Chapter 4

"Wow!" was the only thing Marlin could say when she answered the door.

"I hope you're not disappointed," she answered nervously when he took the offered step in. "I didn't wear those shorts you seemed to like so much." She was wearing a relatively short, flowery summer dress that left her arms bare and showed just the hint of cleavage.

"Actually it wasn't the shorts I was interested in," he grinned. "You look wonderful. Better than I deserve in fact. Well, do I have to meet your father and reassure him I have no diabolical plans for his lovely daughter?"

"Dad's been dead for years," she smiled sadly as they stepped out onto the porch. "Besides you do have diabolical plans for me, remember?"

"Well, I wouldn't call them diabolical," he protested. "But I suppose it is open to interpretation. Unfortunately my devious campaign has been uncovered and now you are forewarned. I am completely undone!"

"It didn't take much to uncover them; you told me yourself, you idiot!" she laughed and wrapped her arm around his as they strolled down the road towards town.

"True," he mused. "Note to self: Diabolical plans work much better if kept secret. I'll have to remember that."

"No, you won't," she laughed lightly. "You are disarming me with your honesty and seducing me with your charm. I'll bet you've done this hundreds of times before."

"Hundreds of times!" he barked. "My God, woman! How old do you think I am? Where would I have found the time? Maybe I've been bragging about myself a little too much. You must think I am an incredible cad!"

"Incredible, yes; a cad I'm not so sure about," she said looking up at him. "You're the strangest man I've ever met. You continually belittle yourself and yet it's obvious you're witty and intelligent. You don't even pretend you don't want to take me to bed and yet are being honest when you say it doesn't matter if I say no. All in all, you are very puzzling."

"Oh? I'm telling the truth, am I?" he cocked his head and grinned at her. "Does that mean your Talent tends towards that of a truth-teller? In that case I'm going to be very careful what I say around you."

"It's not considered polite to talk about what makes somebody a witch," she dropped her eyes and bit her bottom lip. "But yes, I can usually tell if someone is lying to me. If you'd rather just take me home now..."

"Why would I want to do that?" he interrupted. "And deprive myself of your company? I think not! I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you or crossed some social boundary there but honestly I couldn't give a damn if you can tell when I'm lying or not. That's easily remedied by not lying. Which by the way I find works out much better in the long run anyway. It's too much like work trying to remember what you've said otherwise. If I tell the truth I don't have to think about it.

"I've told you before the fact that you have a Talent doesn't bother me," he chided her gently. "That your Talent manifests itself as truth-telling is interesting but not particularly important. You already know pretty much everything I would potentially lie about anyway. Yes, I think you're gorgeous. Yes, I'm sexually attracted to you and if ever given the chance would not only willingly but joyfully share a bed with you. But then I'm a man. If I'd of said anything different you wouldn't have to be a truth-teller to know I'm lying, now would you?

"And by the way, in the big city where I come from calling somebody a witch, even if they do have Talent, is considered impolite. The more usual term is Talented or maybe Gifted. Unless one of your Talents is the ability to turn me into a frog. If that's the case then maybe I'll reconsider the term witch."

"No!" she laughed and slapped the arm she was holding. "I can't turn you into a frog."

"That's good," he breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Because if my hand just happened to stray, completely by accident of course, to places it might not be welcome ... Well, I'm not eagerly looking forward to an exclusive diet of flies if it's all the same to you."

"That won't be a problem," she laughed again. "If your hand does accidently stray where it's not wanted I'll let you know about it soon enough in ways that won't involve lily pads or frog gigs. Well, maybe frog gigs; that depends just how far it happens to stray."

"In that case I'll make sure I give you plenty of warning before any accidents occur," he assured her.

"How can it be an accident if you warn me about it?" she giggled.

"Good point," he admitted after a pause.

"So where are you taking me to dine?" she asked.

"Well, as to that," he began. "I noticed that inexplicably the five-star restaurant in town is closed for the evening. Who would have known? We could go to the inn I suppose, but honestly I haven't been particularly happy with the service there lately. How about this cozy little place I know of, The Sunset House?"

"You want to take me to your boarding house?" she laughed. "You just want me close to your bedroom."

"Hmm, not a bad reason come to think of it," he replied. "But in this case ― this time anyway ― I was thinking it had decent food and maybe not so ... judgmental as some of the other places. However if you'd rather, we could stop by the store and pick up something for a picnic dinner down by the river."

"I like that idea," she smiled. "Maybe another time. It's possible the Widow Binder wouldn't be as persnickety as some of the others. She was always very kind to me and my sisters when we were young. I'm sorry this is such a problem for you but nearly everybody around here knows and thinks about us Hawking girls as being witches."

"Don't apologize to me," he insisted. "I knew the silly prejudices of these backward country bumpkins before I asked you to dine with me. Although it may somewhat limit our options I believe the company of one extremely attractive young lady is worth it. Pardon my language but honestly I don't give a shit what anybody thinks. Their petty little bigotry reflects poorly on them but nothing on you."

