Ellida (9 page)

Astrid smiled and nodded.

“I don’t want to stay here,” Maggie
continued. “This little town suffocates me. I want to go wherever
my job takes me, a year here, a year there. I want to see the
world. One day I might decide to settle down, get married and have
children, but not now. I’m too young for that.” She paused, fixing
her eyes on Astrid. “Jack understands that better than anyone else.
He used to be like that.”

Before he met you
, were Maggie’s
unspoken words.

“I know, being bond-mates changes
everything,” Maggie said quietly. “Moreover, you are our Ellida and
Jack’s the Einhamir. Your options are somewhat limited.”

“I’ve chosen to come here. Nobody forced
me.”

“I know. And Jack was probably thinking about
returning even before he met you. Still…”

Astrid sighed. She still had her doubts—about
this place, her role, her future life, everything but Jack. She
knew she would have loved him no matter what. “My friend Tristan
likes to say bonding can be both a blessing and a curse,” she said.
“It’s up to us what it’s going to be.”

“Yeah, and if it works, you just have to
organize your life around it,” Maggie said with a snort. “Like
leaving everything behind and coming to Red Cliffs. If that’s a
blessing, then I don’t want to know what happens when it doesn’t
work.”

Astrid smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know
either. I’m bonded but I’m not any the wiser. In my case, it’s
working just fine, that’s all I know. If you ever get bonded, do
your best to make it work.”

“Thank you very much, but I’d rather pass.
Bonding isn’t on my wish list.”

Astrid laughed. “As if your wishes will be
taken into consideration.”

THAT AFTERNOON the ice had been broken.
Astrid had learned to value Maggie’s opinion and trust her
judgment. She was unbiased, with strong beliefs and touching
idealism. Beneath her capable mind that needed constant
stimulation, Astrid discovered plenty of sensitive emotions, too.
For such a young person, she had formidable self-discipline and a
determination to make her desires a reality.

ASTRID ASKED Maggie about the time when
she’d sung with the band.

“Pop, light rock, jazz, blues. Some country,
later on Saturday nights. People usually show you what they want to
listen to on a particular evening. You scan the audience before you
start. If you see lots of girls, sing love songs. Girls and couples
usually come on Saturday. Fridays can be pretty raw. The boys can
play anything, but they tend to avoid some songs. What do you like
to sing?”

“Pop, jazz, blues, ’80s music…”

“Boy, they’re going to love you! Do you have
a strong voice?”

“You bet. I can sing for hours before my
throat gets tired. But, I haven’t made up my mind about this yet.
It seems a bit too radical. I mean, I just came here. I can’t just
walk into the first bar I see and grab a mike. Doesn’t seem proper,
being an Ellida and all.”

Now Maggie laughed. “Ah, nobody here would
hold that against you, don’t worry. On the contrary. You’d show
them you’re a part of their life and allow them be a part of your
life. That’d be a good way to become closer to them. You’d learn
more about them singing on weekend nights at Goblin’s Hollow than
sitting in their living rooms. Did you know that Jack used to play
bass guitar with the guys?”

“He told me that.”

“He still does it from time to time. Don’t be
surprised if he just shows up on stage one evening. He’s good, and
the crowd’s always been crazy about him. Can you imagine it?”

Astrid smiled. Yes, she could easily imagine
that. Especially on Saturday nights.

RED CLIFFS, as Astrid soon learned, was in a
fact a big, colorful, slightly dysfunctional family. Everybody knew
everybody else. There were no family secrets, and privacy certainly
had a different meaning here. But the family ties were firm and
friendship was highly valued. Red Cliffers shared a strong sense of
community and belonging, and they were proud of their town and its
history.

Red Cliffs was a town of educated people.
Their degrees often didn’t match the jobs they currently did, but
they seemed fine with that. Athena Vangelis, for example, had a
degree in classical languages and European medieval literature, yet
happily ran a bakery. Marion Gillespie was an anthropologist by
vocation, but now she owned a bookstore and worked as a part-time
librarian. Neil Ramsey, a former soccer player, had opened Café
Insomnia, and then realized he preferred teaching Red Cliffs kids
soccer. His wife Valerie, a former teacher, had taken over the
café.

