Part 8 (1/2)

But then, as though it were like some Biblical drama, the truck beside them slammed on the brakes and jerked to the right, while the car expertly went to the left, its nose heading into the trees. In front of them, the way was clear, and Colin hadn't even slowed down.

As soon as they were past, Gemma turned to look behind them. Both the truck and the car had stopped, and a tall man from the truck was crossing the road to the car.

Gemma turned back around. They were doing seventy now.

”That was Luke, the author, in the truck,” Colin said. ”And it was Ramsey in the car. He's a lawyer.”

”It was a pleasure meeting them,” Gemma answered, still holding on.

Colin chuckled as he turned a sharp right onto land that had no hint of a roadway. ”I didn't mean to scare you, but I knew they'd get out of the way. They're both relatives of mine.”

She wanted to ask what he would have done if the road had been full of tourists, but she was too busy holding on to ask him anything. There were holes and little hillocks that made one wheel go down and another go up. Gemma was bouncing on the seat so hard her head sc.r.a.ped the ceiling.

”Shortcut,” Colin yelled over the noise of the siren and what sounded like a metal tool box in the back bouncing up and down. ”We're going across Merlin's Farm.” He pointed to the right.

Half hidden under the trees was a small octagon-shaped building with a tall, pointed roof, like a witch's hat. There was a short door, and to the right of it was an open s.p.a.ce in the wall, with a gate across it.

It didn't take a historian to see that the building was very old.

”That's . . .” Gemma began. ”Is that . . . ?”

”Spring house. Water inside,” Colin yelled back as he s.h.i.+fted gears. In the next second he went around a couple of big trees and a county sheriff car came into view. Colin skidded to a halt amid a dense cloud of dust and rocks.

Gemma stayed in the car, coughing, but Colin leaped out before the vehicle came to a full halt. When the car kept rolling, she saw that he'd left it to her to turn off the engine. She slid over the console, braked, and turned the motor off.

When she looked out the winds.h.i.+eld, she saw Colin and two law enforcement officers in brown uniforms standing a few feet away from a big tree that had been struck by lightning. Half of the tree had fallen to the ground, creating what looked to be a ramp that led upward. It would be easy for a child to walk up it.

Above, sitting on a heavy branch that was bending toward the earth, was a little boy. He had blond hair and big blue eyes that were wide with fear. His mother was standing below and talking to him in a low voice, trying to keep him from moving and causing the branch to break further.

Gemma got out of the car and walked to stand near Colin, her eyes on the child.

”It's going to take them another ten minutes to get here,” Tom, the county sheriff, was saying. He was in his late fifties, a tall, handsome man with gray hair. He turned his back to the boy's mother. ”Carl tried getting out to him, but the branch cracked. Think you can catch the kid if he falls?”

”Sure,” Colin said in a low voice so the mother wouldn't hear. ”But that wood isn't going to hold much longer. I think we should get him down now.” He walked toward the little boy and looked up. ”Hey . . .”

”Sean,” his mother said.

”Sean, my name is Colin, and I'm the town sheriff, and as you can see I'm pretty strong. What I want you to do is let go of the tree and let yourself fall. I'll catch you. It'll be like playing football. That okay with you?”

”No!” the boy said as he tightened his grip on the branch. It gave a resounding crack.

”He climbs everything,” his mother said, her voice vibrating with barely controlled hysteria. ”He gets on the kitchen countertops and into the upper cabinets. One morning I opened a door over the sink and he was sitting inside, smiling at me. He-”

Reaching out, Colin put his hand on her shoulder, and she quit talking. He turned back to the boy. ”All right, Sean, I want you to be very still. Okay, buddy?” The child was only about six feet above his head, but he might as well have been ten stories away. And if Colin waited for the branch to break to catch the boy, both of them could be hurt.

”Cheerleading,” Tom said from beside Gemma.

When she turned toward him, he was staring at her. ”Colin's little brother does a cheerleader pyramid with five girls on him. The top one stands on his shoulders.”

Gemma thought that was an odd thing for him to say. Local sports weren't exactly a pressing concern at the moment. When she realized what he was suggesting, her face lit up.

”Think you can do it?” Tom asked. ”If the boy'll let you, that is. He's a heavy kid, and it'll take some muscle to hold him.” He was looking her up and down in question.

Gemma had on her usual outfit of loose jeans and three layers of tops. Since she was used to working around virile young men, she'd learned to keep covered up. And she'd also learned to work out with them in the way that they did, which meant with weights.

Gemma unzipped her cotton jacket and removed it, revealing a pink cotton s.h.i.+rt under it. She unb.u.t.toned it and took it off. Underneath she was wearing a fuchsia tank top that showed the lacy edges of her matching bra.

One thing about working out with men was that they loved upper body work. Deltoids and biceps seemed to be their main concern. Three years ago, when Gemma came up with the idea of teaching while exercising, she could barely lift a pair of two-pound dumbbells over her head. Now she worked with an Olympic bar, which was forty-five pounds.

When Gemma stood in front of Tom with a lot of skin showing, she knew her arms showed her workouts. Between boxing and thousands of reps for delts, her arms were firm and well shaped.

”Good girl,” Tom said, smiling at her.

Behind them, his skinny young deputy-his name tag read CARL-was grinning. ”You think you can climb up ol' Colin in those pants? Maybe you should take them off too.”

Tom glanced at his deputy in reprimand, then turned to Colin, who was still looking up at the boy. ”Colin! This young lady-” He looked at her.

”Gemma.”

”Gemma is going to do a Shamus and get the boy down.”

”He's too heavy. She can't-” Colin began, but then he looked at her and his eyes widened. Gemma's body was fabulous! She was curvy and taut with muscle. Her large b.r.e.a.s.t.s were above a waist his hands could span. Words failed him. ”Yeah, okay,” he at last managed to say.

”Thought maybe you'd agree,” Tom said.

When Gemma was standing in front of him, Colin looked at her in appreciation. ”Those students of yours taught you a thing or two about working out, didn't they?”

Maybe it was because she didn't have on her usual layers of covering, or maybe it was the way Colin was looking at her, or maybe it was because she'd been without a boyfriend for months, but a strong feeling of desire ran through her. For Colin. For a man who was taken. Owned by a dragon.

”Hey, Colin,” Carl said, ”Jean know about you two?”

Colin gave the deputy a look to shut up, then he put his sheriff face back on and looked up at the boy. ”If I lift Miss Gemma onto my shoulders, will you go to her?”

The boy looked down at Gemma in her skimpy top, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s well exposed, and almost smiled. ”Yeah. She's pretty.”

Colin looked back at her. ”The kid's going to grow up to be another Lanny. Can you lift him?”

”I think so,” Gemma said, but her heart was beating in her throat. When the tree branch cracked again and the mother put her hand to her mouth to keep from screaming, all Gemma could think was, What if I drop the child?

”Okay,” Colin said, and his voice was that of a coach: calm, quiet, and rea.s.suring. ”I want you to step on my leg, and I'll help you onto my shoulders. I'll hold your ankles and balance you. When you're stable, reach out to him. Let him come to you, don't pull. Once you have him, hold on to him and I'll do the rest. Understand?”

”Yes,” she said.

Unnoticed by anyone, Carl turned the video recorder on his cell on and stepped back to get a full view of the action.

Bending a bit, Colin extended his right leg so she could step onto his thigh. He held out his hands to help her. When she hesitated and he saw fear in her eyes, he knew he needed to give her courage. He didn't know her very well, but he'd seen that she had a compet.i.tive spirit. He said, ”Come on, Ranford, those high school girls climb all over my baby brother. You gonna let those kids beat you?”