Chapter Twenty
The coyote took that bargain gave,
Under the moonless deep,
He didn’t know that crossroads’ deals,
Can leave a soul to weep.
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
Clem was a woman of her word. She didn’t talk to any strangers, as she stood by the rail of the horse track. It just so happened that she did spot an acquaintance in the small crowd, though, and acquaintances didn’t count as “strangers.” She would tell Bill so, if he complained about her striking up a conversation with the woman.
“Hi, Mamie.”
Clementine and Mamie O’Rourke had gone to college together, although Clem had never been nearly as popular. Mamie had dated Johnny for a time. He’d taken her to the Homecoming celebration freshman year, which had just about broken Clementine’s heart.
Mamie had never been mean to Clem, though. Muses often drew the suspicions of other women, because of their reputation of enticing men. Clem had never really tried to entice anyone except Bill, but Johnny had always warned her that other girls were sure to judge her for her species’ seductive ways.
She shouldn’t have listened to his opinion.
Clem had been so worried about being judged, she’d pulled into herself for most of high school and college. Her teenage years were spent with Johnny and her brothers, instead of other girls. Now that she was a reasonably confident adult, having more women friends might be nice. And, while Mamie and Clem had never been close, Mamie always seemed welcoming enough.
Outgoing, beautiful, and the daughter of an international celebrity, Mamie sure wasn’t threatened by some too-curvy muse. Mamie’s father was Lon “Ranger” O’Rourke. Ranger was just about as big a TV star as you could find. Home on the Range was broadcast in nearly every kingdom, showcasing all the hottest talent, direct from Red River Valley. It was a hugely popular variety show, with up-and-coming singers and musicians performing. The program had catapulted numerous people to stardom and made the O’Rourke family very rich.
Today, Mamie wasn’t looking so prosperous, though. Usually, she was impeccably dressed. It was hard to square her normal stylish image with her current outfit, which appeared to be a Sir Galahad fan club t-shirt and cactus-patterned yoga pants.
Mamie sent Clem a distracted look that quickly became panicked, when she realized who had approached her. Why in the world would she panic when she saw Clem? Nobody ever panicked when they saw Clem. She was the least intimidating person in the world.
“What do you want?” Mamie demanded warily. “Why are you here?”
Clem was flummoxed for a beat. “Um… I’m on a date with my husband.”
“Husband? So Johnny’s here?”
“No, my husband is Bill.”
Mamie blinked, her eyes red-rimmed and startled. “Bill?” She repeated, as if Clem was speaking some alien dialect. “Pecos Bill?”
“That’s right. We’ve just…”
Mamie interrupted her. “You married Pecos Bill? After he posted that ‘support women’ thing on his social media against Johnny?”
It took Clem a second to recall Bill’s mischievous prank. Rosalee had wanted him to say that he’d quit the band and he’d obliged, but he’d added that oblique criticism about Johnny firing Clementine. He was so loyal.
“Oh, that post was because of me.”
Mamie’s brows tugged together. She didn’t seem wary anymore. She looked stunned. “Bill stood up for you, against Johnny? What about his career? His guitar playing was beginning to get some notice, after the last album.” Mamie knew a lot about the music business.
“Bill asked me to be his manager. He decided to go solo. He’s actually playing The Kitchen tomorrow night, if you want to stop by.”
Mamie didn’t seem interested in attending Bill’s performance. “How did Johnny take you leaving him for another man?” She asked in a strange tone. “He was always so sure that you loved him.”
“Johnny fired me.” Clem scoffed. “My leaving was his own fault. And we weren't together romantically, so…”
Mamie cut her off again. She did that with everyone, so Clem didn’t take offense. Mamie loved to dominate a conversation. “We all figured you were endgame, though. When I broke up with Johnny, he went on some long rant about how you were the only sweet, faithful girl in the whole town. I just assumed he’d eventually marry you…” She trailed off and gave her head a quick shake. Strawberry-blonde strands escaped her haphazard braid. “I guess he fucked that up, too.”
“Johnny’s future isn’t the same as mine.” Clem wasn’t sure what else to say. “My future is with Bill.”
“Good for you.” Mamie’s expression was more open now. “I honestly don’t know how you put up with that asshole, for so long.”
“Neither do I. I’ve recently become more assertive.”
“Yeah, I like you better already.” Mamie went back to watching the horses, her eyes compulsively moving between them. “So, which one do you think’s got it today?” She asked like she wanted to change the subject. “I need a winner.” She held a hand to her mouth. The manicure had been gnawed off most of her fingers. “Christ, I really need a winner.”
