Beds and Blazes (12 page)

She ran her fingertips down his cheek and brushed his lips with a feather-soft touch. “Bufo sounds a little kooky and sneaky, sure, but the fact that he—that your whole family of magical folk in the woods—would so painstakingly rebuild my house for me is…” She shook her head and swallowed past the lump in her throat. “It’s the family I’ve always wanted, Lowell. Risking it all to save me, then going out of their way just to put me at ease.” Dora let her head fall back on the couch cushion and took in one shaking breath. “It’s like I was in love with this place already, throwing my arms out to it and giving it my all, and then suddenly it swept me right off my feet and hugged me right back. I’m honoured to be linked to Prescott Woods and the beings there, Lowell. And you, Mr Rossi, you made this all happen. Perhaps it’s not what I’d planned, but your magic saved my life—and lengthened it immeasurably. I’m not going to complain about my house burning down when I get to live a new, bigger, better version, plus I get free gardening and cleaning!” She giggled. “I mean, it’s like a dream come true!”

“Well, there’s one little catch. We could probably work around it if we wanted to, I guess, but…” His face reddened over his beard. “The idea was that we were only to permit people to be converted to Fair Folk if they, uh…”

“Agreed to live together? Be mates? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Ah, well, it was Father’s idea, but it was one that we all agreed to live by. All of us Rossis, that is.” He swallowed, cheeks flaming red. “I had decided that I, ah, wanted you…that is, if you wanted me, but I needed you to agree to move to the woods with me first before I told you our secrets.”

“But now I live here, with the woods in my backyard, and you said the elves have built a new bathing chamber for me just inside the trees.” Dora pursed her lips. “I don’t need to move with you to your family’s home.”

“Well, no,” Lowell admitted. “You don’t. You can run your business here, have guests as you used to, as soon as enough time has elapsed for this house to have conceivably been built by human hands. You can go to the Healing Waters and Living Earth by yourself. You don’t have to go with me. The only requirement, really, is that you keep the magic of Prescott Woods a secret.” He stared at his knees.

The splash of the fountain filled the long moments that followed.

“But what if I didn’t want to be alone?” Dora wondered aloud. “What if I wanted company? Someone who could help me run this place, someone to show me around the woods and introduce me to the magic beings there…”

Lowell’s face lit up. “Someone to warm your bed, perhaps, my queen?”

Dora tilted her head to one side, considering. “I’d want more than that,” she told him. “I’d want someone to take care of me and be my partner. Someone to fix meals for and spend time with. Someone who would—” She looked at him carefully. “Love me.”

“I do, Dora, I do!” he burst out. At once, Lowell was off the couch, shoving the table out of the way, and on his knees before her. “Dora, I’m a bumbling fool when it comes to sentimental words, but I can say this.” He took her hands in his and squeezed. “I love you. I will always love you. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a wife.” Dora stroked his black beard and smiled as he spoke. “I love the way you cook and keep house. I love your sweet collections of cups and aprons and frilly stuff.” Dora giggled, blushing wildly. “And God knows I love your body.” He ran his hands up her ribs and hefted one breast in each hand. “Mm, woman, when you dance and move this body of yours…” he growled.

“Wait a sec—” Dora held his hands still. “Was that a marriage proposal? Did you just ask me to marry you, Lowell Rossi?”

Lowell nodded. “I did, Dora Fontaine. Will you marry me and share an enchanted life with me here? Will you let me love you and protect you forever?”

Dora nodded, eyes glowing. “I will. I’ll welcome you into my home—
our
home—today and every day, and be your wife, Lowell.” She lowered her face and found his mouth with hers. His beard tickled her as his lips parted and his tongue flicked against hers. A rush of warmth ran from the top of Dora’s head down to her toes. She parted her knees to him and sighed.

He untied her robe and slid it down her arms. “I was so afraid you’d never be healed,” he whispered, tracing his fingers over the curves of her stomach. “Terrified that your life had not ended, but been ruined for all time, and now to have you here in my arms, beautiful and whole and promised to me.” He thumbed her nipples and licked his lips. “I’ve never been happier in my life.”

Dora cried out when he pulled one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. She held his head to her chest and gasped when he placed one hand between her legs. “No one’s here?” she asked.

