Love in Season

by Thibodeaux, Pamela S. ;

  Laurel turned, her eyes wide with apprehension as the wind howled around them. “What are we going to do?”

  Lorelei brushed a hand over her daughter’s hair. “As soon as the rain slacks off we’ll go home.”

  An SUV pulled into the drive and stopped alongside her car. They watched a man disembark, pull a jacket over his head and run toward them. He hurled up the steps and skidded to a stop just shy of knocking them down. He muttered an apology, stripped off the jacket and shook it out while glancing in their direction. Surprise widened his eyes.

  “Laurel, Ms. Connor. What are you two doing here?”

  Before either could answer, thunder shattered the atmosphere like a blast of gunshot and lightning split the sky like a knife ripping through silk. Both shrieked. Laurel all but jumped in her mother’s arms.

  Carson felt a charge in the atmosphere. Electrical pulses pricked his spirit. Apprehension stiffened his spine. He noticed the hint of fear deep within Lorelei’s gaze. “What is it?”

  She blinked then frowned.

  “What’s what?”

  “Something’s wrong. I can feel it. What happened? Are you OK?”

  “Nothing happened. The clap of thunder caught me off guard is all, I’m fine.”

  Carson reined in his emotions as the chaos around them increased. The wind wailed with an eerie moan, rain pounded the earth in angry torrents. Lightning struck again followed by a loud crash as a tree grumbled and groaned, and then fell across both of their vehicles. A black streak ran up the trunk, smoke curled in the air and the branches were in flames.

  “Oh, God, my car!”

  “Mom!” Laurel screamed, as Lorelei lunged toward the steps.

  Carson caught her around the waist. “Lorelei, stop, we need to call nine-one-one!”

  She struggled a moment, her eyes wide with terror, panic etched in every feature. Then she glanced at Laurel, who quaked with fear as the elements continued to rage. She took a deep breath and stepped over to embrace her daughter.

  Carson dug his house key out of his pocket, unlocked the door and walked inside.

  “Where are you going?” Laurel cried. “Please don’t leave us out here all alone!”

  He turned to reassure her, but Lorelei took the hysterical child’s face in her hands and gave her a slight shake.

  “It’s OK, Laurel, look at me.”

  Carson moved to where they stood. “I’m just going to call nine-one-one and get the camera. I’ll be right out. Would you two like to come inside?” He waited until they crossed the threshold then followed them in and called the emergency number to report the incident.

  “What do you need a camera for?” Laurel asked when he hung up the phone.

  “We’ll need pictures to file insurance claims on the cars.” He turned to Lorelei. “You do have insurance, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He walked into another room, fetched his digital camera then went back out on the porch and began taking pictures.

  Laurel turned a turbulent gaze toward her mother.

  “Isn’t it dangerous for him to be doing that with all the lightening going on out there?”

  Before Lorelei could respond, thunder boomed.

  Laurel yelped and clung, sobs shaking her shoulders once more.

  Lorelei wrapped her arms around her daughter and stroked her hair in a soothing gesture. “Sounds like the storm is lessening and moving away. Listen…one Mississippi, two Mississippi.”

  Laurel quieted, and then counted the seconds with her mother to see how far the thunder and lightning had traveled, their voices barely above a whisper…”Three Mississippi, four Mississippi.”

  Four miles.

  The next clap echoed from even further across the distance. The wind died down a notch. The rain slowed to a steady patter on the metal roof. Thunder rumbled again, yet even farther away this time. Sirens rent the air. They moved to the window and watched as volunteer fire fighters, followed by the Sheriff, filled the yard. Once they extinguished the flames, Carson and three firemen heaved the tree off of the vehicles and rolled it out of the drive. Assured none of them were physically hurt, the people disappeared as fast as they had gathered.

  “I’m going to go see how bad things are,” Lorelei said, and hurried outside. She grabbed the towel she’d used earlier and walked toward Carson, who braced himself against the hood of his SUV, covered in sweat and grime.

