The Prince's Consort Ch. 09

They agreed to leave at the end of the week and pass through her hometown for two days, departing on the second evening. Caitlin knew her mother's farmhand shouldn't be put out for her sake, so she insisted on staying at the Inn.

Kalen didn't want to cause a stir with the limousine; he made Micah drive them in the same wagon she'd arrived in. Offhandedly, she wondered if Micah had been the driver the first time around too.

Sara would not be coming this time, and Caitlin wondered if it were her fault. "He took a week off." Kalen commented, setting her suitcase by a bench inside the wagon. His plain clothes were uncharacteristically casual in contrast to his dark suits, she could almost call him 'Dale'.

"You're in my head, now?" Caitlin shot back.

He rose an eyebrow, "It was written all over your face when you saw Micah."

"Are they even allowed to take a week off?" she joked.

"I'm an employer, not a slaver." he chided gently, "Though others may not know the difference." He offered a hand, "Are you ready?"

She took his hand, and sat next to him on the bench, gripping the seat as Bailey took off at a canter. Caitlin's heart fluttered thinking about returning home.

It was a lifetime ago when she'd last tasted her mother's cooking, heard bleating of sheep, or smelled the pig slop. What would Janice Stone think of her daughter? Caitlin hoped nothing changed between them. Her auntie was opinionated and might parrot whatever story the old women made up around her disappearance. The rest of the old bats, she decided, could get stuffed.

She peered out into the gloom at the night sky, watching the moon ascend over the mountains. In a few hours, they'd be on flat, scorched earth, well on their way to her hometown.

The cart reared over the cobbled road, jostling her around. Kalen caught her shoulder so she didn't topple over, "Are you excited?"

"Yes, and a little nervous, I guess." Caitlin said, "What're you going to do during the day? How will we explain it?"

"I'll stay in the Inn, it will give you time to catch up with your mother. Remember what I said?"

"Nothing about you... you're Dale, a travelling merchant. I've been staying at your flat in the city if we haven't been exploring the countryside. We had a marvelous time visiting the circus recently, and I am looking forward to our trip to the beach." Caitlin finished, "Is that all?"

"You forgot the piano lessons." Kalen added.

"Right of course," Caitlin rolled her eyes, "how could I have forgotten?" She gripped the bench as Micah took them over a particularly nasty bump, "She'll want to meet you, you know."

"I'll stop by tomorrow evening, you two should catch up first."

"What is there to catch up on? I have to lie about what I've been up to, and I promise her last letter caught me up well enough on the town's current events. Even their freshly baked bread comes out of the oven stale." Kalen did not respond, but when she looked up, a smile curved at the edge of his lips. "What?"

"You wanted to return so badly, and now, in the face of it, you are scared." He looked down at her, "And you hide behind nonchalance as if it will protect you. It cannot be concealed from me, you should know that by now."

"Perhaps I can hardly admit it to myself." She confessed, "This place was all I knew, now... I don't know why it bothers me so much."

Kalen laced a hand through hers and squeezed, "Do not worry about anyone's opinion, they merely vie for something to gossip about, as you made mention. People talk." His sentiment was true, Caitlin knew, but it didn't ease the tension in her neck.

After a long silence, Kalen finally spoke again.

"Micah will be accompanying you during the day."

"How the hell am I supposed to explain that?" She glanced up at him, "'Oh, yeah, and by the way, here's our driver as well. Where's Dale, you ask? Don't worry about him, he's got a 'skin condition' that is exacerbated by the sun'."

"Tell them I am occupied. Papers and such, they do not need the details." Kalen straightened the seam of his brown slacks.

Caitlin had always wondered, "What does happen, if you're exposed to the sun?"

He did not answer for a moment, and when he finally did, it came with a sigh, "I only know what I have heard, never tested it myself... but, it is said to consume our flesh rapidly. Unlike many things, we do not recover well from the sun's rays."

"How long?" she asked, with a little too much animation.

Kalen watched her, "I think that is enough questions."

The rest of the journey was laced with a sullen silence, save for the brisk trot of Bailey's hooves. Eventually, Caitlin began to recognize the landscape. The tall trees gave way to shrubbery, that became dry crabgrass clinging to the salinized soil.

Then they passed an old tree, dry and dead, but for anyone living there, a clear marker showing where the town began. Familiar smells wafted through the cool night air.

Caitlin was home.

*

"Caitlin!" a gray-haired Marjorie shouted, dashing around the counter, and wrapping her in a big, soft hug. The innkeeper's enthusiasm was unexpected.

