Gerall's Festivus Bride

by Rebekah R. Ganiere

  Chapter Ten

  A half-fae. It explained a lot. Her slightly more than beautiful face. The grace in the way she moved. Her gentle yet stubborn nature. The way she feared letting anyone too close. And Gerall warmed at the knowledge that it wasn’t just that she didn’t want him.

  He tried pushing to his feet but slipped and fell again, his head too light to think straight. His stomach ached from the wound, though Eloa had been able to close it. The muscles burned every time he breathed, shooting pain up over his chest. But at least the bleeding had stopped. He wouldn’t admit it to Eloa, but he hadn’t been so sure he would make it until she brought back his brothers. If she hadn’t closed the wound… who knew what might have happened.

  Having grown up in Westfall, he couldn’t believe that Eloa had learned much about how to use her magick. Not like those who lived in Ville DeFee. How lonely she had to have been these last months since her father’s death. Being all alone in a town where she feared being outed at every turn. How frightened she must have been. And yet, still so strong.

  Footsteps raced his direction, and Gerall grabbed the knife, gripping it tight. Three men ran around the mill, and he brandished the blade, but it was just his brothers and Adrian. Flint ran to his side, and he and Adrian helped Gerall to his feet.

  “Are you all right?” asked Flint, his eyes searching Gerall’s face through his red glasses.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “What happened?” demanded Jamen.

  “I believe I found a link to what’s been going on in Westfall. We just need to question him.” Flint and Adrian helped him walk as Jamen checked on Charlie. “Where’s Eloa?”

  “With Zelle and Scarlet. She’s covered in your blood, so they wrapped her in a blanket and took her to the carriage. They should be here any minute.”

  Gerall needed to get her out of Westfall. At least for the night, he needed to know she was somewhere safe.

  Flint pressed his hand to Gerall’s stomach, making him wince. “You’re not bleeding.”

  He shook his head. “She healed me. Or at least closed the wound.”

  Flint nodded. “Zelle said she was special. Fae?”

  “Half,” Gerall replied.

  “We need to get moving,” said Jamen. “This guy isn’t going to stay out for long.”

  Adrian released Gerall and walked to Charlie. “I’ll take him to the road outside town. Meet me there.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Jamen. “This isn’t your problem.”

  Adrian sniffed Charlie. “I have a feeling this is directly related to my problem.”

  Flint nodded. “We’ll meet you in twenty minutes.”

  Adrian hefted Charlie over his shoulders and headed back toward the pond.

  “That’s a long trek heading back through the woods,” said Gerall.

  Flint shifted Gerall’s weight on his shoulder, and Jamen came up the other side and helped out. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  Gerall shook his head. “I feel like a baby letting you two help me.”

  “Trust me,” said Jamen. “You’ve carried us plenty of times. It’s good to finally see you aren’t perfect.”

  Gerall chuckled. “Well, it’s embarrassing that a common thug wounded me.”

  “Yes, how did that happen?” asked Flint.

  “Too much time with animals and not enough training with us,” replied Jamen.

  “Who knew we’d still need the skills?” asked Gerall.

  “We’ll always need them.” Flint’s voice held a heavy edge to it.

  With the problems in Westfall and Fairelle in general, the violence wasn’t bound to end soon. And if he planned on trying to make a life with Eloa, it might never end. Maybe he did need to spend more of his time training.

  The sound of hoofbeats clopped toward them and then their carriage pulled around the mill. With Scarlet at the reins, Jamen let go of Gerall quickly and ran to the coach.

  “Scarlet!” He jumped up and took the reins from her.

  “Don’t you even think about it,” she replied. “I rode horses until the week before our son Kellan was born. I can drive a carriage just fine in my condition.”

  “Of course you can, but you don’t need to now. I’m here.”

  She rolled her eyes. “My hero.”

  Zelle and Eloa exited the carriage, and Eloa ran for Gerall.

  “How are you?” She shouldered his weight.

  “I’ll live, thanks to you.”

