Beauty and the Beastmaster (Mystic Springs Book 3)

by Linda Winstead Jones, Lisa Childs

  Cindy Benedict had told her Silas trained the dogs that came to him. Gabi found the phrase dogs that came to him odd, but she’d learned to accept oddities in Mystic Springs. Keeping her head down and her mouth shut was part of her survival plan. Don’t make waves. Don’t question a good thing. It was best to observe and keep her mouth shut. Still, the animals Silas herded hadn’t been purchased or rescued, they hadn’t been bred. They came to him, according to Cindy.

  Not her problem; she should not care, or even wonder. So she didn’t.

  She and Silas had been on what some might call a date once, a few months back. That disastrous evening had been her only date-like activity since coming to town. It was all Marnie’s fault. The friend and librarian had insisted on setting up a double date. Gabi had said no a hundred times, but Marnie was nothing if not persistent. At the last minute Marnie and Clint had cancelled, leaving Gabi alone with Silas. She wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Marnie had intended to cancel all along, though her friend had heartily denied that charge.

  Everything had gone wrong. The strap on her favorite pair of shoes had broken while she’d been walking toward Eve’s to meet Silas. Neither of them were great conversationalists, and the silence over dinner hadn’t been comfortable. They’d both been coerced and then abandoned by their friends. The food at Eve’s had been good as always, but she’d choked on every bite and had ended up leaving more than half on her plate.

  Eve’s feelings had been hurt, she could tell.

  Halfway through dinner, Silas had gotten a call on his cell. He hadn’t explained exactly what was going on, but he’d been alarmed. She was pretty sure she’d caught one too-loud word from the woman on the other end of the line. Bats. That couldn’t be right. Bats in Mystic Springs? Horrors. Silas had wolfed down what was left of his meal, thrown some money on the table, apologized, and left.

  Shortly after his abrupt departure, Gabi had started walking toward home. Well, limping, thanks to the broken strap on her shoe. She hadn’t even made it to the police station before it started to rain, suddenly and hard. Soaked to the bone, she’d collected Mia from a babysitting Cindy, gone home, and as she’d peeled off soaked clothes and tossed the shoes into the garbage can she’d sworn that dating was not for her.

  Silas had stopped by the beauty shop a couple of days later, asking if she wanted to try again.

  She did not.

  He didn’t come to her to get his hair cut, so she didn’t have to see him often. She might run into him occasionally on the street, at town events, or in Eve’s. When they did cross paths he said hello and nodded, if she happened to look in his direction and he noticed her, but he didn’t ask her out again. Just as well.

  His hairstyle was too neat for her to think he’d cut it himself. Like a number of the men in town, he probably went into the barbershop in Eufaula, which was just north of Mystic Springs. She didn’t mind. Her business was healthy enough without him, and the others who drove up the road a ways for their styling needs. She didn’t have to cut every head of hair in town.

  Especially not his. Silas was one of those guys, too good-looking not to realize it, oozing testosterone. He didn’t have a beard, exactly, but he always seemed to need a shave. She suspected that was by design. Scruffy was a good look for him. Not every man could pull it off.

  She’d been pretty vehement when she’d turned down his offer of a second date. He wasn’t the kind of man to presume she’d change her mind because he was God’s gift to women. She’d said no, he’d nodded and left, and that had been that. If he asked again…

  No. She couldn’t let her mind go there.

  The truth of the matter was, she could like Silas too much with just a little encouragement, and that part of her life was over. If she hadn’t realized it before their disastrous date, she’d accepted it after. She couldn’t afford to get involved, not with him or anyone else.

  She loved to read, and was a regular at the library, but she was going to have to give up romance novels entirely. She’d stick to historical fiction and cozy mysteries, and then maybe she wouldn’t take the time to ogle a man running past her shop.

