Page 11

It wasn’t quite cold enough to snow, so the heavens gave me a musical rain soft enough to be a lullaby.

I sat at the desk in my modest study, made cozy by a small fire and two Border collies curled up together.

The pitter patter of rain, my dogs’ snoring, and the tedium of the work at hand were lulling me to sleep.

The pull of napping became strong enough to be a sleep spell cast by the ”Sandman”, Maxfield Pteron, himself.

In fact, I might’ve been dozing because I woke to a knock on my door with my chin trying to rest on my chest.

As I pulled up straight, I saw that the dogs had already sprung to action and raced to see who it might be.

No barking meant the person at the door was okay with the pups.

Nothing to fear. I peeked between the large slats of the window’s shutters.

Still cloudy, but no longer raining. Sure enough.

Lochlan was at the front door. My view revealed his upper half, but it was apparent he was standing straight as a sentry. Face forward. Waiting.

As I neared the front door, I knew Lochlan had brought his dogs because my pups were voicing the special whine reserved for their parents.

As soon as I opened the door, Fen and Frey bounded onto the porch, wiggling in the most undignified way, delivering sloppy kisses to Angus and Aisling, who tolerated the onslaught with their own more mature demonstration of affection.

“Come in,” I told Lochlan. The four dogs ran past us, through the house, and out the dog door in the mudroom. “I’ll make tea. But tell me. Is this business or neighborly drop by?”

“Neighborly drop by?” He didn’t sound too sure about the option, but at least I knew it wasn’t business.

As I made tea, we talked about the rounds of gossip that graced the last Legendary Lunch. If I’d learned anything during my year on the bench, it was that fae love gossip.

When my new kettle whistled, I set it off the burner and pulled muffins from the AGA warming compartment. When the dogs smelled the muffins, they came running back inside. Just in case a crumb or two should fall before making it to the bipeds’ mouths.

Lochlan chuckled. “Seems the hounds are fond of Olivia’s baking.”

“I’m sure the same could be said of all creatures who eat.”

“Indeed. What do we have today?”

“Poppyseed.”

“Oh my!” It was an evocative response for Lochlan. Perhaps it wasn’t just Evie. And Lochlan. Perhaps most fae have a thing for poppyseed. He reached for one before I was able to set the plate on the table and confirmed my suspicion forthwith. “A fae favorite to be sure.”

“Yeah.” I laughed. “I like them, too. A lot.”

I fixed my tea just the way I like it, then following suit, I took a bite and instantly forgot that anything existed in the universe other than the symphony of flavors in my mouth. Tea and poppyseed muffin. What could be better?

“Hmm. Hmm. Hmm,” I said.

All four dogs whimpered like I was deliberately torturing them. When I made the mistake of looking their way, I caved to the sucker side of being a mistress of dogs. Their eyes were so big and intense and needy, I just couldn’t continue enjoying myself without sharing in some way.

I got up and went to the AGA compartment where some of Keir’s stash of cooked bacon stayed warm throughout the day. I told myself he’d never notice just a scant four pieces missing.

I gave each dog a piece of bacon, which disappeared like magic. Two seconds later, the whining resumed.

“Oh no,” I scolded. “You can’t make me think I didn’t give you bacon already. I did! So, whine all you want. I’m having my muffin guilt-free.”

They continued pleading for half a minute, then settled down on the floor together like they’d received my message.

“Your pups are nearing fraighound ability.”

With an unabashed mouth full of muffin, I said, “What do you mean?”

He looked at me like what he’d said couldn’t have been better stated. “It’s like a form of fae puberty. They’re going to begin learning to transform.”

I put my muffin down. “Oh.” I couldn’t begin to say why I’d never thought about my beautiful Border Collie pups turning into large magical beasts with rough coats like Irish wolfhounds.

It wasn’t just looks either. I’d seen Angus and Aisling in fraighound form.

No one wants to be on the wrong side of that argument. “What,” um, “should I expect?”

