Charmed

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Charmed Page 27

by Catherine Hart


  “To do what?” Brian wanted to know. “Wait by the phone for your truant bridegroom to call? Honey, that’s no way to spend your time. You need to get out and have some fun. If nothing else, maybe it’ll make your new hubby wake up and realize that if he doesn’t pay attention to you someone else will.”

  Nikki went stiff with anger. “Thorn will be here as soon as he can,” she replied frostily. “This separation is tough on both of us, but it couldn’t be helped. I’m sure he’s not enjoying it any more than I am, and I’m certainly not about to abuse his trust in me by painting the town with other men. Now, if you will please get away from my car, I have places to go and things to do.”

  Sheree grinned. “Why don’t we go to the mall, Nik?” she suggested airily. “I hear Sears has a sale on satin sheets. After roughing it in the wilds for so long, I’ll bet Thorn would get a charge out of slip-sliding around with you on a set of those.”

  Nikki blushed. Though she knew Sheree had deliberately made the outrageous statement to irk Brian all the more, in her estimation Sheree was laying it on pretty thick. “First the wallpaper store,” she reminded her curtly.

  “Yeah.” Sheree’s eyes lit up, and she sliced a snide look at Brian. “Got to spruce up the old master bedroom. No time to waste.” With that parting shot, Sheree sauntered off to her own car.

  Nikki sighed. “Look, Brian, I’m sorry about Sheree, but she’s right—not very diplomatic, but right. I’m married now; you’ve simply got to accept that.”

  “I do,” he countered, “But I don’t see why you and I can’t still go out once in a while. Just for dinner and a movie.”

  “No. Give it up, Brian. I made my choice.”

  He gave a mirthless laugh. “Women are famous for changing their minds, aren’t they?”

  “Not me. I found what I want.” Nikki slid into her car and slammed the door, her face tight with repressed anger. She started the car and backed out of the slot, barely missing Brian’s foot. Brian rapped on the hood. “See ya around, doll! I don’t give up that easily.”

  Nikki gunned the motor and took great pleasure in watching Brian hastily sidestep as she peeled past him. “Jerk!” She punched the air-conditioning button and flipped the fan on high, hoping the icy air would help cool her temper as well as her temperature. “A couple of lousy dates, and he sticks like super glue! The damned fool thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Well, I have news for him. Next to Thorn, he’s God’s idea of a bad joke!”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ohio—1813

  Silver Thorn touched the amulet which hung from its cord around his neck. He’d watched anxiously until the pendant had appeared beneath the surface of the water, his relief that Neeake had reached her own time safely tempered by his sorrow at being parted from her. How many times since that day had he asked himself if it had really, truly been necessary to send her away from him? She’d been gone a full moon now, and he felt as if half his heart had been ripped from his chest.

  One entire moon, and there had been no sign of Tenskwatawa, though a number of Black Hoof’s warriors still searched for him. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson and had ceased his treacherous actions after all. Perhaps he was less a threat than Silver Thorn had thought. Then again, perhaps not. It was not a chance Silver Thorn had been willing to take—not with the life of his wife and child.

  But in sending Neeake away from him, had he risked too much too hastily? Would he be able to revise the spell that had brought her to him, to reverse it so that he might join her in her time? He wasn’t sure. He prayed that he could, but he wasn’t totally certain.

  Which was why he’d retraced their path to the tree she’d told him was on her parents’ property. It had occurred to him, tardily, that he might need something from her era, some tangible object that had come into Neeake’s possession just prior to the time she had first appeared to him. He recalled the lottery tickets she’d buried with the missive to her parents and had hurried to retrieve them before anyone in Neeake’s day could do so. Now they rested safely within his spirit bag, alongside the treasured photograph of her which Neeake had left behind for him, awaiting the moment when he could weave them into the spell.

  That moment was not yet at hand, however, which was both a blessing and a burden. The same span of days both loomed and plodded, depending on Silver Thorn’s mood. When measured by time away from Neeake, it felt endless. When measured by the days left to convince Tecumseh to change his course of action, it was much too short. One moon gone, one left in which to alter Tecumseh’s destiny. Was ever a man so torn by his responsibilities—to his wife, his brother, his mother—each needing his attention each pulling him in a different direction?

