Dead Man's Deal Part 21

The woman's face popped up and she smiled brightly, her lovely blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight that was pouring through my open blinds. "Good morning, Master Powell," she greeted cheerfully as she dipped into a quick curtsy. She sounded so d.a.m.n chipper that I half expected to see little blue birds fluttering about her, singing some G.o.dd.a.m.n melody to shred the bits of my brain still clinging to sleep. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I am NOT a morning person.

"I am dreadfully sorry to disturb you, but we must get going soon," she continued, resuming the task of folding the pair of boxers in her hand.

"Going? Going where? No!" I said, holding up one hand as she opened her mouth to answer. I dropped my blanket to my lap, somewhat grateful that I had chosen not to sleep in the nude. "First, who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?"

"Oh, terribly sorry," she murmured with a blush staining her plump, round cheeks. "My name is Holly and her ladyship sent me to fetch you. You have an appointment with her this afternoon."

"Her ladyship?" I repeated dully. I wasn't particularly sharp upon waking either. "You mean Gaia?"

Holly nodded as she carried a stack of my underwear over and placed it in one of the bureau drawers as if she had done so a thousand times before.

"Fine. Then why are you folding my underwear?"

"Oh, that," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand and a giggle. "I arrived a while ago, but I wasn't sure when you'd wake up, so I pa.s.sed the time tidying up. You had quite a bit of dirty laundry that needed doing."

At her words, I looked around the room. The enormous mound of dirty clothes in the corner and scattered around the room was missing. h.e.l.l, it even looked as if she had vacuumed my floor. The garbage and dirty gla.s.ses on the bedside table were missing. The door was open to my closet and I could see that not only had all my dirty clothes been cleaned and hung, but she had organized the clothes according to type and color. I flopped back on my pillows and covered my face with both hands.

"How long have you been here?"

"Mmm . . . only four hours."

I dropped my hands and stared at her. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

She giggled once more and shook her head as she came to stand at the foot of my bed again. "I couldn't do that, silly. You were exhausted and you're going to need energy for today."

I wanted to pursue that comment, but my brain was too sluggish. I might have been awake, but it was unlikely that profound thought was going to start happening until I had my first cup of coffee.

"Fine," I said. "When do we have to leave?"

Holly tilted the little watch pinned to her blouse toward her face, squinting slightly at the time. Dropping it back down over her heart, she smiled at me. "Five minutes."

I bolted upright in bed. "What?"

"We must leave in five minutes," she repeated with the same effervescent charm.

"Then get out of here, woman!" I barked, throwing back the covers, no longer caring what the h.e.l.l she saw. "I've got to get dressed."

The strange woman giggled as she scurried out of the room, closing the door behind her as I darted to the closet and started pulling out clothes. I didn't know what you wore to a meeting with Gaia, but I was hoping that she wasn't picky. My escort hadn't thought to give me time to properly prepare. I simply grabbed my one black polo shirt that didn't have a hole in it and my dark blue jeans that had a hole in the back pocket. If I survived all this f.u.c.king chaos, I needed to look into a couple new shirts and pants. At my current rate, I was throwing out more clothes at the end of the day than I was keeping.

Grabbing shoes and socks, I ran to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth and p.i.s.sed at the same time while trying to ignore the fact that everything gleamed brightly. I leaned against the wall as I pulled on socks and boots. A quick glance in the mirror revealed that my hair was a mess, but at least my shirt was right side out. I also needed to shave, but there was no time. Mother Nature was going to have to deal with it.

Holly was waiting in the living room next to the front door when I left the bathroom. She clapped her hands and gave a little bounce when she saw me. "Very good. You're right on time," she cheered.

My gaze skimmed over the rest of the apartment only to find it in immaculate condition. I dreaded having to explain this one to Trixie if she happened to stop over before I could return it to its usual slovenly state. However, I was grateful to see that Holly had even patched the enormous hole in the ceiling. Overall, I was having trouble believing what she had accomplished while I was apparently dead to the world.

Robert was sprawled on the couch, one leg up on the back while the other was dangling off the end. A blanket was pulled half over him and he was snoring softly. He was dead to the world, oblivious to the fact that a perky woman had been cleaning around him for roughly four hours.

As I looked toward the kitchen, my eyes caught on the clock hanging on the wall.