  She smiled and together she and Flint helped him to the carriage. Flint opened the door, and Gerall climbed in and sat on the pillow-covered bench. He ached from his waist to his shoulders.

  “Uncle Gerall, you’re bleeding.” His nephew Kellan pointed at him.

  Gerall put on his best smile. “It’s not bad, little one.”

  Flint helped Zelle inside, and Jamen finally convinced Scarlet to ride inside as well. Zelle and Scarlet picked up their babies and sat them on their laps.

  Eloa stood outside the carriage, her face full of worry. “I should get back to my shop.”

  “No,” said Gerall. “You need to come with us.”

  “He’s right,” said Jamen. “With Charlie going missing, they could come looking for you tonight.”

  “Even more reason why,” she said. “I can’t let anything happen to my— bakery.”

  “You really should come with us,” said Gerall. “I don’t want to chance anything happening to you.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  Stubborn fae. Gerall breathed deep and slid to the door. “Then I’m staying too.”

  “Gerall—”

  “You can rebuild a store, but not if you’re dead.” He looked at her hard, and she bit her lip. She looked between them all, and finally, her shoulders slumped.

  Without a word, she hopped up into the carriage.

  “I’ll get the horses and be right behind you,” Jamen said.

  Flint nodded, closed the door, and then hopped up to the driver’s seat.

  Gerall wrapped his arm around Eloa’s shoulders, and she lay her head on his chest. Gerall looked over at his sisters-in-law, who both tried not to stare, but their suppressed smiles were more than obvious. Gerall shook his head. His sisters-in-law were just as bad as their husbands.

  Eloa’s gut twisted in knots riding in the carriage with the Gwyns. As much as she relished the idea of being with them, especially Gerall, the anxiety that engulfed her at the thought that her father might be harmed grated on her. The all-consuming guilt for leaving him behind threatened to have her jumping out of the carriage. But if she went back and told him what had happened, he would never let her hear the end of it for not going with Gerall.

  She looked into Gerall’s face. He leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, skin waxy and pale. She’d been able to close the wound, but that hadn’t done much for his excessive blood loss, and she wasn’t sure how much of his insides she’d repaired. She’d never healed someone like that before. Sure, she’d helped her father with his burns, but even those had only gone so deep. Gerall’s wound had been much worse.

  The carriage pulled to a stop, and Eloa looked out the window. They couldn’t possibly be there yet. A large, dark-haired man stood in the road with someone over his shoulder.

  Jamen trotted his horse and a second one forward. The large man threw the unconscious one over the back of his horse. Charlie. The large man got on the horse, and he and Jamen led the way.

  “What are they doing with Charlie?” she asked Gerall.

  “We need to question him. See what he knows.”

  Eloa shook her head. “But this is my problem, not yours.”

  “Unfortunately, this goes deeper than you know. Something is going on in Westfall, and we believe Charlie is low on the chain of command, but we need to find out who is in charge and stop them before they cause a full-blown panic in the town.”

  “Panic over what?”

  Gerall looked at Zelle and Scarlet.

&nbs
p; “Let’s get back to the manor house and settle Gerall, then we can discuss it further,” said Zelle.

  The coach moved forward again, and Eloa stared out the window. There was something about the Gwyns she didn’t know, and for the first time, a niggling of fear washed through her.

  Eloa had never seen Gwyn Manor before. She’d never seen any manor house before, so she had nothing to compare it to. But an impressive and imposing stone structure, it loomed over them, making her wonder for the first time in a long time what the castle in Ville DeFee looked like.

  The coach pulled around the side, past an aviary full of birds that cooed and squawked. A half-alive flower garden came into view as they rounded the back of the house toward a large stable. They stopped, and the coach dipped back and forth as Flint jumped to the ground. He came around to Gerall’s side and pulled open the door. His eyes moved behind the strange red glasses, but she got the feeling he couldn’t see well. He tenderly touched Gerall’s head in a way that she’d not attributed to his character before.

  “I’m alive,” Gerall said without opening his eyes.

