Puca

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Puca Page 6

by Penny Ash

*Muffin hugs PoohLady for comfort*

  *PoohLady hugs Muffin*

  Something in her chest unknotted and she sighed, truly relaxing for the first time in days.

  Muffin: I missed you.

  PoohLady: I missed you too.

  Muffin: How did your gallery showing go?

  PoohLady: I don’t know, I left early.

  Muffin: And did the weasel take care of you properly?

  PoohLady: He’s history. All he ever really was 63

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  interested in was my checkbook.

  Muffin: Ah, I’m pleased for you, girl.

  *Muffin invites PoohLady to live with him deep in the forest*

  PoohLady: I may have found someone else a lot nicer, though.

  *Muffin cries*

  Muffin: Are you sure I cannot interest you in me?

  PoohLady: But I am interested in you, I always enjoy talking to you.

  Emma smiled and wished she really could meet him. She caught herself wondering if he looked as good as he sounded, then shook her head with a silent chuckle. He probably was a geeky-looking guy with thick glasses, a beer belly and a comb-over covering his bald spot.

  PoohLady: Well, it’s getting late, good night, Muffin sweetheart.

  She began to close the program. A thought hit her and she changed her mind, minimizing the window instead. She would leave the program running and read the log of the night’s conversations in the morning.

  * * * * * *

  Kian sighed and smiled; he could love this sweet human girl, even if she were buck-toothed and 64

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  resembled a chubby rat. If only he had not already given his heart to his precious Emma, of course.

  He stood and stretched. A bit of a snack would be nice, he thought and wondered if Tilly or Pin could be persuaded to whip something up for him. He thumped down the stairs, heading for the kitchen domain of the Brownies.

  * * * * * *

  Emma sat and watched her screen saver engage and float pictures of her favorite artworks across the screen. The sound of Kian coming down the stairs spurred her to action and she hurried back to her room. It would not be a good idea if he caught her in the library dressed only in her old grey T-shirt and white lacy panties. She watched from her bedroom, peeking out from the barely opened door, as he walked down the hall toward the kitchen. A wave of fine shivery tingling washed over her and she switched the light off and climbed into bed, asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

  * * * * * *

  Kian felt a warm glowing feeling between his shoulder blades and turned to look just as Emma’s door shut. She had been watching him. He smiled knowingly. He had gotten to her after all; she was just too stubborn to show it. He walked into the kitchen and happily began rummaging around in the 65

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  refrigerator.

  “And just what do you think you’re doing mucking about in my kitchen, Kian Puca?” Tilly asked sternly.

  Startled, Kian jumped and smacked his head on the fridge shelf. He bit back a vile word, having learned long ago not to swear around the feisty Brownie.

  “Tilly, I’m starving and wasting away for want of something to eat,” he said as he straightened up and turned to look at her. He rubbed the back of his head and winced.

  “Starving and wasting away, are you? Well, the cure for that might be a corned beef sandwich,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Aye, that might help, but might not two be even better?”

  Tilly gave a shout of laughter and busied herself preparing the requested meal. Kian sat at the table and watched, waiting patiently and thinking about all the women in his life, particularly the one sweet human down the hall.

  Tilly set the plate in front of him and placed a large cold glass of milk next to it. The Puca inhaled deeply and sighed, all thoughts of women being swept away by the wonderful aroma of the food.

  He finished his late-night snack and headed back to his attic room with a fresh oatmeal cookie in his hand. Passing the darkened library, he noticed the flickering glow of the newly installed computer. He stopped and pondered the wisdom of going to see what was on the screen of Emma’s computer.

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  Knowing she valued her privacy and independence, he still could not quite suppress his curiosity and walked over to the keyboard anyway.

  The picture floating across the screen was an image of a painting by Renoir. The Puca’s eyebrows rose as the painting was replaced by a rendering of a video game character, one he was quite familiar with.

  Intrigued, he reached out and wiggled the mouse bringing the screen to life. The cookie fell from his hand unheeded as he read the words. “Oh, Emma, my sweet precious love,” he said, blinking away the tears that stung his eyes grown almost black with passion. “You are truly mine.”

  He lifted trembling fingers toward the screen and the last line written there. “Well, it’s getting late, good night, Muffin sweetheart.” He touched the screen, then brought his hand to his heart and bowed his head for a long moment. The screen flickered and the pictures began chasing each other across the blackness. Kian took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly, then picked up his cookie and hurried out into the darkness of the night, bounding down the porch steps and flowing into his horse form.

  He galloped across the meadow and stopped at the edge of the forest. Looking back at the darkened house, he nickered softly. One step followed another as he walked back toward the window of the room where Emma slept.

  * * * * * *

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  Something awakened her. Emma got out of bed and shrugged on the old pink floral kimono she used as a robe. She scuffed into her pink fuzzy slippers as she tied her sash, walking quietly to the window. Her hand went to the old lace curtain and moved it back.

  She watched the fireflies glowing, blinking on and off over the newly cut lawn; tiny blue fairy lights.

