by Mae Clair
Caleb traded a glance with Wyn, something nonverbal passing between them. “The least I can do is escort you to your vehicle and ensure it wasn’t damaged.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Rummaging a pen and paper from her purse, she jotted down her contact information and left it on the table by the phone. Afterward, both men walked with her outside, Caleb holding the door as she stepped onto the porch.
Chapter 2
The moon was almost completely hidden when Arianna walked outside, cloud cover blotting what few stars remained. Rain lingered on the air, carrying the promise of a brewing storm. The wind scattered the hair around her face and sent the long tails of Caleb’s coat flapping back from his legs.
“I don’t like the weather,” he muttered to Wyn. He offered Arianna his hand and guided her down the steps. She smiled, unable to remember when a man had last shown her such elegant courtesy. At the bottom he released her, his eyes narrowed on the horizon.
“Winston.”
Arianna felt a shift in the weather, followed by the touch of something inexplicably cold. The darkness thrummed with a low-level vibration, climbing in pitch until it crashed over her in a whistling shriek. Confused, she covered her ears, looking about for the source of the sound. At her side, Caleb hissed in a breath.
“Winston!”
The authoritative crack of his voice jarred her. All around her, the darkness erupted in short bursts of light like a string of exploding flashbulbs. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! The stench of ozone and sulfur filled the air.
Wyn muttered a curse and raced for the driveway. Arianna was too focused on the appearance of four glowing spheres to pay attention to what he was doing. They dipped to the ground, pulsing with a ghost-white light before soaring upward to vanish in the blink of an eye.
“Did you see that?” she cried. “That was ball lightning!”
Caleb ignored her excitement and steered her briskly toward her car. In the darkness his hair glimmered coin-bright, as eerily luminescent as the lightning had been. “I wish you’d reconsider and spend the night. The weather is turning foul.”
“Who cares?” Arianna jerked free. “Caleb, do you realize how many people flock to this area hoping to see what we did?”
He frowned, towering over her. “Annie, it’s nothing more than lightning.”
“My name is Ari!” She glared, irked he’d use his height to intimidate her.
“Not that I want to get in the middle of your argument,” Wyn called from the driveway. “But I think you’ve got a flat, Arianna.”
“What?” Wrenched from her anger, she whirled to find Wyn crouched by her car. In the glow from the porch lights, she saw the right front tire was flat, the Sebring leaning to the side. “That’s just great!”
“Looks like you might have punctured it on a nail,” Wyn said. “Do you have a spare?”
“In the trunk.” She’d probably run over something when the car lurched onto the shoulder of the road. What else could go wrong? Forgetting her excitement over the ball lightning, she used her electronic key fob to pop the trunk.
“It’s late,” Caleb said, trailing behind her. A rumble of thunder rolled from the distance. “And it’s going to storm. We’ll change the tire for you in the morning.”
She turned to face him. If she were given to superstition, she’d be tempted to think events conspired to keep her at Weathering Rock. That he conspired to keep her at Weathering Rock.
“I’ll call a cab.” She could just as easily phone Triple A and have the tire repaired. If he were any kind of gentleman he’d change it now, storm or no storm.
“Annie.” Caleb took her hand, that strange luminescent glow turning his eyes to silver foil.
Like a wolf. She wasn’t certain where the thought came from or why.
“It’s not safe tonight.” The heat of his fingers was warm and assuring against her palm, his voice spellbinding. “You don’t have to leave.”
She tried to fluff off the seriousness of his tone, but her mouth was dry. Between the fog, ball lightning and his gravely cryptic warning, she felt like she’d stepped into an old Vincent Price movie. The smartest thing she could do was leave, but she stood rooted to the spot.
“I won’t hurt you,” he promised just as he’d done in the car.
“I–”
“You will stay, won’t you?”
She flushed, feeling suddenly foolish for her anxiety. His eyes were normal again, blue tinted with shadow. “It’s not that I think you’re an ax murderer or anything.”
