“Cooper,” he said. “It’s me, Owen. Put down the poker, okay?”
Cooper blinked and slowly lowered his weapon. “Owen?”
He nodded and smiled at his mentor.
The dwarf frowned, then looked over his shoulder at me. “Then who is that?”
I just wheezed and leaned against the broken sculpture.
21
Owen introduced me to Cooper. It took some convincing, but eventually the dwarf put his poker on the ground and clapped me on the back, almost knocking me over with his great strength.
“Sorry about the confusion, missy,” Cooper said in his loud, rumbling voice. “But you can’t be too careful these days, even up here in the mountains. These are troubled times, you know. Troubled times.”
I thought about all the hoodlums who’d tried to kill me in the last few months and all the others who would keep coming after me. I grimaced. I could tell Cooper a thing or two about troubled times.
“Especially since someone keeps stealing my fountains!”
“Fountains?” I asked. “You make fountains?”
The dwarf nodded. “Not as often as I do sculptures, but I got a commission a few months ago for them. Some guy named Henley wanted seven of them for his gardens, but the guy never showed up with the money.”
I frowned. Something about the name Henley seemed familiar to me, like I’d seen or heard it somewhere recently. I concentrated, but the memory just wouldn’t come to me.
“So I just planted them out in the woods, figuring I’d get rid of them sooner or later,” Cooper said. “But one by one, someone’s been stealing them. There’s only one left now, which was why I was out hiding in the trees, trying to catch the thief. I saw you come out here and thought you might be the person whose backside I need to kick.”
“Sorry,” I murmured. “Not much use for fountains in my line of work.”
Once he decided I wasn’t a threat to him or his remaining fountain, Cooper moved over to Owen and Kincaid. He clapped Owen heartily on the back and did the same to Kincaid. Then he put his arms around the two of them in a bear hug and lifted them both up off the ground, letting out a loud roar that made Owen smile and Kincaid laugh.
“It’s good to see my boys together again,” Cooper said when he finally put them back down.
They didn’t say anything, but Owen and Kincaid looked at each other over the top of his head.
Cooper led us back to the house and directed us to some chairs on the patio while he went inside and rustled up something for us to drink. A few minutes later, he came back with a tall pitcher of lemonade and several mismatched cups, some of which were actually repurposed jelly jars.
“It’s a bit warm,” he apologized, setting everything down on the metal table in the middle of the chairs. “I’m afraid I forgot to fill up the ice cube trays the last time I emptied them. I always forget that.”
Kincaid chuckled. “And everything else that involves housework. All you care about is your forge and your latest masterpiece.”
The dwarf shrugged, but there was a good-natured smile on his face.
“Let me help with that,” I said.
I leaned forward, wrapped my hand around the pitcher, and reached for my magic. A silver light flickered on my palm, and elemental Ice crystals spread out from my hand, ran up the pitcher, and then down into the lemonade below. A second later, the entire pitcher was cold and frosty, so much so that the layer of Ice I’d put on the glass started to steam, the faint wisps of it curling up into the afternoon heat.
Cooper looked at me, his eyes sharp and wary in his lined face. I sat back in my chair and gave him an easy smile.
We sat there for half an hour, sipping lemonade, while the three of them caught up. If the dwarf thought it strange Owen and Kincaid were here together, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he reminisced about Christmas, when Owen and Eva had visited him last. I hadn’t come with them then, not wanting to intrude on what was a family celebration, but I was glad I’d been able to meet Cooper today. I only wished the circumstances could have been better.
Finally, we finished our lemonade. The dwarf pushed his glass away and speared Owen with a hard look.
“Now, do you want to tell me the real reason you came all the way up here?” Cooper asked. “Because I know it wasn’t just for the pleasure of my company. Not when you came with Phillip, to whom as far as I know, you haven’t said a civil word in years. And you still haven’t told me about her.”
The dwarf jerked his head at me. Owen had introduced me before simply as Gin, but now it was time to let the dwarf know who and what I was.
“My name is Gin Blanco.”
The dwarf frowned, like he recognized the name but couldn’t quite place it, so I decided to help him out.
“I believe you know, or rather knew, my foster father. Fletcher Lane.”
The dwarf’s eyes sharpened that much more. “Yes, I knew Fletcher. I was very sorry to hear about his passing.”
Well, passing was a polite way of saying brutal murder, but I tilted my head, accepting his condolences.
Owen leaned forward, staring at the dwarf. “We came up here today because Salina is back in Ashland.”
For a moment, Cooper went completely, utterly still. He’d been reaching for the pitcher to pour himself some more lemonade, and his hand wavered in mid-air before he dropped it down to the table. Then, he sat back in his chair and shrugged, like it didn’t matter to him where Salina was or what she was doing.
“Well, I suppose it had to happen sooner or later,” he grumbled. “Although I was hoping for never.”
“What do you mean?” Owen asked.
Cooper shifted in his chair. His gaze cut to Kincaid, but he didn’t respond to Owen’s question. He didn’t have to.
“So it’s true then,” Owen said. “What Kincaid said. That Salina—that she hurt Eva all those years ago.”
Emotions flashed across his face like lightning. Shock, disbelief, disgust, and finally anger—so much anger. Owen got to his feet and paced around the patio, stalking from one side to the other, his wing tips clacking on the stones.
Finally, he turned and stabbed his finger at Cooper. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you wouldn’t have listened to us—any of us,” the dwarf said in a resigned voice. “You loved the girl, and you only wanted to see the good in her. There was no point in making things worse than they already were.”
Owen turned his gaze to Kincaid. “And you, Phillip? Why didn’t you tell me what she was doing? Hell, why didn’t Eva tell me?”
“I tried, but you were too busy beating the shit out of me,” Kincaid snapped. “As far as Eva goes, she told me that Salina threatened to hurt me and you too if she said anything. She begged me to keep quiet, so I did. Eva was so upset, so afraid that Salina could come back at any time. She’d already been hurt enough, and I didn’t want her to worry any more than she already was. That’s the reason I kept my mouth shut back then and all these years. I was protecting Eva.”
Something you failed to do. Kincaid didn’t say the words. He didn’t have to.
That stricken look dimmed Owen’s eyes again, and I knew what he was feeling—guilt. Guilt that he hadn’t realized what was going on, guilt that he’d taken Salina’s side over everyone else’s, guilt over what Eva had suffered, guilt that he’d almost killed Kincaid because of Salina’s lies. So much guilt. Enough to last a lifetime.
As much as I wanted to go over to Owen, hold him close, and tell him it was okay, I couldn’t do that. Nothing I could say would make his guilt go away, and right now I needed to talk to the dwarf about more practical matters.