  The dark forest seemed strangely inviting, as if it was opening itself to her, asking her to come and love it. She could see the silvery light of the nearly full moon sparkling on the water of the shallow creek that ran at the edge of the flower garden. A movement near the woodshed caught her eye.

  The black and white horse stepped out of the shadows and stopped, turning its head toward where she stood at her window. Its long black and white mane fluttered softly in the breeze and it shivered.

  Emma could feel it watching her, a warm feeling like honey flowing over her. The horse tossed its head in an invitation.

  She smiled softly. Another more insistent toss of the horse’s head was accompanied by a stamp of a front hoof. Emma turned and made her way to the kitchen door. Bemused, she saw the glow of tiny yellow eyes watching her from under the stove as she opened the door and stepped outside.

  The horse waited near the porch steps, its head tilted to one side. Emma lifted the hem of her robe and walked down the steps. She stopped in front of the beautiful creature, reaching out her hand to rub its 68

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  nose. “And what are you doing here?” she asked.

  The horse dipped its head and whickered softly at her, butting at her hand. She chuckled and petted him, moving her hand over his cheek and running her fingers through the silk of his mane. “You know, I’ll bet you’d like some sugar.” She turned to go inside.

  The horse butted at her legs. She stumbled forward a step. It butted again, a demanding push against her knees, and she was suddenly thrown up into the air.

  She yelped and braced herself for a hard landing on the ground. Instead, startled, she found herself seated astride the horse. He started walking slowly toward the forest.

  “Whoa! Hey, stop, let me down,” she said, panicked. The horse snorted and gave a little bounce, picking up speed until he was moving at a slow trot.

  Emma grabbed hold of the long flowing mane and tried to tighten her legs against the horse’s body. The horse shivered and tossed its
head, flicking its ears and giving a little dancing sidestep.

  Emma began to relax when it appeared that the horse just wanted to stroll through the forest. She began to enjoy the ride, taking a deep breath and enjoying the scent of pine filling the air. The forest was a living being, the wind rushing through the trees sighing and breathing with her.

  She closed her eyes and leaned forward, running her hands down over the softness of the horse’s coat, laying her cheek against his neck. She smiled, feeling the horse turn its head back and nuzzle her leg.

  “Pretty baby,” she said, softly sighing as she patted 69

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  the horse’s shoulder.

  The animal’s eyes brightened and flashed, glowing with ruby fire at her words. Idly she wondered where the light in the horse’s eyes came from. He slowed, arriving at the edge of the forest. Emma realized they had stopped and began to sit up, thinking her ride was over. A white owl swooped across the meadow before her. The stars were a glittering canopy overhead, held above the emerald counter pane of the grass by the tall spears of the pines.

  Before she had time to do more than gasp, they were flying across the meadow in a wild gallop. She tightened her grip, convulsively holding on, terrified.

  The pounding of the horse’s hooves echoed the pounding of her racing heart. Slowly her terror ebbed away and she became aware of the rippling of the muscles beneath her.

  She let go of her fear and embraced the symphony weaving through her senses. Surrounded by the warm velvet of the air rushing past her, caught up in the poetry of the motion, she moaned. The horse neighed, a wild shriek that split the silence. They were connected, their breath, the pulse of their hearts, becoming one creature reveling in the warm spring night.

  Suddenly the animal screamed again and plunged into the forest, crashing through the underbrush. She gasped, and the horse reared with another shriek.

  Emma’s eyes rolled back in her head and she felt herself falling. She gave herself over to the comforting blackness of unconsciousness.

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  Chapter Six

  mma opened her eyes slowly to bright sunshine Epouring into the room through the open window.

  She sat up and sighed heavily, aching all over. That was some dream, she thought as she started to put her feet into her pink fuzzy slippers. Her toes touched something cold and she gasped, kicking the shoes off with a little yelp. Expecting to see a bug of some sort, her eyes got wide. She slid off the bed onto her knees and reached out to touch the objects that had fallen out of her slippers. Three heavy gold coins.

  Standing up, she started to drop the strange-looking coins on her nightstand. A noise caught her attention, and she went to the window. Kian was by the shed, chopping wood. The sun glinted off the axe head as it swung through the air and sparkled across the fine sheen of sweat that covered his bare chest.

  Her mouth went dry and her stomach clenched. He stopped and turned, looking straight at her window.

  She could not tear her eyes away. The corner of his mouth curved up into a secretive, sly smile, and she brought the hand holding the coins up to her heart, her breath catching, closing her eyes. When she opened her eyes, he had gone.

  Loud barking came from the side yard and she hurried out to the hall, throwing on her robe. That 71

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  silly dog! He was driving her crazy with his barking and tearing around the house at all hours. Good thing she had made that appointment last week to have him neutered; that would calm him down. She hoped.

  Arriving in the yard, Emma found the Puca running in circles, barking wildly. He saw her and made a leap for her, planting huge paws on her shoulders and greeting her with a wet sloppy lick across her face.