Clementine shifted her focus to the odd pageantry of the light fantastic. Like Bill had described, the horses were showing off before they entered the starting gate. They looked adorable in their colorful silks. The gamblers jotted down frantic notes to the track employees, who stood by to run their bets up to the windows. Most everyone seemed to be having a good time, the people laughing and the horses soaking in the attention.
But some gamblers, like Mamie, were clearly desperate. And some horses, like that bobbed-tail nag, were clearly in it for glory.
Clementine eyed the plain gray horse. She’d never really tried her magic with animals before, but then most animals weren’t engaged in competitive sports. Sports and art both required a high degree of talent and practice and will. Her powers stirred, feeling the gray horse’s determination to win. His skill on this track. His focus.
“That one.” She pointed to the obvious winner.
“Eastside-Westside?” Mamie shot her a mystified look. “He hasn’t won a race all year. He’s like 10 to 1.”
Clementine shrugged. “He likes this track and the sun shining down on him.” She looked up at the bright sky, understanding how it made him happy. “He’s motivated by light. By the sense of freedom. Being outside in the desert air. Running full-out for five miles. It’s who he is as an athlete. This is his moment.”
Mamie’s eyes went from the short-tailed horse to Clem. Back to the horse. Back to Clem. “You’re sure? ” She asked doubtfully.
“I’m a muse. Understanding performers is what I do best.”
Mamie blinked, as if she’d never considered that part of Clem’s ability before. “Holy shit.” She blurted out and waved over one of the bet-runners. “Here! Everything on Eastside-Westside to win. Hurry!”
The elf boy went dashing off with the money she’d handed him. He seemed young to be working. He really should be in school.
That made her think of Luke and how the boy was hiding from her. Clem frowned.
“Christ.” Mamie was trembling, as the horses headed to the starting gate. “I can’t believe I just did that. What if you’re wrong?” She hurried over to take a spot by the fence. “I’ll be finished.”
Clementine didn’t like the frantic energy emanating from the woman. “Mamie, are you okay? Like is everything… okay?”
“I’m, uh,” Mamie shot her a quick agonized look, “I’m having a little issue with cash flow.”
“Me too.” Clementine commiserated. “I was just telling Bill we need to fix cheaper meals, until things pick up.”
Mamie gave a semi-hysterical laugh. “My problems are a little more serious than clipping some coupons, I’m afraid. There are certain photos of me that I have to get back, before Vulture Valente gets hold of them. They will humiliate my dad.”
“Holy moly! You’re being blackmailed?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to pay.” Mamie’s lips thinned. “If I do, he’ll never stop asking for more. Instead, I hired a dragon.”
“To set the blackmailer on fire?”
“I considered that, sure, but it would just lead to more PR problems. It’s easier to get rid of the pictures.” Mamie’s eyes narrowed, mentally reviewing her plan. “Have you ever heard of Trevelyan, Last of the Green Dragons?”
“No.” Dragons were powerful and snobby. They lived way above muses’ social circles.
“Well, Trevelyan sells the darkest magic in the world. I’ve hired him to find the photos, and all the copies, and destroy them forever. That will solve my problem. But it’ll cost me a fortune to pay for a spell like that. Fucking Trevelyan is charging me a bucket full of gold for his magical services. Literally. He wants a bucket . He says it’ll make all the coins easier to carry.”
Practical of him. Greedy, but practical. “And you’re going to get this bucket full of gold at a horse track?” Clem asked a little dubiously.
“I’m here all the time, for fun. Mostly I lose, but it’s never mattered before. Now, I’ve just got to pick a winner.”
“Mamie, I’m sure your dad will lend you…”
“I can’t go to my dad for a loan, without explaining what the money’s for! And it’s not like evil dragons take credit cards, so I have no choice except to raise the cash…” She broke off, because the race was about to begin. “Oh, Christ .” Her hand reached out to grip Clem’s arm. “If Eastside-Westside doesn’t win, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“He’ll win.”
Mamie wasn’t so sure. She squeezed her eyes shut, as the starting gates opened and the horses burst onto the track. “I can’t watch.”
Clementine’s gaze stayed on the race. It reminded her of her nightlight, only not at all dreamy or relaxing. This seemed dangerous.
The horses thundered across the red dirt, throwing up a cloud of dust in their wake. The animals’ legs were so incredibly thin to support their gigantic bodies. Jockeys clung to their backs, gripping the reigns and weaving their mounts through impossibly small openings in the pack. It was a wonder there weren’t injuries every day.
Eastside-Westside pulled into the lead by the first turn. Eyes on the finish line, he tore around the track at a spectacular speed. A horse with black-and-white markings gave him a good run. Her name was Do-Dah-Day according to the breathless announcer narrating the race over the loudspeaker. That filly was very talented. Had a lot of heart.