"You're a strange guy," she grinned, hip-bumped him and then reached out to grab his hand. "But I like that you're not scared off just because everybody else thinks I'm a witch or have these funny feelings once in a while."

"Believe me it would take more than being a witch or having funny feelings to scare me away from you," he grinned back and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, you!" she huffed and then laughed. "Yes, you want to get into my panties and you certainly haven't been shy about making that known. But why me? There must be at least a hundred other girls out there who would trip you on the street in broad daylight and be under you before you hit the ground. Why me? I'm not going to be that easy!"

"Okay, I'll admit it," he continued. "If you had weighed four-hundred pounds when you rushed past my table that first day I wouldn't have followed you in as you tried to storm the inn. Do I want to bed you? Hell yes I do! I'm a man and you are one heck of an attractive woman. That's nature and I am a very natural man. But even if you never succumbed to my secretive seduction I'm still enjoying my time with you. You're funny, bright and generally seem to be a really nice person. That it comes wrapped up in an adorable sexy little package is a bonus.

"So if I'm coming on too strong and it irritates you let me know and I'll keep quiet. My desire will still be there mind you but I won't mention it out loud anymore."

"Oh, I don't mind too much," she said. "It's nice to know a guy thinks you're attractive and enjoys being with her. And Mama always told us girls not to think too poorly of the boys just because they only have one thing on their minds. Like you said, it's only nature. Truth be told girls think about it a lot also but until recently we had to worry about what comes after more so than our boyfriends."

"Well I'd think you'd both have to worry about it," Marlin replied. "I guess the only way to be a hundred percent safe is through abstinence and I'm afraid I'm not a big fan of that. But if you are, that's okay."

"I'm glad to hear that," she smiled. "So does the contraceptive not being fool-proof and given your many experiences, does that mean there are one or two little Cransons running around?"

"Not that I know of," he chuckled. "But if there were I'd do the right thing by them if I could. I'm not exactly sure what I could do given I can hardly feed myself now on the pittance they pay me but I'd do everything I could. Hey! What do you mean by many? You make it sound like I've bedded every woman in the capital. I can assure you that isn't the case."

"You might have missed one or two but I'm sure you'll get around to them sooner or later," Melody smirked.

"Not even close," he scoffed. "And here is our bistro for the evening," he said as they stopped in front of his boarding house.

"Okay," she answered nervously looking up at the porch.

"If you'd rather, we can still get that picnic..." he started quietly.

"No," she nodded firmly. "I won't let a bunch of bigoted pricks ruin our evening. I'm a big girl now and I won't let what someone thinks of me stop me from doing what I want to."

"Then, my lady," he smiled and offered her his arm. "Shall we dine?"

"Why Mr. Cranson, you're just in time for supper!" the Widow Binder greeted them at the door. "And you've finally brought a guest. How lovely!"

"Where else would I bring my date if I wanted to impress her?" he chuckled. "Since I can't woo her with my boyish charms I was thinking your heavenly cooking would do the trick. Mrs. Binder, I'd like you to meet..."

"Melody Hawking," Mrs. Binder gushed. "As if I hadn't know her since she was a wee one still in diapers. I'm so glad you're here, love." Then as an aside to the girl she said, "I'm glad to see this young man out with such a lovely girl. We were beginning to wonder if he is a bit antisocial or something like that."

"I was just waiting to find the prettiest girl in the Shire," he responded. "Since you keep refusing me." In a sotto voce he whispered to Melody, "I think she has a boyfriend she won't tell me about."

"Oh you go on now," Mrs. Binder pretended to huff as she lightly slapped him on the arm while Melody giggled. "You two go in and get yourselves a seat and I'll be right back out in a jiff with the first course."

Marlin led Melody into the dining room where three elderly men already sat at the long table. He knew them fairly well since they were three of the five or six that ate most of their evening meals at the Sunset. Pulling Melody's chair out he seated her and then nodded to the others.

"Mr. Grayson, Mr. Hardy, Mr. Blackstone. Good evening to you. I'd like to introduce you to..." he started.

"We know who she is," Blackstone cut him off sharply. "And while it seems yer not too particular about yer company, the rest of us folk don't appreciate breaking bread with witches..." Smack! He yelped as a large sliver ladle cracked against the back of his head. "Now what ya go and do that fer, Shasa?" he whined.

"James Blackstone!" Mrs. Binder growled at him dangerously as she waved the ladle under his nose. "You'll be keeping a civil tongue in that head of yours or you'll be eating your own slop for supper for now on. Do you hear me? This young lady is a friend of my boarder and a guest in my house and if I have to choose between whose company I'd rather be keeping, then you know your way to the door and you best not be crawling back anytime soon! You understand me, James?"

"Aye," he flinched. "But I weren't saying anything that everybody else weren't feeling."

"Well you just keep your feelings to yourself," she huffed. "And that goes for you two coots, too," she said waving the ladle at the other men.

"I don't want to cause any trouble, Mrs. Binder," Melody said with a sniff. "I'll just leave now..."

"The devil you will," Shasa rounded on her waving the ladle. "I may not have the best cooking no matter what that young rascal says, but you're my guest and you're going to get a good meal in you if I have to tie you to that chair."

