Forget Me Knot

by Melissa Glisan

  “You didn’t know you were walking along laughing out loud, happy as you please then?” She knelt down to untangle the dogs after Mars decided to lap Beau, and Faunus was glad; he couldn’t stop the look of horror crossing his face. Could he really have gotten that sloppy, that he would risk walking in the woods like a normal human? What was wrong with him?

  “Well?” She looked up at him from the ground, still expecting an answer. “What was so funny?”

  “You really do look beautiful, framed by nature.” Faunus wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it, complements were always a good way to sidetrack women, but she did look lovely surrounded by the greening bushes and the darkened autumn leavings.

  “Nice try, Oh Flirtatious One, it must’ve been a good naughty thing if you’re going to try to sway me with lies.” She still smiled but not as wide, and one of her eyes winced a small bit, as if he’d insulted her. Exasperating woman!

  “I didn’t lie.” He stepped closer and pulled her to her feet. “You really are suited to being out here; it sets your natural beauty off perfectly.” When she made a disgusted sound and made to pull back, he tightened his hold, feeling anger rise. “Why is it so hard for you to accept that you are beautiful?”

  “Because I’m not.” Mutinously, she stared at a spot on his chest. “Why don’t you do your ‘thing’ and read my mind and get it over with.” Pure pain oozed out of a heart wound he couldn’t possibly miss.

  “Believe it or not, Flora,” he wished she would look up, “your brains aren’t like giant filing cabinets that I can rummage through at my heart’s content. There are no folders labeled ‘idiots who hurt Flora’ for me to skim. Look at me?” Nope, no deal, she was bound and determined to stare at a stupid button. “All I can tell is that you don’t trust compliments, that they hurt you. I don’t have a clue why or who.”

  “You really think I’m pretty? Not that ‘good morning gorgeous’ you give everything female that crosses your path?”

  He studied the crown of her head with not a little exasperation. “All women have beauty Flora, is it so wrong to see it and acknowledge it?” Had he done wrong in wanting to make every woman feel special?

  She sighed, restlessly shifting from foot to foot. “No. It’s just--it would be nice to be truly exceptional in the eyes of just one person. You compliment so many women that no one takes you serious.” She tried to pull away again without success, and Mars took offense at his rough handling, biting his ankle.

  Ignoring the irritating dog, Faunus dropped the other hound’s leash and lifted Flora’s chin. Her eyes were conflicted; want and pain, fear and hope, all there in her pansy bright eyes. “Let me take you to dinner tonight.” She blinked in confusion. “Let me show you that I have no problem seeing only you.” Something in her gaze shuttered.

  “It’s not about being the center of attention, Frank. It’s about being the center of another’s world if even for a minute. There is a difference.” Flora broke his hold by shoving her elbow in his stomach. “Anyway you’ll be busy tonight, chasing down Beaujolais.”

  ****

  Flora looked longingly at the rear kitchen entrance. Volunteering to walk Mars had one discernable downside; she couldn’t shortcut through food preparation areas with the toy dog, no matter how much she wanted to avoid people. The way her luck was running lately the state health inspector would be lurking inside for a surprise inspection.

  Looking at the front door she considered her options. There weren’t many cars in the visitor lot, meaning that most of the guys had left. She could meander about the grounds until the rest left or she could make a run for it. A small whimper decided things, she looked down and saw Mars sitting patiently on his haunches, and his bright button eyes staring sweetly up as he shivered.

  “Poor baby!” she crooned. “Okay, we’ll go inside, but give me a wee bit of help. I don’t think I want to meet that Celena woman tonight. Let’s race on past the dining area for the stairs and tuck you into your puppy bed. Is that a plan?”

  The small bottlebrush tail thumped as he perked his huge ears.

  Feeling absurdly confident, Flora hurried to the front door, unhooked his leash and stood aside letting the jaunty little dog trot past. Instead of dashing up the steps as agreed, the traitor ran right over to the couch were Celena sat, tablet in her lap as she listened to Tomas. A sharp yap and the cool blonde turned to look at the excited little dog. Since he’d arrived at the B&B, Mars had gone out of his way to snarl, bite or snap at every pair of hands that attempted to touch him. Leashing him was an Olympic event no matter that he was content to be walked without injuring his handler.

