by Louise Bay
“Right,” Brianna said, standing up and clapping her hands together. “Tonight we have a very special visitor. Big John is a proud Christie resident, lived here all his life, but his ancestors are from Mongolia and the men in his family, going back generations, have all been shamans. However much Bettie Green might deny it, there’s no one in our town who hasn’t gone to Big John at some point to look for answers.” Brianna raised her eyebrows and put her hand on her hip. “Big John is going to summon your ancestors and together they’re going to help you find the future men in your life.”
Just another Sunday night in Christie.
John stood and the thumping of his drum got louder as did his chanting, which buzzed through the air. He started to move, from foot to foot, his head nodding from side to side as he stared skyward. Everyone was still, all eyes on John. Only the crack and pop of the fire dared to make a sound.
Suddenly the chanting and the drum beats stopped, and John shut his eyes and bowed deeply before standing straight and pointing sharply in the direction of the girls.
“Go to him,” Brianna said to Rose.
She stood, glanced back at her friends and tentatively moved toward John.
John’s eyes were closed, even as his hand stretched toward Rose.
“Brother,” he whispered.
Mackenzie’s eyes were wide as she looked between John and Rose. I wanted to slide my arm around her and pull her close.
John started to hum again, more quietly than before, almost as if he were talking to the fire. Looking past Rose, he drew his brows together and squinted as if he were trying to bring something into focus.
“Young and strong. So sudden.” Shaking his head, John glanced at Rose, pity in his eyes.
I watched Rose, whose tear-filled eyes reflected the fear that John’s understanding provoked in first timers. It was unnerving to have the most personal parts of you revealed to a stranger. I’d known John all my life and even our conversation tonight had unsettled me. Did he know of my dilemma, had the spirits told him? Or did he just know me?
John shut his eyes and mumbled; it sounded as if he were talking in another language. I’d always assumed he was simply bilingual but now, listening as an adult, the words were punctuated by clicks and jaw movements I’d never noticed before. I wasn’t sure if it was a language or a reaction to the spirit.
John opened his eyes and stepped toward Rose. He towered above her and then crouched and shifted sharply from side to side and up and down as if he were trying to capture every angle of her. Slowly, he moved around her, his feet stomping into the dirt so hard I felt the vibrations of the earth yards away. When he’d come full circle, he stood straight and began to nod, his movements getting bigger and bigger.
Rose wrapped her arms around her waist, as if trying to protect herself, and her eyes grew wide. They looked at each other for a second before John grabbed her chin and shouted love before going back to nodding and thumping his drum. “He’s coming; he’s coming soon. Very soon. And it won’t be an accident. Very strange. A forced circumstance. You’ll know.”
And with that he sat down and stared into the fire.
Rose frowned as Brianna guided her back to her seat. “It can seem a little confusing, but this is a good thing. Your brother sent you the man you’ll spend the rest of your life with and it sounds like you’ll be getting to know him sooner rather than later. Is that right, John?”
John nodded. “And you don’t have to look. He’ll come to you. In a familiar place.”
Rose began to grin as she turned to her friends.
A twinge bloomed in my gut as I glanced at Mackenzie. She was about to be sent the love of her life. I wasn’t sure I was entirely happy with that idea. I’d known her just a couple of days and we came from completely different worlds, but I liked her. I felt as if I knew her better than I should after such a short period of time, most of which had been spent naked. I loved her spirit, her naïvety, her willingness to give herself to me. It seemed so easy with her. There was no pressure, no expectation. It felt so honest. I guess that was because we knew that both of us would walk away after our time together in Christie. It took any pressure off. And she wasn’t someone taking me away from work or needing more time than I could give her.
I sighed. If I liked her so much, I should be pleased John would ensure she found happiness. It wasn’t as if I was able to offer her anything.
Kennedy wiped her palms down her jeans as she stood and pulled her shoulders down, lifting her chin. Over the next few minutes, John’s magic seeped through her tough exterior, and by the time he was done with her, her stance, her eyes, her face had softened as if her edges had been smoothed away by the spirit of her grandmother, who told her someone tall and unusual from another world would find her.
When John turned to Mackenzie, my heart thundered and I had to resist the urge to stand up and claim her. I needed to snap out of it. She was practically a stranger to me.
A stranger with a nice ass and a beautiful smile. A girl who’d trusted me. A woman who expected nothing from me but invoked a need in me to please her.
She looked expectantly at John and his eyes narrowed as the beat of his drum got deeper and lower. He nodded at her. She stood and walked toward him, just as the others had done.
John began to sway in circles, poking his fingers in the air, making sounds I’d never heard before. The beating of his drum got louder and louder. I’d never seen him like this. It sounded like he was arguing with the spirits. Perhaps he didn’t agree with what had been said.
Mackenzie’s hands flattened against her chest and she hunched forward as if she were trying to make herself smaller, as if she was hoping she might disappear. I wanted to go and stand with her, reassure her that Big John meant her no harm.