“I won’t object if you want to call your answering machine again.”
“What?”
“I have exceptionally keen hearing.” He grinned, his teeth flashing white in the darkness. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t so cautious.”
Embarrassed to be caught in her charade with the recorder, Arianna lowered her eyes.
“Winston, I think our guest is going to stay the night,” Caleb called to his brother.
This time she nodded. “I do need to call my friend, Lauren. She was worried about me driving home and asked that I check in with her.”
“An intelligent lady.”
When they were back indoors, Caleb pointed out the phone in the parlor. She could tell his headache had returned. His eyes narrowed against the pain.
“I’ll use my cell later,” Arianna said.
“Then I’ll see you in the morning. Winston will show you to the guest bedroom. There’s a necessary room…uh, powder room beside it.” He tripped over the term as if it were unfamiliar. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to lie down.”
Arianna had already grown accustomed to his unusual word choices and formal speech.
His skin had grayed and a stippling of sweat was visible on his cheeks. Uneasy, she watched him leave.
“Don’t worry,” Wyn said, interpreting her thoughts. “I’ll keep an eye on him. I’m used to his headaches.” He motioned toward the doorway, grinning good-naturedly. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”
“Thank you.”
Arianna followed as he led her down a hallway toward the rear of the house. The floorboards creaked under her feet, reminding her Weathering Rock was old, steeped in the traditions of yesteryear. She could almost hear the whispers of another age echoing through the halls, conjuring images of horse-drawn carriages and gas lanterns, gentlemen with top hats and walking sticks, women in hooped skirts, their petticoats brushing plank floorboards as they whisked room to room. It was like stepping backward in time. It wouldn’t have surprised her to learn she was dreaming.
Certainly, the events of the night could be no crazier than any illusion sleep might conjure.
* * * *
“You’re where?” Lauren said into the phone, flabbergasted.
“Weathering Rock,” Arianna repeated.
“You mean that big old house off Blackberry Lane? The weird one that’s supposed to attract ball lightning?”
“That’s the one.”
Too keyed up to sit, Arianna paced the guestroom. “I had a small accident on the way home.” And met an incredibly sexy man with silver eyes and an old-fashioned personality. That part would keep until tomorrow.
Lauren drew a sharp breath. “Ari, you’re scaring me. Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Walking to the window, she pushed the drapes aside and stared into the darkness. Her reflection leaped back like a disembodied ghost–raven hair, dark green eyes, her skin pale as milk in the night-blackened glass. The rain had arrived, pushed by a fury of wind and thunder. It pelted the windows, making her feel safe indoors.
I won’t hurt you, Caleb had promised. Why was it so important to him she stay?
She told her friend what happened, skipping her conflicting emotions about her blond-haired host.
“And you’re actually staying?” Lauren gave a cluck of disbelief. “I don’t care if it is raining, I’ll come get you. For all we know, one of them c
ould have punctured your tire so you’d be stuck there.”
“You’ve seen too many slasher movies, Lauren. I’ll be fine.” She couldn’t explain why, but felt secure in the house, as if something sinister lurked outside. As long as she remained within the walls of Weathering Rock, she was protected from that unnamed threat.
By Caleb.
The thought shocked her. She eased to a seat on the bed, absently fingering the white eyelet cover. The furnishings looked plucked from a storybook, the bed dressed in a pale blue canopy and flirty skirted ruffle. The matching bureau was squat and old-fashioned with a standing mirror and gold-veined marble top. A walnut washstand with a pitcher and bowl was tucked into the corner.
“I’ll call you in the morning when I get home.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Positive.” Arianna smiled, appreciating her friend’s concern. Lauren had been through a divorce eight months ago, the experience leaving her jaded when it came to trusting men. She had Rick Rothrock to thank for that. To her credit, Lauren had remained friends with her ex-husband, a successful real estate developer who’d two-timed her with his marketing director. In the end, she’d walked away with a sizable settlement, and the marketing director had been fired in favor of someone who could do the job rather than parade around in short skirts and stiletto heels.