“Ah. Well. In the beginning, their bodies might make a partial… and odd change.”

“For instance?”

“You might see your pup with just the tail of a fraighound? Or the ears?” He laughed softly. “It can be quite amusing.”

“Amusing?” I repeated. “It doesn’t sound amusing. It sounds horrifying.”

“I suppose it could be from a human perspective. But look at it this way. When your dogs’ adaptation is complete, you’re going to be the safest human alive.”

“Living in a house with a sephalian and two fraighounds, you mean?”

“Exactly right.”

“I know what you’re saying. But during my time as magistrate, I’ve seen some pretty scary stuff.”

“Indeed. Nothing the enforcer couldn’t handle though.”

“That is true,” I said, while remembering the Norse god Tyr and his horse taking flight and coming straight for my face.

Even though Keir’s lunge into the air didn’t make contact with Tyr, my hubby would’ve knocked him off course so that contact with the teeth my mother paid to straighten remained intact.

“Is there anything I should do or not do to help them through their, um, transition?”

“Hmm,” he said while happily chewing a second muffin. “I know I said it can be amusing, but don’t laugh at them. They’re sensitive, and it’s embarrassing to be temporarily trapped mid-shift.”

“I can see that. Of course I won’t.” I made a mental note to pass that along to Keir.

“That settled, I thought I should mention that there is a newer model of your auto available if you’d like to upgrade.”

My head jerked toward Lochlan so fast that he jumped a little. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aisling’s tail thump on the floor. So, my pups’ mum had a sense of humor.

“What do you mean?” I demanded, but when he opened his mouth to respond, I shook my head and, quick as Jack Robinson, I rose and closed my palm over his mouth to ensure silence. “Shhhh! He’ll hear you!”

I pulled Lochlan to his feet, grabbed the sleeve of his tweedy jacket at the elbow, and ushered him out the front door.

Lochlan looked over his shoulder. “Why exactly do I find myself suddenly standing on your porch? Is this what’s known as the ‘bum’s rush’? It’s an automobile, Magistrate. You must know it has no feelings. Or gender, I might add.”

With the absolute best of intentions, or so I choose to believe, Lochlan stopped by to ask if I’d like a new car. Based on the forced exit I provided, he was getting the idea that my answer was a hard no.

“This I know, Clerk. Comparing Romeo to many of magic kind’s species, he could be held up as an example of kindness, consideration, reliability, and loyalty.

Did you know he practically committed suicide trying to rescue me from a werewolf?

As it turned out, there was no danger. But I had no way of knowing that in the moment.

If not for my daughter, Romeo would’ve been in repair for a year! ”

Lochlan softened his tone. “Rita. If you honestly don’t know that automobiles cannot commit suicide, I shall be most concerned for your mental stability.”

“What do you know about it?” I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t even own a car. Much less one like Romeo. How could you possibly suggest something as callous and soulless as trading him in?”

Undeterred by the soulless comment, Lochlan continued without missing a beat. “Well, I happened to see an ad for new models on the same day I’d noticed room in the budget for magistrate benefits.”

I blinked twice as I experienced the mental slide into “sidetracked”. “There’s a budget for benefits? Why am I just now hearing about this?”

“Perhaps partly because your daughter, the Irish Queen, has practically limitless power to give you anything. Still, I like to think of myself as your benefactor as much as your solicitor. When I see an opportunity to be of service, I pride myself on not letting grass grow under my feet.”

My anger melted away instantly. “Well. Thank you. It was very nice of you to make the offer. But you see, I’ve… bonded with Romeo. I’d sooner trade Keir for one of his brothers. Wait. I didn’t mean that.” I shook my head. “Horrible analogy. And completely untrue. But you know what I mean.”

“No. I do not.”

I continued my rant without caring whether he knew what I meant or not. “And I know my daughter is Irish Queen. It doesn’t need to be spelled out every time you mention her name.” That was a little short and quibbly, but I was on a roll.

“Noted. Simply abiding by protocol, you understand.”

