Monday

June 12th

Gideon woke up Monday morning, went out to his kitchen, made himself a cup of instant coffee, looked at his counter and realized he had a problem. Or a conundrum as Ted would call it. Conundrum was a fine word and Gideon was determined to remember it. The bag of chocolate covered pretzels, extra salt, lay on top of the counter with the sun hitting the red ribbon bow holding the top shut. He didn’t know how to give them to Savannah.

This wasn’t a problem as bad as the problem of her not knowing his name and calling him Prospect all the time. However, it still was something of a problem in Gideon’s mind. He didn’t want to give Savannah the wrong idea. The wrong idea being that he was romantically interested in her. Because, he wasn’t romantically interested in her.

Oh, he was interested in getting to know Savannah. He really wasn’t going to have much choice in the matter. However, he wasn’t romantically interested in anyone at this point in time and he wasn’t ready to look either. And the bag with the little red ribbon at the top could give all sorts of wrong signals to Savannah and any female around her.

He didn’t want to straight up and give it to her. He couldn’t hold onto it either because he didn’t want the chocolate to go stale either. He needed to give it to her without giving it to her. In an oblique, roundabout way that made sense to him, not that he had any clue how to go about it.

This problem was his own damn fault. He’d opened his mouth because he disliked being predictable. The cashier was definitely way too good at her job. It wasn’t like he could politely refuse her once she’d turned around and gotten precisely what Savannah would like. While he could eat them himself, it went against the grain of the gift.

And he had an uneasy feeling that the cashier would mention it to Flossie and probably outright ask Savannah if she’d received the chocolates. Holding onto them wasn’t an option due to gossip.

There were too many females in this town. He didn’t know who they all were by name yet. He didn’t know whom they were related to, who they were friends with, who they were dating or not dating, and who was interested in them and where they all fit in the social ladder. And until he knew all of these things, he wasn’t ready to commit to dating anyone. Or hint that he was interested in dating anyone, including Savannah, who he was spending a bulk amount of his time with due to the fact she was sponsoring him into the Club.

The downside to that was that the other girls might think he was romantically interested in Savannah if he gave Savannah treats such as chocolate covered pretzels, extra salt. And they might look elsewhere before he was ready to make a move on them. The upside of this was that Savannah’s reputation, whatever it was and such as it was, was keeping the rest of the overly interested and energetic, pushy females away from him.

That deserved a treat right there in his opinion. Hunter shouldn’t be the only one to benefit from his gratitude. Gideon meditatively drank his coffee and stared at the package of pretzels.

He should be able to give it to her out and out. She’d given him chocolate earlier. He should be able to return the favor without questions asked. However, her gift had felt more like a reward for good behavior. These chocolates didn’t fit that mold either.

He still didn’t want to have to explain all of this to Savannah because that would be awkward. He didn’t want her to get the idea that he wasn’t romantically interested in her and was using her as a shield from the others either. He didn’t know. Maybe he would become romantically interested in her. She was awfully cute and he could tuck her under his chin and a fair amount of the time she smelled like peaches.

He should be able to give them to her. Yesterday, after the attack, she’d stood up for him. He couldn’t believe that Cole would accuse him of being a spy. He had no idea where Cole had gotten the impression Gideon could be a spy. He wouldn’t tell anyone where Savannah lived. She was his. He wouldn’t put her in danger.

Gideon’s mind screeched to a halt as he went over to what he’d thought. His eyes widened and he took a step back until his behind hit the island between the kitchen and the living room. He’d said that yesterday.

He’d said Savannah was his.

Gideon felt his throat close up and he whimpered. He hadn’t meant that. Had he? She wasn’t his, she wasn’t. He didn’t want to think about what that meant in entirety. He’d been close to losing control yesterday and giving over to the wolf inside him. Savannah had been in danger. His heart pounded. She was his sponsor, that’s all she was. That’s all he’d meant.

His pounding heart told him it wasn’t but he wanted to deny it. He whimpered. Had she heard him? She hadn’t said anything about it. Oh. He hoped she hadn’t heard him.

Cole had accused her of being attracted to him. She hadn’t confirmed it. She hadn’t denied it either and there were all those little blushes.

Damn it. He needed to give her the chocolate and hope and pray that she either didn’t figure out it was him or that she hadn’t heard him high handedly claim her as, as, something. Gideon shied away from thinking about what he was claiming her as.