  She reached his side and offered him a towel. Emotions roiled in her gut. They could have been in that car!

  Tears filled her eyes, rolled down her cheeks. “What am I going to do now? That car is all I own in this world.”

  Carson heaved a sigh and brushed the cloth over his face. “I imagine we’ll both need to call our insurance companies and then try to rent a car.” He handed the towel back to her. “May I ask what you’re doing here in the first place?”

  She dried her eyes. “Mr. Flaven hired me to landscape your yard. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “He told me he’d hired someone, but not who. Now I understand why I saw evidence of work done, but never anyone working. You must come during school hours only.”

  Laurel’s voice trembled behind them before she could respond. “Mom?”

  Lorelei pulled her daughter close.

  Carson smiled at the child. “I missed you in class today, Laurel.”

  “I wasn’t feeling well so mom let me stay with her.”

  “Well, I hope it was nothing serious. Why don’t we all go back inside and make those phone calls? We’re not going anywhere soon in either of these vehicles.”

  They walked back toward the house as the storm limped away, its fury spent.

  Carson indicated the duffle bags on the porch. “I’m assuming these are yours?”

  Lorelei nodded. “I grabbed them when the weather turned real nasty.”

  The moment he touched them his blood began to pound, vision blurred. Familiar sensations crawled up his spine. He tamped down on the beast within and lifted the bags. “You must have been a Girl Scout, always prepared.”

  A wary look crossed her face. Lorelei shrugged and averted her gaze.

  “I learned when Laurel was a baby to keep a packed bag in the car.”

  Instinct and the way she avoided his eyes told Carson there was more to the story than that, but he bit back on his questions. He followed them into the house and called his insurance company while Lorelei and Laurel showered and changed into dry clothes. He cleaned up while she phoned her insurance company then looked up the number to the only rental agency listed in the local phone directory. He dialed the number, surprised when someone actually answered, considering it was after five o’clock on a Friday afternoon.

  “Rick’s Rides.”

  “Yes, I need to speak to Rick about renting a couple of vehicles.”

  “Sorry but Rick is out of town. His twin sister Ruth had to have an emergency appendectomy and he needed to help his brother-in-law harvest the crops, so I’m pretty sure he won’t be back until Monday. Besides we only have three cars and two of them are out for the weekend. I can let you rent the one we have left if you can get here before six.”

  Carson glanced at his watch—five forty-five. “You don’t pick up?”

  She huffed a sigh. “No. We don’t.”

  Her tone reeked attitude. Heat rose in his veins. “Can you recommend another agency?”

  “There’s several over in Nashville.”

  His hand tightened on the receiver at the exasperation in her voice. He clenched his teeth and strove to keep a civil tongue. “Nashville is a half-hour away and I have no way to get there.”

  “Well, there might be one that picks you up,” she quipped, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  He managed to mutter, “thank you,” before slamming the phone back in its cradle.

  He turned to Lorelei. “Looks like having a packed bag in the car is a pretty smart move. You might be stuck here for the night, or until Monday. Unless a
car company in Nashville will drive out to pick us up—which I doubt they’ll do this late. But maybe we can get a ride there tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry we’re such an imposition.”

  Heat suffused his face, he shook his head. “You’re not an imposition and I’m not frustrated at you, but the brat on the other end of the phone line. Trust me, I’ll have a talk with Rick of ‘Rick’s Rides’ when he returns. Don’t know how the man stays in business with someone like that handling things while he’s away.”

  He pulled a larger phone book out of the drawer and looked up the number to the car rental closest to them. That call confirmed his prediction. The company would drive out, but not until the next day.

  “Well, what would you ladies like for dinner? I’m thinking spaghetti.”

  Laurel whooped. “I love spaghetti!”

  Lorelei chuckled. “Any and every kind. This child would live off that dish alone if I let her.”

