“It’s like that voice crying out in the wilderness to prepare the way—for your life calling, or for whatever the universe will bring you. I sense you’ve landed in a safe place now, where your next path will be revealed to you in its own providential time, Angie.” He took a deep breath, his smile warm and reassuring. “Meanwhile, keep listening, and follow that voice wherever your heart and soul lead you. And thanks for calling in! By asking your question on my show, you’re fulfilling your destiny of helping people.”
“H-how do you mean?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She wasn’t nearly ready to hang up on this conversation, even though her time was evidently up.
“You followed your intuitive urge to call in and the line was open, right? I believe these things happened because my listeners needed to hear about your experience, Angie, to validate the psychic signs in their own lives. Again, it’s been an honor to talk with you. I wish you abundant blessings as you go where your Spirit leads.”
The click in her ear told her she was no longer connected, but the show wasn’t nearly over. Ross continued to talk and took two more calls, and Angie sat very still, cradling her cell phone in her hands. Her thoughts whirled wildly. She’d never before heard terms like life path or master number, but she’d certainly been the poster child for bad karma, hadn’t she? Yet Ross made it sound like karma wasn’t a negative thing, and the way he’d talked to her as though she were some wise, otherworldly being…
Like Lenore!
Well, it was a lot to digest. Matter of fact, her Hot Karma burger was spinning in her stomach and she felt edgy all over.
“And that’s all for tonight’s show,” Ross said with deejaylike exuberance. “Until next week, here’s wishing you all the best as you design your destinies!” He removed his headset, grinning. “Holy cow, are you even believin’ what we did just now, babe? I had no idea about—Hey, sweetie, are you all right?”
Angie swallowed hard. Willed herself not to be sick. Stared into space, because she had no idea how to answer him.
Ross saw it coming, the storm ushered in by emotional overload. And no wonder! Who knew that Angie Cavanaugh’s numbers would reveal such startling insights and information? But it wasn’t fair that he had the experience to interpret her personality, to see into past lives and purposes she had no clue about. She had that deer-in-the-headlights look, would either bolt or be broadsided without knowing what hit her.
“Laid on some heavy stuff, didn’t I?” he asked quietly. He hit his print button and then rifled through his desk drawer. “This’ll be easier if we take your chart—and mine—out to the deck. I can explain stuff I didn’t have time for on the show.”
She stood up, looking fragile. Wary. “So…how’d you get into this numerology business, anyway?”
“Happened upon a book in the library, the summer I was nine. To a kid that age, it’s like deciphering a secret code, you know?” He gathered the printed pages and steered her toward the sliding glass doors. “I got a kick out of doing the charts, telling everybody’s fortunes. But mostly it was something to focus on while my parents went through a nasty divorce.”
“Ah. Brain candy. Diversionary tactic.”
“Yep. And when other interests came along, I set aside the numbers until I was in my late twenties. Got caught up in the implications of karma and past-life stuff.”
“And at that time you were going through your own divorce?”
Something inside him lurched. “You’re too damned tuned in to this stuff,” he murmured.
Her tawny eyes widened. “Just spouting off whatever comes to mind.”
“That’s how the deepest knowledge reveals itself to us: when we’re not thinking, not controlling what comes over the airwaves.” He placed his hand at the curve of her back, too aware of how her vulnerability called to him, how he wanted to do something besides talk to this woman whose hair shimmered in the last glow of daylight. “By then, I was ready for the information. Studied numerology in earnest, when I should’ve been cramming for my real-estate exams. But it all worked out. Always does, babe. It’ll work out for you, too.”
As Angie settled into one of the heavy Adirondack chairs, she was smiling. Ross scooted his chair against hers and held up her chart. “Back when numerology began—probably with Pythagoras as a key player—astrologers and other mystics dealt with the same information in their separate realms. But it all dovetails,” he added. “The numbers on Lenore’s tarot decks hold true for numerological interpretation, too. But enough about ancient history.”