  Flint reached in, pulling Gerall’s arm over his shoulder.

  “I can’t lose another brother,” he said softly.

  Gerall’s eyes opened, and for a moment, the two shared a heavy look. “I’ve got too much pride to allow myself to be killed by the likes of him.”

  Flint helped Gerall out of the coach, and Jamen ran up to meet them. Together the brothers half-carried Gerall to the back door and inside the house.

  The large dark-haired man she didn’t recognize lumbered over to the coach and took Jamen’s son from Scarlet before helping her out of the coach.

  “Thank you, Adrian,” she said.

  He inclined his head, but didn’t reply.

  Scarlet took her son and dropped him to his feet. Taking his hand, the two waddled to the door.

  Adrian helped Zelle and the twins out of the coach and then Eloa. Magick wafted off him as he took her hand, but she couldn’t place it.

  She stepped from the carriage and noticed Adrian staring down at her.

  “You aren’t human,” he said.

  She gave him a tight smile. “Neither are you.”

  He nodded. “Werewolf.”

  A chill ran through her. So, there were werewolves.

  “Fae.”

  He nodded. “I better get back to my charge before he awakens.”

  He stomped back to the horses that waited by the stable door, and lead them inside the stable.

  “Gerall’s resting in his room.”

  Eloa jumped at the sound of Flint’s voice. She turned to the brother who loomed over her.

  He stared at her like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t speak.

  She headed for the door when he caught her hand and then pulled away instantly.

  “I’m sorry. I just... I wanted to thank you. For saving my brother.”

  “Wouldn’t anyone have done the same?”

  “Given what you were exposing about yourself? No, I don’t believe they would have.”

  So, they all knew. The idea comforted and scared her at the same time. But given they kept company with a werewolf, she was beginning to believe Gerall’s words. “They won’t bat an eye.”

  “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. I don’t want to bring you any more unneeded pressure.”

  Flint licked his lips as if choosing his words carefully. “It seems we collect those like us. Those who don’t quite fit in anywhere else.”

  Jamen joined them. “Is Adrian in the stable?”

  “I believe so.”

  “What are you going to do to Charlie?” Eloa asked.

  The brothers looked between each other and then at her.

  “Whatever we have to,” said Flint.

  She wanted to ask what that meant, but she didn’t need to. The look on Flint’s face said it all.

  “I’m going to go inside and check on Gerall.”

  “Please do,” said Flint.

  “Our wives are inside setting up your bath and getting you fresh clothes,” said Jamen.

  Eloa looked down at her gown, realizing how stiff it had become from the dirt and blood.

  “Thank you,” said Eloa. “For everything.”

  Jamen smiled, making his eyes crinkle in the corners and lighting up his features in a way she’d never seen him do before.

  “You are most welcome,” he replied.

  Warmth spread through her at the compassion and friendliness they all showed her. She’d never had people treat her with such kindness before.

  Eloa turned and headed for the house as Jamen and Flint unhooked the horses from the carriage and walking them into the stable.

  Her gut clenched as she thought of Charlie and what they might do to him, but surprisingly, she didn’t pity him one ounce.

  Eloa entered the large room filled with a huge table, chairs as well as a fireplace and looked around. In the middle of the table sat two of her loaves of bread and some butter. Her stomach growled. She’d not eaten since that morning.

  “You’re welcome to some bread,” said Scarlet, entering the room. “You did make it after all.”

  “Yes, but you paid for it.”

  Scarlet waved her hand at Eloa. “Everyone shares around here. This dress was Zelle’s when she was pregnant with the twins and had been Mother Gwyn’s before that. The beds we sleep in have been in the family for a century. Even this manor house has been in the Gwyn family for longer than has been recorded. In the Gwyn family, if it belongs to one, it belongs to all. Well, most things anyway. I don’t want you to think we are into swapping beds or anything torrid like that.”

  Eloa walked to the table and cut a slice of bread. “So, the oldest brother, Erik, he doesn’t mind sharing all he has?”

