by Laura Kenyon
Ruby sucked her bright red lips together and smacked them apart. Then she launched into a coughing fit.
“Choke on your lipstick?” Belle asked, shocked by her easy iciness. She didn’t know where it was coming from: Pregnancy hormones? Side effects from the rampion? Or some chemical imbalance only Ruby and Gray could trigger? Either way, she hardly recognized herself. And judging from Ruby’s startled glare, she wasn’t the only one.
“What on earth’s happened to you?” she asked, attacking her nose with a tissue. “Where is that sweet, obliging girl the world fell in love with five years ago? The one who volunteered her life to save her father. Who put up with five horrible sisters. Who knew the importance of sacrifice for the greater good.”
“What happened?” Belle rolled her eyes to the sky. “She got sick of being a doormat, that’s what happened. She got sick of being tossed aside as soon as everyone else was done with her. She’s dead.”
Ruby’s gasp could have pulled half the oxygen from the universe. “She. Is. Not. She’s just lost, and confused. And I’m here to help guide her back.” Belle blew a puff of air out the side of her mouth. “The Belle I know would take a bullet to save just one person. Now, I’m telling you that love as we know it is in jeopardy … and countless lives will be ruined … and all you have to do to stop it is keep your blasted wedding vows! I’m sorry, Belle, but I just don’t see the big dilemma. Going back to your husband doesn’t have to mean going back to everything as it was before. That part’s up to you. You can still keep this place and your child if—”
“Keep this place?” Belle’s cheeks filled with heat. “Says who? Have you and Donner been talking about this?”
Ruby ran her tongue along the outside of her teeth. “He contacted me.”
She only said the words once, but they seemed to echo—ever so softy—a hundred more times in Belle’s head. Donner had contacted her? What had she told him? Is that why he was acting like his curse was returning? Was his visit all an act? But then there was the pre-nup, so how much did everything else really matter?
“I didn’t tell him anything about his curse,” Ruby assured her. “But he’s starting to figure it out on his own—which should prove to you right now that it’s true. And pretty soon, you’re going to have to make a decision. You can either fit him into this life or—”
“I’m aware of the options.”
“Are you?”
Belle tried to conceal a shudder. Then she stomped forward so her sneakers were pressed against Ruby’s pumps.
“I may no longer be a martyr, Ruby, but I’m not an idiot. I’ve heard you. I know what I stand to lose—or what you think I stand to lose. I just need time to cope with this gigantic mountain you’ve chucked in front of me.”
“I didn’t write the rules. And the longer you wait, the harder it will be to do what needs to be done. You’re already playing with fire.”
“Really?” Belle actually snorted with disgust. “Playing with fire? That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”
Ruby put both hands on her hips and tried to make herself taller. Even still, she barely came up to Belle’s chin.
“I was happy, Ruby. Because for once in my life, I was going to provide for myself. It took me all summer to realize I hated the woman I’d become with Donner. I was going to do something that made me proud, that made me feel like I’d done something worthwhile. And then you—”
“You don’t think saving a man from a lifetime of agony under a curse was worthwhile?”
Belle’s train of thought wobbled. Of course it had been worthwhile. Donner had given her some happiness—at least a solid year. He’d given her a baby, technically. He wasn’t a murderer or a sociopath. And his interest in their child showed he could care about some things. But did that have to be enough for her? Just thinking about it made breathing difficult.
“Are you all right?” she heard Ruby ask.
Belle cocked her head in confusion, unsure why the fairy was looking at her so strangely. But then a wave of cold flooded into her face. She felt a stab to her abdomen as her forehead filled with sweat and the world began to spin. She reached for Ruby’s arm just as everything swirled together.
The next thing she knew, there was yelling, and running, and the smell of freshly mown grass. Half-conscious, she felt herself floating over the ground—her head pressed beneath someone’s chin and hot breath dampening the inside of her ear. Then there was the squeak of a door … and everything went black.
