Page 17 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

Chapter thirteen

Eliana

Now that you have him, you must stay close to him. It is the only way.

“I know you’re not talking about the dog,” I mutter while I finish giving Tiny a bath. “What do y’all know that I don’t? You can’t tell the future, so why do I need to stick so close to him? I’m doing everything you said I should. I’m doing what Grams asked of me,” I tell the Spirits.

They all start talking simultaneously. I take a deep breath, letting them work it out among themselves while I go to the apothecary, and Tiny trots behind me.

Grabbing the peppermint, lavender, and licorice root, I scoop some out of each to make a container for Killian. Tiny stands guard by the front door to the apothecary and watches me as I move back and forth.

I’ll be ready to open back up in a couple days. I’ve mixed a few more salves and tea options to change it up. We’ve always tried to stick with what the season gives us, and sweet mint and peppermint are loving the weather. Since it went from sweltering down to hot.

“Is this about the murders?” I ask the Spirits.

They pause as if they’re considering my question.

We cannot answer.

“Since when?” I ask them.

There are things not yet known to us.

I groan into the ceiling and drain one of my tinctures, bottling it into small amber ones, adding a little dropper in each.

“I keep feeling like I’m missing something, and it’s starting to annoy me.”

Yes, well imagine how we feel since you keep demanding answers we cannot provide.

“Great, you don’t know either.”

After I finish up for the night, I change my bandage, and rub some salve on my wound. It’s healing up well. Exhaustion weighs heavy, and the wind gusts hard, rattling the house. Something falls outside, making me jump. I glance at Tiny, and he’s staring at me, but he’s also at attention.

“Should we go check, Tiny?”

He makes a sound, and I take that as a yes. This time, grabbing my shotgun and flashlight, I put on my boots and follow him outside into the night.

Tiny dashes into the garden, and it’s so dark it’s hard to tell what direction he went. Using all my senses, I carefully walk through the garden until his stark white body catches my attention. He’s sniffing something.

Pulling my flashlight from my pocket, I shine it down where he was sniffing, and sure enough, there are boot prints.

They look almost identical to the ones I saw the other day.

I spin around, shining the flashlight around the property, wondering if I’ll catch him.

A combination of anger and fear floods my veins. I’m getting tired of feeling like prey.

Tiny stays close to my side as I check the animals and go back inside.

He is coming for you, the Spirits say.

“Gee, thanks for the reminder. I’m not creeped out enough as it is.”

Killian can protect you.

“I mean, yeah, have you seen him? Oh, well — yes, he could, but that’s not his job, and I thought you told me I was there to help him.”

Can two things not be done at once, child?

“Y’all are getting catty,” I mutter.

I triple-check all the doors and windows in the house, and crawl into bed. Tiny curls up on the blankets I folded up for him next to me, and closes his eyes. It helps me feel better that he’s here. I think Tiny sensed something from me when Killian came up over the hill.

My heart nearly stopped at the sight of him. Not that I’m going to do anything with those feelings, but I might have forgotten my own name for a second.

Things are about to change. You must be prepared to do whatever it takes to see this through.

A knock at the front door echoes through the house, and I take another sip of my coffee. Tiny runs to the door wagging his tail, as if he knows it’s Killian. I peek through the window to check, and flip the deadbolt.

He stands there with a cowboy hat on his head, a snap-button shirt tucked in showing off his belt buckle, and boots that have seen better days. My mouth goes dry, and a warm ache settles in my bones.

“Mornin’, you ready?” he asks gruffly, and I can feel his eyes trail over my old overalls and tank top beneath. It’s cool this morning, but that will change quickly with the sun.

“Yours or mine first?” I ask him.

He lifts a shoulder, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’m already here, so yours first.”

“Yeah, sure,” I rasp, stepping to the side to let him in.

It’s quiet, and I don’t have many neighbors. Other ranch hands are probably already at work, and everyone else likely isn’t up yet.

But before he comes in, he he checks his surroundings and then steps through the door.

The ache turns into a burning feeling.

Was he looking around to see if anyone saw him coming into my home?

I slam the door harder than necessary.

Taking another sip of lukewarm coffee, it burns despite the temperature, and I can hear Grams in the back of my mind saying to keep my mouth shut, but I’ve never been good at it, especially to people that have no consideration for others.

“What? Afraid someone will see you coming into the witch’s house?” I snap.

Killian takes off his hat and threads his fingers through his ear-length hair. “What?” he asks me.

“Before you came into my house you looked around, like you were checking to see if anyone was looking.”