Nobody seemed concerned about the mismatched
qualifications and careers. Red Cliffers had a different perception
of time and the luxury to live their lives without that defeating
notion that if you didn’t do something now, you wouldn’t have time
to do it at all.

Lots of the town people worked in tourism,
which was the town’s major industry, or in local businesses. During
the winter season—from Halloween until the end of April—the
population doubled, and the town pulsated with life. Once the
tourists were gone, life in Red Cliffs happily shifted back into
its slow mode.

Meat production was another major industry.
Numerous cattle farms and ranches surrounded the town. Thanks to
the specific microclimate characterized by milder temperatures,
lots of humidity, plenty of sunshine and a shorter winter, Red
Cliffs’ ranchers raised beef stock distinctive for its superior
meat quality.

Two big farms on the very border of the Red
Cliffs territory belonged to Charles Langdon and his wife Lucy, and
that was where Astrid and Jack were heading one morning.

Astrid was in the driver’s seat of Jack’s
heavy-duty truck. It was a crystal-clear, sunny morning. The air
blowing in through the open driver’s window was fresh and crisp,
saturated with the scent of pine and resin.

“Remember when I told you about the
journalist who was kidnapped in South America?” Jack asked as the
powerful truck easily mastered the less than perfect conditions of
the back road that lead to Silver Horn, one of the Langdons’
farms.

“Harold Bertram? You went there to bring him
home. Lucy is his daughter, right?”

“She and Charlie got married a few months
ago. Before Harold was kidnapped, there were some concerns about
Lucy’s safety, so her family contacted James. James said, ‘Send her
here to Red Cliffs, she’ll be safe’. So she came but as Charlie’s
wife. I wasn’t aware they were dating or anything like that,
although their families are close to one another and Charlie and
Lucy have known each other for ages.”

“So Charlie’s from here?”

“He moved to Red Cliffs after his first wife
died, a few years ago, in Italy. That was a terrible marriage. I
hope Charlie’s finally happy. He’s a good man. He used to be a
successful lawyer, but he gave up the city life and his career and
came here.”

“You said they were humans. Do they know
about us?” Astrid asked.

Jack gently stroked the nape of Astrid’s
neck. “No. They’re different from our humans since they don’t know
about us. However, they live on our sacred territory, so they’re
still a part of our community. If Lucy and Charlie decide to stay
here, they’ll learn eventually. When they’re ready, that’s all.
Hugh Langdon, Charlie’s grandfather, may already know. The rest of
the household—the farm hands, workers, domestic help, we made sure
they don’t know.”

Keeping her eyes on the road, Astrid tilted
her head brushing her cheek against Jack’s arm. “How did they end
up here in the first place?”

“My father gave this piece of land to
Charles’ great-great grandfather in gratitude for saving James’s
life.”

“Oh! What happened?”

“It was shortly before I was born. James went
to Europe after a rogue wolf, who was hiding somewhere in the
Balkan Mountains. He got badly wounded fighting with a whole pack
of local werewolves and left to die. William Langdon, a British
intelligence officer on assignment there, found him and saved him.
They returned to England together and became close friends. Brian
gave the Englishman a piece of land here, as a token of his
gratitude for saving James. Langdon stayed in Britain, but he and
his family came here every few years for a couple of months.
Eventually, two of his sons settled here. One of them was Hugh’s
grandfather.”

“But there’re two farms that belong to the
Langdons.”

Jack nodded. “Aspen Grove is the wedding
present to Lucy from her grandmother, who is, by the way, a
great-great-granddaughter of William Langdons’s wife Alice.”

“But that means Charles and Lucy are
cousins?”

“Not through blood. Hugh’s grandfather was
adopted, I think. Initially, Aspen Grove was outside our territory,
but because the two families are close and share many connections,
my father extended Red Cliffs’ spiritual borders to include Aspen
Grove, as well as Charles’ sister’s and brother-in-law’s farm
further south.”

Soon Astrid pulled the truck in front of a
big, bright-yellow farmhouse with a white wraparound porch. Charles
and Lucy came out to greet their visitors.