He came to an abrupt halt and stood, still as a stone, the only sound coming from him the violent inhalation of air. He dropped his drum and it hit the ground with a boom. Mackenzie turned her head and glanced at me. I didn’t know how to react.
Finally, John sat as if nothing had happened. “She knows,” he said as he shrugged. “Already knows.”
Brianna stood. “John, did someone come through for Mackenzie?”
He looked up at Brianna. “Yes. She knows.”
Brianna looked uncomfortable. “What does she know, John?”
“The man. She knows the man. It will just take some time.” John scowled at the fire, then stood and headed back to his truck, clearly unwilling to be drawn into any further discussion.
“Well it sounds like you may already have the right man in your life, you just need to rediscover him. Perhaps an ex-boyfriend?” By Brianna’s clipped words and forced smile, I could tell she was a little unsettled by such a strange reaction from John, but she was so good at covering it up, no one would have known except me. Mackenzie’s message had been more cryptic than everyone else’s and was the only one that referred to someone she knew.
It stung a little to know that Mackenzie was already spoken for. I was pretty sure the sex between us was better than she’d ever had. Hell, it was better than I’d ever had. I tried to console myself with the fact that tonight she’d be mine again. I was happy to provide her with distraction and vice versa.
Mackenzie looked more upset than I would’ve expected and she sat down, Kennedy and Rose immediately wrapping arms around her. I guess she came to Oklahoma looking for a change only to be told that she’d already met her future.
“Thanks for coming out,” I said, following John to the edge of camp. I glanced back at Mackenzie, who was still being comforted by the other girls. Jealousy twinged in my fingers. I wanted to be the one with her now, holding her, making it better. I wanted her to be holding me.
Just as I was starting to settle into Christie’s easy rhythm, the snow globe had been shaken up and I was dizzy from all the conversations and questions spinning through my head. I’d been looking for a simple answer and, if anything was clear to me now, it was that there would b
e no such thing.
Brianna’d irritated me rather than providing a solution. I still had no answer to the question of whether I risk a reality that I knew to be good for the hope of something that would likely make me miserable. Did I choose to stay on the path I was walking—it was safe and certain—or did I move to a place where I knew I’d failed once to pursue a dream I’d had since college?
Things were okay in Oklahoma, nothing was pushing me out. Was the pull of Boston strong enough? Was having my own company and developing my research what I really wanted? Was I greedy to want more than what I already had? Or was I just being a chicken shit?
Was John talking to me earlier? Would I be unable to rest until I was sharing my research, my gift? Was it my obligation, my calling?
Eight
Mackenzie
This trip wasn’t turning out how I’d expected. At. All.
The shaman was meant to be the good bit of Love Rehab, or so Ann had said. I didn’t have to think about anything; I just had to stand there and be sent the man of my dreams. How hard could it be? I should have left on the second day after all. If my vagina hadn’t been bewitched by Blake, I might have.
“You okay, Mackenzie?” Kennedy asked as she came out of the bathroom. Rose was already asleep. We’d come straight back to the cabin after the shaman, but I hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened.
“Yeah, tired.” That was a lie. I wanted to punch something, run somewhere. Sleep was the last thing on my mind.
“I’m sure it’s all bullshit,” she said.
“Bullshit or not, there’s not much I can do about it.” The shaman had sent everyone else the love of their life. But me? Apparently, I was going to get back with Phil. When I arrived, I’d hoped for a call from Phil telling me he’d acted rashly by calling off our engagement in order that I could get my plan back on track. At the time it would have been the best possible outcome from coming here.
I slumped back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling as Rose began to snore. It just wasn’t fucking fair. I’d organized this trip. Hell, I’d had to practically drag Kennedy here by the hair and staple her to my side to make her stay. And yet, it was Rose and Kennedy that were promised the bright romantic future that I so desperately wanted.
I was consigned to a do-over. A man I already knew. I felt cheated. I should be grateful. Two days ago I would have been. But something in the Christie air gave life to the niggling feeling at the back of my head that told me Phil had done the right thing by calling off the wedding.
Kennedy mumbled, a sure sign she was asleep. If we weren’t in the middle of nowhere, I’d pack up my stuff and get out of Dodge.
I wanted my own bed, a gallon of Ben and Jerry’s and a marathon of Real Housewives. God only knew what tomorrow had in store for us. But I was done.
I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, craning my neck to see if I could see any signs of wakefulness from either of my two friends. Nope, they were dead to the world.
I slid on my shoes. If Blake had gone back to his cabin, I wasn’t about to go and hunt him down, but if he was around—like I said, my vagina was bewitched.
Sex would be a good way of forgetting about today. I was so heavy with thoughts of it all, I needed something to take it all away, erase it from my head. Maybe then I could sleep.
I opened the door just a crack to see Blake sitting on the log by the fire, facing our cabin. Our eyes locked and I managed a half smile as I stepped out.
Did he think I was looking for sex?
Had he been waiting for sex?