"Marjorie!" the woman's squeeze made her release an 'oof'. "I'm sorry it's so late, is there room available tonight?"

The woman guffawed, "There's always room, you know we don't make money from the lodgings. It's either the food or booze." She eyed Kalen, "Unless this bugger comes into town, stealing away our girl. You've got some explaining to do." He shrugged at her accusation. Marjorie returned her attention to Caitlin, "You're looking well! Janice said you were out, exploring the world. Looks as if it did you some good." Marjorie decided.

"She told you, did she?" Caitlin scratched the back of her neck.

"There ain't much she hasn't said. How long will the two of you be staying?"

"Three days." Kalen interjected, "And we'll need two rooms." He was all business, cold in contrast to Marjorie's motherly warmth.

"Haven't bunked up, yet?" The innkeeper teased.

"We have a driver," Kalen corrected. Caitlin noticed he had a slight aversion to the woman, but remained genteel, "the horse needs lodging as well."

"That we can do, I'll wake the husband." She teetered into an office, hollering for Darryl.

Soon enough, a tousled yawning Darryl emerged, his belly sagged out of his nightshirt. "Whaddaya want, woman-" he caught sight of their guests, "Caitlin, well I'll be damned."

Marjorie slugged him, "Don't test the Lord, husband, He might take you up on it. Go stable up their horse, I'll set up their rooms."

Darryl rubbed away the pain and left, but not after looking like he'd seen a ghost. And perhaps, Caitlin considered, he had. Was there anything left of the small-town girl they'd known?

"Did you want something to drink while you wait?" Marjorie offered.

Caitlin shook her head, wanting the reunion to be over before it began. "No. Thank you, though." She smiled. Kalen shifted her suitcase to his other hand.

The innkeeper nodded and left them alone in the front.

Micah entered, looking windblown and exhausted, "It's like this place gets smaller ever time you visit." He scoffed. "Least the boarding's cheap, huh?"

"Your syntax never fails to annoy, Micah." Kalen said with a droll, "I wonder if you have ever uttered a meaningful comment."

"Sorry Dale," Micah amended, "but you know it's part of my wit and charm, 's why you hired me, after all." His transition from Master was effortless, she wondered how often they played pretend.

Kalen considered it with a small 'hm' in his throat but said nothing more.

Marjorie emerged after some rummaging in the back, "Here we are! The rooms are ready for you. It'll be twenty a night per room, ten for the horse. Sound reasonable?"

"Perfectly," Kalen stifled a bow, "After you." He led Caitlin through the narrow hallway.

Marjorie followed behind, "The two in the back, on the left and right. Breakfast starts at six, gotta pay for that separately."

Before the innkeeper walked away, Caitlin turned to face her, "Please, don't tell anyone I'm here. I want to surprise my mom first."

Marjorie nodded, "I'll twist Darryl's balls if he says anything."

"Thanks," Caitlin smiled; the two innkeepers had always been outspoken to the point of impropriety, but it was amusing at its worst.

She ducked inside the bedroom, waving to Micah as they diverged. Kalen shut the door, setting down her suitcase. "When will you see your mother?"

"After I take a nap." Caitlin threw herself on the creaky bed, filled with lumps, "I'm not used to being up in the daytime anymore... hope I can stay awake." She mumbled into the pillow. "Where are you going to sleep?" she realized there was a window that faced East.

"In the closet." Kalen said without emotion. "As I had before."

Caitlin levered up, "What?" she couldn't imagine a Prince of vampires sleeping on the floor of the dingy closet, surrounded by dust bunnies. "Then at least take the bedding..."

"Do not put yourself out." He waved her offer away, "I have made do with less."

She threw a pillow at him anyhow, which he caught without a thought. "I couldn't possibly sleep, knowing you're stuck on the floor. Please, take it?"

Kalen gave a slight bow, "As you wish." He set it inside the closet, then placed her suitcase on a small wooden desk, opening it up. "What will you wear today?"

All the clothes she'd been provided at the mansion were higher quality than anything the townsfolk had. No matter what she wore, her upgrade in attire would not go unnoticed. "The plainest thing I have, probably."

"Jeans, then, and a riding shirt." Kalen laid the outfit on the desk.

Caitlin threw herself back down on the bed, "Sure," she closed her eyes, "thank you."

He placed a hand on her head, "Of course," stroking her hair back, "anything for you." Kalen's gentle caress allowed her to slip into the twilight of unconsciousness.