“Mm,” Lowell answered. He nipped her peak with his teeth before releasing it. “No one at all. Humans would see a house under construction, and, should they be stupid enough to set foot here, they’d find a nest of snakes to greet them.” He chuckled. “And my family knows to give us some space. I wanted to explain the situation to them.” He turned to the other breast, rolled it between finger and thumb then pulled it between his lips.

Dora raked her nails through his hair. “Does everybody in town think I burnt up?” she asked suddenly. “Oh, that’s horrible. Poor Colby and Deb, Monica and Bernice.” Lowell gave her nipple one last tug with his mouth, then released it and sat beside her.

“Nobody found your body in the ashes, of course, so folks in Charade have been talking up a storm, according to Carmen. However, when it was clear last night that you were going to recover from your injuries, Carmen told your friends and the police that she’d heard from you. Said you were off visiting friends in North Carolina and were all torn up about your place.” He placed one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. “When you’re ready, you can go back into town and see what’s left of Bohemian Rhapsody.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll go with you.”

She snuggled into his shoulder and peered into the shadowy woods. “You know what I want to do first?” she said. “I want to see your home and thank your family for their help. And I want to meet these gnomes I’ve heard so much about.”

“Damn gnomes…” Lowell muttered darkly.

“The rate you were going, we’d have ended up together around my eightieth birthday.” Dora shrugged. “Bufo sort of hurried things along.” He grunted. “All’s well that ends well, Lowell.” She rubbed her hand over his chest and considered. “So, I can’t have guests here for the time being and I can’t leave the woods for very long. I’m not up for looking at the ruins of my home just yet, either. Looks like we’ve got some time on our hands, huh? Whatever should we do, Lowell?”

“Oh, I’ve got an idea or two,” Lowell answered. “A little pre-wedding trip, if you’re up for some adventure. It’ll introduce you to some of the inhabitants of the woods that you haven’t met yet, too. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled with your company.”

“I’m intrigued,” smiled Dora. “Anything I should pack?”

“Ah, you won’t need much,” he said. “We can send some gnomes for food and water, so just bring what you’ll need for a few days.” His eyes narrowed and he shot her a concerned look. “I know you’re not shy, but you’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

Epilogue

Dora stretched beneath the canopy of leaves. The morning sun filtered through the branches and, far below her on the ground, woodland creatures and magic folk shifted and scurried. The nocturnal beings—the sprites and will-o-the-wisps, bats and raccoons—were headed to bed, while the daytime creatures stirred from their burrows to welcome the sun. She imagined the day shift and night shift workers in an otherworldly factory exchanging pleasantries and yawning as they punched their time cards.

“Be right back,” she whispered to Lowell, who dozed next to her.

“Down please, Geneva!” she called out. The juniper tree whispered and shuffled, and its limbs bent and swayed to form a living stairway to the ground.
As long as I live,
thought Dora,
even if it’s forever, this place will never stop being magical.

The branches shifted beneath her feet, and Dora climbed down the organic escalator with ease. It had been just a few days since she’d awakened in her transformed state, but she felt completely trusting of the dryad who helped her down to the forest floor. “Geneva’s flighty at times,” Lowell had confided, “but she’s a sweet spirit. Hazel’s nice, too, though she can be a bit of a nut. Some of these dryads are tricksters—not that that’s a bad thing, of course—but let’s stay in Geneva’s branches for our first visit to the grove.”

Dora heeded the call of nature and freshened up in an overland stream next to the grove. The water in Prescott Woods, even the surface variety, was especially pure and cleansing. She rinsed her teeth and body, combed her hair with her fingers and caught her reflection in a still part of the brook. Dora brought her fingers to her cheek and stared at her mirror image. Her skin was smooth and taut, her body firm and curvy, and her hair looked as though J. Lo’s stylist had spent hours on it. The magical properties of Prescott Woods had gifted her with an idealised outward appearance and, even better, she
felt
like a million bucks.
I think I could run for miles, climb a mountain, swim a lake…
She looked up to find Lowell gazing down at her from their treetop hammock.
And then make love with Lowell for hours.