“I do understand. You’re hereby freed of the need to refer to protocol when speaking to me.”

“Thank you, I suppose.” He paused for a moment in thought.

“I believe I do know what you mean about having developed a liking for this particular automobile. I have a pencil sharpener I wouldn’t trade for the world.

But you must know you’ll get a new car at some point.

You won’t keep, ah, Romeo for the rest of your life. ”

“Why not?”

“Frankly, my dear, we don’t know how long you’ll live, but we do know your life expectancy has been increased significantly.

Magistrates typically live eight times longer than humans.

But you’re different because you’re also married to a fae creature.

We won’t know how that turns out until the turn is outed.

But certainly you will outlast anything mechanical. ”

“That’s a surprisingly faulty assumption, Clerk. If something goes wrong with Romeo, we’ll fix it. Like you said, my daughter can do anything. Including making my car good as new.”

I turned when Keir opened the front door and stepped onto the porch.

“You’re home!” I said, like it was a surprise.

“I am. What’s going on out here?” he asked.

“I was…” Lochlan began.

“Shhhh,” I said, motioning for Keir to come closer. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I told Lochlan, “Not so loud.” I turned to Keir and said in a hushed tone, “He came by to see if I might want to trade Romeo in on a newer model.”

Keir drew back and looked at Lochlan like he’d gone mad. That quickly changed to what I read on Keir’s face as sympathy. Right on. He knew me far better than Lochlan did. Shaking his head while chuckling, the love of my life wisely turned and went back into the house without another word.

“Anyway,” I was beginning to calm, “again, thank you for the thought. Let that be the end of that.”

“Very well.” Lochlan sniffed.

“Was there… something else?” I asked.

“Ah, yes. As a matter of fact. Ivy said to mention that Lily has an overabundance of decorative greenery. If you’re, ah, planning on doing the place up for Yule.”

“Oh good,” I said cheerfully, glad for the change of subject. “I’ll ask Keir to trot over and claim some. Of course, I’m decorating. You know I love Yule. And the shop could use a festive wrapping as well.”

“Indeed.” The ghost of a smile on Lochlan’s perpetually passive face told me the cheer I’d beaten away was returning, albeit slowly.

“Don’t tell Keir I said the thing about him ‘trotting over’. It sounds a little unmanly.”

“Keir is not a man.”

“Don’t be dense, Clerk. You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I will make an effort not to be, ah, dense. Have you settled on the cases you’re taking at Yule Court?”

“Mostly. I could be prepared for a docket conference tomorrow. Afternoon?”

Lochlan looked at his watch like it was his calendar. “Very well. Tomorrow at two.”

“You know perfectly well that’s my nap time. One o’clock.”

“One it is.”

As Lochlan turned to go, I caught his sleeve and stopped him. “Lochlan. Please forgive me for my rudeness earlier. I know your heart is always in the right place. Thank you again for the very nice offer. You’re the best benefactor ever.”

“Indeed. I probably am. And you are welcome, my dear. Even though I know firsthand your experience with benefactors is limited to myself, which means you are quite unqualified to make comparisons.”

Choosing to ignore the central message of his thought, I said, “It’s entirely improper to address the magistrate as your dear . Doesn’t it violate some kind of protocol?”

He chuckled, both of us knowing he would continue to call me that. I smiled in return because I liked having my clerk’s affection, and I suspected he knew that.

“Forgot so quickly? Thanks to you, I’m free of the need to observe protocol. See you in the lane.”

I nodded, both smile and good humor restored.

“See you in the lane” was the shorthand Lochlan and I used to mean we’d meet in the early morning for a hilltop walk with the dogs.

I can’t help but feel bad for everybody who isn’t privileged to begin their day on a panoramic hike with Lochlan Jois and the fab four magical hounds.

As I turned to go inside, I vowed to remember to begin my journal notes with a sentence or two about my extraordinary good fortune. Forward progress came to a halt as I was suddenly distracted by what changes I might make to my front door decorations.

I love Yule.