“All right.” Lauren exhaled into the phone. “But I expect a call in the morning, followed by details in the afternoon. How about dropping by my shop after you finish your errands?”
“Deal.” Running Saturday errands was a regular routine for Arianna and she most always ended at Lauren’s boutique for a visit afterward. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
She said goodbye and set the cell within reach on the nightstand. Rain continued to batter the windows in fierce bursts, backlit by strobes of lightning. The intermittent flash made her think of the ball lightning she’d seen earlier, an occurrence Caleb had been reluctant to acknowledge. Yet another oddity from a man who excelled at them.
Yawning, she glanced at her watch. It was after one in the morning and the events of the night had finally caught up with her. She switched off the light and opened the drapes, inviting the frenzied dance of the storm indoors. She shimmied from her jeans and top and crawled into bed, the cotton sheets blessedly cool against her bare skin. Moments later, as she was drifting toward sleep, a rattling crack of thunder drew her upright.
Outside, lightning transformed the night into surreal-whitened day, silhouetting the bulk of a large animal against the window. Arianna recoiled from the touch of its eyes, yellow in the flash-fire burst of the storm. The image lasted only a pulse-beat before it was swallowed by darkness.
She shoved from the bed, hastily pulling on her blouse to cover herself, and threw open the window. The night had bled into a cauldron of shadow and patchy fog, making it impossible to see more than a few feet. The air was redolent with wet grass and worm-rich soil, an odor that made her think of swollen riverbeds and bogs. Rain pelted her face and left her shivering in her skimpy bra and panties. The animal–if animal it had been–had been swallowed by the storm.
She closed the window, careful to secure the lock.
It’s not safe tonight, Caleb had said.
She shook away a chill, convinced she’d been dreaming. The animal must have been a figment of her sleep-hazed mind. The events of the night, Caleb’s mysterious warning, and the legends surrounding Weathering Rock had taken a toll of her nerves.
Yet as she crawled into bed, she couldn’t help thinking the animal had looked very much like a wolf.
Chapter 3
The next morning she woke to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and bacon, an aroma she remembered fondly from childhood. Saturday mornings her mother had always made a sit-down breakfast for the entire family–crisp bacon, eggs, butter-slathered toast and heaping platters of home fries. She and her older sister Daphne were generally the first at the table, making sure they sat closest to the window where the sun cascaded through, warm and golden.
When was the last time she’d eaten more than a bowl of cereal or a cup of yogurt for breakfast? Running late for work, she was more likely to grab a granola bar as she dashed out the door, behind because she’d hit the snooze button on her alarm one too many times.
It felt good to stretch and lie in bed, lazily appreciating her surroundings. Judging by the oblong splash of sunlight on the floor, the fog had faded with the dawn. She’d slept soundly, surprising given the strange animal she thought she’d seen.
A steepled wall clock to the right of the door told her it was after nine AM, later than she was used to sleeping on a Saturday. She thrust the blankets aside, crawled from bed, dressed and tided the room. Once she’d freshened up, she followed the smell of coffee and bacon to the kitchen. Unlike the parlor, it had been updated to reflect contemporary styling with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops, but an aura of old-fashioned charm remained in wide-plank floorboards and oversized moldings. Beneath a bay window, a round walnut table was already set with glasses and plates.
“Good morning,” Wyn called from the stove. “I hope you’re hungry. I made enough for three.”
Arianna flushed, uncomfortable with such easy attention from a virtual stranger. “That’s kind of you, but–”
“But what?” He tossed a glance over his shoulder as he worked at scrambling a griddle of eggs. “Caleb should be down soon. I know he’ll want to thank you again and say good-bye. I’ll change your tire after breakfast.”
Caleb.
She wouldn’t mind another moment or two in the company of that particular man. She’d already stayed the night. What was breakfast in comparison?