The phone lines at the new Bohemian Rhapsody were already in place, so Dora had made a few reassuring calls to her friends and family before setting off into the woods with Lowell. He had taken her to Castle Speranza first to see his family and to meet Limax, Mephita and the infamous Bufo. Lowell’s father had been surprisingly emotional given Lowell’s description of the Fair Folk’s stern patriarch. Gavin had embraced her, nearly squeezing the breath out of her, and Dora was sure she’d seen him wipe tears from his eyes as he’d walked away. Paloma, whom Dora knew from belly dancing classes and performances, seemed different than before—kinder, perhaps. Along with Korbin and Brock, she’d welcomed Dora warmly into the family. Carmen was the most ebullient of the bunch. She’d shrieked with joy when Dora and Lowell announced their plans to marry. “We’re going to have so much fun, you wait and see!” she’d laughed.

Aside from some rather off-putting sinus issues, Limax was charming enough, and Mephita entertained her with a recounting of her part in saving the woods from destruction. It was Bufo, though, who revealed his deep affection for her. The guilt-ridden gnome had flopped at her feet and begged forgiveness for his transgressions. “You did say as you thought my gardening was clever, and then I wanted to see what your own plantsies were doing, and I saw somewhat and other I could do to improve your place and…” he wailed. “I never did mean to crack a breaksie or dirty not a thing for you, only to pretty up and work for you, and then that horrible fire! Oh, so very, very frightening!”

With Calvin’s blessing, Bufo agreed to be head gardener for Dora’s new home. Lowell had grudgingly agreed to the arrangement on one condition—Bufo was not to enter Dora’s house unless lives were in danger. Dora, as grateful as she was for Bufo’s brave part in saving her, was secretly relieved. He was a nice gnome, certainly, but he seemed a bit star-struck by her. Bufo’s sister, Caudata, would be her housekeeper as soon as the elves were done with construction. Mephita was pleased to hear this. “Caudata will keep her brother in line, sure enough she will, and straight as a pin she’ll keep the home of yours, yes indeed and for certain.”

They’d stayed one night at the castle and, while it was perfectly luxurious and comfortable, Dora was pleased to leave the next morning with only Lowell at her side. He’d given her a box, once more wrapped in heavy cream paper and tied with a glossy deep green ribbon. “For you, if it’s something you’d like. The elves made it for you at my request.”

She’d been surprised and touched to find a garment of the same pattern as his ever-present kilt. “It’s an Italian tartan, you see,” he’d explained. “As a Rossi, I started wearing a kilt made of it, and I thought, well, since you and I are engaged now…” She’d lifted it and found a buttery-soft wrap dress—angora, he’d informed her—that hugged her curves and fell to her knees in a graceful skirt. “You don’t have to wear it,” he’d told her. “Not if you don’t like it.”

“But I love it,” she’d insisted, “especially since I’m part of your clan now, Lowell. I want to look like we belong together.” She’d kissed him then and thought of the Mathesons in their matching tracksuits and fanny packs, giving each other Eskimo kisses and radiating perfect devotion.
Love is so beautiful when the pieces fall together.

He promised to take her on a walkabout of the woods and introduce her to trolls, elves, naiads and the other magical beings. “But I’ll do it slow and easy,” he’d smiled. “No rush, my queen. I want you to drink it all in, in your own sweet time.”

A human visitor to the dryad grove, if he or she were to make it this deep into the woods without being frightened away by a glamoured image of a bear, lion or bobcat, would see a patch of a six lush trees in a cluster. That human might notice that the trees bent and swayed without the benefit of a breeze, and he or she might wonder how it was that no dead branches littered the perfect mossy carpet beneath the trunks.

Dora, however, was now one of the Fair Folk and the mysteries of the woods were no longer hidden from her. She saw the trees, but she also saw the dryads who were linked to them. Geneva, the juniper dryad, rested on the moss floor and played a lap harp. Next to her, Hazel, her feet propped on the trunk of her hazel tree, juggled four walnuts. Fiona was in the crook of her tree inspecting the young apples that were swelling on its branches.

“Where are the others?” Dora asked Fiona. She’d been surprised when Fiona had explained earlier that the dryads could safely leave their trees for days at a time to venture into different parts of Prescott Woods.

“Daphne and Dara went to visit the naiads,” replied Fiona as she clambered up higher in the tree. “And Ashby’s off picking some blackberries for you.”