I shook my head. I didn’t have to worry about it. He was an extended one-night stand. I’d never see him again after this trip, so what did it matter if he thought I wanted him again? Frankly, looking like he did, he was probably used to women wanting him.
As I walked toward him, his face glowed in the light of the flames, and the shadows that fell over him emphasized his size. He was big in a way that was protective rather than aggressive—tall and quietly muscular, not bulky in any way. Like he’d stand in front of me if fists came my way, but never be the one to throw the first punch.
Seeing him without being surrounded by people was a luxury. All day I found myself conscious of where he was. Like a magnet to my metal, I felt his pull constantly. I had to actively stop myself from watching him, from staring at his broad shoulders or his sharp jaw, his hard chest or his roped forearms.
“Hey.” He reached and smoothed his hand around my waist, then pulled me onto his lap. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.
“I’m set for a miserable future. How about you? Pissed about missing the game?” I tugged at his hat, trying to keep things light. But what was in Blake’s eyes was serious. They were questioning and his silence felt like torture. I stared at the fire. I didn’t want to talk or to relive tonight with the shaman. He stroked my back and kissed my temple. The last thing I wanted was his pity. I began to move off his lap.
“Hey.” He pulled me back.
“Don’t look at me like you feel sorry for me.”
He turned my jaw so I was face to face with him. Reluctantly, I glanced up.
“Really?”
I turned away and he stood with me in his arms and strode toward the cabins.
I wasn’t sure a man had ever carried me anywhere. I liked it. It made me feel safe, like I was his. Like he’d take me wherever he went and never leave.
He set me down outside the cabin we’d been in last night and pushed the door open, gesturing for me to go inside. His sleeping bag was already on the bed along with the blanket we’d used by the lake the first night we’d met. It looked like maybe he’d been expecting me, hoping for me.
Blake took my hand and led me to the bed. Instead of ripping my clothes off and kissing me, he climbed onto the sleeping bag fully clothed and pulled me down next to him.
We lay on our sides facing each other, his arms wrapped around me, my hands pressed to his chest.
“You’re beautiful. Even when you’re sad.”
I smiled, but it was forced and mechanical.
“Talk to me,” he whispered.
I shrugged. I wanted all the feelings from today to disappear. I didn’t want to pull them out and bathe in them. Couldn’t things just be okay? I needed to feel better right now; I wanted to get lost in the feel of Blake rather than talk to him.
Couldn’t he fuck me so I didn’t have to think?
I shifted in his arms, hoping that our bodies rubbing together would make him forget he’d asked me a question.
“Talk to me, Red,” he whispered.
I stilled, and stared at his chest, embarrassed my plan hadn’t worked. “What do you want me to say?” Did he not want to have sex with me because he’d seen the inside of my head or because I was promised to an ex?
“Do you mind that I’m here while you do all this stuff Brianna has planned?”
I moved my hand from his chest, but he caught it and slid his fingers between mine. “No. At first . . . with the horse. That was embarrassing. I’m not a liar.”
“No one thinks you’re a liar. You know that’s not what anyone thinks.”
I shrugged.
“Sometimes I think the Mackenzie I see when it’s just you and me isn’t the Mackenzie taking part in these tasks,” he said.
Now he was calling me fake? It was too much. I couldn’t let myself be sad because if I started crying, I might never stop. I tried to pull away from him, to get off the bed, but he held me close. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m not staying to be called a fake.” Not by him. “I’m more myself with you than I have been with any man.” Although it was true, I hadn’t realized it until I was speaking the words.
“I’m not calling you a fake. Far from it. I like who you are. You’re wild and free when we’re together. You hold nothing back. But today the task upset you.” He swept my hair from my forehead. “Can I be honest?”
I rolled
my eyes. “Why stop now.” However hurtful it might be, hearing what he was going to say was better than leaving to go back to my cabin. Being uncomfortable with Blake was better than being miserable on my own.
He grinned as if I were a petulant child he found amusing. “How come you don’t know what you want from a man? A lot of women have a list.”
I sighed. Was he really the only guy on earth who wanted to talk about feelings rather than get naked? “Isn’t it a good thing that I could identify lots of positive things I bring to a relationship? I don’t understand why everyone didn’t get that . . . Why are people so focused on me not having a list of things I want in a guy?”
“I think it’s good that you don’t have a huge list, but doesn’t it tell you something that you don’t focus on what you get from a relationship at all? It seems it’s all about how much you give.”
It was as if I was having to do extra classes because I’d failed the regular ones. Was Blake the remedial teacher? “Yeah, it tells me people are focused on the wrong thing. Is it so bad that I care about what makes people happy?” The words came out choppy and sharp, and I wanted to gobble them back in as soon as they were out of my mouth.
Blake stroked my face and I tried not to melt into him. “Did you think that maybe the stones said that you concentrate on what makes your boyfriend—or fiancé—happy over what would make you happy?”
I shifted again, this time trying to create a tiny amount of distance between us. “But isn’t it good to put someone else’s needs before your own? I mean, doesn’t that just say that I’m not selfish?”