“Steal the light, is that right?” he asked.
“That is right. Did you steal it?”
He shook his head slowly, then a little firmer. “Not I, no lie.” He pressed his fingertips to his lips to further let me know he was telling the truth.
Then his eyes went big and watery. He turned his head just in time to heave a mighty sneeze, knocking his hat sideways.
“Okay, we don’t want you to stay under that spell for any longer,” I said. “I know you’re allergic to it.”
“Witches itches,” he sputtered between two more huge sneezes.
“Just one quick thing,” I said. “Someone took a light pole too. Did you steal a light pole?”
He shook his head, pressed fingers to his lips, his nostrils quivering, before he went off on another sneezing jag.
“Here,” Ryder said. “Let’s get your stuff in the truck.”
We quickly helped him unload his cart into the cab. There was hot cocoa in there and marshmallows. A lot of marshmallows. Flip slid into the driver’s side and pawed off the spell necklace, placing it carefully on the seat but as far away as he could.
Then he shook, a full body shiver from the ankles up to his head, and he was in his natural state. Bigfoot, in a busted-down old Ford truck, wearing a trench coat and a fedora.
Good thing he’d parked under the shadow of the tree.
Good thing a rainstorm was raging.
Good thing there weren’t a lot of shoppers out.
Good thing I was standing close to Ryder, because I got to hear his little delighted gasp.
I smiled and mimed rolling down the window. Flip nodded and did so.
“If you see anyone taking the light structures in town, please let me know as soon as you can.”
“I will, but still. It is our gathering we will be… havering… having.” He frowned again, and worked his mouth, thinking through the translations in his head.
I made a note to myself that I should really learn his language, but I just wasn’t that good with whistles, purrs, and grunts.
“The moon is soon.” He pointed at the roof of his truck, to where the moon might be if there weren’t so many clouds in the sky. “I am off to our glen, where it will begin. The gathering we ’Foots will be… havering?” He frowned and tipped his head slightly.
“Having,” I corrected. “So it’s the gathering of all the families?”
“Exactly, Delaney.” He smiled. “I am to speak to my heart.” He pointed at Ryder. “We have been apart.”
“You and your heart? You have a special person?” I asked. “Someone you love like I love Ryder?”
He grunted, and it was that mix of guttural and purr I had never been able to mimic. A sweetly goofy grin spread across his face. “My gifts will be bright, my song will be free, then my heart will come home with me.”
“Here to Ordinary?” I asked. “That’s wonderful, Flip. Remember to bring this heart person to me so I can meet them and explain the rules, okay?”
He grunted again, this one softer, higher.
“All right. So do tell me if you see anyone stealing lights,” I reminded him. “And have a great time at the gathering.”
He made a little hooting hum, and I knew that was a happy sound.
I stepped away from the truck; Ryder did the same, bringing the cart with him.
Flip rolled up the window, started the old truck, then rambled out of the parking lot, his indicator light flicking before he turned onto the road and headed north out of town.
“So what do you think?” I asked as we started back to the Jeep, Ryder stopping to swing the cart into the corral on the way past.
“I think I just met a real live Sasquatch. Who likes to rhyme.”
“The rhyming thing is how English makes the most sense to him. But do you think he’s telling the truth?”
“I wouldn’t even know how to read his body language.”
I glanced over at Ryder. Even in the rain, even in the dark and wind, his smile was bright.
“You liked him, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“So you don’t think he stole the traffic light?”
“He didn’t look guilty to me. But you know him better. What do you think?”
We’d made it to the Jeep, and both got in as quickly as possible.
I started the engine to warm the vehicle but shivered anyway. Oregon storms hit to the bone even through layers of waterproofing and wool.
“I think I want dinner and a hot shower. And not necessarily in that order.”
“I like the sound of that. Are you off the clock for the night, or do you have reports to file?”
I did have reports to file. Being a police officer meant the paperwork never ended. But the dash clock said it was 5:30. With the windstorm building, and a power transfer happening bright and early tomorrow morning, my best chance for food, downtime, and maybe even sleep was opting out of my habitual overtime.
“I am so done for the night,” I said. “How about you? Any extra work waiting for you at the construction site?”
“Nope. That’s buttoned down. Next project starts up in three weeks.”
The reminder was there. Maybe he didn’t mean it to be, but he would be slammed with business soon. Then we would be working the festivals, working our jobs, and dealing with everything else that happened in a town like ours. The window of time for our vacation—any one we picked—was swiftly closing.
This weekend was pretty much it.
I didn’t bring it up again. Not while I was dripping wet and hungry.
“It appears we may have synchronized evenings off, Mr. Bailey,” I teased instead.
“It appears we do. Any suggestions for how to fill our time, Ms. Reed?”
“Dinner?” I asked hopefully. “Shower?”
Ryder fiddled with the vents and held his hands over the one nearest him. “Someone might have left chicken marinating and fresh homemade bread cooling.”
I groaned and my stomach rumbled at his words. “You are the best fiancé in the world.”
He leaned toward me and gave me a quick, firm kiss. “That goes without saying. Now drive. I’m starving.”
So I drove.
Chapter Seven
The storm was still raging, but Ryder had started the fire, and his dog, Spud, was over there snoring. The dragon pig was using the dog’s butt for a pillow.
“New placemats?” I asked, tapping one of the half-dozen laminated mats on the kitchen island. It was a beautiful brochure touting all the fun things to do in Sedona. Next to that was Chicago, the Olympic rainforest, and a spelunking map.
Ryder straightened as he removed the food from the oven. “I had a little time on my hands.”
I picked up Sedona, turned it over, and grinned when I saw a list written in Ryder’s clean blocky script. “Pros: restaurants, artisans, wine tour, canyon tours, stars. Cons: too woo-woo.”
“You think Sedona, Arizona, is too woo-woo? For the woman who spends her life dealing with gods and monsters and magic?”
“They have a buttload of energy vortexes there. Says so in the pamphlet.”
“I think I can handle a few energy vortexes. At least they aren’t gateways for demon spawn.”