  “Oh, Neeake, my love.” Silver Thorn gave a forlorn sigh. “Be patient, little goose. Be brave. Do not lose faith Do not forget me. I will move heaven and earth to come to you.”

  Ohio—1996

  Nikki’s birthday fell on Labor Day, when the family traditionally gathered at the farm for the last holiday of the summer. This year, they’d combined the customary picnic with a party to celebrate Nikki’s birthday, complete with all the standard ribbing about turning thirty. Though not in a party mood, Nikki found she didn’t mind their jokes as much as she might have. Much of her former discontent about her age had had to do with the fact that she’d wanted to start a family of her own before she got much older. Being pregnant was a gift in itself.

  It still surprised her, when she thought of it, how easily her immediate family had accepted her tale of being whisked back in history. But maybe for them it was easier than most. On her mother’s side, there had been stories of Scottish ancestors with “the sight,” which was strange in its own right. On her dad’s, there was the Shawnee bloodline, which lent itself naturally to the belief. Even Nikki’s brothers seemed willing to honor her bizarre experience with more credibility than the average modern person might have, for which she was truly grateful. Now they were all gathered around her, lending their support.

  Jack, the oldest and a confessed computer nerd, had driven up from Columbus for the weekend with his wife and children. He was the quintessential yuppie, a stockbroker fast on the rise in his company with all the prerequisites—ambition, intelligence, an impressive house in the suburbs with a mortgage and a swimming pool, a supportive wife and two point three children. He and Mariette were expecting their third child in January and hoping for a girl after having boys the first two times around.

  Denny, the second oldest at age thirty-six, was a partner in a small local law firm. He, too, was married, and he and Danielle were the parents of two children, a thirteen-year-old son and a seven-year-old daughter.

  Sam, the youngest brother, but still Nikki’s senior by three years, was following in their father’s footsteps. Farming was in his blood, and he’d majored in agriculture in college. The only bachelor of the brood, and a very eligible one at that, he’d built his own house just a couple of miles down the road from their parents, far enough for privacy but conveniently near for helping the elder Swan with the farming.

  “So, how’s my favorite sister?” Jack asked, coming up to Nikki and looping his arm around her shoulders.

  Nikki grinned. “I’m your only sister,” she reminded him.

  He chuckled. “That’s why you’re my favorite. You’re one of a kind, thank God. The family couldn’t have stood another one like you.” His handsome features fell into more serious lines. “Are you getting along okay?”

  “I’m coping,” Nikki told him. “It’s not easy, but I’ll get by.”

  “You look thin,” he commented critically. “Are you eating properly?”

  Nikki rolled her eyes toward the heavens. “Geez! The first time in years I can look in the mirror and like what I see, and the whole world thinks I’m wasting away! I’m fine, Jack. My appetite isn’t what it used to be, but I’m not going to knock it. It might keep me from looking like a total blimp in the next few months. And, yes, I’m drinking my milk and getti
ng all my proper vitamins and nutrients for the baby.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Do you bug Mari this way? It’s a wonder she hasn’t landed a frying pan alongside your head.”

  Mari sauntered up and curled into her husband’s side. “I’ve been tempted,” she confessed, having overheard the conversation, “but I don’t want to jar his brilliant brain too badly. Let it not be said that I don’t know which side of my bread is buttered,” she teased.

  Sam joined them. “Did you really like my present, Nik?” As handy at carpentry as he was with farming, he’d made her a trellis for the climbing rosebush by her front porch.

  “I love it, Sammy.”

  “I can come by tomorrow morning and set it up for you, if you want,” he offered.

  “No hurry,” she assured him. “Anytime you get a free minute will be fine.”

  “What about our gift?” Denny inquired. He and Danielle had bought Nikki three decorative geese for her yard. “Have you decided where you’re going to put them?”