  Carson laughed and slid his arm through Laurel’s, and then offered Lorelei his other arm. Slivers of delight coiled through him when she accepted. “My sentiments exactly, spaghetti it is, then. Of course there are the makings of a nice green salad. And if you have room for dessert we can mix up and bake a batch of brownies. I have whipped topping or ice cream to go with them.”

  An appreciative hum escaped both females. He led the way into the kitchen and waved them to a seat. The three of them chatted while he prepared the meal. When Lorelei offered, he enlisted their help in setting the table and pouring drinks. Tension slithered up his spine when, seated once more, each took one of his hands then bowed their heads and said grace.

  “You don’t say grace?” Laurel asked.

  Her mother shushed her. “Don’t be rude, Laurel. Some people aren’t comfortable enough with God to say grace at every meal.”

  Laurel frowned. “But you always said being grateful for food is the least we can do to show appreciation for God’s blessing and provision in our life.”

  “It’s OK,” Carson interrupted before Lorelei could correct her daughter again. “I don’t say grace as often as I should, Laurel. Thank you for reminding me.” He turned to Lorelei.

  “So, you believe there’s actually hope for my pathetic yard?” Her smile took his breath away.

  “No place is hopeless. If you’d like we can walk around after dinner and I’ll explain what I plan to do.”

  “Sounds great. I’d love to hear your ideas. What about you and Laurel, what does the future hold for you two?”

  Laurel’s snort cut off her mother’s reply. “I just wish we would settle in one place for longer than a school year.”

  Lorelei’s cool, measured look stopped further comments from her daughter. Awkward silence ensued. Carson scrambled for something to say to ease the friction that sprang up between his guests.

  “So, Laurel, how do you like the spaghetti?”

  Her face lit up, eyes danced. “There’s something different in the way yours tastes, an odd but delicious flavor I haven’t had before. What did you add that others don’t?”

  He grinned. “Old family recipe, classified. If I told you, then I’d have to kill you.”

  She giggled and his spirit leapt at the sound. Impressions swarmed his subconscious, anguish pricked his heart. Moisture filled his gaze. She doesn’t laugh as a child should.

  He took a deep breath and excused himself. In the kitchen, he banged around while retrieving the items needed for dessert.

  “Lord, what are You showing me here? What is going on?”

  A vision of green eyes wrought with pain, underscored with fear and swimming with tears filled his mind. But why? He hoped to find the answer in ample time to prevent the tragedy he sensed lurking on the horizon.

  After dinner and dessert, Carson made the bed in the spare room while Lorelei and Laurel cleaned the kitchen. He settled Laurel in front of the television and handed her the remote then he and Lorelei walked outside.

  “Looks like you achieved quite a bit already.”

  She nodded. “Most of the grunt work is done, for the time being. The barrels of wildflowers will sit beside the door.” She pointed to an area beneath his living room window.

  “Instead of flowers there too, you’ll have a rock garden with a couple of shrubs. A stone walkway will lead up to the porch steps. I’ll build the outlines for both next week and, if possible, start the placement of stones. I’ll pick up shrubs and transplant them later in the week. If the weather continues to hold out, I should finish the front within another week, two at the most. I’ll start cultivating the back after that.” She walked around the house, describing the work in store.

  Carson tried to envision the end result of her landscape design, but found he could hear nothing but the sound of her voice as it feathered over him, curling through his senses like a caress. Nor could he see past her animated features and the way her eyes lit up when she spoke.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “Beautiful,” he whispered. He caressed her cheek, brushed his thumb across the soft curve of flesh. When she didn’t bolt, he urged her closer and cupped her face in both hands, marveling at the texture of ivory skin beneath his fingers. Emotions swarmed his heart and filled his spirit with light and color. Blood thundered through his veins. His mouth hovered over hers. A wary look flashed in her eyes, she stiffened and took a step back.