"It's only eight in the morning!" I said, struggling to keep my voice at a whisper. I was never up before noon if I could help it. Consciousness at this hour of the day was . . . it was just unhealthy.

"Yes."

"And you've been here for four hours?"

"Yes." Her cheerfulness never wavered.

I shook my head, forcing my brain to stop trying to understand her. It wasn't possible. "Let me grab my keys. I'm guessing you're driving . . . or do you want me to?"

"No need." Holly placed her hand on my shoulder and the world went black for a second before I found myself standing near a large red barn at the edge of a vast green field bathed in golden sunlight. The air was cool and crisp without being uncomfortable.

There had been none of the usual sense of movement across s.p.a.ce that typically accompanied a teleportation spell. This had been soft and subtle like a whisper, making it extremely frightening. I was dealing with some powerful creatures, and by all appearances, Holly was only a servant.

" 'Bout time you got here," announced a gruff voice. We both turned to see a man stomp out of the darkness of the barn in a pair of worn overalls and mud-caked work boots. A straw hat was pulled low on his head, casting his dark eyes in shadow as he frowned at me.

Beside me, Holly checked her little watch again and then turned a scowl on the man. "We're right on time and you know it!" she argued, but the sour mood faded like a flicker of lightning as she turned to look at me. "We are on time, but Rocky likes to be contrary. You'll be helping him today. Good luck." She gave me what I'm sure she thought was a rea.s.suring pat on the shoulder and then stepped back before disappearing completely.

I had opened my mouth to ask her what the h.e.l.l she was talking about, but it was too late. Frowning, I looked over at the man who was watching me with a grim expression. He didn't look like he was going to be too helpful, but he was all I had. Standing in the barnyard, I realized that I didn't know where the h.e.l.l I was, and while I was sure that I could get myself home, I had a feeling that leaving would not get me one step closer to talking to Gaia.

"Well, I guess we better get at it. We're wasting daylight," the man grumbled before turning back to reenter the barn. With a shake of my head, I followed after him, but paused just past the threshold, blinking as my eyes struggled to adjust from the bright sunlight to the darkened barn. As the world came into focus, I could make out various pieces of farm equipment, stacks of hay bales, and a few stalls. By the sounds of shuffling and heavy breathing, they were occupied by horses.

"Here," Rocky said, throwing clothing at me. I attempted to catch it, but wasn't fast enough. One boot and half of the overalls remained in my arms while the other boot bounced off my chest and hit the wooden floor. "Put that on so you won't get your fancy clothes dirty, city boy."

"Wait!" I snapped, letting everything fall to the ground. "What are you talking about? Why am I going to get dirty?"

Rocky sneered at me, his face becoming a ma.s.s of wrinkles and weathered skin. "You want your meeting with Ma, don't you?"

"Ma? You mean Mother Nature?"

The man gave a little snort. "You're not too quick in the morning, are you? Yeah, I mean Mother Nature. You want your meeting or not?"

"Yes."

"Then you work. If you're lucky enough to get a meeting with the old girl, you have to earn your way in to see her. You work hard enough, the faster you see her. You get me?"

My shoulders slumped but I nodded. "Yeah, I got it." I should have known getting in to see Gaia wasn't going to be that easy. This certainly wasn't the way I had expected to spend my morning, but I could put in a few hours of hard labor if it meant helping the elves.

Bending down, I picked up the clothes that he threw at me. The overalls were big enough to go over the clothes I was already wearing, but I had to sit on a bale of hay to switch out my scuffed up boots for a pair of worn, dirt-encrusted boots.

"Come on, slowpoke," Rocky called as soon as I finished lacing the second boot.

Clomping through the barn in the heavy shoes, I trailed after the older man and headed across the large field. I didn't try to talk to him, or even ask him where we were. Rocky didn't strike me as the talkative type. As Holly said, he was a contrary kind of person and I had a feeling he'd refuse to answer to spite me.

We walked in silence for nearly fifteen minutes until we crossed a split-rail fence and came up to another barn. This one was twice the size of the first and painted white. The scent of manure filled the air, threatening to make me gag, but I kept my comments to myself.

Rocky pulled back the door and gave me a shove inside. The interior was brightly lit, but I still found myself blinking at the two neat rows of black-and-white cows sedately chewing on hay. My companion walked over to the side of the barn and picked something up. When he returned, he thrust a stool and a metal pail into my hands.