Angie skimmed the comments of the chart he’d printed out and then asked, “So how did anyone assign meanings or personality traits to numbers? And why does it work for our alphabet the same as it did in ancient times?”
“Excellent question, sweetheart. Those original texts underwent some modern interpretation and translation by serious scholars,” he explained. “So today we still have folks who like the party-game aspect of numerology and tarot. And then there are mystics like Lenore, whose life work—her life path—involves applying those ancient principles to our lives today.”
Her lips pressed into a pretty line as she considered this. “I have no trouble believing Lenore is one of those magical mystical types. But when you said I was destined to lay a foundation—to be a master teacher—I don’t get that one at all.”
Ross let his fingertip drift along her cheek, loving the way she leaned into his touch. “It occurred to me, as we talked on the show, that perhaps you came to be my teacher, Angie. Maybe I’m finally ready for the next phase. Ready to move into a lasting relationship.”
He skated carefully onto this thin conversational ice, trying not to shatter his credibility. Holding his own chart alongside hers so the categories lined up, he said, “While you’re on a ‘two’ life path, a peacemaker who fosters balance and harmony, my ‘five’ path is all about change and freedom and variety. I’m the unconventional risk taker, set loose to run amok in other people’s lives!”
Angie giggled at this, thank God. Her face relaxed as her gaze flitted between their charts. “Ross Edward?” she murmured. “Sounds like a highly traditional name for such a wild child.”
“Yeah, but if you delve into these studies about past lives and reincarnation, you learn that we not only select our life challenges each time around the cosmic block, but we choose our names and our families as well. And look here.” He ran his finger along one line of their charts. “Your expression number, sometimes called your destiny number, is eleven—a master number, like I mentioned on the show. And so is mine.”
Angie’s eyes widened. “And you have a twenty-two on this other line? Like my twenty-two?”
“Same interpretation, yes.” His pulse thrummed as he watched her. She was on the brink of a breakthrough, if only he could ease her into it. “And while I have that ‘master builder’ energy that corresponds with yours, my personality number is a nine, which is the most highly evolved. This suggests to me that while you might have appeared in Harmony Falls to become my teacher, pretty baby, my numbers can stabilize that karmic debt you’re working off. Does any of this make sense?”
She exhaled, which made the glossy hair floating around her face lift like angel wings. “I’ve got a lot to think about. But what if I wake up tomorrow morning thinking it’s all a bunch of…”
“Bullshit?” He laughed, grasping her hand. “That’s your prerogative, Angie. But it’s not what I’m reading on your face or feeling in your vibration right now.”
“And what do you feel, Ross?”
His breath left him in a rush. God, but she could set him back on his ass with one simple sincere question. “I feel awed by what I’ve learned about you—about us—this evening. And I feel more hopeful than I’ve felt in months, because lately…well, stuff has just been bugging the heck out of me and I seem to be going around in pointless circles.”
“And?”
There it was again, that simple yet complex question she wouldn’t
let him dodge. “All right, I also feel horny as hell when I’m this close to you, Angie. So I’ll spell it out: you can stay, and I will make it worth your while, or I’ll take you back to the lodge where you’ll be safe—out of my lair, if you get my drift.”
“You’ve been drifting that direction ever since we met, Ross.”
“Yep. Can’t keep my hands off you,” he confessed with a chuckle. “And now I understand why—besides the obvious reason, that any man with eyes and hands couldn’t resist you.”
Her face flared. His temperature rose, as well. He wanted to mix her a drink, to prolong this conversation as the type he engaged in far too seldom. But if he kept her here, it only increased his chances of mucking this up. Getting grabby too soon.
Angie grinned, and damned if she didn’t lean across their chairs to kiss him very lightly on the lips. The brief contact sent a shock wave through him. Ross gripped the cool, enameled wood to keep himself and his need in check.
“Better take me back,” she murmured. “Lenore’ll be expecting me.”
Sure enough, at the end of the short drive across town, a journey of a thousand desires prickling between them, the white-haired innkeeper was leaning on the railing of the inn’s upper balcony. Her hair caught the porch light as she smiled down at them, catlike and knowing.