  “Sure,” she replied with a wink. “They’ll go great in my bathtub, don’t you think? Of course, they’d go even better with a hot tub. Maybe I ought to put one of those on my Christmas list this year. Hint. Hint.”

  Danielle laughed. “Your chances of getting a hot tub from these three tightwads is about as good as winning the lottery.”

  “That reminds me,” Nikki said with a snap of her fingers. “I wonder what happened to those tickets I put in with the letter. I have no idea why Thorn would need them, but it’s driving me crazy thinking I might have had a winning combination.”

  “Not likely,” Sam put in. “But if you do find them and if they are worth something, can I get a loan? I have my eye on a new combine, but it’s a little out of my pocket-book.”

  “Stand in line, baby brother,” Jack told him. “I could use an updated computer first.”

  “What about me?” Denny challenged. “What lawyer worth his salt doesn’t deserve a new Lexus?”

  “You don’t!” came the chorused, laughing answer.

  A little while later, Nikki’s mother, Paula, sat down beside her. “How are you doing, pumpkin?” the older woman asked.

  “I’ll make it,” Nikki said. “The baby helps. Whenever I get to feeling too blue, I think of that tiny life growing inside me.”

  Paula nodded and smiled. “I know. There’s nothing quite like it, nothing quite so magical and marvelous as knowing you’re going to be a mother.” She chuckled and added, “Even David Copperfield can’t top that! Let him make the Empire State Building disappear, or the Grand Canyon. He still can’t give birth, can he?”

  “I bought some paint and wallpaper trim Friday evening,” Nikki said. “I’m going to start working on the baby’s bedroom in my spare time. Sheree has volunteered to help.”

  “She’s a wonderful friend,” Paula commented. “I’ll help, too, whenever I can. And if there’s any major work to be done, we’ll draft your Daddy and Sam.” She hugged her daughter close, then pulled back to give her a loving, maternal look. “You’re not alone in this, honey. Just remember that when you get to feeling down. We’re all here for you, and we’ll help you any way we can.”

  “I can’t believe you would even suggest such a thing!” Nikki exclaimed in disbelief. She held the phone out from her ear and eyed it as if it contained something evil. In a way, it did—the reprobate on the other end of the line, one ex-husband by the name of Scott Derringer. “That’s vile, Scott, even for you.”

  “Oh, grow up, Nichole,” he chided. “Open your eyes and live in the real world for a change.”

  “The real world?” she echoed. “You must mean the one you inhabit, where everybody changes bedpartners like a game of musical chairs. And why did you think I’d be willing to do likewise, Scott? I didn’t like it when we were married, so why would I go in for that sort of thing now?”

  “Well, I just figured that after that little jaunt you took to Mexico with your lover, you might have loosened up a bit since I last saw you,” he told her. “It was worth a shot.”

  “I’d like to give you a shot,” she retorted disgustedly. “A twelve-gauge in the vicinity of that zipper you can’t keep fastened. What’s the matter, dearie? You horny? Running short on fresh meat? Thought you’d tap the old tried-and-true stuff again? Well, forget it. You make me sick. I wouldn’t have you in my bed again if you were the last man on earth. I’d order a dildo first, and teach it to mow the lawn, which is more work than you ever did around the house. What’s more, how did you get my phone number? I just had it changed.”

  “I have a friend who works for the phone company. Nice little buxom redhead with a tattoo of a tarantula on one breast that looks like it’s moving when she breathes hard. And I can get her breathing really hard, too.”

  “You always did go nuts over boobs. I’m not just talking breasts here, either. Your friend sounds like a real class act, Scott. She’s also about to be unemployed. First thing in the morning, I’m calling the phone company and having her fired. I’m sure you’re not the only one who’s seen that spider jump. Then I’m getting my number changed again; and if you dare try to get it, to call me, or to show your face anywhere near me, I’ll slap you with a restraining order so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

  With that, Nikki slammed the phone in his ear. “God! What a scuzz-bucket! ” she ranted. “Someone ought to staple his zipper shut, with him in it!”

