When I get back to the stable, Tess has Miranda, the new chestnut mare, and Carrie, the palomino, out in thetraining circle, and she’s got music playing over a Bluetooth speaker while she works with them.
I hitch myself over the fence and hop down near Carrie. The palomino swings her head toward me, and I rub her nose affectionately.
“I chose a Taylor Swift playlist this morning,” Tess comments.
“I noticed.”
“Miranda and Carrie probably haven’t heard any Taylor yet.” She pats Miranda’s nose.
I have wide-ranging musical taste, and I’m not mad about today’s music selection. I’ve noticed that the cadence of Taylor Swift’s songs and the lower timbre of her voice tends to soothe the horses when they’re having an off day. And with all the poignant emotions swirling through my heart, the lyrics resonate with me in a whole new way.
This morning, I really do feel “So High School.” Except with Rick and I, the killing part of “kiss, marry, kill” isn’t an exaggeration, but a very real possibility.
9
My day goes by quicker because I’m thinking about Marlowe. The drive to Spyglass Stables feels like nothing, and when I park the truck, I have to keep myself from running toward the fire pit.
She’s got the blaze going pretty strong, even though her clients have left. As I get closer, I notice that she’s got the stuff for s’mores all ready. There’s a Bluetooth speaker sitting on one of the log benches, playing old songs from the fifties and sixties.
“Just you and me?” I glance around for the two women I met earlier in the day.
“I sent Tess and Ashala to the city for the weekend. It’s safer for them.”
“Are they together? Seemed like it this morning.”
“Yeah. It’s new.”
“Cool.” I take a seat on the same log where she’s sitting. “How’d your day go?”
“With the trail rides, the council, or my emotions?”
I shrug. “Any of it.”
“That coffee you brewed me—it was different from anything I’ve had, but it did the trick.” Her boots shift against the sandy ground, like she’s struggling with the next words. “Better than Lou’s.”
“It’s not my goal to be better than him. Or replace him.”
“I know that. But I’m working my way toward being okay with the change.” She gives me a small smile, eyes glowing with the reflected light from the campfire.
I scoot closer to her, until our shoulders press together. I feel like a kid with his first crush. Everything is uncertain, but everything is also possible.
“I called one of the council members this morning, not long after you left,” Marlowe says. “She said she’d talk to the witches and have the wards reinforced to exclude kelpies during the festival weekend. And since this is Thursday night, that reinforcement will already be in effect. She seemed to understand that I’m not responsible for my sister’s actions, which is good news. And since you didn’t tell them I bit you, I don’t think they’re planning to evict me anytime soon. They’ll probably do a more thorough investigation after the festival, and if Valeria keeps hanging around, they may take additional steps to deal with her.”
“What kind of steps?”
Marlowe winces. “It really depends on how aggressive she is, and whether she kills anyone near the border of Crescent Cove. But at least I’ve done my part to ensure that tourists are protected from her while they’re in town. The flip side is that I won’t be able to set foot within the town limits either, at least not until the festival is over.”
“About that.” I reach into my pocket, pull out a braided bracelet, and dangle it in front of her.
Marlowe looks at me quizzically. “What’s that?”
“An exception.”
“Rick. Explain.”
“I know a couple witches, too. I visited one this afternoon, during our slow time, and he enchanted this for me.”
She takes the bracelet, turning it over, inspecting it.
