“You haven’t led me on, Stephen. You’ve always been up-front that we would never last as a couple. And I wouldn’t have traded our friendship or our time together for anything,” she whispered, holding back tears.
“You know what I mean to do?” He didn’t really need to ask, but he wanted to make sure it was clear.
“Yes. When?”
“After Christmas.”
“Do you want me there?” Both her voice and her expression were strained.
“Yes.”
“Then I have no choice.” She looked down, and he wondered if she was holding his hand. “I love you. I’ll do anything for you.”
“You know how important it is to me that you’re there.” He’d begun to feel the vibration in his throat as his voice returned. She nodded but said nothing.
“So this is it. The last time we’ll ever be alone together.” She looked into his eyes. “She would never have to know.”
“I would know.” He swallowed again, more naturally this time.
“But there’s nothing you could do to stop me from making love to you now, if I wanted to.”
“For now, I’m at your mercy.”
She regarded him for a long time: long enough that by the time she spoke, he was able to feel his hand resting against her leg where she must have left it.
“I should never have met you,” she said finally. She got up and left the room.
* * *
The moment he was able to sit up, Stephen fished his cell phone out of his pocket to call Herman. She picked up on the second ring.
“Stephen?” She was panting. Wherever she was, it was windy.
A lump of fear formed in his throat. “Herman, are you okay?”
“Not really, are you?”
“I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“I had to get out of there. My dad knows you’re gone already, and he wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept asking me where you’d gone and why you’d crawled out the window to leave. He was starting to get Chad upset, so I left. I’m walking.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you’d left for the airport already. He wouldn’t believe me.”
“We’ll worry about that later. Is there a place you can go to get warmed up?”
“There’s a Tim Horton’s up ahead. I’ll go in and find out where I am so Aunt Beryl can come and get me.”
Stephen breathed, aware suddenly that he’d been holding it.
“How is everything at home?” Herman asked.
He hesitated for a split second. She picked up on it.
“What’s wrong there?”
“Nothing,” he said, feeling guilty. “I’m just a little shaky still. I called you the second I was able to move.”
“I’m glad you got there safely. I’ll phone you again if my dad still won’t leave me alone. Otherwise, call me if you’re not too busy tonight?”
“Definitely. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah. I’m walking in the door to Tim’s now.”
“Okay. Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
They disconnected, and he walked gingerly down the stairs, holding the banister to steady himself. Lotta greeted him warmly the moment he entered the kitchen. Her plump, round face was the same, but there were a few more gray streaks in her hair than the last time he’d seen her, likely courtesy of Nina.
Charlotte sat at the kitchen table, a crystal whiskey glass in hand. She was chatting with Reed, heads together, her strawberry-red locks mingling with his of dark brown.
“I’ve just been getting acquainted with your brother,” she said, looking up at Stephen. Reed turned away to hide the blush that rushed to his cheeks. “What?” she asked. “Aren’t you two brothers? You look so alike.”
Across the room, Lotta cleared her throat and began to give unnecessary instructions to the cook, who was obviously trying to eavesdrop.
“Reed is my half-brother,” Stephen said. He turned to the younger man and asked, “How are you?”
“I’m fine, Sir. It’s good to have you home again.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to say something and then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she picked up her drink and took a drawn-out sip.
“Shall I get the horses ready for you to go out to the station this afternoon?” Reed asked.
“We won’t be going out until tomorrow. But I’d appreciate it if you’d make sure everything out there is set to go, and the crew have everything they need.”
“Right away.” Reed stood. He held out his hand to Charlotte. “It was very nice meeting you, Miss …”
“McLeod. Charlotte.”
“Miss McLeod.” He smiled and kissed the back of her hand.
Stephen watched Charlotte’s gaze follow him out the door. “Like him, do you?”
“He reminds me of you,” she answered, taking another drink.
“Why don’t you go with him? He can show you where we’ll be practicing tomorrow.”
Without a word she hurried to the door. She called Reed’s name before he could get too far away. Lotta went to fetch her coat and boots, and she left, giving Stephen a kiss on the cheek on her way out.
“Will Miss Flowers be here for dinner?” Lotta asked him after the door closed behind Charlotte.
“Margaret left?”
“Yes, Sir. She didn’t say when she would be back.”
“Damn it. Where are the rest of the ladies?”
“Upstairs, Sir,” Lotta said, lowering her eyes in obvious discomfort.
Stephen found some crackers and ate one as he went up the stairs two at a time. Feeling stronger by the minute. Feeling annoyed at Margaret. Feeling excited about seeing the rest of the coven together for the first time in years.
The room with the futon and the Jacuzzi at the top of the spiral staircase was silent and empty. He ducked through the tunnel to the large room at the back. In the gloom, they sat on the floor in a circle, cross-legged, holding hands, their eyes closed. Four beautiful women prayed to an unseen spirit.