Maybe if she’d stop smelling good.

He sighed and drained the coffee mug, chewing on the left over, refused to melt, coffee granules. He grimaced and decided that he’d check at the Clark’s first to see if the Club was providing breakfast and if they weren’t. He’d head over to the diner and get breakfast there. Decided, he rinsed out the coffee mug. He went, got his kutte, and snatched the chocolates on the way out.

He’d get rid of them somehow.

--

Gideon crouched on the roof and hammered a nail into the wood, a bunch of nails sticking out of his mouth. He saw a shadow and stopped hammering, glancing up.

Savannah wrinkled her nose at him and offered him a thing of water. “Hunter wants your help this afternoon,” she said. It was an excuse to get Gideon over to the Club, but he didn’t have to know that.

He nodded and took the nails out his mouth with his fingers. “I can do that.” He accepted the water. “You think she’ll let me touch the rest of the armory yet?”

“Give her a couple of months.” Savannah’s tone dropped. “See if she’ll trust you.”

Gideon snorted and took a drink. His eyes narrowed. Savannah wasn’t wearing her kutte. He sipped on the water again. Granted, he wasn’t wearing his kutte. He wasn’t wearing a shirt either. He’d submitted to sunscreen from Esme to keep Savannah from chasing him down and applying it herself. There was so much of that he was willing to stand.

“Head over after lunch,” Savannah said.

“Wouldn’t want to miss that,” he muttered. “Thanks.” He handed the water back. She took it, winked at him and moved off down the roof. He watched her go and put one of the nails back in his mouth and used his lips to move it over to one side as he thought. Savannah was never far from her kutte. She took it to church apparently. He put the rest of the nails bar one in his mouth and moved, putting them in the wood, hoping they sunk into the rafters and he wasn’t knocking out any dry wall nails in the process. If he could find it. He finished with the nails in between his lips and with a nod at the guy closest to him, he stood up, stretched, and headed down the ladder.

Savannah’s kutte wasn’t as hard to find as he thought it would be. Maybe it was the training he’d been given to get small details at a glance. He checked the roof, saw she was preoccupied still and snuck off to his auto, retrieved the chocolate and hid it in her kutte without anyone the wiser.

He went inside, used the restroom and when he came out, Clara thrust the baby at him. He snorted but accepted the boy. She pulled something out of the oven. The baby reached up and grabbed the chain of his tags wrapping them around his fingers without Gideon noticing. Clara finished and went to take her baby back and stopped and giggled as Gideon spent a few minutes untangling the chain from the baby’s fingers and claiming his tags back. He kissed the baby’s forehead and handed him back to Clara before heading back up to the rooftop.

If he had until lunch to help, he’d better get work done.

--

Savannah picked up her kutte. She was lucky that her hands weren’t full as a bag of chocolate covered pretzels fell out. She caught it by reflex and stared at it. “Frankie?” she asked.

Frankie spun around and her eyes widened.

“Who is giving me chocolate?” Savannah asked. Her heart pounded. “Did I do something?”

Frankie rolled her eyes. “No. No. Not that I know of.”

Savannah frowned at her. “That’s not helpful.”

“No one said anything to me,” Frankie said and came over closer. “As for who, I bet it’s Gideon.”

Savannah’s brow furrowed and she glanced around. Gideon was gone, like she’d told him to go after he ate. “But, he doesn’t know my favorite chocolate.” She turned and read the label. “See, extra salt.”

Frankie cocked a hip. “Someone must have told him,” she said. She wanted to roll her eyes again.

“Like who?” Savannah asked.

“Anyone could have told him if he asked. It’s not like this is a big secret.”

“Right, and since it isn’t a big secret and I highly doubt Gideon knows my favorite chocolate, it could really be anybody.”

“Anybody hasn’t given you chocolate before,” Frankie said, certain that it was Gideon.

Savannah’s heart suddenly clenched and felt like it was in pain.

Frankie continued, oblivious. “And anyways, your friends and Esme or Brand would give it to you openly. Gideon shows up and suddenly you’re getting secret chocolate gifts, it has to be him.”

Savannah frowned and rubbed her chest. “I don’t think so,” she muttered.

“Why not?” Frankie pouted. Her friend was ignoring logic.

