Faerie Tale. Raymond E. Feist

with mock challenge in her tone.

      Phil sighed. ‘Defeated before I begin.’ He read aloud, ‘ “Mrs Agatha Grant invites Mr Philip Hastings and family to dinner, Sunday 24 June. Cocktails at 5 p.m. Regrets only.”’

      ‘What does that mean?’

      ‘It means RSVP only if you can’t come, you California barbarian.’

      Gloria playfully kicked her husband. ‘Barbarian! Who was it who called the town “La Jawl-lah” the first time he propositioned me?’

      ‘I did?’

      ‘You most certainly did. It was at Harv Moran’s house, at the wrap party for Bridesdale. You came sliding up to me while my date was over getting drinks – Robbie Tedesco, that was who I was with. You and I had just met at the studio the day before and you said, “I’ve got an invitation to spend the weekend at a friend’s beach house in La Jawl-lah. Do you think you could get away for a couple of days?”’ She spoke the lines with a deep voice, mimicking his speech patterns.

      Phil looked only mildly embarrassed. ‘I remember, I still can’t believe I did that. I had never asked a near stranger to spend the weekend with me before.’ Then he smiled. ‘Well, you did come with me.’

      Gloria laughed. ‘I did, didn’t I? I guess I just figured someone was going to grab up this eastern square and it might as well be me.’ She playfully grabbed a handful of his greying hair and pulled his head down, kissing him quickly. ‘And La Jolla was beautiful.’

      ‘So were you … as you still are,’ he said, kissing her deeply. He felt her respond. Playfully nipping at her neck, he whispered, ‘We haven’t pulled a nooner in years, kiddo.’

      Then the phone rang, and Gabbie shouted from upstairs, ‘I’ll get it!’

      Instantly they heard the sound of the screen door slamming as the boys tromped into the kitchen. ‘Maaa!’ shouted Patrick.

      ‘What’s for lunch?’ inquired Sean in counterpoint.

      Passion fled. Leaning against her husband, Gloria shook her head. ‘Such are the prices of parenthood.’ With a quick kiss, she said, ‘Hold that last thought for tonight, lover.’

      Gabbie came running partway down the stairs, holding the phone at the limit of the cord’s ability to stretch. ‘It’s Jack. He’s back. We’re going riding this afternoon, then getting a bite and a movie. So I won’t be home for dinner. Okay?’

      Phil said, ‘Sure,’ as the boys came marching in from the kitchen. Gabbie dashed back up the stairs.

      ‘Mom,’ said Patrick, ‘what’s for lunch?’

      ‘We’re hungry,’ agreed Sean.

      Gloria shrugged regretfully towards her husband. Putting her hands on her sons’ shoulders, she turned them around and said, ‘With me, troops.’ Suddenly she was gone, heading for the kitchen to feed her small brood. Phil could still smell her clean scent in the hall air and felt the deep stirrings that contact with her always brought quickly into existence. With a sigh of regret at the moment’s being gone, he returned to reading the mail as he walked back towards his study.

       • Chapter Seven •

      Gabbie stood in mute and pleasant surprise. At last she said, ‘All right!’ slowly drawing out the exclamation.

      Jack smiled as he motioned for her to come and take the reins of the bay mare he had led. It was a beautiful, well-cared-for animal. Gabby took the reins. ‘They’re terrific.’

      ‘Mr Laudermilch raises Thoroughbreds and warm-blood crosses. He’s a friend of Aggie’s and I’ve helped out around his farm, so he lets me borrow one every so often. He used to race Thoroughbreds, but now he’s into jumpers.’

      Gabbie admired the animals, noting the curve of the neck and the way the tail rose up, and the slightly forward-facing ears. ‘These have some Arabian in them,’ she declared, as she took the reins from Jack.

      Jack nodded with a grin. ‘And quarter horse. These don’t compete. They’re what Mr Laudermilch calls “riding-around stock”. Yours is called My Dandelion and this is John Adams.’

      She hugged the mare’s neck and patted it. ‘Hi, baby,’ she crooned. ‘We’re going to be buddies, aren’t we?’ She quickly mounted. Settling into the unusual position of the English saddle, she said, ‘God, this feels weird.’

      Jack said, ‘I’m sorry. I thought you rode English.’

      Gabbie shook her head as she spurred her mount forward. ‘Nope, cowgirl. I’ve ridden English before. It’s just been a long time.’ She waved at her foot. ‘Acme cowboy boots. I’ll pick up some proper breeches and high top boots in town. My knees will be a little bruised tomorrow, is all.’

      They rode out towards the woods, Gabbie letting Jack take the lead. ‘Watch out for low branches,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘These paths aren’t cleared like riding trails.’

      She nodded and studied his face as he turned back towards the path. She smiled to herself at the way his back moved as he reined his horse. Definitely a fox, she thought to herself, then wondered if there was a girlfriend back at the college.

      The trail widened and she moved up beside him, saying ‘These woods are pretty. I’m more used to the hills around the Valley.’

      ‘Valley?’

      ‘San Fernando Valley.’ She made a face. ‘Ya know, fer sher, like a Valley girl, totally tubular, man. I mean, like bitchin’, barf out, and all that shit.’ She looked irritated at the notion. ‘I grew up in Arizona. That image grosses me out.’ Suddenly she laughed at the slip and was joined by Jack. ‘LA’s just reclaimed desert. Turn off the garden hose and all the green goes away. It’s all chaparral – scrub, you know – on the hills north of the valley. Some stands of trees around streams. A lot of eucalyptus – nothing like these woods. It’s mostly hot and dry, and real dusty. But I’m used to it.’

      He smiled, and she decided she liked the way his mouth turned up. ‘I’ve never been west of the Mississippi, myself. Thought I’d get out to Los Angeles once a few years back, but I broke my leg sailing and that shot the whole summer.’

      ‘How’d you manage that?’

      ‘Fell off the boat and hit a patch of hard water.’

      For a moment she paused in consideration, for he had answered with a straight face, then she groaned. ‘You bullshitter. You’re as bad as my dad.’

      ‘I take that as a compliment,’ he answered with a grin. ‘Actually, some fool who thought he could sail put the boat around in a gybe without warning any of us, and I caught the boom and got knocked overboard. Smashed my leg all up. I spent the next day and a half with a paddle for a splint while we headed back to Tampa. Spent nine weeks in a cast, then six more in a walking cast. The surgeon was great, but my leg’s not a hundred per cent. When it gets cold, I limp a little. And I can’t run worth spit. So I walk a lot.’

      They rode in silence for a while, enjoying the warm spring day in the woods. Suddenly there was an awkward moment, as each waited for the other to speak. At last Jack said, ‘What are you studying?’

      Gabbie shrugged. ‘I haven’t decided. I’m only a few units into my sophomore year, really. I’m sort of hung up between psychology and lit.’

      ‘I don’t know much about psych.’ She looked at him quizzically. ‘I mean, what you would do when you graduated. But either means grad school if you want to use them.’

      She shrugged again. ‘Like I said, I’m barely a sophomore. I’ve got a while.’ She was quiet for a long time, then blurted, ‘What I’d like to do is write.’

      He