  “You little traitor,” Flora fumed, watching the small beast do circus tricks vying for the other woman’s attention. Standing on his back legs, he let out this horrific sound like a fox yodel. Wincing, Flora noted that the rest of the clan was having the same reaction to the high pitched noise.

  “Aren’t you the sweetest little burly bear,” Celena crooned in a soft voice as she leaned over to pick up the dancing dog.

  “No! Wait!” Half the people in the room nearly fell over themselves trying to stop her from touching Mars, a crime punishable by gnaw. Flora watched in a mix of trepidation and nausea as Celena picked the wriggling dog up, cooing and baby-talking to the ecstatic fur-ball as his tongue fluttered out like an excited lizard reaching for her face. She never noticed dropping her tablet on the floor before setting the black furred misery on her lap where he curled into a contented ball.

  “That was completely revolting.” Flora didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Red laughed behind her. She didn’t know what was more shocking, Mars newfound touch-me attitude or the sound of Red laughing.

  In eight years he barely cracked a smile, and then it was only for Marc. When the triplets were born, his face had softened but nothing like the relaxed happiness she saw there now. This new woman had way too much power to destroy the protector of the man-wolf clans. Flora shook her head; she would need a lot of time in her private garden to think this through. Gardening reminded her, “Red, I’ll need to borrow the high-lift tomorrow, I’ve got a shipment coming for planting season.”

  “No problem, I’ll drive it over tonight before I go home.”

  “Home? You’re not staying here?” That was a shocker, since the Wolf Lord’s return, Red had been camped out in the spare bedroom decorated for him.

  “No, those Four-H kids have been taking care of the cows long enough, and the boys need to be worked with.” She couldn’t ignore the uneasy way his gaze slid away from the white-blonde seated in the other room. Celena made him happy but something was wrong, and he knew it. Red wasn’t one to avoid a problem, normally he waded in and met trouble head on.

  Thinking of the boys, she smiled. The big draft horses that had ended up as the lame cover story for Marc and Lora’s whirlwind romance always made her smile. “When we have that warm spell everyone’s talking about, could I borrow Butler and Prince to plow my private garden again?”

  Distracted, Red turned and gave her a quizzical glance. “Haven’t said no yet have I?” He tapped her nose with a finger and moved towards the door.

  Oh yeah, Flora could feel it, something wasn’t right. Looking at the newcomer sitting across the room, she hoped that the daughter was better than the mother.

  Chapter Nine

  Manifold

  “Thank you, Tomas, for agreeing to speak with me.” Celena felt the nervous jitter of too much coffee, not enough sleep, and the emotional overload of Madden’s mind-blowing caresses fueling her actions. Crashing for twenty-four hours would have been preferable but it didn’t look like she was going to get it. From what she’d heard already, it sounded more like a puzzle than anything requiring her expertise. Faunus, sorry Frank, she corrected herself, should have been able to see through the different triangles to the possible answers, assuming of course another deity was at play. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there were other hands at play and not just the morta
l ones.

  “I don’t know where to start,” the bare words shook her out of her musings.

  “How about when you first met Laura Faust, unless you can think of something that happened before?” The young doctor looked terrible, pallor made his native bronze skin tones appear sickly. He obviously hadn’t slept well in a very long time. Stiff movements as he stood and sat indicated an injury not healing well.

  “There isn’t much to tell there,” he frowned, “I’ve always had a thing for blondes. She moved to town and needed a doctor, something about allergies but she had no symptoms. Instead of feeling flattered at the attention I should have been suspicious.”

  “Why?” Celena interrupted. It was obvious that Tomas had been beating himself up, going over every memory castigating his lack of foresight.

  “Why should I have been suspicious?” He sat up straighter, “Because she had no symptoms and no reason to be seeking medical help.”