“Because he doesn’t know my favorite chocolate, that’s why.” Savannah glowered at her. “Besides I didn’t do anything to get chocolate from Gideon.” She paused. “At least, not that I know of.”

Frankie crossed her arms. “Savvy, you don’t have to do anything. It’s a gift. A secret admirer gift who I bet is Gideon.”

“Okay, say it is Gideon, why wouldn’t he give it to me?” Savannah said.

“Why does it matter?” Frankie said. “I bet he doesn’t want you to know it’s him. Like, he wants to be your secret admirer.”

“Frankie.” Savannah rolled her eyes and flushed at the same time. “We aren’t in high school anymore. If a guy likes me, I’d rather he tell me or give me something directly instead of going through all this.” She frowned at the chocolate. “Whatever this is.”

“You could always ask him.”

“No.” Savannah’s heart started to race. She took a breath. “I don’t think so,” she added.

“Oh come on,” Frankie said. “It’s the only way you’ll know.”

“And what if it isn’t him? And if it is, I don’t want to embarrass him.” Savannah reached up and ran her hand through her hair. “Besides, like I said, it is most likely not him and you are stretching to make that conclusion.” If he didn’t know anything about it, she’d be embarrassed about asking him in the first place.

Frankie sighed. “Fine.” She paused. “Are you going to eat any?”

Savannah stuffed it into her pocket. “Not right now,” she said. “I have to get going.”

Frankie uncrossed her arms and shifted her weight back. “Already? But the day’s not half finished.”

Savannah grinned at her and winked. “I’m surprising Gideon,” she said and loped off towards her motorcycle.

Frankie stomped her foot. Savannah could be aggravating, refusing to accept Gideon as a secret admirer one minute and then saying she was going to surprise him the next. “With what?” Frankie shouted after her.

Savannah looked over her shoulder at her. “Motorcycles!” She disappeared around a corner.

Frankie put a hand to her forehead and started muttering under her breath. Motorcycles were not what you surprised men with. They were going to have to teach Savannah better things to surprise Gideon with, like kisses and sex. Frankie sighed. This was going to be difficult and she’d have to keep it from Skyler. Her sigh turned into a whimper.

--

Gideon managed to get one gun clean before Ted summoned Gideon into his office. “Have a seat,” he said and gestured at the chair across from his desk.

Gideon sat down and looked around. The walls were full of bookshelves, filled with real leather bound books rather than the electronic type that many favored. The bottom row of one bookshelf looked to all have the same binding and Gideon couldn’t figure out if they were an old encyclopedia set or something else. He drew his eyes back to Ted’s desk. It was littered with picture frames and hand written files.

Ted picked up his glasses and perched them on his nose. “Good news, pay went through today.” He arched his hands over part of his desk and a holographic keyboard appeared and a holographic square that had writing written backwards on it. Ted typed a few things and a printer started working. He turned around pulled the pages out from it.

Gideon raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know what this had to do with him.

Ted turned back around, tapped a few more keys and the whole thing disappeared. He pushed the papers across to Gideon. “And that means you have money coming to you.”

Gideon blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Go on.” Ted waved a hand at the papers.

Gideon leaned forward and took them. The top was a check and he stared at it. There were more numbers on there than he had made in the military in a year with hazard duty pay and mission complete bonuses. He looked up at Ted. “I don’t—”

“It’s your cut from that Africa job,” Ted interrupted. “And for helping out with the Clarks’ roof.”

“I got.” Gideon paused, “am getting—I’m confused.” He set the paper on his lap and rubbed his forehead. That uneasy feeling started spiraling.

Ted leaned back in his chair. “It works like this. You asked to become part of the Club and part of those papers you willingly filled out for me were employment papers to be part of Heaven Has Mercy Private Security. A corporation that is owned by the Club and you have to be part of the Club to be an employee of.” Ted tapped the desk. “Roofing and helping in the weapon’s locker and practice is work and you’ll be compensated for it.” He paused. “Unless you have a problem with rescuing folks like Dr. Brown from certain peril.”

“I don’t. But I didn’t—I wasn’t—” Gideon stared down at the check. “No one said anything.”

Ted grinned. “Don’t know if there was a real point to saying anything until the money went through. Sometimes these clients can be kind of iffy about it.”

Gideon stared at it. “That’s a lot of money, are you sure there wasn’t a mistake?”

