banner in the back of a general store with his future mate. He had no idea what to do or say and tried not to stumble over his words. She was intoxicating and deliciously peaceful. She dripped with it, and just being near her calmed him.
But it hadn’t been this way the last couple of days. No, this was new, and he liked it. He was always on high alert, his heightened ranger senses on the lookout for danger. But when he was with Maida, he found he could relax and just be. It was a great gift, and he was beginning to understand why she was a good match for him.
“Your brush is dripping,” she stated.
He smiled and wiped the excess off into the can of paint. “Thank you for informing me.”
She smiled, fighting against a giggle. She’d been doing that a lot the last fifteen minutes. “It’s strange you being here.”
He sat back on his heels and admired his work. He’d written the words in English, but his lettering was done with a Muiraran flourish. He thought it looked sloppy, but Maida told him a moment ago she thought it looked divine. “How so?”
“You’re painting a banner for the dance with me,” she said. “It seems strange.”
“I still do not understand why? We are working toward a mutual end.”
She laughed. “What does that mean?”
He smiled. Again. When had he ever smiled so much? “We are working together to see it done.”
“Oh, well, why didn’t you just say so?” She bit her lip as she blushed, and he let his eyes roam over her. She was no longer pale, so the food did her good. Which made him think. “When you were dizzy earlier and fainted, did you experience any pain?”
She blinked in surprise. “What? Why do you want to know?”
“I was just curious. Certain... ailments are accompanied by pain. I’ve suffered some myself.”
“Recently?” She asked with concern. “Are you feeling all right now?”
“I am. Thank you for your concern.” He could see it in her eyes, and his chest warmed knowing she was concerned for him.
He returned his attention to the banner. They were almost done. “The paint will dry soon then we can hang it.”
“That’s going to be the tricky part.” She finished the flower petal she was painting on one corner of the banner. “Will you teach me how to write like that?”
He looked at the banner. It simply said, “Barn Dance on Saturday, Triple-C Ranch”. Maida had painted the time of the dance in the lower right-hand corner, then put flowers in the other three. “I can, if you’d like. But it is just my normal handwriting.”
“Yes, but the letters are so...different. They’re pretty.”
A deep chuckle escaped him. “No one has called my handwriting pretty. It is, in fact, sloppy compared to say, my brother’s.”
She got off her knees and sat on the floor instead. “Where do you come from?”
He set his brush on the can of paint. “From someplace far away.”
“How far?”
“Too far for you to have heard of it.”
“That far?” Her blush went beyond her cheeks this time. “Will you go back there soon?”
“I hope to.” He wiped his hands on the denims he was wearing and climbed to his feet. He offered her a hand. “Come, we should wash the brushes, then return them to the fierce warrior woman who owns this establishment.”
She laughed and fell over.
“Maida,” he said in alarm and knelt beside her.
She sat up. “I’m sorry. I was just laughing at what you said.”
He still looked her over, trying to sense if she’d injured herself. “You are all right?”
She sat up. “Of course.”
“But you fell.”
“No, silly, I laughed and let myself fall.”
He cocked his head. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s fun.”
“Fun?” What humans conceived as fun, he often questioned.
“Yes, don’t you do things for fun?”
He thought a moment. What did he consider fun? Hmmm, he didn’t know. He was always patrolling, scouting, or delivering justice for the king. He supposed spending time with Melvale was fun. His brother could be very entertaining. “Fun.” he said the word as if he were trying it out for the first time.
“Don’t tell me you never have fun?” she said, aghast.
“I am familiar with the concept.”
She made a funny noise he took for amusement.
“Does that surprise you?” he asked.
“You’re full of all kinds of surprises.” She looked at the paintbrushes. “You’re right, we should clean them.”
He got to his feet and offered his hand again.
She stared at it a moment, then took it. Her hand was small, delicate, and sent his heart reeling. How could this innocent young woman affect him so? Yes, part of it was the Call, but his inner heart had barely woken. They would inevitably be drawn to each other, but he sensed that hadn’t started yet. No, this was something different and he liked it. He liked her. She was...free. That was the word, and didn’t try to conform to everything around her. She was clumsy, a little self-conscious as most humans were, but also took everything in stride, and wasn’t afraid to ask questions when she was curious. He liked that.
“Come, little one. Follow me.” He grabbed a bucket he spied in a corner, then their brushes, and headed out back. He knew a pump located there that the Dunnigans used before adding plumbing to the mercantile some years ago.
He filled the bucket with water, then washed the brushes as Maida sat on the back steps and watched. When the job was done, he dumped the bucket, washed it out, then took everything back inside. Maida had been silent the whole time, and he wondered if she was okay.
“Do you need something?” he asked.
“No.” She looked at the banner. “I wonder where Wilfred keeps his ladder?”
“You are fine?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
He looked her over. “Hmmm...”
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
His brow creased. “I am concerned for you.”
“Why?”
“Because...” what should he say? “You are...special to me.”
She sucked in a tiny bit of air as her eyes widened. “I-I am?”
Uh-oh, should he not have said that? But it was true. “Yes.”
A warm smile slowly curved her lips. “Thank you.” She smiled again and looked away. Was she embarrassed? Her face was becoming so red.
“How are things going down here?” Wilfred asked as he re-joined them. He’d given them their candy earlier, then disappeared upstairs. Neither Grandma nor Irene had returned.