"Yes, ma'am," Melody answered in a small voice.

"You'd better do what she says," Marlin told her. "She swings a mean ladle and it looks like she knows how to use it."

"Okay," Melody giggled softly. Mrs. Binder nodded once with a huff.

"Well I don't care if she can turn me into a frog or make me stiff as a board," one of the other men said out loud. "I say it's about time we had some pretty young thing to look at around here. We was beginning to think this young fella here was a monk in disguise from one of them monasteries or something.

"Ya can't make me stiff as a board now can ya, Miss Melody?" he asked with a wink. "Or maybe just parts as stiff as a board? Now that's a bit of witchcraft I could be using if ya know what I mean." Melody tried to cover up a giggle with her hand and shook her head no. "Well, that's a damn shame and here I was hoping..."

"And that will be quite enough out of you, Walter Grayson!" Shasa chided with exasperation. "Your personal problems aren't fit talk for the dinner table, especially in front of a young lady."

"I have a feeling just having you in the same room is going to help out with his little problem," Marlin leaned over and whispered in Melody's ear. She blushed almost purple and smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Mrs. Binder, as usual the meal was delicious," Marlin told her as they were leaving. "And now if she will consent I think I will take my lady for a walk by the river and let this settle."

"Oh, you go on, you silver-tongued devil," Shasa blushed and then turned to Melody. "I'm sorry about that ass Blackstone, my dear. But you know you are welcome here any time even if it's not with this rapscallion. In fact I insist. I will be expecting you. With your mother and sisters out of town I want to make sure you get a good meal now and then. That reminds me, say hello to Teresa and your sisters when you see them next and I'll be expecting them around the next time they're here."

"I will, Mrs. Binder," Melody dimpled.

"Well I've some cleaning to do," Shasa scoffed and left them at the door.

"So, a river walk?" Marlin asked once she'd left.

"First I'd like to see your room," she grinned and then added, "No, not for that. I've heard you can tell a lot about a man from the way he keeps his room so what better way to get to know you?"

"My disappointment runneth over," he sighed. "However if you really want to ... It's right up the stairs here. Now I will warn you its not very big and maybe a bit cluttered." He opened the door for her and once they stepped inside he left the door open. She smiled a little at that as she looked around.

"You weren't kidding when you said it was cluttered," she mused. "What in heavens name do you have in all these trunks?" Although remarkably clean there were trunks piled on top of trunks throughout the tiny room leaving little room for anything except his single bed, neatly made up, and a small writing desk.

"Hmm, books mostly," he admitted flipping the lid on the trunk closest to him showing it to be filled to the top. "I, uh, read a lot. I don't tend to accumulate much 'stuff' as is were but books ... Well, once I get one I just can't seem to get rid of it. I know I'm a bit of a pack rat when it comes to them..." he sounded embarrassed.

"There must be thousands here," she gasped in amazement.

"Well, not that many," he muttered.

"Have you read all of them?" she asked.

"Not all," he shrugged. "I got two or three of the ones I brought with me still to go but I suppose I'll be done with them soon. Do you know of any bookstores around here? I haven't been able to find any."

"You'd have to go to Brighton," she replied absently. "One of my sisters works there. I'll write her and ask if she knows where any good bookstores are." She turned and looked at him appraisingly.

"Now you know my secret vice," he shrugged

"That and seducing young innocent woman into your bed," she chuckled.

"I have a hard time thinking of that as a vice," he grinned. "Plus it appears I'm a much better reader than a seducer."

"Oh, I don't know," she let her fingers trail across his chest as she past him leaving his room. "But for now you did promise me a walk by the river."

"Ouch! Damn, these heels are killing me," Melody muttered as they started out on the road back to her house.

"I'm sorry about that," Marlin commiserated. "But they do make your legs look spectacular!"

"Thanks, but right now you can have both the heels and my feet," she grumbled.

"Wait," he said stopping her and she looked at him quizzically. Moving around behind her back he said, "Spread your legs a little." She turned and arched her eyebrows. "Trust me."

"I'll bet you've said that a few times before," she laughed but did spread her legs to about shoulder width apart. Suddenly he bent down, stuck his head between her knees and stood up lifting her up and onto his shoulders as she squealed.

"There, hold these," he said pulling one shoe off and handing it up to her and then doing the same to the other.

"Put me down, you idiot!" she shouted laughing and screeching at the same time. "I'm too heavy for you to carry!"

"No, you're not," he said starting out down the road. "Maybe a few months ago but I've been carrying that damn heavy backpack over half this silly shire for the past two months. Believe me you feel light as a feather."

She giggled and protested as he carried her home, ignored her by blandly commenting on the sights along the way. Once they met a farmer driving a horse-drawn wagon heading into town and he looked at the farmer letting loose with a loud whinny.

"How embarrassing!" she cackled. "It's bad enough you're carrying me like a two-year-old playing horsey. Why did you have to do that?"

"I figured he probably thought you had bewitched me into thinking I was a horse," he shrugged causing her to squeal again and wrap her arms around his head. "So I thought I'd act the part."