Ted laughed. “Prospect, I did the math three times and that was after the portion to pay the doctor’s medical bills was taken out.” He folded his hands on his lap. “Now, if you read down the check, you’ll see your gross pay, your benefits, mostly insurances, life and medical, can never be too prepared and your taxes. You’ve got Jasper taxes, Colorado taxes, and on there are two Club taxes. Your dues for the next six months have been taken out for you.”

Gideon nodded, as his eyes tried not glaze over. He had a job. He could pay his bills for the next ten years if he wanted to. He could show the stub to Beda and pay his rent finally.

“The Club is taking a ten percent tax for your motorcycle. And another ten percent tax for your equipment for Heaven Has Mercy,” Ted said.

“And there’s still that much left,” Gideon said. Something deep inside him snapped and settled. The tightness in his chest relaxed and the greasy panic he’d felt about his future slid away.

“Security is a lucrative business and not everyone has a knack for the life.” Ted tapped his fingers on the back of his hands. “We’ll continue taking the taxes out until everything is paid off.”

Gideon looked up. “That’s fair.” He paused. “I didn’t know I had a job,” he muttered. He suddenly felt buoyant. He had a job and it was something he liked doing and rescuing those in need made him feel really good. He didn’t have to worry about a nine to five job unless he really wanted to.

“Now you know.” Ted tapped his foot and eyed Gideon. “Do you have any plans for all that money?” he asked.

Gideon shook his head. Not that he’d any time to form any plans since he’d gotten it less than five minutes nor had had time to look for a job. Savannah was constantly keeping him running. He’d been living off the remainder of his muster out pay and his savings. He relaxed. Now he didn’t have to do that.

“You got any hobbies or charities or anything you support?”

Gideon rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. He’d sent money home to his parents. He guessed that wasn’t really an option anymore. “I guess I’m kind of a boring person outside of the military,” he said.

Ted snorted. “We’ll work on changing that.” He leaned forward. “Listen, get yourself a few bank accounts downtown at one of the banks, a nice checking account, set aside savings, and spend a little bit of that money on yourself for a change. We can talk investing later if you want. Once you do that, you can settle up with Beda, maybe put money into that ride of yours, or if you like, you can set more money aside towards your equipment and motorcycle and pay it off faster. Hell, you can buy a ton of suckers if it pleases you.”

Gideon snickered. “I think I’ll pass.” He stood up. “Thank you, Ted.” And he meant it.

“My pleasure, now remember, if you need any financial advice, my door is ajar.” Ted paused. “If not open.”

Gideon grinned and nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Savannah pushed it open. “There you are! You have a few hours?”

“Hours?”

Savannah grabbed his arm and tugged him out the office and towards the outside door. “The answer is supposed to be yes.”

“Okay, yes.”

Savannah shoved the door open with her foot. “Good answer.” She stopped.

Gideon stared. There were several motorcycles sitting in the middle of the parking lot. “Um…”

“These are the three styles with engines at the lowest acceptable power to fit the club criteria, which if you remember from the bylaws is 1,100cc. You can upgrade to a bigger engine later if you want to but for now I thought since you were learning you didn’t need that much power. You’ll probably want to make it fancier or something and we can program the wheel lights to be whatever you want, but I wasn’t sure which style you’d like the best.”

She paused and bounced on her toes. “They should all be big enough for you. We wouldn’t want your knees hitting your chin if you tried to ride mine,” she said and winked at him. She let his arm go and bounced over. “Which one do you want to try first?” she shouted over her shoulder.

Gideon stared at her and at the bikes. He really didn’t know. He knew nothing about motorcycles. He hadn’t known where he was going to buy one. He knew that he needed to buy one. Except Savannah kept him busy with the job, and he hadn’t had the time. She’d done this for him? His throat closed up a little and his heart did something that felt like a flip-flop.

She spun around and grinned at him. Most of their prospects were the pups and they’d grown up with their eye on one bike style or another, and drawing their wheel lights in their coloring books. She didn’t know what he’d wanted and there were three body styles anyways. He could mix and match if he wanted, or change up to matte or chrome from the standard finish parts. He needed to choose a bike first.

“Sorry, you look like you’ve been hit upside the head,” she said.

He shook his head quickly. “I…” He sighed and tucked his check and the paperwork in the kutte.