“Lenore,” he said. He smiled up into her wise, motherly face.
“Ross,” she replied with a nod. Then she beamed at Angie. “That was quite a show! Amazing, what we learned, wasn’t it? Fodder for lots of conversations to come.”
Lenore’s remark sounded casual, yet Ross detected subtler meanings. He draped his arm around Angie’s shoulder, determined to keep things light and positive and open, for the next time he saw her.
“How about if we step away from this porch light?” Angie nodded toward Lenore’s kitchen door. Inside, Elena glanced up from her big mixer to wave at them.
“Good point.” Ross steered her toward the inn’s back side, grinning. “See? Already you’re teaching me to be more aware. More conscious of consequences. And it’s all good, Angie. It’s all gonna be soooo good.”
He pressed her against the lodge’s outer wall and poured himself into a kiss meant to brand her as the woman he intended to have and to hold, from this day forth. It was too soon to be thinking along such lines. Too scary to believe he might make good on that vow this time around.
So he forgot all that stuff. Just laid Angie one across the lips like he meant it. And when they emerged from that hot, hopeful, breathless encounter, her eyes shone, slightly unfocused. Her grin looked as loopy and adolescent as he felt.
“Good night,” he whispered.
“Yeah, it has been, Ross. An exceptional night—and I’m looking forward to more.”
“Can’t wait,” Ross replied in a tight voice. Then he beat a fast path back to his Navigator.
Nine
ANGIE inhaled the bracing night air. She’d come this close to inviting Ross upstairs, and he would’ve come along. His pulse had accelerated with her own, wanting the same satisfying end to this unbelievably wonderful day.
And then you’d be in deep trouble. Lenore and Elena would know what you were doing up there. You’re falling too hard, too fast, just like you did for Gregg. Time to get off the fast track to trouble, to learn from your mistakes, you know?
“Who asked you?” Angie rasped. Leaning against the lodge, with the sea breeze riffling her hair, she didn’t care to hear a lecture about her checkered past. She wanted to slip up to her room and relive all the best moments of this day: how Ross had dabbed her chin as they ate those fabulous burgers, his quick kisses, his rich voice on the radio, and then the way he’d worshiped her with those blue eyes as he studied her numbers. He said she’d come to be his teacher, kissed her as though he tasted heaven and forever.
He steered you away from the Tea and Tarot shop, and not because the merchandise was too girly. That woman, Rita McQueen—
“Enough already!” she muttered as she stepped away from the wall. Angie glanced up the balcony’s support pole, snickering at the thought that she could shinny up to her room to avoid prying eyes in the parlor. Maybe ten years ago.
“I’m brewing some mint tea if you’d care to join me, Angela.” Lenore stood on the deck outside her own quarters. White candles flickered serenely in her room, and a whiff of incense wafted out.
As though she was waiting for me to come home, like Mom did.
Angie sighed. Composed her thoughts. “That would be wonderful. Just what I need right now.”
“Your day with Ross went well, I trust?”
“You tell me,” she replied, and then immediately regretted it. “Sorry. I had an amazing day, yes, but that’s no excuse for such a smart-aleck—”
“Point well taken, dear. It must be frustrating to suspect I know and see all, like in the movies.” Lenore gestured toward her open door, squeezing Angie’s shoulder. “Truth be told, the look on your face announces that you and Ross hit it off exceptionally well.”
“Understatement of the year. Maybe too well, you know?” Angie slipped into a chair at the round table near the window, where the scarlet Fiesta tea set awaited them. “While he did his radio show, I got to watch and—”
“And you called in with a brilliant question. Received much more of an answer after the show, I’m guessing.”
Angie gaped. While listeners anywhere in the world could hear the broadcast on their computers, it hadn’t occurred to her that locals followed Ross’s numerology show, too. “Did I sound totally clueless? Idiotic?”
Lenore chuckled. She poured their tea and scooted one red mug toward Angie. “You sounded in awe of the inner voice that’s directed you of late, and then you asked astute and purposeful questions. Many who call just want to put the moves on the man with that sensational voice, after they saw his photo online.”