  When she’d driven into Mystic Springs a year ago, she never would’ve imagined she’d be here this long. If Mia hadn’t decided to scream every time the car turned right out of what she now knew was a place called Harry’s Bar and Grill, Gabi never would’ve realized the small town existed.

  After being directed into town instead of away from it, and taking a short nap in her car, she’d gotten her gas and then decided to grab a bite to eat at the bakery down the street. The owner there had taken a liking to Mia, and had admired Gabi’s hair. One thing led to another, Gabi mentioned that she’d once worked as a hairdresser, and Ivy had mentioned the town hairdresser wanted to retire but couldn’t find anyone to take her place, and now… here she was.

  No one seemed to mind paying cash. She’d never had anyone question that request; they didn’t even seem to find it odd. For a while Gabi and Mia had lived in the room over the beauty shop, but last fall they’d moved into a small house near Mike and Cindy Benedict. The rent was outrageously low, and Cindy sometimes babysat, so — win-win.

  Would Cindy want to watch Mia once her own baby was born?

  Gabi thought of that now and then, but she didn’t worry about it. She and her baby were safe. They’d made a life here. No one would find her. How could they? She had no bank account, no social media presence, no ties that might point anyone in her direction. She’d been using a fake last name since stopping here, but she’d kept her own first name, and Mia’s. If she’d realized they’d be here so long maybe she would’ve changed those, too, but it was too late for that. She hadn’t filed taxes last year and wouldn’t this year. She hated that; she’d never been what anyone would call a rule-breaker, much less a lawbreaker, but there was no way around it.

  There was a phone — a really old landline — in the shop she could use if she needed one, and the grocery store had a rack of disposable pre-paid phones near the register. Not that she’d been tempted to buy one. Who would she call?

  There would be challenges ahead; she knew that. She’d handle them as they came. To worry about the future was a waste of time.

  She literally lived one day at a time.

  The dogs, and Silas, ran in the other direction, heading back toward his place. He was the veterinarian and animal control specialist for Mystic Springs. Some called him the critter guy, but not Gabi. That nickname was too undignified for a man like him.

  One of the dogs headed to the beauty shop entrance. It was the same bloodhound that had decided to rest on her business’s doorstep almost every day for the past two weeks. Before that it had just wandered over on rare occasion, and had obediently returned when Silas called.

  Other dogs had dropped out of the pack and been replaced by newcomers as the months went by, but the bloodhound stayed.

  For the past week or so when the bloodhound stopped at her door, Silas came to fetch him rather than moving on and calling out to the disobedient dog. He’d look inside, nod in Gabi’s direction, and sometimes even smile. She had no choice but to return the greeting of a simple nod, an acknowledgement of one person to another. She’d even caught herself smiling. Not that she intended to, it just happened. A couple of days ago she’d gone to the door to make sure everything was okay, and she’d asked for the dog’s name. Judge. Looking at that somber face, the name seemed appropriate.

  Sometimes her heart would leap a little when she saw Silas. He did have a great voice. Deep but not too deep. Smooth, somehow, but not polished. And to be honest, there was something about his smile and those dark eyes that made her clench and tingle where she hadn’t been touched in a very long time. When that happened, she made herself remember their one, bad date.

  Her mantra became, I don’t need a man. I don’t need a man.

  What she really meant was she couldn’t trust a man. Not any one of them, no matter how much they made her tingle.
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  Silas looked down and chastised Judge, then opened the door to Gabi’s shop. “Got anything this afternoon? I could use a trim.”

  His dark hair was getting a little long, but why now? Why not keep going to whatever barbershop or salon he’d been going to? “It looks fine to me,” she said casually.

  Eyebrows lifted slightly.

  Gabi sighed. It didn’t make sense for her to refuse to cut his hair. Might as well get it over with. “I have an opening at two.”

  He nodded and left, running to catch up with his dogs. Judge followed. The bloodhound glanced back once. Silas did not.

  “I don’t need a man,” Gabi whispered. “I don’t want a man.”

