9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine

Fenella

I take a ton of pictures of my new car and post them right away. And then I get behind the wheel.

I bought a car!

It's the best kind of rush.

My phone keeps alerting me to the texts after my car news, but I leave it face down. This is too fun to drive. The Charger purrs and growls, like a wild cat.

I wonder if they have big cats in Laandia, like mountain lions and panthers.

I bet they have bears. What if I see a bear?

Gunnar flew me over Laandia once in his little plane, so I've seen the land from about ten thousand feet, but I've never been outside of the town limits of Battle Harbour. It's very different from a big city that can sprawl for miles—once you get free of the town streets, it's all trees and rocks and the odd house perched on the side of a hill. The town itself might feel small, but outside the settled streets feels wild and wide open, if you can be open while surrounded by towering forests .

I find a very winding road with the ocean crashing against the shore on one side and a lot of big trees on the other.

But I have a car, so I'm happy.

I didn't bother trying to negotiate the price. Coy and Laura need the money more than I do. But I was surprised when Coy pushed the keys at me after I finished my chowder.

I also can't believe they fed me, just like that. I could have been anyone, and they invited me in and gave me soup. Who does that?

"I can't take it now. I don't have the money with me," I told him. "I can bring it tomorrow."

"I figure a model staying at the castle should be good for it. Take it tonight, drop the money off here tomorrow or the next day, whenever you get it sorted," Coy said.

And he just gave me the car to take tonight.

So of course I have to go for a drive.

The headlights sweep along the road, illuminating the rocky shoreline that leads me out of town and up the cliff where the castle sits watching. I pass it and keep going. The farther away from town, the more trees there are. I catch glimpses of the water now and again.

I make a mental note to change the presets on the radio, or subscribe to Sirius, although I've never had to do either of those things before. There's also no Bluetooth for me to sync my phone, so I end up listening to a station that plays twangy country music.

Not my first choice, but driving always needs music. And at least it's not Opium.

I bought a car. I own a car now.

To think, earlier today I was so bored that I debated calling my father to ask if I could come home, and now I'm happy to be in Laandia again. Retail therapy always helps my mood, but the boost buying the car gave me is like a drug. I can get used to this.

What isn't helping my mood is the car in front of me.

This could be a fun road—curving and winding around the cliff. I keep driving up and up, so it'll be amazing coming down. I've driven the California highway, Sea to Sky in British Columbia, and Autobahn, and this road might be up there.

If I can pass this guy.

I caught up to the fossil in the beat-up Corolla taking their own sweet time a few kilometres past the castle and there hasn't been a straight part where I can pass him.

It's a little frustrating.

Finally, they signal and turn on a deserted-looking gravel road. I fly by with a roar, but once I hit the next curve, I think maybe I should figure out where I'm going. The sky has darkened since I left town, a dark purple and I have no idea where I am. Or what is around here. Like bears. Or another castle.

I turn around to head back to find the gravel road and see if they're friendly and can tell me where the heck I am .

My headlights show the white Corolla parked in the middle of a clearing and two men taking something from the trunk. Closer to the water, a lighthouse rears up into the sky, bright light stretching far out into the ocean.

I didn't expect a lighthouse, but I also never expected that one of the men would be Silas from the coffee shop.

He puts up a hand against the bright lights as I park beside him. "Fenella?" he asks with surprise as I bounce out of my new car. "What are you doing here?"

"I bought a car. You like?" Silas stands with a younger version of himself and I smile at the expressions of shock on their faces. "What are you doing out here?"

"That's Coy Schmidt's car," the younger version says.

"It is. He's an interesting one, don't you think? I bought it about an hour ago." I don't feel like getting into the fact I technically haven't bought it yet because that's just semantics. It's still my car.

It's surprising how possessive I feel about it.

"You just went out and bought a car? He's been trying to sell the thing for years," Silas says in a warning voice. He pulls a case out of the trunk and shuts it.

"And I have no idea why no one scooped it up. A little pricey, but when you think about all the work he must have put into it, it's worth it. It's a 2007 and it looks fabulous." I give a little shimmy as I pat the hood .

Silas leans against the Corolla, which looks like such a baby car next to my yellow beast. I mean, it's a fine car, but it's no Charger. "You sound like you know about cars."

What I don't know about is how cold it is here. When the sun disappeared, it took every last bit of warmth with it, and that wind blowing from the ocean would freeze the balls off a buffalo, as Gunnar used to say. I can see why he'd say that now. It's only October but brr .

I've never been to Laandia in the winter—and I don't want to. "My father makes toy cars. I can find my way around an engine," I tell Silas proudly, beginning to button my jacket with chilled fingers.

"Those are model cars. I don't think they have actual engines," he points out. But he's smiling as he says it—at least I think it's a smile.