*

A stream of light touched the bed and illuminated the vanilla comforter, making Caitlin wince. She rolled over, avoiding the bright light, but eventually could not remain in the realm of sleep any longer. Rising from the bed, she pulled the curtains shut and began dressing.

Next to her suitcase was a twenty, a key, and a note.

For breakfast. Was all it said, she stuffed the bill in her pocket. As she left the room, Caitlin trailed a finger over the closet handle, wondering what he looked like in sleep.

Back at the mansion, she was vulnerable. But here, Kalen was risking his life, she realized. Was it that he cared so much for her? Or so little for himself? She didn't know what might happen if the closet doors were opened, he'd refused to tell her, or was unable to the night before.

Thinking of breakfast made her stomach grumble, but she didn't want anyone to see her before visiting the farm first. After that, they could gossip away.

Caitlin locked the door securely, and rapped on Micah's.

After a shuffle, a bump, and a thud, the door opened. "Is it that time already?" he grumbled.

"You've never worked on a farm before, have you?" Caitlin was not amused.

"Can't say I have." He sighed, "Though I don't remember much of my twenties, so you never know." Micah's grin irritated Caitlin, but he gathered himself and locked his own room. "Where we headed first?"

"My mom's farm." Her heart dropped a little, it was no longer 'their' farm.

"Fantastic," Micah said with too much enthusiasm, "I love the smell of manure in the morning."

"Oh good," Caitlin shot back, "then I'll put you to work in the stables, I'm sure she could use the help."

Micah backpedaled, "Aw, no I mean... I don't like it that much..."

"Then keep your yap shut," Micah didn't make a peep as they left the Inn, passing only Marjorie and a singular patron.

Mr. Walton, a ranch owner and Council member, stopped her, "Caitlin Stone?" his cloudy eyes focused, "Is that you?"

"Yes, Mr. Walton, I've come back to visit my mom." She explained, hoping he'd take his hand off her shoulder. Micah stepped closer.

"And who is that with you?" He glanced between them, "Haven't seen you before."

Micah stayed silent, adhering to her rule.

"He's our driver," Caitlin chimed in, "I have to be headed out, sir. It was good to see you again." She slipped from his bony grip and moved towards the exit.

Mr. Walton gave her an odd look, "I helped search for you, you know. Spent days combing the groves, we thought the worst... then your letter came." He pointed to a bulletin board, the folded letter pinned in the center. "Your mama was so relieved when she got it, it was cruel of you to leave like that."

Guilt spread through her, "I know, sir. It was so sudden, didn't have time to prepare." Not that she'd had a choice, but he wouldn't understand. "I'm going to see her now."

The old man's features stayed crumpled, "Tell her I said 'hi', then." He waved dismissively.

"I will." She said, but Mr. Walton had already turned around.

Caitlin exited and walked down Main street, the only 'street', as quickly as possible. The old man was a coot, but her absence caused a bigger stir than she realized. She couldn't even tell them the truth. Taking a back route between properties, she ran into nobody else until the last acre.

"Miss Stone?" Caitlin heard a man's voice behind her. She turned slowly, "Am I seeing a ghost in the daytime?" Father Elliot asked, dressed in his priestly robes that brushed the ground, black cloth dusted brown at the hem. "It is you."

Years of her childhood came flooding back, the man replaced Father Petris when she was little. He'd been young, sent by the church shortly after his ordination. Now, gray strands speckled his once black hair. "Yes, Father." She glanced up at the lanky priest, "I'm visiting my mom for a few days." She was a child again, confessing her sins, "Um... and this is Micah, he's our driver."

"Our?" Father raised a brow, shifting his weight and watching her past his long nose.

"Me and Dale." Caitlin managed.

Father Elliot considered, then nodded, "I will not keep you any longer, your mother will be pleased to see you. Come to the church when you've the time."

"I will." She smiled.

He wrapped her in a tight hug, she could feel his ribs through the thick garment. "The Heavenly Father watches out for His own." The embrace was familiar, comfortable. He'd been the only father figure she'd known, other than his predecessor.

No judgment marred his features as he left, merely acceptance. Father Elliot had always been a good man, to her and the other townsfolk. He spoke with compassion, and did not lead sermons with fear, as she heard some priests were apt to do.

Janice Stone's farmhouse was in sight, at the end of the dirt path. Her mom's old Chevy sat parked next to the garage. Janice was likely in the back, tending to the animals. Caitlin decided not to knock and went around the side, where she saw a shirtless man easing a particularly big trunk out of the ground. His muscles strained at the effort, sweat glazed his tanned skin, evidence of long hours in the sunlight. "Gabe?" she called.

