Remedy Maker (50 page)

So intent on Dendron’s words and ritual, Rhycious nearly missed catching Patience as she swayed on her feet. Her hand tugged his arm as she leaned away. With an open mouth, her chest rose and fell with every huge gasps she took.

Alarm hit like a block of ice in his core, the chill went right through him. He quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and touched the back of his hand to her cool cheeks. Perspiration popped over her forehead, her eyelids drooping.

“Patience?” His pulse racing, Rhycious fought to keep the terror out of his voice. “How do you feel?” He brushed damp tendrils off her face, studying her closely.

Chants of Dendron speaking the ancient Nymph language droned on, words Rhycious didn’t understand.

“I’m hot inside.” Her tongue sounded thick and dry. “I feel like I’m floating and . . . my heart is all crazy. Why?”

He pushed two fingers against her throat, her pulse slowing at an alarming rate. Weak and unsteady, the thread of a beat scarcely felt.

“Dendron.” Rhy turned to the older man who continued to chant, holding the potted sycamore between his upraised hands. The Nymph priest flicked his gaze at Patience, then returned his meditative stare to the sapling, never breaking the chant or stopping for longer than a breath of air.

Between the evoker’s spiritual hands, the ceramic container glowed a faint bluish-white—the hue of his shimmer. The light became strong and intense.

 Dendron chanted louder. Air around them became charged with energy. Molecules swirled and crackled, charging static electricity to bounce from person to person, giving tiny shocks to each. It raised the gray hair on Dendron’s head and frizzed out Khristos’s beard.

With a small moan, Patience’s legs buckled.

Rhycious eased her down carefully, his nerves jumpier than any mental flare-up. He sat on the floor with her reclined between his legs and hauled her against his chest. There he held her, rocking gently, strumming his fingers through her sweat-dampened hair.

“Is the transfer nearly complete?” With every beat, Rhy’s heart walked up his throat. Her moaning grew fainter. “Dendron!”

“Steady the planter and wrap her hands around the tree’s stalk.” Dendron handed the pot down to him. The container was hot to the touch, and a faint glow of watery blue hovered around the young plant. “Patience must consummate her soul with that of the seedling’s as it reaches out for her.”

Rhycious set the weight of Patience’s body upon the floor and did as instructed, kneeling above her. She seemed to be unconscious but when the bottom of the planter touched her stomach, she jerked in response, as if a great bolt of electricity shot through her.

Never far from the edge of his mind, fear poked its sharp talons into his strength. It dipped its claws repeatedly, shredding his confidence in what they were doing. He steadied the plant on her panting stomach with one hand. Ice cold and stiff, he squeezed her fingers around the healthy green stalk.

Oh gods, I’m too late . . . .

The skin on her other hand felt warmer to the touch and eased his mind a fraction. After he got her hands around the tree, Rhy covered them with his own, and prayed.

Khristos prayed aloud, standing in supplication to the gods at her feet. Dendron continued chanting quietly. The last of the precious mixture of blood and water slipped off the browning leaf, and poured into the soil.

Numbing shock froze his heart, his gaze unable to tear away. The bluish hue surrounding Patience’s new tree slowly dimmed . . . .

*    *    *

Failed.

He
fucking
killed his wife of one hour.

Agony stabbed good and hard, and he deserved every moment of pain. Her slight body lay on the floor, unmoving. He willed her lungs to keep breathing, her chest to fill with air. As with all good things associated with him, Rhycious failed to keep them around.

Her breath became shallow.

My wife
.

He didn’t stop the tears filling his eyes and spilling down his face. Didn’t move to brush them away. He let them fall, to splash on his arm and wet Patience’s face.

Oh gods, what have I done?

Inside his mind came the shattering, a stinging torment that was eating him alive. Kneeling, Rhycious moved the little tree off to the side and gathered her body up. He held her cooling body tight. Great bolts of wrenching denial seethed within him, and he shook his head furiously to beat the truth back.

“No! You will
not
leave me.” He pressed his lips to her unheated cheek. “Please, Patience. Come back to me.”

Rhycious dug deep into the part of himself he always kept locked away. He pushed aside the centuries of self-doubt and recriminations. At the center of his once darkened soul, he found a source of light.