Angie sipped the warm, sweet tea, grateful for this perspective on a day that had turned old perceptions inside out. “He took me to the house on Windswept. Channeled some of the vibrations from when I spent time there as a kid,” she murmured. “He didn’t have my parents pegged correctly, but everything else was downright spooky.” She grinned, knowing she sounded like a lovesick fool. “And then we ate at Hot Karma. Played Frisbee on the beach with the dogs. After the show, he…he interpreted my numbers.”
She paused, realizing she’d been running on and on. “He thought I might be the teacher come to lead him into the next phase of his life. Like, where did that come from?”
Lenore’s lips curved. “Ross adores women, as I’m sure you’ve surmised by now,” she said softly. “But like all of us, he could use some guidance. Reassurance.” The pearly-haired mystic leaned across the table to take her hand. “His marriage to Terri ended abruptly, leaving him gun-shy, too wary to commit to Rita McQueen. Which is a good thing.”
Angie sipped her tea. “Yeah, when I stopped to gawk into the Tea and Tarot shop, he steered me away pretty fast. Said Rita was clingy and prone to mood swings.”
“That she is.”
“I got the feeling he was making excuses for her,” Angie mused aloud. “While he said he wanted to shake her loose, I sensed a protective streak. Maybe there’s more to the relationship than he was telling me.”
“It’s something Ross has to work through before he can move on,” Lenore replied softly. “If you can help him with that, you’ll have performed an invaluable service for him—and for Rita, too.”
Now that sounded interesting, but not in a way she wanted to pursue right now. “I’ve never known anyone who can feel the history of a house,” she murmured, “and it was a little intimidating. And then there’s the way you know so much without having to ask—”
“A lot of us in Harmony Falls draw energy from the sea. It gives us greater clarity, which is nothing to be afraid of, dear.” Lenore held her mug between her two hands, pausing pensively. “I’m not telling you what to do or to whom you should listen, Angela, but if
you feel drawn to that bungalow on Windswept—”
“When I saw the for-sale sign…I’d give my eyeteeth to live in that little place!”
“Grants are available to those who rehab such historical structures,” her hostess remarked. “Perhaps you feel such a dream is beyond you at present, but if you bide your time—wait for divine guidance—you can acquire that cottage without becoming obligated to Ross or anyone else. You could apply sweat equity toward the mortgage and become the independent woman you’re destined to be. Something to think about as your relationship with Ross unfolds, dear.”
Angie gripped her mug, still filled with images of her day with this handsome, attentive man, and of the beach house where she’d made such fond memories. “What do you think of Ross, really?” she blurted. “I mean, if he’s got serious issues, or bad baggage, I’d appreciate your honesty. I…I don’t trust my own feelings about men right now.”
“And Ross can’t forget his women, no matter how much he longs to settle down with just one.” Lenore smiled, looking angelic in the soft candlelight. “Ross is a dear friend of mine and I’d love to see him happy and fulfilled on a forever basis. His charismatic nature attracts a lot of nutcases.”
Angie snickered. “Well, he and I have that in common, don’t we?” She glanced at the bottom of her mug, wondering where all her tea had gone. “I should get some rest. It’s been an awesome day, and I have a lot to think about. Thanks for listening—and for all you’ve done, Lenore. I owe you so much.”
“You owe me exactly nothing, sweetheart. You’re allowing me to carry out my purpose as a guide and a healer, and there’s no one on this earth I’d rather share my home with.” Lenore squeezed her hand. “I hope you’ll stay a long time, even as I sense your life will change very quickly now that you’ve stepped away from destructive patterns. No matter what happens, you have a place here with me. Never forget that.”
Why did that sound almost ominous? Angie stood slowly, gazing around the white room aglow with its glass and candles. She felt absolutely safe here at the inn, so grateful to have landed in this place. Going upstairs to rethink all that had happened with Ross today sounded good, yet she felt compelled to linger among these flickering candles. It was as though she’d known Lenore forever.
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