Page 5 of Kissing the Kelpie

While I understand my protector means well and wants to keep me safe, I don’t have to like it. And right now, I don’t.

I gave up all the comforts I grew up with to start a solitary life here. The truth is, there are times I resent the sentence I’ve been handed to spend the rest of my days in this non-human confinement. All because of my brother’s greed.

I’ve had no one to talk to for years except my daughter, who is too young to have adult conversations. Sure, Em was here, and when he was in a decent mood, he was adequate company. Even then, he wasn’t ever a conversationalist. He always had something that demanded his attention.

Now that my brother is no longer a threat, I’ve toyed with the idea of returning to civilization. The problem is, I have no home to return to. No place I’m connected to. My brother’s been dead to me since long before the coyotes killed him, and now my grandmother’s gone too.

That’s what brought Erin here. A promise to bring me my inheritance from Baba.

Perhaps this man is my reward. A gift from the universe. An offering to me for being a good mother and doing right by Ana. Not that I would ever take a chance with my daughter’s safety. That’s not what I’m doing now, is it?

No, I would feel it.

Leery of getting too close to the stranger, I continue to stand about ten feet from him. I do my best not to make a sound. Not even when I breathe, so that I won’t interrupt him. Yet, after a minute or two, the music stops. It’s the first indication that the man’s aware of my presence.

Placing the instrument on the ground, he reaches into his pocket and pulls something from it that catches the moonlight and sparkles. It’s small and difficult to glimpse, but he holds it in his hand and looks at it. After a few seconds, his striking eyes, blue as the Caribbean Sea, meet mine, and a Cupid-drawn arrow is speared into my heart, making me this man’s captive.

“A gift.” His voice breaks through the unnerving silence. It’s smooth and soft as velvet. Beautiful. Melodious, like his music.

I stand statue still, watching as he heads toward me with long, confident strides, showcasing the strength of his thick, muscular thighs. No response kicks in me. Not fight nor flight. It seems I’ve even lost the ability to speak.

He stops when the distance between us is cut in half, bends down, and places the trinket he holds onto the ground. Moonlight puts a spotlight on it. Returning to his full height, the man’s crystalline blue eyes pierce mine again, causing a turbulent flutter in my belly.

Without breaking eye contact, he steps backward as if he knows every inch of this terrain and returns to his original spot. I make no move until he picks up his instrument and plays once again. Hesitantly, I take small steps forward, toward the small trinket he left on the ground.

It doesn’t escape me that the movements between us are dancelike. Rhythmic, at the very least. He moves forward, toward me, then backs away, and I move toward him. We seem to communicate without words. I don’t think this man is reading my thoughts like Em. I think he’s reading me—my body language—and allowing me to interpret his.

I stare at the bracelet displayed across my fingers, awed over the beautiful colors woven into the silver-looking metal. With my other hand, I feel the decorative stones adorning it, like charms.

In the center, a small, bluish-green stone hangs. About half an inch in diameter, it doesn’t have a symmetrical shape, but the edges, like the sides, are thin and smooth. On either side, next to the main stone, are two small dark green stones that could be mistaken for beads if they were round. I’m not certain what holds it all together.

“I made it special for you,” he says before pulling the bow across the strings of the violin, inducing a low, sweet sound. “It doesn’t compare with your beauty. Nothing can. I hope you like it, nonetheless.”

His eyes close as I search for a response. The look on his face holds a hint of pain and desire. As if he’s lost in the music. Like he’s touching me, making love to me through his violin.

My body ignites, and my skin prickles, yearning to be touched. Unsure of the overload of emotions I’m feeling, I clear my throat, stalling for time. He stops playing, waiting for me to speak.

“It’s beautiful.” My voice is sultry, even though I don’t mean it to be. “Thank you.”

Lowering his head, he offers me a smile, showing off a set of deep dimples. The front of his long blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail, giving me a better view of his face than the first time I saw him. I look on in silence as he returns to filling the night air with the sweet, seductive sounds of music.

I set the gift across my wrist and clasp it closed. I move my wrist in and out, close to and away from my body, admiring it. Overwhelmed with gratitude, my eyes tear, and I smile, holding my wrist against my chest, treasuring the present. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten a gift.

The man doesn’t speak to me again, but his eyes stay pinned to me like glue. I heat under the scrutiny of his stare as I sway to his music. Pretending I’m somewhere else, anywhere else, I hold the thin material of my nightgown in my hands, swirling it around as if I’m dressed for a party in a ballroom instead of sleep.

Chapter 4

“Mama, look, a pony!” Ana exclaims, dropping the sack of chicken feed at her feet.

A long, pale tail swishes back and forth as I watch the backside of the horse it belongs to get lost in the trees. I only catch a fleeting glimpse, but my heart gallops so fast I’d beat the animal in a race.

Horses don’t live here. In the years that I’ve been here, I’ve never seen one so much as poke its head into the forest. It can’t be a coincidence that a man visits the spring and now a horse is here. It isn’t by chance, either. That horse is here for a reason.

A nervous energy settles over me as I whip my head from side to side, trying to get a sense of who or what is around. Stay calm. There’s no reason to panic.

Except that Ana saw the animal, and if the horse is here, it means he’s here somewhere. He’s probably keeping himself hidden until I’m alone.

“Did you see it, Mama? He went that way.” Ana points in case I wasn’t paying close enough attention.

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