  Scarlet snorted. “Erik is more than happy to share what he’s been given because they all share the responsibilities. Gerall helps with the tenants. Jamen and I help with the stable. Zelle does most of the cooking. Hass and Ian help with the babies. We all do the cleaning. Providing and Lording over Westfall is a family affair.”

  Eloa bit into the bread. “It’s wonderful to have so many people you care about so close by. But do you wish you had your own space?”

  Scarlet rubbed her belly. “Every once and a while. But the house is big enough, and there’s always weekends away when we need to breathe.”

  “Where do you go when you get out?”

  Scarlet shrugged. “Tanah Darah. Westfall Inn. Aunt Violet’s house. Ville DeFee.”

  “Ville DeFee?” The thought of being able to visit the Faelands lifted her spirits.

  “Queen Cinder is a family friend.”

  Eloa shook her head. “Werewolves? Fae Queens? There really is more to you Gwyns than anyone knows, isn’t there?”

  Scarlet stopped. “I think maybe I better let Gerall tell the rest. Come, let’s get you in a bath and out of those clothes. I know he’s anxious to see you.”

  Eloa swallowed the rest of her bread. “And I him.”

  Scarlet nodded and led her out of the solar and into a large foyer. An ornate wooden staircase stood to one side. The women ascended the stairs and halfway up, Scarlet stopped and grabbed the railing.

  “Are you all right?” asked Eloa.

  Scarlet took a deep, steadying breath and grimaced.

  “Should I get someone?” asked Eloa. “Jamen’s in the stable.”

  “No.” Scarlet took another deep breath and then straightened. “I’m fine.” She breathed a few more times and then smiled.

  “How much longer?”

  “At least another month.” Scarlet started up the stairs again, this time holding her belly.

  “Are you hoping for another boy?”

  Scarlet turned and gave a sad smile. “No. A girl. Jamen wants a girl so badly. We love little Kellan, but I think it would ease his heart if this one is a girl.”

  Eloa wondered what Scarlet’s words meant, but she
hadn’t the heart to pry.

  Scarlet crossed the landing to a bedroom down at the end and pushed open the door. The beautiful room was more ornate than any Eloa had ever seen. So large that almost her entire hut could have fit into it.

  “This is Snow’s room. She doesn’t live here anymore though, so you are welcome to it while you’re here.”

  Eloa looked around the room. “It’s so nice. Are you sure it’s not a problem for me to stay in here? The brothers won’t mind?”

  Scarlet shook her head. “No one will mind at all. Not even Snow.”

  Eloa studied Scarlet for a minute. She’d seen the woman around town but had never really gotten to know her.

  “I have to be honest,” Eloa said. “You have all been so much more accommodating and welcoming than I ever could have hoped for. I’m not sure what to say. I’ve never been greeted with such hospitality. Is it because Erik is Lord and has to be hospitable? I don’t want you to feel like this is charity.”

  “It is charity,” said Scarlet. “But not the way you think. We are kind and hospitable because Gerall has chosen to let you into our lives. He is smart, the smartest of all of them to be honest, and I doubt very highly he would have brought you here if he didn’t believe he could trust you and if he did not care for you quite a bit. We aren’t kind to you because it’s our duty. We are kind to you because it’s who we are.”

  Shame heated Eloa’s cheeks for having thought they were only friendly because they had to be. But she wasn’t used to anyone in town being nice to her because they could. Far from it, she found them more likely to be falsely nice if they wanted something and ignorant if they didn’t.

  “There are towels in the bathing room down the hall and some room temperature water in there as well. I’m sorry Hass and Ian aren’t here to bring up hot water for you.”

  “Where are they and Erik?”

  Scarlet smiled and pointed to the bed, where an elegant, beige embroidered dress lay. “Feel free to use that. I’m pretty sure it will fit you.”

  Scarlet walked out the door and down the hallway. Eloa looked around the room once more and then to the dress. She could use a bath. She couldn’t remember ever having one in a tub before.