“So?” he says.

Is this man a brick wall?

“Soooo, are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” I ask him.

The corner of his mouth tips up. “No, Eliana, I’m not afraid to be seen with you. I don’t care what people think. And I sure as hell don’t care if someone sees us together.”

My hand shakes, and I take another sip of coffee. He’s not like the others.

He is a good man, and you should stop acting like this, child.

“Can you please butt out for like one second,” I mutter under my breath.

“What?” Killian says.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” I ask him.

“Yeah, sure, but we need to get to work.”

“We will, but I need my coffee.”

He sighs and sets his hat on the table. “Yes, ma’am.”

After I pour him a cup of coffee and make us some eggs and bacon, we get to work in the barn.

Killian helps me muck out the stalls. We get the goats out back in their paddock, then he exercises Winnie, my horse, while I milk Gertrude, the cow.

When we’re done, I have fresh milk, clean stalls, and it’s not quite noon.

“Wow, this usually takes me more than half the day,” I tell him, holding my hips.

He lifts his hat, shifting it on his head. “What’s next?” he asks.

“Well, a lot, but today I think that we can make sure everything is watered. Then I’ll show you how to harvest a few things so I can get them hung to dry.”

He follows me to the garden. I smile at everything growing and changing. The warm breeze kicks through, and I take a deep breath, smelling mint, lemon balm, lavender, and flowers. Tiny comes up to my side, and I pat his head.

Killian walks over to my flower bed and drags his finger over the petals. “What do you do with these?” he asks.

I meet him by the bed and smell the marigolds growing large and full in orange and yellow. “Oh nothing. They’re a passion project of mine. I’ve always wanted to sell fresh flowers out front, but it takes a while to establish a garden with the purpose of cut flowers.”

“Looks like they’re plenty established to me,” he says, reaching for the flower again.

“They are,” I sigh.

“Then why don’t you sell them?” he asks.

I hum and reach for a rose with thick, sharp thorns down the stem. I’ve always loved something about roses. Maybe it’s because they’re devastatingly beautiful and can draw blood. Almost like a reminder not to believe everything you see.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

Killian doesn’t respond, and I find him staring at me.

My cheeks flush, and I look away.

“You should. They’re pretty,” he says.

I purse my lips and let go of the rose. What I don’t say is, I’m afraid no one will buy them.

“Anyway, let’s take care of this harvest and then head over to yours.”

He nods and follows me to the garden shears, and I grab us each a pair, with a basket for the herbs.

“Hold the mint here and check to see if there’s anything budding. Cut right above that. If anything seems to be seeding out, nip the tops and toss them. I’m trying to keep this section from seeding out before I’m ready for it.”

I spot a stem of mint where a bunch of baby leaves are beginning to grow. “See right—” My voice catches in my throat as our fingers brush, reaching for the same stem. My chest thuds. I don’t pull away like before, and neither does he.

“Like this one?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, oddly breathless.

“I can do that,” he says and stands up straight.

Brushing my hands over my overalls, I hand him the shears. “You do this row and I’ll do the other.”

He nods and starts at the other end. I find myself constantly peeking at him from under the brim of my hat as he carefully inspects each stem of mint to make sure he doesn’t cut something he shouldn’t.

I smile to myself, and my heart tears a little. Grams would have liked Killian. He might be stern and grumpy all the time, but I can feel his heart. It’s pure. You don’t meet many people like that these days.

Maybe you should show him yours.

“Y’all need to chill out,” I mutter and glance up at Killian. He’s looking at me with a question in his eyes, but goes back to his snipping.

You should tell him we are here.

“I would love not to scare one person who isn’t Grams, away.”

He will understand.

I laugh and try to swallow so I don’t weird Killian out anymore than I already have. “I highly doubt that.”

Do not underestimate him. He knows you better than he understands.

I roll my eyes and snip, moving a little faster than Killian because I’ve been doing this since I could hold a pair of scissors in my tiny hands. “It’s not like he’s going to save the world,” I whisper quietly.

No, he is not capable of that job. That plan was written long before. But together, you are capable of righting a wrong from long ago. You both will usher in new life.

Life.

Life.

Life.

They whisper life like I’m in an echo chamber, and I glance at Killian again as he bends over the mint, snipping and collecting.

My heart pounds erratically. Their words are true, and to a certain extent, they always have been, but that’s not what scares me.

I can sense the change in the winds as I watch this mountain of a man help me in my garden.

There is a much larger story at play, and we’re only at the surface.

Our lives are about to change forever, and nothing but heartache is ahead of us.