Lucky Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Stories that Get to the Point

by L. A. Boruff

  “What now?”

  “Now, you should rest.”

  * * *

  I awaken a few hours later, when the room is dark and Finn is due to arrive. Moving quickly, I see the blood on the sheets and realize I’m going to have to have housekeeping come in before he can be in bed with me again. I hit the shower and get dressed before I call them.

  Then I give Dean and Damon a shake to wake them. They quickly switch to high alert, ready to protect me, as they haul their clothes back on.

  “That dress,” Dean tells me as I hit the lights and reveal the only item of clothing I now own that isn’t green.

  “I wanted something different,” I tell him, as Damon scrutinizes it.

  “It’s nice, but you suit green,” he decides.

  Dean rolls his eyes at him. “It’s amazing and you do suit green, but you’d look good in anything, Maeve.”

  I’m beginning to get nervous as I head out of the room with them, back down to Bronson’s office where I said I’d meet Finn. My emotions are all over the place by the time the elevator doors ping open and we step out into the casino.

  I glance around and my gaze falls on a shock of red hair. The little girl comes running toward me before I can locate her father. She hugs my legs and cries out, “Tank ye fer savin’ me daddy.”

  “Oh, hello.” I have to laugh as her enthusiasm almost knocks me on my ass. Dean steadies me as she lets go.

  She must only be five-years-old. She’s so sweet as she steps back and looks up at me with those same bright blue eyes that Finn has. “Yer so pretty.”

  “Thank you. You’re very pretty too.” I glance up as Finn walks toward us, a wry smile on his face.

  “Sorry, she got away from us there. This is Caitlin, she’s me daughter.”

  “Hi Caitlin,” I say, “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet ye.” She smiles back and then looks at her father. “Okay. I can go with Anna now.”

  “She just really wanted to meet ye. Her sitter’s back there. C’mon, Caitlin, little girls aren’t allowed in the casino.” He takes her hand and walks her over to a smiling woman who takes her hand and leaves with her.

  “She was so cute,” I murmur. It warms my heart seeing Finn with his daughter. I can’t help wondering if the baby will have his coloring. If she’ll pick up his accent. I’m already drowning in cuteness just imagining it. My face flushes as he walks back over. Slow down, Maeve. You’ve got a lifetime to have a child now. It doesn’t have to be tonight.

  I see he’s in a shirt and nice pants. Date clothes.

  “Does this date come wit chaperones, or are these two just part of the whole package?” He glances Dean and Damon over. “I’d kinda like to get to know ye on yer own, at least at first.”

  “They’re staying here,” I tell him.

  “Have her back by midnight,” Dean warns.

  “Call us if you need us,” Damon puts in.

  I kiss them each and then take Finn’s hand. The world feels bright and warm and wonderful as we walk out onto the strip. So this is what freedom feels like. I think I could get used to it.

  More about Romy Lockhart

  * * *

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  Gold & Frost

  R.M. Walker

  Gold & Frost

  I have a story to tell you. Of secrets, frost, and gold.

  But I won’t start at the beginning, although I know I’m supposed to. For where would the beginning be? The beginning of leprechauns? Or humans?

  Besides, if I did start at the beginning it’d be very boring for you. So I’ll start in a much better place—halfway. Neither the beginning nor the end.

  You ought to know my name first. It’s Maebh.

  It’s not as hard to say as it looks. You just need to remember that bh makes a v sound. So it’s Mave to the ear and Maebh to the pen.

  I’m a human female with a leprechaun father called Garbhan. Remember the v? His name sounds like Garvan, which means rough in the lepling tongue.

  But he’s by no means rough at all. He’s a darling little leprechaun who found me as a babe in the forests. I would have died had he left me there. But Garbhan has a heart of gold, so he took me in as his own.

  Which on its own was a lovely thing to do. But considering that leprechauns hate humans, it meant that he was shunned by his brethren when he refused to take me back. See what I mean about a heart of gold?

  As you likely know, leprechauns are cobblers. They make and mend shoes, and yes, they search for gold coins to put into the pots of gold they keep at the end of the rainbow. Or I should say rainbows.

  Every leprechaun has his own rainbow. Well, if you think about it, it’s logical. If there was only one rainbow, how could it shine in numerous places at the same time?

  The amount of gold in the pots makes a difference to the rainbow as well. If the pots don’t hold enough gold, the rainbow will be broken and hard to see. The fuller the pot, the brighter the rainbow. And to have two pots of gold fully filled brings double rainbows. Double rainbows are when there’s a full rainbow with a second rainbow beneath it. Oh, and in case you’re wondering why there are two pots, it’s because each end of the rainbow has a pot. There must be two pots, for where else would the rainbow go? See, it comes out from one pot and arcs over into the other pot.

  Each leprechaun is the only one who knows the location of his own pots of gold. That’s not because leprechauns are thieves and would steal from each other. No, it’s because of humans. The greed of humans knows no bounds. The search for the pots is a never-ending goal of theirs. They discovered if they caught a leprechaun, the leprechaun would give three wishes in exchange for their freedom. Humans always wasted a wish asking for the pot of gold. It’s wasted because the leprechaun cannot give away his own pots. It’s impossible. But he could give away the pots of another leprechaun. As such, it was ordained years back that no leprechaun could divulge the location of his pots to another leprechaun. In doing so, it protected all the pots of gold belonging to the leprechauns.