  “So hypochondria is out of the question? Or couldn’t it have been possible that an attractive woman moved to a new community, was feeling a bit blue, and wanted to meet someone new, even if it was just a local doctor?” Tomas smiled and Celena had a brief inkling of how attractive he must be under normal circumstances before the shadows in his mind settled across his face.

  “That is what I thought at first, especially when she kept dropping by just to say hello or ask me out for lunch.”

  “How long have you been in McClellan, Dr. SaoBria?” His English was impeccable but the hint of an accent tugged at the ear.

  “Almost six years,” he admitted. Lifting a hand he interrupted her, “And yes, before you ask the inevitable, it was hard to meet people here. Some were standoffish, others very friendly, but none really wanted to make friendships. For the most part, I’ve kept with members of the man-wolf clan or with the newer families moving into the area.”

  “That isn’t a bad thing Tomas, to be friendly with those that accept you.” Without thinking she had leaned forward and clasped the other man’s hand in a sympathetic gesture. He cringed back and without moving, Celena felt the weight of Madden’s gaze. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the dark auburn head moving in the hall when a small black dynamo thundered into the room on pencil thin legs. A sharp yap and she automatically shifted her gaze to the fuzzy little dog dancing on his hind legs. His little hopping jig and begging whine made her itch to pick him up.

  “Aren’t you the sweetest little burly bear,” she baby-sang to the little dog, leaning over to pick him up. With his over-large ears and shiny eyes the little dog reminded her of a trained dancing bear from the circus. As her hands closed around the surprisingly large barrel of his body and lifted, Celena heard most of the men in the room yell for her not to pick the dog up. Curious, she raised him to eye level and got a perfect view of his waggling tongue as he tried to reach her face. No matter if the others worried, this little guy was thrilled to be with her and she welcomed the company.

  Patting, petting, and fussing over the happy mini-canine, Celena felt surprisingly better, less tired and more at ease as the dog settled in and warmed her lap. Risking a look up, she saw Madden had relaxed and was talking to the dark haired triplet, he looked up and smiled and her heart took flight at the easy warmth in his eyes. Turning back to Tomas, she accepted her tablet from the doctor as he slowly moved out of touching distance on the sofa.

  “I’ve never had a dog,” she admitted, still smiling foolishly at the twitching tail and nose of the happy beast. “Do you know his name?”

  “That would be Mars, he belongs to Lupercus.”

  “Mars?” Celena felt her world tilt, could he really be? As if sensing where her thoughts headed, Tomas gave a strained chuckle. “No, Miss, we sincerely hope not, he’s annoying enough without being the real deal. The Dread Lord is known for his, uh, unusual sense of humor.”

  “I take it he bites?” She patted the small head and looked at Tomas sitting a considerable distance away.

  “They both do,” he replied, looking towards the doorway where Madden stood considering the couple on the couch before passing through the front door. Oh stars! Celena hadn’t thought about things like that. Even back in high school Madden had been edgy about her touching other people. Given her unexpectedly warm welcome home, she needed to remember. A small part of her jumped for joy while another nagged at her sudden lack of feminine independence.

  “Okay.” She shook her head and started interviewing Tomas again.

  ***

  Had it really been almost eighty years since he’d really taken a walk in the woods? Faunus shook off “Frank” as he stepped deeper into the woods trailing the runaway Bassett. Manicured parks were the closest he’d come to the woods since that magical night at the Ferncliff Hotel in Falls City.

  That first night he stood in the murky woodlands looking at the beautiful building shining in the dark like a star fallen to earth and considered giving up the woods. The deer of this country were different. He’d run with different herds from the verdant Canadian Rockies into the western plains and through the rambling Appalachians. No matter where he went the animals weren’t family. Not that some didn’t allow him to join their herds but the bucks were confused, he was neither rival nor kindred.

  In the end, he left the only home he’d ever known in search of a new one. Taking a train from Cumberland to Falls City had seemed a great adventure. Standing in the trees admiring the hotel he couldn’t afford a room in had ignited something long missing from his heart--a goal. He wanted to be inside the bright shining rooms, see what was going on, listen to the people playing cards and dance merrily in the ballroom. Everything looked bright and gay, lit so vibrantly in the night.