“Thank you, Savannah,” she said. “That’s what you’re looking for.”

He grinned. “Thanks, Savannah.”

She bounced back over and wrapped her arm around his and tugged him forward walking backwards. “Now that you’re all rich and fanciable, any plans for your money?”

“Not yet,” he said. Settle the rent. Pay the utilities, otherwise, no. No plans.

“Have you thought about buying yourself guns?” she asked in complete seriousness.

Actually, he hadn’t, but now that she said something it didn’t sound like a bad idea. “I’ll put thought into it.”

“Because Jack-a-lope’s offers great discounts to the Club.”

Had he heard that right? “Wait, Jack-a-lope’s?” he asked.

She blinked rapidly. “Yeah, Jack-a-lope’s Pro Sports, Hunting, Fishing and Archery Supplies. Jack owns it. Lope to Jack-a-lope’s for all your gun, ammo and hunting needs.” She finished in a tone of voice that sounded like she was copying an infomercial.

“As in those bunny with the antler things I saw on the wall at Wall Drug?” Gideon asked.

“Yep,” she said. She’d have to go with him and see what he made of Jack.

“Right,” he muttered.

Savannah continued with her thought as if he hadn’t asked the other two questions. “And there’s probably going to be a gun show in the next month or two in Rapid City. We could go.”

“We?”

“You have an auto. You can buy more guns if you bring the auto.”

There was a rifle model he wouldn’t mind trying to find. He didn’t know if he would be able to. It was a sentimental thing. He’d given the one he had to his younger brother. It’d felt right. “Uh huh. Are you trying to start a war?” he asked. The girl was obsessed with weapons.

“And you’ll need a safe.” Savannah dropped his arm. “So…”

“So what?”

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “Are you going to try them or not? We’ll start out slow. I promise.” She pretended to pout.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “How many roosters can you put on that lip?” he asked.

Savannah stuck her bottom lip back in. “What?”

“Something my mother used to say,” he said.

She pursed her lips again and narrowed her eyes at him. “Gideon. It is not polite to mention roosters and my lips in the same sentence.”

He grinned.

She looked at him. “You’re stalling. You have no idea how to go about this.”

“I really don’t,” he said. He had a good idea on how to get on a motorcycle. He enjoyed getting her going.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?”

“Once or twice.”

“It’s like getting on a horse.”

“At a fair, when I was shorter than you and my father picked me up.”

Savannah stared at him, rolled her eyes, and sighed looking upwards. “It isn’t that hard,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t have to show him. The bikes she’d chosen for him were too big for her. By the time she looked down, Gideon had mounted the nearest bike.

“No. It really isn’t,” he said and reached up for the handles.

She narrowed her eyes to slits and glared at him. How did he do that? He opened his mouth and talked, and she let him get her all riled up and, “You can be incredibly annoying.”

He grinned at her, reached into his kutte, and handed her a lollipop.

She stared at it. It was green apple, her favorite flavor. She reached out and snatched it from his fingers. “Smart ass,” she muttered and unwrapped it. She stuck it in her mouth.

Gideon bounced up and down on the seat and held onto the handlebars. “What am I looking for here?” he asked.

Savannah shrugged a shoulder. “If you like it or not. The handlebars are adjustable to a degree. If you like the look or the ride of it but don’t like the handlebars we can move them up or down a bit for you.”

Gideon scanned the handlebars and the gauges as he pulled out a lollipop for himself. He really didn’t know what he was looking it. Savannah came around, straddled the wheel cage and leaned against the handlebars. He looked up and caught a glimpse of her cleavage and hurriedly dropped his eyes.

“This is your front brake,” She tapped the right handlebar where a squeeze handle stuck out, “squeeze to activate, turn the right handlebar gently towards you to accelerate, and over here is the clutch.” She tapped the left handlebar where yet another squeeze handle stuck outwards.” Your left foot has the shifter and your right foot is the rear brake, use when you have no traction or are going slowly.”

“Was this built to be confusing or did it just happen that way?”

“You think it’s confusing because you aren’t used to it yet.”

Gideon sucked on his lollipop and shifted his weight trying to get a feel for it.

“You want to try turning it on?” Savannah asked.

“Aren’t you in a bad spot for that?”

“Pbtth, I’ll move,” she said. “Okay, kick up the stand by rocking forward a little bit.”