  The tingle that worked its way through her body called her a liar.

  Silas ran toward home, the pack a short distance ahead and Judge trotting along beside him, only occasionally veering off to investigate an interesting smell or noise. He himself felt the stir of smaller animals, birds, even insects who were drawn to him, who were disturbed by his presence. They didn’t move close, not without invitation, but they connected to him on a level no one outside Mystic Springs could ever understand.

  With a scowl on his face, Silas looked down at the bloodhound who once again ran beside him. “What is it about the beauty shop that makes you stop there nearly every damn day?” Something was up. The dog had been drawn to the beauty shop well before Jenna had mentioned Gabi’s name and Silas’s part of her scheme.

  Judge didn’t answer. He was too caught up in the exhilaration of the run, the smell of the woods, a squirrel not too far away.

  Silas had been mulling over Jenna’s request for the past week. February had gone and March had arrived, while he’d pondered. Like many in town, he saw the appeal of complete isolation. Not everyone agreed which is why Jenna and Donnie, and whoever else they were working with — they’d kept that information to themselves — wanted to keep their plan quiet.

  According to Jenna it would be Silas’s job to get Gabi Lawson out of town, to make sure she and her kid were well away from the town limits when the spell went down. Did she know about their one date months ago? If she knew much about that night, she would’ve gone to someone else.

  Clint’s new wife had been certain he and Gabi would be well suited. She’d wanted to play matchmaker and had been very disappointed their dinner together hadn’t been more successful. Neither of them had wanted to be there. Gabi wasn’t chatty and neither was he. When he’d gotten the phone call about the bats in Lilian’s attic it had almost been a relief.

  It had been stupid of him to suggest they try again. At least she’d been smart enough to shut him down.

  He had less than three weeks until the equinox. It would arrive at a late hour, which meant getting Gabi out of town for the day wouldn’t do the trick. Jenna wanted all the Non-Springers gone before she cast the spell that would isolate Mystic Springs and the people who lived here.

  Silas didn’t have any love for Non-Springers, as a whole. Their presence meant Springers had to hide their abilities, which was annoying. And if heaven forbid those without magic found out what was going on all around them, their reactions varied from horror to sick fascination to jealousy. There were a few exceptions, of course, there always were, but still…

  Jenna’s reasoning seemed to be motivated by more than a simple dislike. Non-Springers would weaken the spell, she said. She’d grudgingly decided to allow a few to stay, specifically those who were married to Springers, knew their secrets, and — most importantly — were carrying Springer babies. Marnie Maxwell and Cindy Benedict, in particular. Everyone else had to go. He hadn’t known Cindy was pregnant until Jenna told him.

  He still wasn’t sure why Jenna had chosen him to run Gabi out of town. She knew he was in favor of isolation, but there was no way for her to be certain he’d cooperate. Maybe she’d come to him because he led such a solitary life. If he was going to tell anyone it would probably be one of the dogs, who’d keep his secrets well as they always had. Maybe she thought she could charm him into doing as she asked. Jenna had always been able to get men to do what she wanted them to do.

  For the past week he’d considered his options. He could do as Jenna asked or he could flat-out refuse. He could go to Clint and spill the beans about his ex’s return and her plans. She’d begged him not to, had said Clint would interfere. Still, Clint was a friend, and one way or another they were going to have to talk.

  Maybe he’d make a decision this afternoon, after he allowed Gabi to cut his hair. He wanted to size her up, get a better feel for her before he made up his mind.

  Brigadoon. He’d been tempted by the idea over the years, and he wasn’t the only one. But truth be told, wishing for something that didn’t seem possible was very different from making it happen. Did he really want to be cut off from the world, along with the rest of the town and the people in it?

  Gabi was very pretty, delicate in a way that might appeal to a man’s protective nature. There was something about her…

  It was just as well that their date had been a bust. For the past several years, Silas’s romantic relationships had been short-lived, carefully planned, and always took place away from Mystic Springs. He planned to stay single, so taking up with a woman from town could lead to all sorts of complications.