Patience.

Grit and determination grabbed hold of the glow and refused to give it up. With her love and essence planted firmly in his mind, he crushed his lips to her cold ones, commanding through his kiss that she respond to him. He tunneled his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head.

His tears fell on her face, and still he kissed her.

How barren his life would be without Patience to liven things up. Never had he wanted someone to invade his space as much as he wanted her. He thought of her things in his dresser, his clothes on her body. Her life entwined with his . . . forever.

Her lips twitched, responded.

Under his palms, her body grew hot. The acute change startled him and he broke off the kiss.

Something akin to the rising of the morning sun spread over Patience. A hint of color chased the sick pallor from her skin, replacing her body’s cells with a creamy rose blush. Frail and weak evicted, giving way to grounded and solid.

He felt his mouth go lax when her hair, once a pretty, dusky brown, transformed into a delicious dark chocolate, vibrant and shiny.

Rhy lifted a hand to touch her face. A cheek that moments before lay cold and still beneath his palm, felt warm to his touch. She took a deep breath of renewed health as life flooded in.

“Patience, sweetheart.” Acting on impulse, and because he simply couldn’t wait a moment longer, he gently brushed his lips over hers.

Her eyelids fluttered, and then opened to gaze up at him with a sexy, sleepy look. Twin orbs of opulent polished turquoise met his hungry stare. Bright and alert, the hints of yellowish tint were gone.

“Hey, stud muffin. What’s with the
worry-eyes
?” Patience smirked.

Rhycious could barely push the words past his clogged throat. “Oh, babe . . . .”

Thirty-Eight

“Over in the empty space, that’s where it should go.” Outside the bedroom window, a beautiful spot beckoned. “It’s a
perf and fect
site.” The sun had set, but plenty of evening light remained.

In the weeks following their marriage, Rhycious finally learned how to chill. He was mentally healthy and strong. A much sought after doctor.

Slightly arrogant. Incredibly loving. Irresistible, and impossible to live with.

He turned away from the window and dodged the nightstand with his tail. Moving closer, he reached for her hand and stroked his thumb across her palm, his warm chocolate eyes melting her heart.

Patience smiled at him.

They’d been adjusting to living together, moving her things in, and discussing plans for the future. Every now and then, a friend would stop by on the pretense of seeing how it was going. She knew it was more to check on their relationship. After all, Centaur and Wood Nymph was headline material in the Boronda Forest. The Festival of the Trees was yesterday’s news.

“You picked a fine location,” Rhy observed. “And as soon as I get my feet under me, I’ll help you plant your tree. Meanwhile, I can gather the stakes and ties, and figure out where I left the damn shovel.”

Her tree.

Planted at Rhy's cabin, now their home.

The sycamore would be safe and protected on land he owned, never in danger of logging or poisoned from noxious run-off. As someone who’d never owned property in the conventional sense, she had trouble coming to terms with anything that resembled a
human
tradition.

Thank Bacchus’s hooves Rhycious was amazingly knowledgeable with the world. Banks, insurance, and something called a credit card. She felt ignorant, but he shared his expertise of all he had learned.

And he shared many, many things.

She walked out of the room ahead of him, her fingers clasped in his. “Are you
surefire
about my playing nurse? What if your patients don’t crush on me?” Not everyone viewed their relationship with an open mind. Prejudice continued to reign and negative talk from all races flowed faster than the river in spring.

Rhy glanced at her. “I need your help,
polytima
. The thought of an assistant, someone I don’t know in our home, around you, I get all bent out of shape.”

“Whatever you say, doctor.”

“Hey, I like that.” He swooped in and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. “You want to ride the pony later?” His hind-end waggled like an excited colt.

While she giggled, a four-step beat accompanied by the jangle of harness leather approached the front yard. Rhycious cursed and glanced at his watch.

“‘Scuse me,” she reprimanded. “But he
is
your friend. And if it weren’t for Samuel—”

“I wouldn’t be able to do this.” His hands slid down her back and curved over her ass. Her mock protest was lost, buried beneath his mouth, his lips smothering her words.