"When the pail gets full, there are some large containers at the back of the barn. Pour the milk in there. When you're done with the cow, she'll know to go on out into the yard," Rocky informed me.

"You want me to milk all these cows?" I demanded, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

He chuckled. "Quick one, aren't you? Milk them, and when you're done, I'll be back." Rocky started to turn around and walk out of the barn when something occurred to him, causing him to turn back toward me. "Oh, and a little advice: I wouldn't use any of your hocus-pocus." He was laughing to himself when he ambled out of the barn, heading back over the hill we had walked up.

I hadn't yet thought of using magic. My brain was still trying to comprehend the idea of milking cows. I mean, they had machines for this sort of thing, didn't they? Even as desperate as I was, I knew not to use magic. Besides being afraid of ripping the udders off the cows with a poorly woven spell, I had a feeling that if I used magic, I would either be whisked back to my apartment without seeing Gaia or I'd be forced to start completely over until I did it right.

Tightly clutching the stool and pail to my chest, I stared at the closest cow, feeling somewhat grateful that it completely ignored me as it focused on the pile of hay directly in front of its face. I could only hope that it stayed that way throughout this ordeal, because I didn't have a f.u.c.king clue as to what I was doing. Oh, I knew the basic idea. Put the pail under the udders, sit on the stool, and squeeze the teats until milk squirted out, but then I was worried that there was more to the job than basic theory. h.e.l.l, the closest I had ever been to a living cow was an almost-raw steak smothered in onions and mushrooms from the local steakhouse.

Muttering to myself, I decided to start with theory and adjust from there. I didn't have a watch on me, but I knew that it took the better part of thirty minutes for me to even start to get the hang of it and then another thirty minutes to squeeze the cow dry. But as Rocky said, as soon as she was empty, the cow slowly trotted out of the barn while I emptied the pail.

I moved to the next cow, finding that it got easier with each one that I finished, but I tried not to think about the fact that there had to be at least fifty cows in that barn. By the time the first row was done, I could barely open and close my hands, they had become so sore. At the three-quarters point, my back ached, my knees were throbbing, and I was pretty sure I'd never drink milk again. I had thought I was in good shape. I might have slowed down in my trips to the gym, but I hadn't lost all my muscle. There was something about this work that left me with the realization that there were entire muscle groups that I had never used, and they were screaming now.

As the last cow trotted out of the barn, which I could no longer smell, I groaned, holding my sore hands out in front of me. I wasn't sure I had the energy to move; my body was aching too badly.

Warm laughter jerked my head up to see a man and woman walking into the barn. Both were smiling, which was an improvement over Rocky. They wore overalls as well, but they didn't look as worn or grumpy as my last companion. In fact, they both appeared to be in their early twenties with the fresh faces of health and youth.

"Nice job," the woman said, her arm around the man's back. "I knew you'd figure it out."

The man slid away from the woman and stood before me. "Here, I'll get that for you," he offered, bending over to grab the full pail I had yet to empty.

"No," I said sharply, wincing as I stood. My whole body protested the movement. "Thank you, but I can get it." I started to bend over and grab the handle, but the woman placed a restraining hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay. It won't count against you," she whispered. Her wide brown eyes were soft and sympathetic. I sighed and nodded, slowly straightening my body again. The man chuckled as he grabbed the pail and quickly tipped the contents into one of the containers at the end of the room.

When he rejoined us, he clapped me hard on the back, nearly knocking me forward. "Let's get you cleaned up. Some cold water will help relieve some of the pain in your hands."

Wordlessly, I followed him out to the front of the barn and over to an old water pump. He grabbed the handle and gave it a few hard pumps before water started pouring out. I dipped my hands into the ice-cold water and sighed in relief. The chill coursed through my body, seeming to wash away the aches. I rubbed the liquid up my arms and then splashed some on my face, instantly feeling refreshed.

"Is Rocky coming back for me?" I asked, shaking off the excess water.

"He's busy mucking out some stalls, so he sent us," the woman said. "It's nearly noon. I thought you'd like to grab some lunch and then help us in the orchard. That is, unless you'd rather help Rocky muck out the stalls?"

I couldn't stop from grimacing at the idea. I didn't know what might be worse, shoveling out horses.h.i.t or spending more quality time with Rocky. It definitely sounded worse than lunch and work in an orchard. Unfortunately, I didn't know which one would gain me more points with Gaia, though I had a feeling it was going to be horses.h.i.t and Rocky.