  Why would he even entertain the idea of a permanent relationship with a woman? With the animals he cared for he always knew what they were thinking, what they needed, what they wanted. With women? Nada. God, it was frustrating.

  He’d been keeping his distance from the pretty Non-Springer for months, or trying to, but that was about to change. Maybe if he spent a little time with her he’d come up with a way to ease her out of town. Or else he’d decide it was right that she be allowed to stay, Jenna whatever-her-name-was-now be damned.

  His place, home and work, spread out over more than six acres of land. Surrounded by woods, and yet not too far from town for his two-legged customers, he was situated almost an equal distance from the end of Main Street and the river.

  A bit farther to the south was where the springs for which this town was named were located. Most of the animals he cared for, trained, and eventually found homes for, were drawn to those springs and instinctively drank from the clear water there. For a while the magic that infused the town affected the animals. They didn’t develop abilities any more than a human who drank the spring water would, they remained ordinary in most ways, but the energy they experienced for weeks after was enough to drive any living being over the edge.

  Wild animals were not as affected by the spring water as those who’d been domesticated. Like the Springers many of them had been born here, and the water was a part of them in a way that could not be explained. They were at home in this forest; it was theirs as much as it was his. Silas helped when he could, if his help was needed, but for the most part he left the wild ones alone.

  The dogs needed him. They needed an outlet; they needed a purpose.

  So Silas and the dogs ran. To town, through town, through the woods. He trained some of them, those who displayed an affinity, in a field he’d designed for that purpose. There they practiced agility, grew stronger, and learned to obey commands. All the dogs occasionally howled at night, chased rabbits and squirrels in their dreams when they did sleep, and they followed him.

  He was their alpha. Without him they would’ve terrorized the town until the effects of the springs wore off. He knew what they needed, what they felt, what he could do to help them. The smarter dogs were trained and sold to police departments across the Southeast. While the larger departments had resources for more traditionally trained search and rescue or drug sniffing dogs, the smaller towns and counties were often strapped for cash. Silas always managed to provide what they needed at a reasonable price.

  His part-time helper, Damian Tucker, wanted to learn as much as he could about caring for and training the dogs. The lanky, always-happy kid was barely twenty years old, and possessed no magic
al abilities where animals were concerned. Still, he did have a natural gift, with the dogs in particular. Poor Damian was mildly allergic to cats and deathly afraid of birds. His mother was a witch and his father could manipulate fire and water, but Damian wasn’t particularly powerful when it came to his inherited abilities. He did have a real love for animals. Silas could appreciate that. There were times he needed the help. He never stayed away from home very long, but his work did require the occasional overnight trip.

  At least, for now.

  Silas suspected that one day Damian would leave Mystic Springs and set up as a dog trainer out in the world. At least, that seemed to be part of the plan. If Jenna had her way, Damian wasn’t going anywhere.

  Some of the animals Silas took in simply needed a home, and he took care of them, too. They weren’t strong enough or smart enough to be trained as a police or service animal. Because he knew what they needed he was able to place them carefully. An older couple for a dog who needed peace and loving companionship after years of abuse, a family for a young pup who wanted only to play and be boisterously loved.

  And then there was Judge, who was reluctant to leave even though he’d been here longer than most. Judge had shown up almost a year ago, to the day. Plenty of police departments would love to have a bloodhound, but until Judge was ready to leave he was welcome to stay.

  What Judge needed, what all these animals needed, was a home.

  If Jenna was able to cast her spell, his business would cease to exist. Those from outside would forget him. Gradually or instantaneously? He didn’t know, and didn’t care. Those Non-Springers who’d be scared or prodded out of town over the next couple of weeks would forget, too. He wondered if they’d have a hole in their memory, a touch of amnesia, or if some false memory of their time here would fill in the blanks.