Heat infused her body as if he’d activated it on demand.

After his kiss, Rhy opened the front door a crack and surveyed the area before stepping onto the porch.

“
Guten abend
, Rhycious. I come bearing gifts for the newlyweds.” Samuel tied off the reins and stepped down from his buggy, carrying a covered basket. “For the missus.”

Patience accepted the gift and gave Samuel a welcoming hug. Sweet scents of honey and molasses drifted from beneath the checkered cloth cover, making her mouth water. “Thank you, it smells
delicktable
.”

“Home baked goods, compliments of my sisters.” Sam shot Rhy a glance. “I think the hunters left. I haven’t seen any in town or around my farm.”

Rhycious nodded. “Gone for now, but they’ll be back.” He hugged Patience, his need to protect his mate stronger than ever. “Meanwhile, we have a tree to plant.”

“The home of my Wood Nymph soul,” she explained, noting Samuel’s quizzical expression.

Walking up the porch stairs, Samuel seemed pleased for them, eyeing her and Rhy with happiness. “You have a fine woman, Rhycious. And finally, you’ve found peace in your life.”

Rhy opened the door for her. “It’s that obvious?”

“I swear, twenty years—or one hundred, in your case—is erased from your face. But it’s deeper than that, my friend. Your days of piffle and
ruch
are over. Now you can live as you deserve.” Samuel removed his flat hat upon entering the cabin and shook Rhy’s hand. “Love conquers all.”

Patience placed the basket of molasses, cookies, and oatcakes on the kitchen table, listening to her husband laugh while Samuel griped about his sisters and their meddling ways. He described the girls plotting to set him up with available Amish women, to which he didn’t feel ready.

“I have someone in mind,” Sam said. “I don’t need their help.”

“Anyone I know?” Rhy asked.

Samuel blushed, and he nervously rotated the hat in his hands. “Perhaps. If anything comes of it, I’ll let you know.”

Rhycious clip-clopped closer and took Patience’s hand. He pressed a kiss to the back, then held it over his heart. “I never thought love would come my way, Sam. I truly wish this for you.”

“My time will come when God feels I’m ready.”

As they escorted Samuel to the front door and thanked him for the gift, Patience stared at her husband’s hand in hers. An absurd urge to cry overcame her.

“
Polytima?”
Rhy asked softly. “You all right?”

She nodded, mind-boggled that he read her so easily. “
Absodoodly
.” She smiled at him, mesmerized by the happiness she read in his eyes. “Do you know that before we met, I’d given up hope for any days past tomorrow?”

“You did?” Holding her hand, Rhycious followed Samuel across the porch and down the stairs.

Patience’s throat tightened, passions of love clogging her up. “I have so much to
luff
over. You’ve gifted me a whole future, an adventure of a lifetime to explore. Sometimes it’s hard to fathom. I have so much time now, I don’t know what to do first.”

“How interesting, I feel the same way—if I understood you right.” Rhycious cupped her face in his hands and softly kissed her cheek. “That’s why I kiss you so much,
agape mou.”

She wrapped her arms around his incredibly wide shoulders and nuzzled his lips with hers.

“
Scheissdreck
,” Samuel said, rolling his eyes. “At least wait until I leave.”

Bert stomped his hoof and nickered, tossing his harnessed head.

Rhy sent Patience a wink, flipped back his loose hair, and went to touch noses with Bert.

How beautiful and serene he and Sam’s horse seemed to be. Eyes closed, foreheads touching, the two of equine descent communed. Rhy stepped back with a swish of his tail and returned to Patience’s side, sliding an arm around her.

“Bert appreciated the bucket of warmed oats last night.” The bay horse tossed his head and nickered again. Rhycious let out a laugh. “And he’d appreciate the kindness every night.”

Samuel climbed up into the buggy and picked up the reins. “He’s a good boy. A bit pushy, perhaps.” A cluck to Bert and the buggy pulled away, into the darkened evening.

Patience kept her arm wrapped tightly around Rhy’s waist while he guided them back into the house, shutting the door on the cool night air.

She toyed with a button on his shirt. “Gimme a playback on what Sam said about the hunters.”