"Brook!" The man laughed, wrapping one arm around the woman's shoulders. He looked at me, smiling. Something about his expression made me think that he knew exactly what had been crossing my mind. "You have to excuse her. She's teasing you. Join us for lunch and then we'll be picking apples."

After milking the cows and the threat of mucking stalls, the idea of picking apples sounded frighteningly easy. Of course, so did lunch. I was wondering if I would have to cook it when the man laughed again. Yeah, he was definitely reading my thoughts.

"My name's Ox," he said, extending his hand toward me. I shook it, finding myself smiling as well. "And this rascal is Brook," he finished, indicating the woman pressed close to him.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Powell," Brook said with a little wave. "Let's grab lunch. I'm starving."

I walked with the pair back across the field in what I thought was the same direction I had come from with Rocky, but as we crested another hill I was faced with a quiet pond and a vast apple orchard instead of the red barn. We chatted about the nice weather, the peace and quiet of nature, and the random sightings of rabbits and b.u.t.terflies as we walked toward the pond. I had been tempted to question them about Gaia, as both seemed far more willing to talk than Rocky, but even as the questions formed in my brain, they drifted away again on the breeze.

At the edge of the pond was a large picnic basket with a folded blanket draped over it. While Ox and I set about spreading the blanket, Brook started unloading containers of food. We knelt beside her and set out cheese, b.u.t.ter, bread, ham, chicken, potato salad, coleslaw, pickles, olives, fruit, and three different kinds of pie. More food came out of the basket than I thought possible, but I was reaching the point where I stopped questioning things in this strange place.

I gratefully accepted the enormously mounded plate of food from Brook and offered to help fill hers. Oddly enough, I didn't even balk when Ox poured me a large gla.s.s of cold milk. We ate in companionable silence, soaking in the sounds of frogs and dragonflies around the pond. The food tasted as if it had all been made fresh that day and probably was. As we finished, we reclined on the blanket and talked about memories of growing up.

During a lull in the conversation, I thought about asking them about the farm and Gaia, but the question slipped away again and I laughed at a comment Ox made. There was something comfortable about the couple that left me feeling like I had known them my entire life. Relaxing in the shade of a large tree with a full stomach, I was content. Even the grumpy Rocky and his fifty dairy cows didn't seem so bad anymore. The work had been hard and backbreaking, but it was good, honest work that had filled me with a sense of accomplishment. I felt as if I fit into something larger that my mind couldn't quite define yet.

It wasn't much longer before Ox declared that it was time to get back to work. I helped them clean up and repack the picnic basket. Brook folded the blanket and placed it over the basket as if we had never touched it. I followed them into the orchard, where I found three wooden ladders and fifty large baskets.

To my surprise, Ox and Brook didn't leave me alone in the orchard, but each grabbed a ladder and a wicker basket before heading off to a tree. I did the same and picked a tree near them. The next few hours were filled with easy conversation and laughter as we placed ripe apples in our baskets. The work was steady and tiring, but the buzz of the bees and the scent of blossoms on the breeze seemed to keep the worst of the fatigue away.

As I filled the last basket, I stood on the ladder and looked across the rolling landscape. I knew that I was there with the sole purpose of seeing Gaia. I completed each task set before me with the idea that it was getting me closer to meeting her. But as I worked and the day wore on toward sunset, the urgency I felt melted away. I clearly remembered why I needed to see her-to save the elves, to save Trixie-but the emotional turbulence that accompanied that idea had dimmed. There was only the peace and splendor of the world living and thriving before me.

I climbed down the ladder and carried my full basket over to the others. Yet Ox and Brook were nowhere to be found. Instead, Rocky was standing near the baskets, holding my boots. While his expression and manner weren't as gruff as when we first met, he wasn't as cheery as my other companions.

Without a word, I pulled off the overalls and changed back into my boots, leaving the others next to the baskets. I followed Rocky back through the field and over the rise. As we reached the top, a large white farmhouse came into view. When we were a few feet from the worn, wooden, front-porch steps, the screen door creaked open and a lovely woman in a soft white skirt stepped out. Rocky stopped at the bottom of the steps and clapped me on the back. I looked over at him to find that he was smiling at me. Somehow I had earned the man's approval.