  How do they fill these pots with gold? Well, that’s where the shoes came into it. In times past, human kings, princes, noblemen and women, in fact, anyone who had a gold coin could have their shoes mended by a leprechaun. And if shoes were made, then it was two coins and up, depending on the style and work involved. A simple system that worked for countless years. Until humans stole the secret to making shoes from the leprechauns. They began to make their own and leprechauns were no longer needed. To humans, they passed into the stories of myth and legend.

  Of course, this meant the leprechauns had to discover the gold in alternative ways. It can still be found beneath the earth, so now they dig it up for their pots from mines they build.

  Because of me, my father was kicked out of the mines by his brethren. But he didn’t let it stop him from making rainbows. He offered his cobbler services elsewhere. And he was accepted everywhere he went. He makes shoes for the elves, dwarfs, pixies, fairies, even the Oak, and Holly Kings get their footwear from him. I say it’s because he makes the finest shoes, but he says it’s just plum good luck. We disagree on this frequently and in good humour.

  However, it also made him one of the richest leprechauns, and that didn’t go down well. His rainbows were always double, and sometimes he even managed a triple rainbow. Something which most definitely didn’t go down well. Instead of commending him on his shoes, they vilified him even more.

  I’d asked him once if taking me back to the humans would heal the rift between them. He’d told me family is more important than anything else. And that family doesn’t always share the same blood or skin colour. He would never return me unles
s I wanted to go.

  Which I didn’t. Why would I?

  I loved my father deeply, and that love was returned. I was happy and content, safe in the knowledge that nothing could rock my world.

  Except something did rock my world, and it came in the shape of an old friend of my father’s. One he hadn’t seen for years even before he found me. I’ll turn nineteen this coming spring, so he reckons it was nigh on thirty years ago he saw Fiach last. (For those of you interested, it’s Fee-ock to the ear.)

  My father had hoped it was a passing visit for old times’ sake. But Fiach had an agenda. He wanted me to leave my father and go with him.

  Humans are considered ugly by leprechauns, huge, overgrown giants with pale skin and lifeless hair. Did I mention I’m a good deal taller than my father? I think I was nine when I was the same height. But I kept on growing and now the top of his head barely reaches my elbow. He tells me it’s easier for him to tan my hide now that it’s higher. I tell him it’s because I can now use him as my leaning post.

  Anyway, my father demanded to know why Fiach would be interested in taking me when it would most definitely taint his relationship with his brethren. And that’s when we found out what had been growing for years.

  Rumours.

  Rumours are like the first fall of snow in winter. They start off as half a truth in the grey skies above. Then a few flakes fall to the ground. The wind picks up and before we know it, we’re digging tunnels to get out of our little house.

  Rumours start small and so did this one. But by the time it reached our ears, it wasn’t just a snowfall, it was a blizzard.

  I was the reason behind my father’s success.

  How ridiculous. How could I, a human, bring my father luck? Shamrocks brought luck to the leprechauns, not me. Hard work brought my father success, not me.

  But Fiach wouldn’t listen to reason. So, I changed my defence and demanded to know why he would think I’d leave my father luckless to live with him.

  But then he said something which turned my stomach and made my father’s pale green face turn white. The leprechaun king had had enough. His own rainbows were being outshone by my father’s. That was an offence that no leprechaun had ever dared break. Of course, we didn’t know it had happened. We have little contact with the leprechauns. How was my father supposed to know his rainbows were surpassing the kings? It was unheard of. No one had ever been capable of such a feat. Until now.

  The king had demanded my father return me to the human world. But Fiach, a businessman through and through, asked for an alternative arrangement. I would live with the king for seven years and then Fiach for seven years. After that, I would be passed onto the next leprechaun for seven years and so on and so forth. Thus, spreading this good luck amongst the whole brethren. Or so they thought.

  My father had thrown Fiach out on his ear in disgust. He reassured me that while the grass grew under foot, I’d never be taken from him. But grass has a funny habit of dying sometimes. And that’s what happened to us one fateful night just before Yule.

  * * *

  “There, another pair ready. He must be heavy footed that one. A pair of the toughest leather and it lasts him but a month.”

  “Who?” I came in from the tiny kitchen, lowering my head, so I didn’t knock myself out as I was wont to do on occasion. Especially after one malt drink too many.

  “Jack.”

  My stomach flipped, and I felt my cheeks heat. Jack Frost. He made me feel things that I had no name for. He was unlike any other creature I had seen. He didn’t even resemble the face looking back at me in the mirror, although Father said he was part human. His hair was white as snow, his skin as pale as the moonlight. But his eyes were a dark blue, like the deep ocean that surrounded our Emerald Isle.