But this race belonged to Eastside-Westside.
Clementine watched calmly as the horses circled the track, already knowing the inevitable outcome. Eastside-Westside was running for the sheer joy of running. None of the other horses were close to him now. Like all artists, he loved to perform his craft to the best of his abilities.
She smiled, as he finished well ahead of the others. He all but danced over the finish line and she could sense his happiness. Mamie would be happy, too.
“You can open your eyes now. He won.”
“He won?” Mamie’s eyes popped open, as the loudspeaker announced the final results.
Eastside-Westside, Do-Dah-Day, and Went-Down-South. Win, show, place.
“He won!” Mamie began jumping up and down. “Yee-haw!” She gave Clementine a hug, while still jumping. It was a little awkward. “Now, we’re on our way. Quick, who’s going to win the next race?”
“The next race? Didn’t you win enough with this one?”
“A bucket filled with gold.” Mamie repeated pointedly. “Of course, I don’t have enough! We need to keep going.” She pointed towards the next group of racers, who were already assembling for the light fantastic. “How about Ring’o Rosie? She seems like a winner.”
Clementine adjusted her glasses, looking over Rosie. “No, she’s distracted. Bet on the bay.” She nodded towards the reddish-brown horse, calmly gazing out at the track. “That one’s confident. Prepared. He’s got this.”
“Hey!” Mamie waved down the boy who’d taken her last wager. “We’re letting it all ride on Falling Bridge. My genius friend is a muse and she says he’s got this.”
Mamie’s enthusiastic praise drew the attention of some of the other gamblers. Bill was right about the group. They were superstitious. For whatever reason, Clementine’s prediction seemed to galvanize several of them to also bet on Falling Bridge.
And after he won, even more people rushed to surround Clem, eager for her next pick. Mamie was gleeful with all the money rolling in. Not sure what else to do, Clementine pointed towards a big ebony horse named Pocket-Full-of-Tin for the third race. This time everyone standing along the apron bet on her recommendation.
This wasn’t good.
She wanted to help Mamie. Being blackmailed must be awful. And Clem wasn’t really cheating. She hadn’t fixed the races with her magic, just guessed the winners. Somehow she suspected the racetrack wouldn’t agree with that hair-splitting, though.
“Mamie…”She began.
Mamie sent her an agonized look, knowing Clem was about to call a halt to the gambling. “Just one more race and I’ll have enough to pay that dickhead Trevelyan. Please .”
“Bill specifically asked me to keep a low profile.”
“This is a low profile!”
Clementine gestured to all the people around them. “Maybe compared to your dad’s famous life, but for me…”
Mamie cut her off. “You can’t just stop, when we’re so close.” Her face was pleading. “I’ll pay you back for helping me. I promise. I know it’s a lot to ask. Just pick the winner one last time. I’m begging you.”
Clementine sighed. Mamie was in real trouble. If Bill was there, he’d surely lend her a hand. He’d want Clem to help, too. He was such a generous man that it sometimes made Clem feel guilty. She’d wanted Bill, so she’d chased him until she caught him. Meanwhile, he was always thinking about others. In fact, he was mostly thinking about her .
“This is the very last time, Mamie.” She stressed, looking towards the light fantastic. “I’m trying to convince Bill that I’ll be a marvelous wife, so I’d rather not argue the semantics of crowd size on our wedding day.” It only took her a second to read the horses. “Sit-By-My-Side will win.”
His saddle was emblazoned with his name and there were fancy ribbons in his mane. She could see the pride he took in being the top horse on the track. He wouldn’t let anyone challenge his supremacy.
Mamie placed the bet, which was a mindboggling amount of money by that point. Then she stood beside Clementine, her ragged fingernails clenched tight around Clem’s arm. Hanging on for dear life. “Oh Christ, let this work.”
From the start, the race was closer than the last few had been. Sit-By-My-Side let the other horses almost catch him before dashing out ahead, again. Show off. Mamie was pale and trembling by the final stretch. All around them, the other gamblers were holding their breath, their eyes glued to the enormous thoroughbreds.
It was silly of them to worry. The winner was so obvious.
“Sit-By-My-Side takes it!” The announcer crowed over the loudspeaker. “Followed by Cloudy-All-Day and My-True-Love-For-to-See!”
For some reason, the name of the third-place horse sent a pang through Clementine’s heart. She’d never given much thought to True Love. Her parents hadn’t needed it. She didn’t either. She’d told Hank the whole idea was overrated.
But she suddenly wondered what it would be like to have Bill for her True Love. To know he didn’t just want her because she’d enticed him or to help his career, but because their souls were bound together through destiny.
