Free One Night Burns (The Vampires of Livix, #1) by J Gordon Smith Page B

tree light.”
    “Great! I’ll box them up,” The artist took the pieces and carefully but quickly wrapped them up in butcher block paper. He placed them in a box tied with stiff cord. “I made a handle out of the cord as that train can get heavy after carrying it for a while.”
    Garin said, “Oh, that will be ok.”
    I turned and gave a short wave to the artist, “Bye! Thanks.”
    “Oh, here, I forgot to wrap this in the box. It’s my card if you’re looking for more pieces. I get most of my business through referrals.”
    “Thanks!” I took the card and we melded into the crowd.
     
    I caught Garin watching some of the girls go by. Face painted high school girls and young mothers that he’s too intense about. I elbowed him.
    “Ouch!”
    I leaned in close, “I’m not sure if it’s normal guy ogling or your affliction.”
    “Oh, some of both,” he smiled but the smile dropped as he snapped his attention further ahead on the street.
    I followed his sight line.
    Leaning against the side of Maggie's Ice Cream store stood a figure in an old cowboy hat and a long western style coat as if actually pulled out of the 1850’s. A pair of modern sunglasses sat on his sharp nose incongruously. The ice cream in his hand dribbled uneaten and melted into the large number of napkins wrapping it like a mushy tulip. At seeing our sharp gaze he shifted his eyes across other parts of the crowd like he hadn’t been watching us. The cowboy crushed up a flier that I recognized from the militia. He dropped it on the sidewalk before cutting across the street through the throng of people. When he emerged on the far side he dropped the cone into a trash bin.
    “Who is that?” I asked Garin quickly.
    “I don’t know. Vampire though,” he whispered. Garin pressed his hand into the small of my back and guided me in a gentle arc like a formal dance so we came into the stream of people going the other way.
     
    “You two look great together. A nice hat –” said one of the little old ladies in the local church stall as we flowed down the street passed her booth. Her head poked out of the tent.
    Garin let up on my back and we navigated upstream.
    “Thanks,” I said, adjusting my hat brim. “The pies smell amazing.”
    “The batch on the back shelves came out of the ovens less than ten minutes ago,” the little old lady said, wearing a crisp long flowing white dress with a small apron. “These are pretty popular keeping the girls busy in the church kitchen. I’m sure your handsome beau can spring ten dollars on a whole pie. Take it back and share it with the family.” She twittered, “Get you some points with the girl’s mother, it will.”
    I chose cherry. Garin paid for the pie and she quickly bagged it up so it would stay flat.
    “Now, I hear, mind you it’s idle gossip,” the little lady looked both ways down the street, and slid a couple of forks and some napkins in on top of the covered pie, “but some folks sit under the old oak tree in the square and eat the whole pie. I don’t believe such foolishness. But I’ll be here until the festival closes and I won’t tell no one if you come back for that second pie for the girl’s mother.” She twittered again, “Now have a good day. And you youngster's keep your energy up.”
    We laughed leaving her stall.
    Garin said, “That’s quite a church lady.”
    “I think she’s cute.”
     
    Garin navigated us around the stalls so we didn’t backtrack and saw the artists’ wares. I hadn’t been paying attention but we neatly ended up at the oak tree. We had been wandering long enough that sitting on the grass, the benches, or the chairs scattered around seemed attractive. A tinge of darkness crept in on the evening too.
    “You might want some dinner before having that dessert.” Garin handed me the second wrap.
    “I didn’t realize the day stretched out so much.” I quickly unwrapped the barbecue. Delicious scents wafted up. Whispering to me.