Chapter Eleven
SNOW
From: snowdreams31417@freenet
Sent: Sunday, September 12
To: cinderella.charmé@carpale.gov
Subject: Greetings
Dear Cindy,
I hope this message finds you well and rested. Most likely I’m the last person you’d expect to receive an email from while on holiday. (Goodness knows it took me an hour to remember the login information for my account!) But I have wondrous news to share with you, and wanted to do so before you heard it from a reporter. In light of recent events, I fear this might arrive too late, but as always … happy thoughts.
So yes, the stars have finally aligned and the adoption agencies have come through! Griffin and I are going to welcome triplet baby boys (poor darlings orphaned by a tragic accident) to our humble abode in the middle of October. You’ll be back by then, right?
We are over the moon with gratitude! This just goes to show that good things do, eventually, come to good people. My mother’s poisoned apple may have broken some of my insides, but it did not break my spirit! Let’s all remember that when the world seems at its darkest, light will prevail.
Peace and love always,
Snow
P.S. When you eventually do read about this in the paper, please ignore the commotion surrounding Griffin’s birthday mishap. We’ve encountered this sort of thing before—when we refused to connect to the subway line, for example, and when we decided to rent out Tantalise Castle. But tolerance always trumps reactionary oppression. Deep down, people are good-hearted. Please don’t waste a single moment worrying. We’ll be fine.
Chapter Twelve
BELLE
The first thing Belle sensed, before even opening her eyes, was heat—a pulsating warmth on the left side of her face. The crackling of a fire. Someone humming in the distance. Then the smell of something delectable clinging to the air. She could practically feel it, like ropes of beef stew or chicken cacciatore, hoisting her up from whatever depths to which she’d fallen and luring her back to life.
The last thing she remembered was being outside in the cold, in the darkness, talking to Ruby. She’d gotten agitated, understandably, and—was it a panic attack? She recalled warm cotton, the smell of spring, and two sturdy arms lifting her up as if she weighed no more than driftwood. She’d felt safe there, comforted, like a bride being carried over the threshold.
Suddenly, the humming stopped. Heavy footsteps grew louder. She contemplated pretending to still be asleep. She was pregnant and married, after all. She had no right fantasizing about some muscle-bound hero. She’d fainted and the nearest able-bodied man had hauled her into the inn. There was nothing else to it.
“Ah, and her majesty returns.” The voice was cheerful, and young … with an edge of mischief.
The orange glow on the other side of her eyelids dimmed as a warm but rough hand touched her cheek. She jerked awake.
The first thing she saw was a pair of stormy gray eyes, flickering intently into hers. For an instant, she thought they looked tight and worried. Then she blinked, and everything else came into focus—a self-satisfied grin, thick brown hair, the wood stove she’d chosen for the groundskeeper’s cabin. Gray was leaning over her, both hands on his knees and his nose just inches from her cheek.
A pulse zapped from her feet to her chest. She immediately went on the defensive. “What happened? Why am I here? Where’s Ruby?”
Gray’s grin fell and he edged back. She regretted her
tone instantly. Erecting a wall for the sake of self-preservation was one thing, but she was becoming a real witch.
“You fainted.” He stuffed both hands into his pockets. “So I brought you inside.”
She looked around the cabin. She hadn’t been in it for weeks but remembered each piece of furniture. They were the best of what Trudy left behind when she moved out: The overstuffed couch and the paintings of flowers and the less tattered of two plaid armchairs. (The other had gone straight to the dump.)
“Where’s Ruby?”
“Ruby? Oh, she evaporated as soon as I set you down.” Gray’s eyebrows danced up toward the ceiling. “Good friend.”
“Did you say something to her?”
He pulled his hands free again and crossed his arms. If that really was concern she’d seen in his eyes a moment ago, it was long gone. “Only that her dress made a great flashlight.”
“But why did you bring me here and not the inn?”
“Geez, are all royals this difficult to please? I just assumed you wouldn’t want to be seen carried, unconscious, to your bedroom? Maybe I should have laid you right on the couch in the lounge? Given you a little Snow-White-in-the-glass-coffin attention. I can still arrange that, if you want.”