  “Gah! Get down!” She pushed at him, trying to get him off her. “Ugh!”

  The Puca backed up half a step and gazed at her with absolute adoration, tail wagging, drooling. She just shook her head, sighing. “Come on, Pookie.” She turned and headed into the house, ignoring the low growl. “Have I got a surprise for you today, sweetie.”

  She smiled to herself.

  She went into her bedroom, followed by the animal, and started to get dressed. The Puca jumped up on the rumpled bed, throwing himself down across the mattress and laying his head on her pillow.

  She took a pair of pale pink lace panties and matching bra out of the top drawer of her dresser.

  Pulling her T-shirt over her head, she tossed it absently toward the bed. It landed on the dog’s head, covering his eyes and drawing a soft whine of frustration from the Puca.

  Emma pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank top before turning to see the dog lying on its back with his head hanging off the edge of the mattress, watching her. She rolled her eyes. “Come on, mutt, 72

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  let’s go.”

  He followed her docilely until he saw her reaching for the hated leash. She turned and smiled at him.

  “Come on, Pookie, let’s go for a ride.” She moved toward him.

  He backed up, growling.

  “Don’t you growl at me, you walking rag rug.”

  Emma opened the collar and advanced on him, backing him into a corner. She ignored the wide-eyed stares of Tilly and Pin. They cringed and prepared to intervene. The Puca bared his teeth and growled in warning again.

  “I don’t think the Puca will be liking to be pulled around by that strap, Miss Emma,” Tilly said, clutching her favorite wooden spoon.

  “Pookie Bear doesn’t have a choice,” Emma said and made a quick grab for the Puca. She snapped the collar on.

  The Puca glared at her, sitting down and refusing to budge. The dog gave a snort. It almost sounded like he was disgusted.

  Emma gave herself a mental head smack; a dog wouldn’t care what someone called him.

  Where was Kian when you needed him? She sighed and glared at the Puca for a second. Oh, well, more than one way to trick a pooch. She smiled and calmly reached into her purse that was hanging on the peg by the back door. The Puca stood up and stepped toward her. She chuckled softly; it was obvious the poor pooch couldn’t help himself.

  She pulled the little box of marzipan out of her 73

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  purse and opened it, taking one out and biting into it.

  She finished the piece of candy and smiled, winking at Tilly and Pin, offering them both a piece. The Puca whined pitifully. He did love the sweet marzipan.

  “You want a piece, sweetie?” she said, holding one just out of his reach. He growled at her and grumbled, snapping at the candy. “Get in the jeep.”

  She tugged on the leash.

  The Puca growled, and then lunged toward the door, jerking Emma along behind him.

  “Hey!” She yelped, suddenly being dragged toward her old Jeep Cherokee. “Stop! Whoa! Pookie!”

  The Puca barked and with a quick sidestep, sat down next to the vehicle. Unable to stop herself, she ran into the side of the jeep, knocking the wind out of herself. She glared at him. If she didn’t know better, she would swear the mutt was laughing at her.

  “You’ll get yours,” she said under her breath.

  She rolled her eyes when the Puca sneezed and wagged his tail. She opened the door and waited.

  “You are officially crazy, dog. Get in the car.”

  Kian smugly leapt into the back seat of the jeep. He watched her shut the door and get into the driver’s seat. Ah, Emma don’t you know it isn’t wise to tease a Puca; he thought and laid his head on her shoulder.

  * * * * * *

  She pulled into the parking lot and stopped the jeep, parking as close to the building as she could. She was 74

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  surprised at how well-behaved the Puca was being as they walked into the vet’s office. Inside, she waved at Tammy, the girl who did most of the grooming, and brought the Puca over.

  “Hi,” Tammy smiled and leaned over the counter.

  “Wow, you’re a big baby, aren’t you?
Does he bite?”

  Aye, girl, I do bite on request, Kian thought with an evil mental chuckle. I’d like to be nibbling on my sweet Emma right now.

  “I don’t know. I inherited him. I’d put a muzzle on him just to be safe,” Emma said.

  The Puca whined.

  “Yeah,” Tammy agreed. “So what do you want done?”

  “Whatever makes him smell better.”

  The Puca snorted and glared at Emma and the girl, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

  “Cool,” Tammy said, taking the leash.

  “He goes to the vet after the bath; he’s getting fixed today.” She smiled. “I’ll be back around five.” Emma left, heading out to do as many errands as she could before she had to pick up the Puca.

  * * * * * *

  Fixed? But I’ve not been broken, Kian thought, puzzled as he watched Emma leaving.

  “Aw, poor baby, no more fun for you,” Tammy led the deceptively docile Kian into the bathing room.

  The Puca looked at the girl called Tammy and blinked. He obligingly climbed up into the large tub 75

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  and waited for the opportune moment. Tammy soaked him down with pleasantly warm water and he growled softly. A bath at the hands of his Emma would be so much more interesting. He sneezed and then shook himself, sending water all over the grooming room and soaking the girl.

 

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