  Another train ticket, this time to Pittsburgh, and his fate was sealed. Travel hooked him, within a year he had a bustling company that secured trips on steamers and railroads. Another ten saw him dancing, drinking, and laughing in the very hotel that inspired him. Not long after he’d read the accounts in the papers of the engulfing fire that consumed the declining hotel. In her heyday she’d stood unique in the Pennsylvania Mountains with her eight-hundred electric lights, indoor bowling lanes, fountains, bandstands, and picturesque walkways stretching safely into the fern covered cliffs overlooking the Cucumber Rapids, the dangerous dark water swirling mere feet away from the paths.

  But today Falls City was better known in its latest incarnation, Ohiopyle, and the days of upscale lodging faded in favor of raucous whitewater rafting companies. The land was no less beautiful and served a double edged lesson to the travel mogul that dreams changed, or in his case, reverted, as time flowed past.

  Opening his long dormant senses, he quickly found the pell-mell path the floppy dog had taken through the woods. At first the hound seemed to track his natural prey, a rabbit, but after a few hundred feet he was distracted by a fawn. From the scent, Faunus deduced that the doe had hidden her baby off of the game trail hoping to lead the dog away, but the dog stopped and chased the fawn over his mother. All the different textures to the afternoon hooked him and he enjoyed following the dog’s meandering trail as he chased after the fleet-footed deer.

  From up the trail, he heard the hound bay and an answering snort and stamp. Uh oh, Beaujolais had managed to run into something that wasn’t interested in being chased. From the sound of the stomping and snorting it was either the herd’s lead doe or a young buck. It could be worse, Faunus reflected watching the nosy dog dance forward and back, baying loudly, he could have cornered a black bear with cubs. Even without horns the buck was having none of the dog’s shenanigans. Head lowered the buck pawed the ground and snorted, rushing the hound. Beaujolais knew when he was beaten and ran into the brush, tail tucked between his legs; or he would have if his bright red leash hadn’t gotten snagged on a low branch. The buck wasn’t concerned with the dog’s predicament, only with making it go away.

  Without thinking, Faunus changed shape and let out not a few angry snorts of his own as he wrestled with t
he stupid clothes he’d forgotten to take off. Shaking his head, he tossed the now ripped shirt into the brush and rushed forward forcing back the buck. The cowering dog had a few cuts on his hindquarters where the sharp cloven hoofs had raked him. Burbling in pain and confusion the hound whimpered and tried to crawl off but couldn’t.

  Facing the buck, Faunus let the anger he felt show as he pawed the ground, confronting the rival deer. He’d forgotten how much smaller the white-tailed relation was until he stared down at the youngster before him. Confused, the other male backed down, it wasn’t breeding season so territory wasn’t an issue. The buck didn’t understand Faunus’ decision to protect a potential threat to his herd, so he retreated, taking his herd with him.

  Faunus watched the deer leave and for once didn’t feel a pang of loss at being left behind. Turning his head, he looked at the bleeding hound, three long rakes slashed across his hips and back legs. Forgetting his shifted shape, he tried to approach Beau but the hound was having none of it, forced into the proverbial corner he growled and snapped at Faunus. Stepping back onto the game path he considered his options, he could run back to the house and summon help but the dog was bleeding heavily and might go into shock before he returned. In his human form he wouldn’t be capable of carrying the dog swiftly enough to get him to assistance.

  Hanging his head he knew what he’d have to do. “Well, my friend,” he spoke as his face emerged from the furred deer muzzle, “you get to be the first person in nearly a millennia to see my true face.” Quizzically, the Bassett tilted his head and considered the horned being with the warm hands reaching for him. The impressive nose the breed was renowned for blew hard against the proffered wrist and the dog drew back confused before sniffing again. Faunus sighed with relief as Beaujolais sneezed and licked his hand in acceptance.