“Okay.” She slid her purse onto the counter. “What can I do to help?”
“Uh…how about filling the glasses with orange juice? Maybe round up some butter for the table.”
“I can handle that.” She started for the refrigerator, growing more comfortable with a routine she remembered from childhood.
“Help yourself to coffee. Caleb drinks it strong, so I water mine down. Sugar helps.” Wyn cracked a grin. “Lots of it.”
“You make the coffee to suit Caleb?”
Wyn shrugged. He looked better rested this morning, his clothing neat and tidy, wavy dark hair combed into place. “It’s easier to water mine down.” He popped the door on the microwave to check the bacon. “I have a feeling he’s going to need it this morning.”
“How was he last night?” Arianna focused on Wyn as she carried the orange juice to the table and started to pour.
“Fine, just dazed from the spill. He was having one of his episodes.”
Arianna wanted to inquire further, but wasn’t sure how to go about it without appearing nosy. As trim and healthy as Caleb looked, she couldn’t imagine him incapacitated by headaches.
“He seemed confused, talking about someone named Meade.”
Wyn turned his back, but not before she’d caught his scowl. “That was nothing.” Taking the bacon from the microwave, he layered it on a platter and changed the subject. “What do you do in Sagehill, Arianna?”
“Ari’s fine.” Finished with the juice, she returned it to the refrigerator. “I teach at the local middle school. Seventh grade history.”
“So you get that nice long summer vacation everyone envies?”
She nodded. Monday was the beginning of her yearly summer break. School had finished two days before, but there’d been administrative work to clean up, yesterday marking the official end of her school year.
“I still have a few commitments during the summer,” she explained. “Day activities and field trips for kids in summer classes. I have one lined up the end of the month for Gettysburg.” Locating the coffee mugs on the counter, she helped herself to a cup, adding water at the sink and a few spoonfuls of sugar as Wyn suggested.
“Gettysburg, huh?” He returned to the stove, where he confiscated the pan of scrambled eggs, adding them to t
he platter with the bacon. “As a history teacher, you probably know a lot about the Civil War.”
“Living in Sagehill makes it almost mandatory, considering the town was a thoroughfare for the southern army when it came into Pennsylvania.”
“Yeah.” Frowning, Wyn slid the platter onto the table. “I wish Caleb would get down here.”
“Soon enough, Winston?” Caleb walked into the kitchen as if on cue.
Arianna couldn’t help stealing an appreciative glance. She had no intention of becoming infatuated with someone she’d only met, but something about Caleb DeCardian sent her pulse racing every time she glanced in his direction. Dressed in black jeans and a white cotton shirt, the sleeves cuffed on his forearms, Caleb looked casual and relaxed. The lines of pain around his eyes had vanished, his skin no longer drawn and ashen. In short, he looked every inch a fit and virile male.
“Perfect timing as usual.” One by one, Wyn mounded a spoonful of eggs onto each breakfast plate. “Right after I’ve finished with the cooking. Nice of you to join us, Caleb.”
“You know I dislike those blasted gadgets.” Caleb indicated the stove and microwave with a backhanded wave. “They’re–” He stopped, scowling when Wyn lobbed him a warning glare. His demeanor changed instantly and he turned to Arianna with a smile. “I hope you won’t let Winston’s grumbling spoil breakfast. You will join us, won’t you?”
She wasn’t sure she could have said no even if she’d wanted. An invitation from a man who looked like Caleb was hard to refuse. “Your brother was kind enough to invite me,” she said, feeling the need to come to Wyn’s defense.
“Please–” Caleb swept an arm toward the table, a grand gesture inviting her to sit.
With a hesitant smile, she moved toward the nearest chair, surprised when Caleb walked behind her and held it in place. It was a lovely old-fashioned formality. Feeling slightly bashful, she allowed him to guide the chair, then watched as he rounded the table to sit next to her. The first thing he did was remove the linen napkin from beside his plate and unfold it over his lap.