  Carson felt the separation as acutely as he would a knife to the heart. He was shocked at his slide into sensuality – he barely knew the woman! She must think he was one of those men who looked for casual sex everywhere. But he wasn’t. Never had been, even as a teen. He’d always been too wary, too cautious. Why had he felt that soul-deep connection that made his body think she belonged to him? What was his heart trying to tell him?

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I just can’t.”

  He cocked his head, disoriented between his mixed emotions and the wary fear lurking deep within her emerald gaze. “Can’t what?”

  “Get involved with you.”

  “One kiss doesn’t constitute involvement.”

  She turned on her heel and hurried into the house.

  He watched her flee. Eerie sensations shivered over him. He hesitated, struggled against the onslaught then let the visions come. Nothing concrete, only images of violence, fear and desperation.

  Exhausted, he retired to his room and stretched out on the bed. Fueled by dreams, sleep eluded him. A noise sounded from the kitchen. He jerked upright and glanced at the clock—after midnight. Rising, he went to investigate, surprised to find Lorelei puttering around. The sight of her sent his imagination into a tailspin. He watched a moment, his senses heightened, awareness tuned to the slightest change in environment. “Are you OK?”

  She jumped at the sound of his voice. “Oh! I didn’t hear you. Did I disturb you? I tried to be quiet.”

  He reached a hand to steady her. “You didn’t disturb me, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

  A strained smile tilted the corners of her mouth, her eyes filled with anxiety. Tears threatened. Carson reached out and stroked her hair, his touch gentle and meant to soothe.

  A hint of warmth flickered in her eyes. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her cheek against his heart. When she pulled away, he let go.

  His surprise was soul-deep. Was she feeling the connection, too?

  “I’m undecided if I want a cup of tea or hot chocolate, what do you think?”

  He smiled down at her. “Chocolate sounds wonderful. Laurel fast asleep?”

  She chuckled. “That child slumbers like the comatose through just about anything.”

  He laughed. “My nieces, nephews, and younger siblings, can too. One of the blessings of youth, I guess.”

  She found one of his saucepans and poured milk into it. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

  He retrieved the cocoa and handed it to her. “There are eight of us, total. I’m the oldest boy, but have three ol
der sisters and four younger brothers.”

  She stirred in chocolate. “Wow, must be nice to come from such a large family. I’m an only child, orphaned at seventeen.

  She tested the temperature of the milk with her finger. An innocent gesture on her part, but it had the same effect on him as a kick to the solar plexus. He swallowed hard and tried to focus on the conversation at hand. “Sorry to hear that. What happened?”

  Emotions clouded her gaze. “Drunk driver.”

  He took two mugs out of the cabinet and placed them on the counter. She filled them with the warm brew. She handed him one, their hands brushed. Awareness tingled between them. His mind careened with images of fear and desperation overshadowed by violence. His eyes narrowed, breath heaved out in ragged pants. Sweat popped out on his forehead and upper lip.

  “Carson, are you all right?”

  Her voice, rippled with tension, rang in his ears.

  “He’s close.”

  She hissed in a sharp breath. “What? Who’s close?”

  He shook his head, swallowed hard. He scraped the heels of his hands over his eyes and down his face, felt the blood drain from his features.

  “Your ex-husband, was he abusive to you, brutal?”

  She frowned. “How do you know this?”

  “He’s deranged. You and Laurel are in danger this time.”

  She whirled away. “OK, now I’m freaked. How do you know these things?”

  Carson saw the fear on her face and took a mental and physical step back. God help me reach her. Make her understand!

  Although she’d stepped back, she hadn’t run. Did she have some experience with his talent? He grasped the counter behind him, locked gazes with her and prepared for the usual reaction to his next words. “Do you believe in prophetic or psychic abilities?”

  A kaleidoscope of emotions clouded her eyes– a hint of fear and a glimmer of doubt, both shadowed by a tinge of mockery. She looked at him for a long, tense moment then took a deep breath.

  “The media is bombarded with so called prophets and psychics.”