Belle sucked in the soft flesh of her cheeks and bit down. She wasn’t used to this sort of heated give-and-take, but she wouldn’t be bested by it. “I can walk now, but thanks.” She eyed his arms—nowhere near as large as Donner’s—until he saw her looking. “I hope I wasn’t too heavy for you.”
“Well,” he said with a shrug. “Like we established before, you are a package deal.”
Ignited, Belle flung the blanket from her lap and jumped up, ready to pounce. Ready to claw into him … all three of him … as the room started spinning again and she felt her knees buckle. Gray lunged forward just in time to wrap his arms solidly across her back. She felt him tremble as he leaned down with her, depositing her back into the cushions and sliding away again.
“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, as were her next three assurances that she was feeling fine. That she needed to go back and feed Beast. That her lightheadedness was just a symptom of the pregnancy, or stress. It most certainly was not the fact that being pressed up against him had made her want to throw up—not because he was repulsive, but because he was suddenly the complete opposite.
When he disappeared into the kitchen—and informed her that he’d already fed her dog—she had a moment to try and regain focus. Breathe, Belle. This isn’t high school. You’re locked into history’s most screwed up marriage. And Gray’s a pain in the ass anyway.
“Ginger ale for the nausea, water for digestion, and hot stew for the soul,” he listed upon return, placing a tray on the coffee table. Belle repositioned herself and leaned over the bowl. Coils of steam twisted up and into her nostrils. It smelled like heaven. “It’s turkey instead of beef, since I wasn’t sure about your diet. I’ve heard different things.”
“You’ve heard things about my diet?”
He took one bowl for himself and dropped into the armchair opposite her. “About what you’re supposed to eat while pregnant.”
Belle scooted to the edge of the couch and moved the blanket around in her lap. She didn’t need it. The wood stove threw plenty of heat. And she’d fainted, not come down with the flu. But she liked having an extra barrier between them.
“Is that bothering you?” Gray asked, reaching for the blanket.
“No!” Belle threw her hands on top of it. “I mean, I like it. I was just flattening it out so I could hold the bowl here.” She reached for the stew and nestled it carefully on top of her legs, which were now on other side of her beach ball belly. Funny how much larger it seemed when she was sitting. It didn’t take long for her to realize this wasn’t going to work.
Judging by Gray’s expression, he’d noticed too.
“Should I feed it to you?” He smirked. “I’ve been told I do one heck of an airplane.”
Belle lost her grip on her spoon. It dunked back into the bowl, sloshing turkey stew all over the place. Gray hopped up to fetch napkins and another blanket while Belle fumbled through the stew-soaked one, searching for a tag.
“I’m sorry,” she said, making a motion to get up. “I should wash this. If I put it in now, I can have it back to you by morning.”
“Stay.” His tone was insistent and protective. Her father used to sound that way when he caught her doing her sisters’ chores in the middle of the night—which happened all the time.
She ate the rest of her stew holding the bowl an inch from her mouth. It was delicious.
“This is amazing,” she said, feeling a tinge of jealousy. She was supposed to be the best cook at the Phoenix. It was what she brought to the table. “So you fix cars, retrofit hot water heaters, clean gutters, landscape, and cook, too. Where did you learn all that?”
Perhaps it was the fire. Perhaps it was her vulnerability. Or perhaps they were just getting used to each other. But Belle spent the next twenty minutes with her jaw half open, listening to Gray’s many tales of adventure. Apparently, the farm boy had spent the past decade bouncing between kingdoms and realms like a chain letter. He’d worked in a prison, a graveyard, an iron mill, a fishing boat, and a tavern (hence the delicious stew). He’d spent time as a cab driver, a logger, an electrical line worker, a firefighter, a skydiving instructor, and—for a few months—a tornado chaser. He’d learned volumes about himself and about the world, but he wasn’t finished.