Bryce sensed him first. She opened her eyes and squealed as she got up to run to him with outstretched arms, and the others followed. Though it was only a short time ago since he’d seen her, and indeed even Charlie, coming together in the place where so many memories had been made was like coming home after a long absence.
Kerry was deeply tanned, her knee-length hair bleached white by the African sun. Sarah, her dark Asian eyes shining with delight, was adorned on top with bright purple hair. When Stephen asked what had happened to prompt the dramatic change, she looked up at him with a smile. “My ex and I broke up.”
“I’m sorry,” Stephen said, glancing quickly over her shoulder to see a sparkle in Charlie’s eye. He predicted they would be a couple again before Christmas came.
They spent a little time catching up before they focused on the reason for their reunion.
“Margaret told us you wanted us together to cast a spell on your servant, Nina,” Bryce said.
“Yes, I need her to move on with her life.”
“It won’t be easy to make someone fall out of love with you,” Kerry said. “You of all people.”
“We have to try,” he said. “But we need all of us here. Did Margaret say where she was going?”
Charlie answered. “She came up and mumbled something about going back to work, and then she left. She had a bottle of whiskey in her hand, so I don’t think she took her car. She’d already had a lot to drink.”
“Shit.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed her number. There was a great deal of shuffling, then she came on the line.
“I’m busy,” she slurred and hung up.
He pushed the end button and dialed the foreman of his road crew, Ron. He picked up after the first ring.
“Yes, Boss.”
“Is Margaret there?”
He cleared h
is throat. “She is.”
“Thanks.” Stephen hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket. “I’ll have to go and get her.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Charlie asked.
“I’ll look after Margaret. If you ladies want to start looking through the books for a spell, it would be helpful. I shouldn’t be long.” He hugged each of them once again and hurried to the barn to bridle a horse.
At the station, Stephen was treated to the dubious pleasure of witnessing a coital romp. In the light from the bare bulbs suspended from the high ceiling in the old waiting room, he found Reed on his back on one of the long benches; Charlotte straddled him, naked from the waist down, presumably impaled on his manhood.
“You didn’t waste any time,” Stephen murmured. It crossed his mind as he spoke that his own first time with Charlotte had been ten minutes after they’d met.
Reed moved to lift her off, but Stephen held up one hand. “Don’t stop on my account. I’m looking for Margaret.”
“She’s in there,” Charlotte said, cocking her head toward the door beside the ticket office without pausing in her efforts.
Stephen turned from the scene in the waiting room to find a similar one in the back room. Margaret was on all fours, surrounded by the nine-man crew. Ron—the man he had spoken to on the phone—was currently working his way to orgasm inside Stephen’s best friend. Stephen was not pleased.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked in a tone he knew only Margaret would hear. She gazed drunkenly into his eyes.
“Fuck off. You don’t own me.” Her stare wavered around his face as her body was repeatedly thrust forward by the now climaxing foreman.
“Yeah, fuck off,” said another of the crew, a middle-aged man who looked like he’d had too few showers of late. “It’s my turn next.”
Margaret spit out a laugh. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” she asked Mr. Next-In-Line.
“Do you, Margaret?” Stephen asked, attempting to goad her into getting up. It worked. She pulled away from the foreman and staggered toward him. Her mascara ran in dark rivulets down her cheeks, and her hair looked as though she had had half a dozen fists holding it from the back. The front of her t-shirt was around the back of her neck, but she was otherwise nude.
“You,” she started, poking a finger at his chest when she reached him, “are the asshole who made me stoop to this level to get the dick you won’t give me because you’re in love with someone else.”
“Where are your clothes?” he asked, looking over her head. The crew had disbursed; three men, all wearing wedding rings, were trying to pretend they’d never stopped working. He spotted a pile of clothing on one of the two chairs where he and Herman had rehearsed, what seemed a hundred years ago. He went to get them, hoping Margaret would stay on her feet. Clothes in hand, he guided her around the ticket office and into the ladies’ room on the other side.
He put her on the toilet, pulled a handful of paper off the roll and handed it to her so she could clean herself up. When she came out, he helped her get dressed. Neither spoke until they returned to the waiting room.
He parked her on a bench out of sight of the other couple who were still going at it and said, “Stay here. I have to talk to the crew.”
“Get my bottle while you’re in there,” she mumbled.
He approached Ron at once; the prematurely graying man, wearing his Great Dagmaru crew shirt hitched partway up his medium-sized paunch, worked a crowbar, meticulously opening a crate. Two younger men occupied the chairs and three more slouched on the floor. Five half-empty bottles of whiskey sat on the table before them, all with their caps on.
Stephen spoke to the man in charge. “If you can get this all unpacked and set up by the time I get out here at eight tomorrow morning, you’ll all get a good severance package. You’re all fired.”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” said Ron, at once alert and holding his large calloused hands out in front of him as though trying to put a stop to his boss’s decision.
“I’m sure you are.” Stephen turned to the door, transporting the bottles, by magic, to the ticket booth counter on the other side of the wall as he walked out. The foreman tried to follow him, protesting loudly.