Gideon raised an eyebrow.

“It won’t start with the kickstand down, safety feature.”

Gideon’s eyebrow didn’t move.

Savannah sighed and moved away from the front of the bike. She came around and sat down on his lap. “Spoilsport,” she said. “Put the kickstand up.”

Gideon stared down at the top of her head. She couldn’t be serious.

She poked his thigh. “Gideon! Sometime before we grow old.”

Gideon rolled his eyes and rocked the bike forward enough to put up the kickstand. Savannah tilted her head out of his way and started showing him how to start the bike, while he struggled to pay attention to her words over the scent of her perfume or he assumed it was perfume, it didn’t have the alcohol base he was used to and the fact if he looked at the right angle he could see down her tank top.

He forced himself to focus at least a little bit. Or else it would be a long afternoon.

--

Brand leaned against the windowsill. He sucked on a butterscotch candy. The sill pressed into his forearms as his nose almost touched the glass. He shook his head as Savannah sat in Gideon’s lap and presumably went over all the switches, buttons, dials and gauges with him.

She walked him through starting the motorcycle, the anti-gravity casings opening and turning over as he turned the engine on turning into shields to protect him from the hover field. The wheel stands didn’t retract until the casings were fully turned over. The bike hovered in the air. The holographic lights hadn’t been programmed into the field yet and it looked like it was floating on nothing.

Savannah hopped off his lap and picked up the helmet she’d put on one of the other bike’s seat. She handed it to him and he put it on.

Brand grinned.

Savannah talked him through the essentials of riding as far as Brand could tell, accelerating, decelerating, shifting, braking, stopping, parking and restarting again. She let him make a few slow laps around the parking lot, jogging along beside him.

Gideon stopped the bike, put the kickstand down and turned it off before getting off of it and getting on one of the other ones.

Ted came over and leaned against the side of the window to watch. “He’s not doing bad,” he said.

Brand watched Gideon ride around the lot again, getting more sure the more he drove. “He’s still a pup,” he said and crunched on the thin disk of butterscotch that was left in his mouth by accident.

“Yeah, but now he’s our pup.” Ted shifted his feet. “We’ve got milk runs coming up.”

Brand looked over at him and looked back out the window. Gideon was on the third bike and it was hard to tell with the helmet but Brand thought he was grinning. He shook his head. “Why don’t we go into the office and tell me about them?”

Ted slapped him on the shoulder. “She’s got him in hand.”

“Does that worry anyone?” Brand asked and stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a new candy.

“It should, if they were smart enough.”

Brand chuckled, sticking the butterscotch in his mouth as he and Ted walked away. Ted was correct. Savannah had Gideon in hand and there was one problem somewhat sorted. The problems though were never ending and he needed to focus on another one. There was business to be done.

--

Gideon sat down on the third bike and put his hands on the handlebars and by inner alchemy or a gut feeling knew this bike was the one for him. It felt right. He bounced on the seat a few times and then reviewed everything Savannah had told him and turned it on.

Savannah tensed a little.

He shifted it into first and drove it slowly around the parking lot. He didn’t know exactly what was different about the bike, but there was something different about the ride. He shifted it into second and sped up.

“Gideon!” Savannah shouted.

He grinned. He could feel the wind a little now. He drove around in a faster circle one more time and slowed it down and stopped in front of Savannah. She glared at him. He shut it down, pulled the helmet off and laughed at her expression.

“You’re supposed to be going slowly! Argh!” She put her hands on her hips.

He grinned at her. “I think I like this one.”

She slapped a hand to her forehead. He was a beginner. “You scared me!”

He lowered his eyelashes. “I’m sorry. If I’m good, may I go faster?”

Her shoulders dropped and she sighed and dropped her hand to look at him. A grin tugged on her lips. She cocked her hips. “If you’re good?” she said. She lowered her own lashes. “Can you do that?”

“I suppose.” He pouted.

She grinned, bounced over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Now you’re a proper Heathen,” she said. “Bike and all.”

Gideon blinked.

She let him go as quickly as she’d grabbed him. “I’ll get these two bikes out of your way and you practice driving slowly around the parking lot,” she said over her shoulder.

Gideon stared at her back and the crazy crescent moon embroidered there. If he tilted his head right, he almost swore that the moon winked at him.