Mamie didn’t care about the horses’ names or Clementine’s one-sided infatuation with her husband. She was too busy celebrating. “We did it!” She shrieked and threw her arms up in victory. “We really did it!”
The rest of the apron was euphoric, as well. Just about everyone had bet on Sit-By-My-Side. People were chortling and slapping each other’s backs. Some were ordering rounds of drinks from the hovering waiters. A few now-wealthy souls tossed their betting slips up in the air, creating ticker-tape parades of exuberant excess while they danced around.
It was nice that Clem had made them all so excited. But now she was convinced things were edging into downright high profile. It would probably be a very smart idea if she got out of there. She edged back a step.
And ran right into the grizzly security guard.
Uh oh.
Clem tilted her head allllll the way back, so she could see the immense man looming directly behind her. Real live bears were not nearly as cute as her stuffed toy Mr. Pandy.
“Hi.” She said, automatically trying to be friendly.
The bear didn’t smile back. He had an unkempt brown beard that blended in perfectly with his unkempt brown fur and unkempt brown ponytail. A battered trapper hat was pulled down close to the bear’s skull. Bill had a point about the impracticality of the wintery-style, when Red River Valley was blistering hot every day of the year.
“What magic are you using to fix the races?” Wearing a flannel shirt and denim overalls, the bear reminded her of the surly prospectors who had worked with her dad at his mine. They hadn’t liked her much either.
“No magic. Honest. I’m a muse. Our powers don’t work like that. We just sense creative possibilities and inspire artists to…” Her words ended in a surprised squeak, as he spun her around to face him.
“What magic are you using to fix the races?” He asked again, this time in a more threatening voice. His thick fingers bit into her shoulder.
By that point, everyone else in the apron had hurried off to collect their winnings. Even Mamie had fled, leaving Clementine to face the fallout alone.
She swallowed. “I can sense which horses are going to perform well. That’s all. Athletics are a type of art. Don’t you think so?”
He didn’t think so. She could tell by his thunderous expression. He leaned in closer to her, like he was ready to escalate his interrogation. His breath smelled like liquor and salmon. “What magic are you using to fix the…?”
This time he was the one interrupted.
“Get away from my wife.” Bill’s voice commanded. “ Now .”
The bear didn’t get away from her, but he did take his hand off of her arm. “This girl belongs to you.” He glanced at Clementine. “You belong to a coyote?”
“You’re goddamn right she does.” Bill snapped before she could answer.
Clem looked over her shoulder and saw Bill striding right towards her, a furious expression on his face. “Honey, I can explain this.” She promised, before he got the wrong idea and thought she was talking to a stranger. Which she was , but only because the bear had talked to her first.
“Oh, I’m sure you can, darlin’.”
The bear ignored her entirely. He towered over Bill, but he seemed braced for a fight. “Your wife is cheating these races.”
“I don’t give a shit.” Bill decided without slowing down.
“Of course you don’t care about her fraud.” The bear jeered. “You’re thieving kind only has women because you steal them.”
Bill got right between the security guard and Clem. “Back the fuck up , teddy.”
Oh, he probably shouldn’t have called him “teddy.” It wasn’t a slur, of course. It just sounded so cute . The nickname inevitably led to tantrums, because bears didn’t like being thought of as cute. But then coyotes surely didn’t like being called thieves and Clem didn’t much like being called a cheater.
Obviously, things were getting heated.
“Why don’t we all just take a breath and…”
The bear swung at Bill with a half-transformed paw. Ginormous claws sliced at his face, trying to rip off skin and bone. See? Tantrum.
Bill was already moving out of his way. He didn’t bother to shift into a coyote. His fist snaked out, slamming into the bear’s crotch. Hard. Like really hard. Hard enough to break something that should not be broken. Hard enough to drop the other man to the ground, screaming in agonizing pain.
Clementine winced. “Oh Bill! Please be careful of your fingers!”
Bill leaned over the bear, looking pissed. “You’re stressing out my wife on our first date, you ignorant ass.”
The bear didn’t answer. He was too busy rolling in the dirt, hugging his privates and crying.
Bill’s eyes swung back to Clem, scanning her for injuries. “You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She touched his arm. “I’m not stressed. Really. I’m just so sorry about this misunderstanding. He refused to believe that I can predict the race’s outcomes based on the horses’ energy.”
Bill stared down at her, breathing hard and his eyebrows climbing. “Your magic knows which horse is gonna win?” He translated incredulously.
“It’s so easy! I just helped Mamie O’Rourke earn a lot of money.”
“Did you win us any money?”
Clem opened her mouth. Then, closed it again. “Crap. You’re right. I probably should have done that.”