  September dragged by. Even as busy as she was with school, grading homework afterward, and decorating the new nursery, Nikki had too much time on her hands—too much time to think and to worry.

  Her house was an older two-story frame set in an earlier-established division with large lots and plenty of big shade trees. Nikki preferred the area and the house to those in the newer subdivisions. For one thing, there was both more privacy and more neighborliness, which should have been a contradiction but wasn’t. It was somewhat like living in a Norman Rockwell, old-town painting.

  Here, she had neighbors who watched out for each other and really seemed to care. She wasn’t as isolated as she would have been in a more rural setting—the mall was only a short drive away—but neither was she living in a busy section of town. The homes were older, but well kept, as were the lawns. Children could run and play and ride their bikes without fear of being run down by speeding motorists. Folks, old and young, visited across flowered borders and backyard fences. Families got together for block cookouts. Front porch swings were the norm rather than the exception. It was a very friendly place to live.

  Her home suited her. It was large enough to accommodate the family she’d hoped to have someday, yet small enough to be cozy. It wasn’t fancy and ultra-modern, but it was comfortable and it hadn’t cost her the earth to buy. Best of all, Scott had never set foot in it; she’d bought it a year after their divorce.

  Not counting the screened-in patio/mud room off the rear of the house, the downstairs consisted of four rooms—a living room and dining room linked by a wide archway, a moderate-sized kitchen with a window seat eating area, a smaller room in the back that she’d turned into a study, and a tiny bathroom. Upstairs, there was a larger bathroom and three good-sized bedrooms, above which was the attic. The basement was nothing to rave about, just a cement-block hole in the ground housing the furnace, water heater, and her washer and dryer; but Nikki had hopes of one day remodeling it and making a den or playroom down there.

  Outside was the requisite front porch, complete with swing, a two-car detached garage, a stone driveway, and a huge fenced-in back yard. The fence never kept Her Nibs corralled, but it did give the cat a safe haven from neighborhood dogs, lots of trees to climb, and an alternative to her litter box. Nikki had encircled the house with flowers of every type and hue and had spent a small fortune making sure she would have blossoms from early spring until frost.

  With Silver Thorn in mind, Nikki viewed her home with a fresh, critical eye, wondering what he would think of it. Would he find it too cramped,
too cluttered, too enclosing?

  Would he appreciate the appliances and carpeting and old oak woodwork, not to mention the convenience of a furnace, electricity, and indoor plumbing? Would he think the lampshades were too fancy, the furniture too soft, the curtains too frivolous?

  She wasn’t too concerned with the bathrooms, the kitchen, or her little office. There wasn’t much she could do to alter or improve them anyway. The nursery was coming along nicely, and the remaining spare bedroom was currently just a catchall. Mainly, it was the living room and her own bedroom that troubled her. Somehow, she just couldn’t envision Silver Thorn relaxing in either of them. The decor in each seemed too feminine, too frilly, now that she surveyed them with a more discerning eye.

  Wanting to change them, but needing to do so on a limited budget, Nikki was stymied. Her mother and Sheree came to her rescue, only too glad to contribute their opinions, as well as their time and talents. However, Paula thought perhaps Nikki was rushing things, that she should wait until Silver Thorn appeared to lend his own ideas to the decorating scheme.

  “You could misjudge what he would like, and all your efforts could be for nothing,” Paula said. “You don’t really have to do much of anything to it immediately. The nursery, yes, but the rest could wait awhile.”

  “I have to do this, Mom,” Nikki tried to explain. “It’s not merely to keep busy, but more something to bolster my hopes right now. To assure myself that he really will come.”

  “Besides,” Sheree put in, “I really can’t see any man being comfortable in a living room like this. A woman, yes. A man, a real man, no way. It’s altogether too froufrou, if you get my drift. Too many ruffles and frills, too much rose and mauve and berry, and the furniture is entirely too delicate. For one thing, that loveseat has to go, and that chair with the curved legs and tapestry cushion. A deep, long couch and an overstuffed recliner would be loads better. And a coffee table and end stand that are solid and stable.”

 

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