Markhel knew they were buying him time with Maida. Thank the Creator for that. He needed a lot of it.
“Fine,” Maida said. “We’re ready to hang the banner. Do you have a ladder we can borrow?”
“Yeah, it’s out back.” He headed for the back of the store.
Maida looked at Markhel, her brow creased. “I didn’t see one back there, did you?”
“No.” He smiled as an unfamiliar sensation coursed through him. It wasn’t quite delight, but something else. Was this what Melvale felt on an almost continuous basis?
His smile broadened. Yes, he believed it was. He was feeling mischievous. He knew that if the ladder was missing, it was hidden in Doc and Grandma’s barn. Grandma told him about all the little pranks they pulled on each other. Wilfred and Paddy Mulligan were the worst, and he’d have to pay a visit to the Mulligans as well. But he and the others had only been here a few days, and their top priority was Maida and their bonding. So far so good, but it seemed weak at best. Yet something was happening, so he shouldn’t try to force it.
Wilfred returned. “Doggone it, I swear I left it out there.” He scratched his head then snapped his fingers. “Doc! That wily polecat!” He marched out to the store front.
“I hope he’s not angry with Doc Waller,” Maida said with a hint of concern.
“He is not. Let us follow.” He took her by the hand and led her to the front of the store.
She didn’t protest, nor did she say anything when he led her outside. But to be safe, he let go of her hand. There would come a time when he wouldn’t be able to. Let this proceed with some sort of familiarity for her, before he had to tell her what he was, and what was happening between them. Either she would accept him, or she wouldn’t. True, he wasn’t fond of the outcome if she refused him, but she would be free, relatively unharmed as far as he knew, and would survive. He didn’t want her to spend the rest of her life with his death hanging over her head, knowing she was the cause.
They crossed the street to the Wallers’ just as Wilfred marched around the side of their house and disappeared.
Maida hurried to keep up. “Maybe Doc borrowed it and forgot to give it back,” she suggested.
He looked at her and slowed so she wouldn’t have to trot to keep up with his long strides. “I do not think that is the case. I believe Doc hid it on purpose to rile Wilfred.”
Maida stopped up short and laughed.
“You find it amusing?”
“Don’t you? Doc and his friends are always doing that sort of thing to each other. Why didn’t I think of that?”
He smiled in pleasure. He liked seeing her face light up the way it was doing now. “You enjoy their antics?”
“Of course, everyone does. But no one compares to Wilfred and Mr. Mulligan.”
“Yes, I know.”
She gave him a huge smile, and his chest filled with warmth. He’d never experienced such things before and began to wonder how many other emotions he would discover by being with her. Had he lived all this time not knowing how to live? So much of what she made him feel was new.
He should ask Kwaku and Zara, or even Makama what other emotions he might experience being with her. She delighted in so many little things, while he delighted in... hmmm. A good horse? One that would listen, preferably.
One thing? That was it?
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You look like something is bothering you.”
He took note of her eyes, saw the sincerity in them, and his heart, perhaps even both of them, warmed even more. “No, little one. I am fine. I am... more than fine. I am with you.”
15
Maida smiled as her eyes seemed to fuse with Markhel’s. His voice was gentle, deep, and her legs were turning to jelly! Oh, this was bad. She was becoming more than a little calf-eyed with him. He was almost too much!
“We should see what Wilfred is doing.”
“Yes,” he said and took a step closer.
Maida realized they were standing on the side of Doc and Grandma’s house. She could hear Wilfred grumbling to himself in the distance before he let out a shout of triumph. “Doggone that Doc! I’m going to swipe his buggy!”
She giggled, bringing a smile to Markhel’s lips. She’d never seen him like this. Not that she remembered much about him, but everyone said he rarely smiled and that he was always so serious.
She followed him into Doc and Grandma’s backyard then the barn. Wilfred was carrying his ladder out. For an old man, he was a lot stronger than he looked. She’d seen him do things she didn’t think possible for someone of his advanced age.
Markhel shook his head at him then offered to take the ladder.
Wilfred gave him a sheepish look. “Oh, yeah, I guess you should carry it.” He looked at her and put a hand to his back. “Shouldn’t have done that.”
“Did you hurt yourself?” she asked.
“No, just a little strain.” He winked at Markhel then headed back. “Let’s get the banner and put it up.”
Markhel made a grumbling sound as Wilfred practically skipped past her. “Come, little one. Our time together is short. Let us not waste it.”
“What?” Pa flashed in her mind. “Oh, right.” He must be referring to getting the work done. Besides, who knew what he had planned for the rest of the day?
She trotted after him. “I can walk home when we’re done. You don’t have to drive me.”
He arched an eyebrow with an expression that said absolutely not!
“Um, it was just an idea.”
“I will escort you home.” He kept walking.
It took her a second or two to recover from his intense gaze. When she did, she trundled after him. Wilfred went into the saloon with the banner, followed by Markhel. There were several horses tied in front, but she didn’t recognize any of them.
She was about to step into the saloon herself when Markhel came out, blocking her.
“Aren’t we going upstairs to tie one end of the banner?”
“I am going upstairs. You are going across the street to wait for me.”
“Why?”
He turned his head toward the saloon doors. “There are men inside. I do not recognize them.”
“Strangers?”
He bent to her. “Yes, fair one. Wait for me across the street. In fact, see if the sheriff would like to help.”
