Mirabile Read Online Free Page A

surprising than white, though. Almost hidden in the deep shade was a small isolated patch of scarlet.
    For the life of me, I couldn’t remember seeing any material on scarlet violets. I stooped for a closer look. Damned odd texture to the petals, too, like velvet.
    “Pretty, aren’t they?” Leo said. “Stop by my place while you’re here, and I’ll show you half an acre of them.”
    I stood up to look him in the eye. “Popped up all at once? First time, this year?”
    “No. I’ve been putting them in when I found them for, oh, three years now.”
    “Oh, Leo. Half of Mirabile thinks everything’s going to sprout fangs and bite them and the other half doesn’t even take elementary precautions. Never ever transplant something red unless somebody’s done a workup on it first!”
    He looked startled. “Are they dangerous?”
    “Don’t you start!” Dammit, I’d done it—jumped on him with both feet. “Sorry.
    I’m still fuming over those red daffodils, I guess.”
    “Annie, I’m too damned old to worry about everything that flowers red. I took them for what my grandmother called ‘pansies.’ Much to her disappointment, she never could get any started on Mirabile. Maybe they aren’t, but that’s how I think of them. I’m going to hate it if you tell me I have to pull ’em out because they’re about to seed mosquitoes.”
    And he’d never forgive me either, I could tell.
    “We’ll get a sample on the way back, Leo. If there’s a problem, I’ll see if I can stabilize them for you.” He looked so surprised, I had to add, “Practical is not my only consideration. Never has been. ‘Pretty’ is just fine, provided I’ve got the time to spare.”

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    That satisfied him. He smiled all the way down to the edge of the water.
    Two hands made light work of launching a boat and we paddled across to the sheltered cove I had always favored. I tied the boat to a low branch that overhung the water, dropped a naked hook into the loch, and leaned back. Leo did the same.
    What I liked best about this spot, I think, was that it was the perfect view of the otters’
    playground—without disturbing the play. It also meant I didn’t have to bring along treats for the little beggars. Susan had been feeding them since she was—oh—Jen’s age. They’d grown so used to it that they hustled the tourists now.
    I didn’t believe in it myself, but as long as she didn’t overdo it to the point they couldn’t fend for themselves I wasn’t about to make a fuss. I think Susan knew that too. She had a better grasp of the principles than most adults I knew, aside from those on the team, of course.
    The hillside and water were alive with the antics of the otters. Some rippled snake-like through the water. One chased one of those king-sized dragonflies. Two others tussled on the ridge and eventually threw themselves down the incline, tumbling over and over each other, to hit the water with a splash.
    Leo touched my arm and pointed a little to the side. He was frowning. I turned to take it in and discovered there was an altercation going on, just below the surface of the water. This one was of a more serious nature.
    “Odd,” I said, speaking aloud for the first time since we’d settled in. He nodded, and we both kept watching but there wasn’t anything to see except the occasional flick of a long muscular tail, the wild splash of water. A squeal of anger was followed by a squeal of distress and the combatants broke off, one of them hightailing it towards us.
    I got only a glimpse as it passed us by but it seemed to me it was considerably bigger than its opponent. Biggest otter I’d seen, in fact. I wondered why it had run instead of the smaller one.
    The smaller one was already back at play. Leo shrugged and grinned. “I thought mating season was over,” he said. “So did she, considering how she treated him.”
    “Ah,” I said, “I missed the opening moves.”
    We settled back again, nothing to perturb us