“Just get back to work!” Stephen said. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the man backward into the crate with a thump.
Predictably, Margaret was on her feet, heading for the whiskey. He shifted his body between her and the booze.
“No you don’t. I’m taking you home.”
“What’s the use if you’re not going to make love to me?” she asked.
He shook his head and unlocked the ticket office. Once the alcohol was safely locked away, he went to speak to Reed. He was sitting with Charlotte on his lap, her legs wrapped around his body; they were kissing. There seemed to be no movement going on below the waist.
“Are you just about finished?”
“For now, I think, Mr. Dagmar.” He smiled with a lopsided grin, a trait they’d both inherited from their father.
“Good. I need you to keep an eye on the guys in there,” he said. “If you see any more booze, confiscate it. Call me if you have any problems.” He turned his attention to Charlotte. “Do you want to come back to the house with Margaret and me, or do you want to stay out here?”
“I’ll stay.” She cuddled closer to Reed.
Stephen smiled. He closed his eyes for a mere second and a set of keys appeared in his hand with a faint whistle. He tossed them to Reed who caught them out of the air. “The apartment upstairs,” he said. “You have my blessing. But please make sure the crew is back to work before you use it.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Reed said, grinning.
“Are one of you going to tell me what the deal is between you two?” Charlotte asked, looking back and forth between the half-brothers. Reed looked to his employer.
“One day,” Stephen said. He gave her a look that told her not to question it again. She nodded and turned to face Reed.
Margaret lay on the bench where she had been sitting, her eyes closed. She didn’t look like she would last a ride home on horseback. Her arm dropped and hung outward from her body, and she murmured something that made Stephen step closer and ask her to repeat herself.
“I would have had it. If I hadn’t lost it, I would have …” She drifted off into oblivion, and there was nothing he could do to wake her again. He sighed as he closed his eyes. A whistle announced she was gone, safely to his bed. He hurried through the waiting room, mounted his horse, and galloped home, hoping she wouldn’t do something stupid like throw up and asphyxiate herself before he got there.
His phone began to ring as he reached the kitchen door.
CHAPTER 30
Herman was comfortably warmed through and thinking about Christmas shopping when her dad showed up at the Tim Horton’s to pick her up. She watched him park Beryl’s car. Large, fluffy, Christmasy flakes of snow drifted to the ground between them. He shuffled across the parking lot and entered the restaurant, brushing the snow off his head and the shoulders of his brown leather jacket as he walked to her table.
“You didn’t come so you could drill me some more about Stephen, did you?” she asked before he had time to sit.
“No, I came to take you Christmas shopping. For Chad and your aunt.”
“You read my mind,” she said, a little disconcerted. “You’re not going to try to kidnap me, are you?”
To her astonishment, he laughed. “No, there’s no need to take you away from him now that you’re pregnant.”
Herman looked at him with one eyebrow raised, waiting for him to explain.
“I’ve seen how protective he is of his other unborn kid. He might be willing to kill to keep that one safe, but if I know Stephen Dagmar as well as I think I do, he’d murder an entire village to keep you from harm.”
“That’s a comforting thought,” she said sarcastically.
He shrugged. “Your boyfriend’s a badass. If you don’t like it, leave him.”
She looked him in the eye. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him, Dad.”
“Let’s hope it’s a long one,” he said, staring back. “Has he proposed to you yet?”
At that, Herman lowered her gaze to the table. “No,” she said, quietly.
“Keep your eyes open, Herman. You’re not the only one he’s having a baby with, and you’re not the only one he’s slept with since you’ve been together. He’s got a lot of beautiful women at his beck and call …”
“Stop it!” she said as loudly as she dared in the restaurant. “Stephen loves me! Not them, me!”
“You keep telling yourself that,” he said, cruelly.
“That’s it.” She stood. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll walk home.”
“Wait, Herman,” George called as she pushed open the door to go out. She was halfway across the parking lot when he caught up with her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. She ignored him, walking with her focus on the snowy asphalt. “It’s just that he gets under my skin. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
When she continued to ignore him, he grabbed her arm.
“Leave me alone!” she yelled, hoping to get some attention from the people in the coffee shop. If she was going to be abducted, she wanted to make sure someone would notice.
“Herman, I only want what’s best for you …”
“How can you say that? All you do is badmouth Stephen. At least he acts like he loves me. That’s more than I get from you—my own father. In fact, it feels more like you hate me.” Tears welled up in her eyes, unbidden. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“I don’t hate you, Herman.”
She turned away, but he stepped in front of her. “I love you. I want to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection from Stephen! If anything, I need protection from you.”
She attempted to walk away but he grabbed her again. “I really am sorry, Herman. Look, can we start again? I promise, I won’t bring up Stephen again,” he pleaded. “I just want to take you shopping.”
“No.” She jerked her arm out of his grip and started away, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she did. He didn’t follow her.
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