The man speared his tool into the ground and turned, wiping his brow. "It's Gabriel." He looked at her with surprise, "You must be Caitlin. Janice has told me a lot about you." Gabriel was younger than she gathered from the vague description, handsome in a rugged sort of way, except for a jagged scar that ran from his forehead, across the bridge of his nose, and over his right cheek. "And you're Dale, I assume?" he looked Micah up and down critically.

"Nah, I'm just the driver. Micah," he held out a hand.

Gabriel looked at it, but did not accept, "Janice is around here somewhere. I'll go get her." He nodded at Caitlin before leaving.

"Friendly, isn't he?" Micah shot.

"What'd I say?" Caitlin glanced his way.

"Yep, shutting up." He zipped his lip. She wished Sara was present to balance out Micah's overt nature. Micah was about to open his mouth again, but he was interrupted.

"Caitlin?" Her mother's voice called, "Is it really you?"

"Yes, mom... it's me." She choked as her mother rounded the barn, hardly aged a day. Caitlin couldn't help running to her and they embraced, interlocking in a firm hug. Janice was strong from years of farm work, she swung Caitlin around once before kissing her face many times; Janice's graying golden hair was pulled back into a severe braid.

"Honey," her mom gasped, "you've gotten pale! Is there no sun in the city?" she paid no mind to the tears on her cheeks.

Caitlin wiped a tear from her eye before it fell, "It's different..."

"When did you decide to come back?" her mother asked, "Your last letter didn't mention it."

"It was last minute, Dale said we could pass by on our way from the city," she hated lying to the one person that deserved the truth.

"Where is that bastard, anyway?" Janice looked at Micah, "you're not him." She accused.

"No, ma'am." Micah confessed, glancing back at Caitlin, "I'm the driver." His one line was beginning to stale. She didn't feel bad for him in the least.

"Driver, huh?" her mother's blue eyes regarded him, "any particular reason you're escorting my daughter around her own town? Seems like something Dale should be doing."

Micah balked, "Well... it's uh. Dale is preoccupied with work... so he asked me to fill in."

"She doesn't need anyone traipsing after her, not here." Her mom rolled her eyes and turned back to Caitlin, "Come inside, are you hungry?"

"Starved," she grinned.

"Good. Gabe, find something to occupy the driver, we'll have breakfast in a bit." Her arm looped over Caitlin's shoulder and they walked in together. Janice always made her feel small, she'd never grown to her mother's full height, wondering if her birth father was to blame. When the door closed, Janice turned around with a stern face, "What happened?"

Caitlin tried to seem nonchalant in the face of her mother's fury, "What do you mean?"

"Something's going on, and I don't like it." She led her to a kitchen chair, "You left through the window, took nothing but the clothes on your back. I'm not stupid, Caitlin."

She remained quiet in the wake of the truth, looking away.

"What has this Dale done to you?"

"Nothing," she wavered, "He hasn't done anything."

Janice picked up her left hand in a firm grip, turning it upright to see the wrist. She brushed a thumb over the knotted scar Kalen's father created. "What have you gotten yourself into?" the last question came out a whisper.

"I hurt myself." Caitlin lied again, "I was clumsy."

"I'm your mother, do you think I don't know when you're lying?" Janice let go of her wrist and sat next to her, "Honey, if he's hurting you, say the word and we'll run him out of town."

"You can't-" she began, then amended herself, "It's not like that... he didn't do it." At least she could tell the truth on that point.

Her mother stared at her, "Is he mob?"

"Mom-" Caitlin rolled her eyes.

"Well?"

"No! He's not part of the mob. Stop worrying about me, please." She begged her mother, hoping she would drop it. "I'm a grown woman, I can take care of myself."

"Clearly." She threw up a hand, "I worry about you, honey, making a big decision like this without any forethought. He could have been a murderer!"

A surprised laugh escaped Caitlin.

"What's so funny?" cold blue eyes stared her down.

"I'm sorry mom," She sobered her features, "Please, can we have a nice visit? I'll only be in town a day or two... I don't want to fight." she pleaded, holding her mother's hand.

Something changed in her mother's features, she stood, unlatching from her grip. "Glad to see he got you some good clothes, at least. Did you want eggs?" As if the entire conversation hadn't happened, she pulled out pots and pans to make breakfast.