“So are you running away or searching?” Belle asked, scraping up the last chunk of potato in her bowl. Judging from the jobs he’d held, his goal seemed to be a premature death. No wonder he had all those scars on his arm.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’ve tried on all those lives but haven’t stuck with a single one. You’re either trying to forget about something, or there’s something you’re looking for but haven’t found.”
Gray frowned and began piling things back onto the tray. “You don’t want to know.”
Belle paused mid-chew. Had Rapunzel run any sort of background check on this guy?
He examined her expression with curiosity, as if trying to decode the sudden anxiety. “Oh! Hey.” He tossed his hands up in innocence. “I just meant you wouldn’t understand. I’m not a criminal or anything. Cross my heart.”
Belle stole a quick glance at the door, but she was so comfortable. Between the food and the fire and the stories, she doubted how hard she’d fight if she had to.
Gray took her empty bowl and she settled back into the sofa, pulling the replacement blanket up to her chest. Her left hand sparkled against the flames, illuminating remnants of Ruby’s dress. “If you’re looking for something, maybe I can help you find it.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Try me.”
Gray did that thing with his eyes again, where one side squints down and the corner of his lips turns up. It made her stomach spin. He didn’t have that universal look of attraction—the symmetrical face with sturdy cheekbones and a boxy chin. Donner had that. But Belle couldn’t deny Gray was sexy in a mysterious, haunting sort of way. Sure, he acted carefree and liked to crack jokes, but she was starting to think that was all an act. He was hiding something dark—something he didn’t want people to see on the surface. And to her dismay, that made him more alluring by the second.
“Come on,” she pressed. “You can tell me.”
He let his mouth hang open for a moment, as if contemplating, then left the room. When he returned, he was holding a shovel. A foot-long flashlight hung from the front of his jeans—directing her eyes to an area she’d prefer to ignore. She quickly began examining the rug.
“I still have a few flowers to plant,” he said.
“Now? It’s pitch black and cold out there.”
He gave a sure nod, as if he couldn’t comprehend why that was an issue. “They’re talking about an early frost tonight. That means digging the holes co
uld be a problem tomorrow. Besides, I said I’d finish at seven.”
“So you failed, then.”
His face slanted. “Got a little sidetracked by some damsel in distress.”
“Women,” Belle scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ll come with you then. And you can tell me your big secret.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d really thought about them. Just hours earlier, she was miserable, angry, and hated this guy’s guts. Now, she felt almost intoxicated. Had he spiked the stew? Or was she just getting sick of being so damned cautious?
Gray attempted once more to keep her inside, but she wanted to know more about this secret mission of his. Plus, she was curious to see what he’d done.
“Fine,” he said. “But I’m giving you a jacket.”
The jacket reached down to her knees and smelled like a meadow—like fresh grass rippling on a windy day. She wondered if this was from the detergent, or if he actually smelled this way when he wasn’t digging through dirt and pulling up trees.
Looking sidelong at her every few steps, he set down the path that wound from the cabin to the inn. It was only fifty yards or so, but without sunlight it felt like a mile.
“I didn’t realize it was so dark over here,” she said. A chill raced up her spine. She could barely see his silhouette against the patchy night sky. “We should probably install lights.” Belle twitched at her presumptuous use of the word “we.” Geez, what was wrong with her?
“I’ll add it to my list.”
She nodded and pulled the jacket tighter. Even if she did hire someone for the cabin full time, she couldn’t imagine Gray enjoying life as a groundskeeper—spending hours alone in the hot sun, tinkering with plumbing in the basement, and dealing with Nathan every day. He was averaging six jobs a year. He was seeking something big out of life, something extraordinary. Chances were pretty slim he’d find it here.
When the lights surrounding the inn finally spilled out around them and Belle got her first glimpse of the yard, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Somehow, while she was wandering through the forest, running into Angus, and bickering with Ruby, Gray had laid out a winding patio, built a fire pit in the center, surrounded it with new lawn furniture, and planted a postcard perfect border garden.