It's nice; people are usually too intimidated or afraid of me to let their guard down so quickly. I smile in return and tell myself it's only to make Silas more comfortable. "Yes, but my father commissions Ford and Dodge to make life-sized models of the best-selling toy cars." Silas raises his eyebrows like that is news to him. Doesn't everyone know that? "There are some collectors who want to drive the real thing."

"I'm sure they do."

People always underestimate my knowledge about cars. I get it—this outfit is not what a grease monkey would wear. "Now, your turn," I say to get back to the question at hand. "Do you often steal away and go parking in the middle of nowhere with…?" I glance at his… son? Both have curly hair and wide eyes and the same smile. They could be father and son.

Silas has a son?

Silas might have a gaggle of sons with three different wives for all I know.

"This is Wyatt. My nephew."

Nephew is better than son, and the news steals the prickle of unease. "Hello, Nephew Wyatt." I smile at him. "So, what are you boys doing up here? Wherever here is? That's why I stopped. I might be a little lost."

"Has Gunnar never taken you up the coast?" Silas asks.

"Gunnar has taken me to the bars in Battle Harbour. That's about it."

Silas shakes his head. "There's a lot more to Laandia than what you can find in Battle Harbour." He points to the lighthouse in the distance. "That's the Double Island Lighthouse. I'm trying to get it recognized as a Dark Sky Location so we can create the first Starlight Reserve in Laandia."

"Dark Sky what?"

"It's a light-pollution-free zone. If you notice, all the outdoor lights face the ground and the bulbs are yellow. Also, this light doesn't flash. It's better for the nocturnal animals in the area, but also—" He points up. "Stars."

Stars. So many stars, and it's still only dusk. There are so many that it's like they're hanging from the ceiling in a cheesy teen rom-com prom movie .

I stand, head tilted back, and take them in. Looking up at them kind of takes my breath away.

"Pretty," Wyatt says. He even sounds like Silas, except his voice isn't as deep yet.

"There are places up the coast that you can see the aurora borealis," Silas continues.

I bring my attention back to him. "I've seen them in Iceland. Beautiful."

"Of course you have." But there's no condescending note in his tone. "I think it would bring in more tourism to the country if we had someplace like the observatory in Nova Scotia.

"Does the country need more tourists?"

"More tourists mean more business and that's always a good thing."

For the first time, I look at Silas as a business owner, rather than the good-looking guy who makes me coffee. "I guess so."

"You can see Neptune tonight," Wyatt cuts in. "Want to check it out?"

"I'm sure Fenella has better things to do," Silas tells him.

"Actually, I don't." I have a new car and nowhere to go with it. It's a little pathetic. "I'm ready to check out anything."

Silas studies me. And I study him right back, the lights from the lighthouse giving the scene a yellowish glow.

I didn't think he was so tall. Not as big as the princes, but they really grow them big here in Laandia.

Silas fits into Coffee for the Sole perfectly—the flannel shirts rolled up to show strong forearms, the smile that's not quite perfect but still causes a flutter, and the ease at which he tops a latte with his special unicorn foam. He's the perfect hero for a small-town coffee shop.

But out here in the dark, wearing a thick corduroy jacket and a beanie tamping down his wavy hair, he's like a different man.

More of a man . A manly man. A nothing-like-Tiger-man.

Silas would tower over Tiger, with shoulders double the size.

Now, why am I comparing Silas to Tiger? Even without really knowing, I can tell Silas is the better man.

Is he going to tell me to go home?

I don't want to go home. Or back to the castle. I want to stay here. With Silas.

But before he says anything, Silas unlocks his trunk again. "If you're going to hang around, you need something warmer to wear."

"This is all I've got," I tell him, trying not to let my teeth chatter.

He pulls out something bulky. "You can wear this." He holds it up and I see that it's a thick and heavy-looking parka with a fur-lined hood. Canada Goose jacket? Moose Knuckles? Whatever brand, I'm going to swim in it.

But as he holds it up, I turn around to let Silas help me into it, slipping it on over mine. The coat itself is chilly from being in his trunk, but it cuts the cold, and immediately, I feel less like I'm about to get frostbite. "Thank you."

I fumble to find the zipper and Silas hunches his shoulders to do it up for me. "It's a bit big," he says ruefully.

"And definitely not your usual attire," Wyatt chimes in with a laugh.

"But it will keep you warm." And then Silas pulls a wool beanie out of the pocket of the coat and tugs it over my head, without giving a thought to my hair .

My hair, which is trapped inside this bulky bear of a coat. Silas realizes it at the same time and slides his hands around my neck to free my long hair, unfolding it so it hangs over my shoulders.

I stand still and stare up at him because only stylists have ever put a coat on me, and no one has ever thought to free my hair. He smooths the hat with big hands. "Sorry," he says with a start. "I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," I say, suddenly breathless. "I'm warm now."

"Good. Let's go see some stars."