  As a child, I was shy of my father’s customers, especially the elves who could be mean spirited and difficult to do business with. And Jack Frost was part elf, part human, but I’d never seen any hint of meanness in his eyes or demeanour. He was always extremely polite when he’d visit Father. I’d hide behind the curtains, peeping out, and I didn’t think he ever saw me those first few years. But I saw him.

  He was tall, taller than me, and with a litheness that reminded me of a new branch in spring. He wore a thick shirt of black wool and trousers of black leather. His feet were encased in the boots my father made. Big, black buckled boots, with thick soles and lots of laces to do them up. Mostly he left them undone, which irritated my father immensely. But every time my father would tell him he’d fall over, Jack would laugh. He’d dance around the room, creating the most beautiful patterns in crystals that shimmered and sparkled.

  It was these patterns that first drew me out from behind my curtain. I was sixteen and growing bolder, losing the initial shyness I’d had as a child. When customers visited, I’d stay in the room, working on whatever task I had while my father did business with various creatures. Some I grew fond of, others I learnt to avoid. But the visits from Jack were always my favourite. And then, when I was sixteen, something rather odd happened. Every time I saw the new pair of boots for Jack, my stomach would behave in odd ways, and my cheeks would gain a heat that confused me. My father often wondered if I was allergic to Jack, but I didn’t feel ill. I felt healthy, happy, and excited. But what I was excited over I could never quite work out. Maybe I was allergic to Jack. If I was excited to see him then the excitement would resolve when he arrived. But it didn’t, if anything, it seemed to grow.

  And today was no different.

  I looked at the boots which seemed huge compared to my much smaller feet. When I was smaller, it made me laugh to put on the shoes my father made for the giants and wobble around.

  The clock that sat on the mantelpiece above the fireplace honked and then announced in a deep voice, “Someone approaches your door.”

  My stomach flipped, and I hastened to my chair, picking up the mending I had there. Another honking from the clock made me jump. It rarely honked twice. I looked over at my father with alarm. He held his fingers to his lips.

  “More than one, more than two, more than my hands know what to do.” The clock fell silent.

  “Are you expecting anyone else?” I asked my father.

  He shook his head, the curly orange hair sticking out beneath the hat he constantly wore.

  “Who could it be?” I moved towards the windows, but my father reached out, catching my hand.

  “Stay, child.” He motioned me back and to stay quiet while he scurried to the door. He lifted the little latch that covered the spy hole and peered out. His whole body trembled, and he pulled back sharply.

  “You must go. Quickly, hide in the forest until they are gone.”

  “Who?” I asked him, but my body was already obeying him as I put on my shawl and shoes.

  “Guards of the King, lots of them. Fiach must have sent word of my refusal.”

  “Come with me, Father. In case the King is displeased.”

  “They will just hunt until one of us is discovered. Now quickly, go deep into the forest as far from here as you can. I will send word through the badgers when it’s safe for you to return.”

  “But—”

  “Now, child. Now.” He pushed a basket of supplies into my hand and, checking it was safe to leave, hustled me out of the back door. “Go quickly. Do not look back and do not return until I send word.”

  The door was shut on me, and I was left alone more frightened than I could remember being. The distant sound of thumping feet galvanised me into motion and I headed into the forest, careful not to leave any tracks that could be found easily.

  The forest grew gloomier the deeper I went, but this didn’t bother me. I had grown up exploring these forests and there were no threats in the Emerald Isle. None except the king it would seem.

  Eventually, my feet could carry me no farther, and I sat down on a fallen tree branch and let the tears trickle down my face. I shouldn’t have left my father to face them alone. What if they hurt
him? What if they were hurting him now? And all because I had allowed fear to rule me.

  I got to my feet. I couldn’t stay there, not when he was in danger. I would go back and face them. I would not allow anything to happen to my father. I may not have had the beautiful green glowing skin or vivid orange curly hair of a leprechaun, but I was still Garbhan’s daughter and he was my father. No one would hurt him while I was able to prevent it.

  I travelled as fast as I could through the undergrowth. But now it was day’s end, I found myself tripping over exposed roots, and fallen branches. I was in one mid-stumble when a firm hand gripped my elbow, keeping me on my feet.

  “Hello, bit far from home for you, isn’t it?”

  A voice I recognised instantly had my stomach flipping and my cheeks flushing. But there were more than my allergies for Jack Frost to worry about now.

  “Maebh?” He lowered his head to see into my eyes. “What’s wrong? You’ve been crying.”

  “I was foolish and ran from the house. I should have stayed.”

  “Oh. Have you argued with Garbhan?” he enquired, one wicked sharp eyebrow lifted into a perfect arc.

  “What?” I had never been this close to him. What I once thought of as deep blue eyes, were more accurately described as a swirl of sapphire and jade. They were beautiful, he was beautiful.

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure your father will forgive you. How could he not forgive his beautiful daughter?”

  “No. Oh no, we haven’t argued. The royal guards were coming, and I allowed him to push me out the back door. I should have stayed and stood with him, instead of running like a coward.”

  “The royal guards? Why?” He faced me, folding his arms across the expanse of his chest. It pulled the jumper tight over his arms and my blush grew as I looked at the muscles he had. Whatever I was allergic to it was getting worse.