If Charles, by all standards, was a handsome
man—tall, muscular, with soft grey eyes, dark hair and a pleasant,
open face with a wide smile—his wife was stunning: gracious, with
long, dark hair, creamy-white skin, beautiful emerald-green eyes,
high cheekbones and lush, full lips. It had to be something to do
with the sanctity of this place to make the people of Red Cliffs so
good looking, regardless of their heritage, Astrid contemplated,
glancing at the Langdons. Hugh Langdon looked exceptionally well
for his age, tall and straight, with broad shoulders and still
powerful muscles. It was hard to imagine he was Charlie’s
grandfather and not father.

They were soon joined by sisters Kay and
Rory, aged eight and five, who were staying with their Uncle, Aunt
and Grandpa while their parents, Charles’ sister and
brother-in-law, were away. The girls proudly showed Astrid their
ponies, birthday presents from their adored Aunt Lucy and
introduced her to Crusoe, a year old crossbreed.

“His father’s a wolf, you know,” Kay
explained. “His mother was a German Shepard.”

“She died last year,” her sister chimed in.
“She was very old, older than Grandpa Hugh.”

“Oh? I’m sorry to hear that,” Astrid
said.

“That’s okay. She had a good life, so Lucy
says we must not be sad,” Kay explained.

“Crusoe likes Aunty very much but he doesn’t
like Harper. He always growls when he sees her,” Rory said.

“He can’t like her because she doesn’t like
dogs and Crusoe feels that,” Kay said. “Aunty says some people are
like that, and that’s okay. I don’t like spiders so they probably
don’t like me either.”

“THOSE TWO girls made my day,” Astrid said,
smiling, as she glanced into the side mirror of the truck at Rory
and Kay, surrounded by their aunt, uncle and great-grandfather,
waving to them enthusiastically. She waved back and honked one more
time as she pulled the truck onto the road. “Jack, did you notice
some tension between Charlie and Lucy?” she asked as they drove
back to town.

“You’re right. They both seem on some kind
of… I don’t know… emotionally alert. Maybe they argued or
something. I have a feeling they’re crazy about each other. There
seems to be a lot of suppressed attraction between them. Maybe they
have a hard time admitting it.”

Astrid glanced at Jack with admiration. “Hmm,
emotionally alert, you say? Nice way to describe it, Jack.”

Jack leaned forward and kissed her before he
continued with his mini-assessment. “First of all, Lucy’s twelve or
thirteen years younger than Charlie. Second, his previous marriage
was quite traumatic. Third, they married after a very short
courtship. As I said, their families are close. Hugh Langdon is an
old friend of Lucy’s grandmother, so I’m wondering if the two of
them conspired somehow to get Charlie and Lucy together. I should
remember to ask James if he knows more about that.”

“You said before that you know her
grandmother. She’d hired you to rescue her son-in-law, right?”

Jack nodded. “She’s a hell of a woman. She’s
the owner of Quantum Industries, probably one of the biggest mining
machinery manufacturers in North America. Richer than Croesus.”
Jack laughed. “Knowing her, I can easily imagine her taking her
granddaughter’s love life into her own hands.”

“I hope she didn’t do more harm than good,”
Astrid said, more sharply than she intended. Any kind of meddling
in somebody’s love life, divine or mundane, was an unfailing temper
trigger for Astrid. “What about Lucy’s mother?”

“She’s a zoologist, an expert on tigers, who
spends most of her time far away from home. Her father, a
journalist, traveled a lot, too. That’s the nature of his job. They
separated when Lucy was a child, but they never divorced. Lucy’s
grandmother raised her.”

“Oh, I see,” Astrid said and changed the
subject. “I can’t pinpoint it, but there’s something that bothers
me in that house. I’m not sure if it’s that old housekeeper or that
young farm manager, Harper Letterman. One was too polite, the other
one almost rude. What do you know about Harper?

“You felt it, too, huh? Harper has been
running the farm for years. I think she was in love with Charlie
even before his first marriage.”

“She might still have feelings for him.
Strange she wanted to stay here after he got married again. She’s
young and good looking.”

“It must not be an easy situation for her.
The girls told me Crusoe doesn’t like her.”

“It goes both ways. Besides, the dog chose
Lucy as his master. He’s naturally gentle with Kay and Rory because
they are children. He ranked everybody in the house else according
to his own criteria. Charlie’s close to the top, Harper’s at the
bottom of his list. Dogs are like that.”