"Thank you, Rocky," the woman said, sending the most amazing feeling through me. In that split second, I felt warmth, and peace, and the most overwhelming longing for home. When I gazed up at her, she extended her hand toward me. "h.e.l.lo, Gage. I'm Skye. We have one last thing for you to do."

Taking her hand, I let her lead me past a living room filled with comfortable furniture and walls covered with framed photographs of smiling people. She took me up the creaking steps and down the hall. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled and squeezed my hand before pushing open the white door to reveal a nursery.

I took in the pale blue walls, the white lace curtains that danced in the breeze skipping through the open window, and the little dresser covered in stuffed animals. She led me over to an old-fashioned crank swing that held a baby in a blue outfit. Pale blond hair curled from his head and he watched me with wide blue eyes as he tightly held a soft rattle.

Skye released my hand and bent down to pick up the baby. She cooed at him as she settled him in her arms, but he continued to watch me the entire time. She pressed a kiss to his head and then handed him to me. I was awkward with the infant, as I couldn't remember the last time I had held one, but Skye remained close. She helped comfortably position the boy in my arms until I felt as if I had done it a hundred times before.

With one arm across my back and the other cupping the back of the baby's head, Skye leaned close. "This is your last task," she said in a near whisper. "You have to put him down for a nap."

"That's it?" I whispered, arching one eyebrow at her.

Skye smiled and nodded at me. She pressed one last kiss to the side of the baby's head and then leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. "You'll be great, I know it," she murmured before releasing us both.

I turned as she reached the door, holding the little boy against my chest. "What's his name?"

She leaned her head against the edge of the door, her green-gray eyes twinkling at me. "What do you think it should be?"

I looked down at the little boy and his bright blue eyes. He had one fist in his mouth as he sucked on it thoughtfully. "Squall," I said before looking up at her.

Her smile grew a little wider. "Good choice." And then she left us alone, gently closing the door behind her.

A little tremor of fear slipped through me as I stood alone in the middle of the room with the little boy. I wasn't sure if I had ever held a baby and I knew I had never tried to put one down for a nap. While I was grateful that the little guy wasn't screaming his head off the moment Skye disappeared, I still didn't know what to do to get him to sleep.

Turning around, I spotted a large white rocking chair in one corner near the crib. My mom had kept one in my sister's room when she had been a baby. She said that it had been handed down over a few generations and that she used to rock us to sleep when we were fussy.

Sitting on the thick cushion, I settled the little guy against my shoulder while I rubbed my hand over his tiny back in a slow, circular motion. He shifted and drew in a deep breath, pressing his little chest against mine before he wrapped one arm around my neck and put his head on my shoulder. Slowly rocking the chair, I hummed a nameless tune that had no beginning and no end. I didn't know the song. I kept humming as his breathing evened out.

It had only taken him a few minutes to doze off, but still I rocked him, humming what I was sure was a lullaby. I turned my head toward him and the soft scent of soap and baby powder hit my nose. But there was more there, something I didn't have a word for. It wasn't so much a smell, but something from that tiny body that drove down into my chest, as if it were mending things broken there. All the weight that had rested on my shoulders slipped off to be replaced by this little head. The aches in my back, hands, and knees dissolved with the sound of his breathing. The pound of his heart against my chest soothed so many echoes of pains from my past.

Reluctantly, I stood and turned toward his white-and-blue crib. Closing my eyes, I pressed a kiss to his temple before I laid him on his stomach on the mattress. I continued to rub my hand on his back while he shifted once and yawned before settling into a deep sleep. My fingers drifted up to thread through his soft blond curls, reminding me of how I looked in my own baby pictures taken a lifetime ago.

A gentle hand moved across my back in the same motion that I had been using on Squall, helping to ease an ache that had grown and letting the peace seep back in, so it no longer hurt to breathe. I looked over to find a little old woman standing beside me, her snowy-white hair pulled up into a loose bun on the top of her head. She looked up at me with fathomless green-gray eyes and smiled.

"I knew you could do it, my boy," she said in a low voice that seemed to hold me in an embrace that nearly brought tears to my eyes. "You've done wonderfully, but then you understand this so much better than those who tried to teach you."

"Understand what?" I asked in a wavering voice.

She reached down and took my hand in her old one. She held it out so that my open palm hovered over Squall's sleeping form. "Life. Nature. The ebb and flow of all things."