Claude reached out and caught her arm when she pushed away from the post. “Leave him be, honey. He’s still on the job. Is the other guy his officer from Turtleback?” he asked as the three men began talking.
“No, I’ve never seen him before. Cole Wyatt is blond. The guy who just came out of the cottage is Jake Sheppard, and he covers Spellbound Falls. Mom said Niall is supposed to hire one more officer, so there will be two stationed in each—” Birch stopped talking when Niall suddenly looked at the main house, first glancing at the upstairs windows, then dropping his gaze to the porch. She saw him say something to Jake while still looking at her and Claude, and Jake headed for his truck as Niall and the stranger started toward them—both men limping and looking like death warmed over.
“Mon Dieu, what were they doing all night?” she softly hissed.
“No questions, Birch,” Claude said quietly, using his grip on her arm to lead her toward the stairs. “You let Niall do the talking. And from the look in both men’s eyes, I suggest you smile and nod and agree with whatever either of them says.”
Chapter Nineteen
Niall was afraid he might pass out before he ever reached his bed, the Scotch-laced coffee he’d had at Duncan’s house doing little to help his exhaustion. One more duty to perform and then he intended to sleep for twenty-four hours, more than willing to let the state police sort out the mess on the island and draw their own conclusions as to what had happened there last night.
They were, after all, better equipped to deal with multiple bodies.
As he and Dante headed to the main house, Niall noticed the broken window and mangled roof on Claude’s vehicle, although he wasn’t really surprised, considering all the reports of storm damage the sheriff’s office had been receiving since midnight. But he’d learned only half an hour ago, when he’d finally made it back to his truck and checked his cell phone, that the destruction had reached the western shoreline.
After a fast, cold ride to Duncan’s house to change into dry clothes, bandage a few gashes, and swallow several mugs of coffee, Duncan had shot Niall, Nicholas, and Dante across the fiord to the marina in his speedboat, since Nicholas’s powerful fishing boat was now sitting some four hundred feet down on the floor of Bottomless.
As they turned up the walkway, Niall could tell Birch was dying to ask what was going on as she stood at the bottom of the stairs holding her bathrobe closed at the throat, but her father’s hand on her arm appeared to be keeping her quiet. Then again, he’d learned early on that even though the lass had a bit of a temper, she also had the sense to know when to keep it in check.
Niall stopped in front of them, doing his damnedest not to notice Birch giving him a silent inspection, her eyes filled with worry. “Birch, Claude, I’d like you to meet Dante. And this is Birch Callahan,” he told Dante, “the director of the Crisis Center, and her father, Claude. Dante’s here because he’s been living at the colony for a couple of months and is in fact the man who helped Macie escape.”
Birch looked at Dante in surprise. “Macie said a man named Dan helped her.”
Dante shrugged. “They know me as Dan at the settlement.”
“He’s actually a security guard at Nova Mare,” Niall said, the five men having decided at Duncan’s house exactly what they would tell everyone, knowing half-truths were always better than whispered speculation. “But because of the mob protesting what they consider a cult, Mac Oceanus decided to have one of his men join the colony to see what was really going on.” He glanced at the screen door. “Is Macie up yet?”
“I . . . I don’t think so,” Birch said, clutching her robe again. “Why?”
Niall shifted his stance when the gash in his thigh went from throbbing to burning. “You know that Macie told us the new leader was trying to create a . . . mythical god. Well, last night Sebastian held another ceremony out on an island that sits halfway down on the other side of Bottomless,” Niall continued when Birch nodded. “All the colonists were there, including Dante, when a storm developed over the water and slammed into the island. I happen to know,” he said dryly, “because Nicholas and I and Alec and Duncan were on the eastern mainland watching through binoculars.”
“Why?” Birch whispered, her gaze darting to Dante then back to Niall. “Despite what the protesters think, everyone in town seems to feel the colonists are harmless.”
“Macie obviously doesn’t,” Niall reminded her. “And last night we just wanted to make sure all they were sacrificing was food.”
“There was a lot of damage to the campground I was staying at,” Claude said. “The wind uprooted trees, tore up tents, and even blew over large campers.”
“Aye, so I’ve heard,” Niall said with a nod. “The destruction appears to be a couple of miles wide along the western shoreline, but seems to have stopped at the main road.” He looked at Birch. “The storm nearly leveled the island, and the reason I’m asking about Macie is because the father of her babe, Johnny, was hurt.”
“Oh no,” Birch said on a soft gasp. “How badly?”
“He was taken to the hospital in Millinocket and, last I heard, was in surgery to repair a broken leg. Johnny’s a good man, Birch, and Macie has so much as admitted to me that she loves him. I’m sure she’d want to be with him now.”
“Of course,” Birch said without hesitation, stepping free of her father’s hold. “I’ll go wake her up and . . .” She frowned in thought. “I’ll have Mom drive her to Millinocket. And I’ll ask Cassandra to go with them; she must know where the hospital is, and I’m sure she’ll also want to stay with Macie,” she added as she ran up the stairs. She stopped at the top and looked down at them. “What about the other colonists? Macie lived there almost a year, and she’ll want to know if any of her friends were hurt.”
Niall shifted his stance again and nodded. “Five men are confirmed dead, although Dante said they’d all arrived at the settlement just recently. Several others were also taken to the hospital, and three men are still unaccounted for—lost at sea, we believe, when they tried to make it back to the mainland in a canoe. You can tell Macie all the women miraculously escaped unscathed but for some minor scratches and being scared half to death. And Birch?” he softly added. “Also tell her that Sebastian is one of the men who was killed, as I’m sure that’s something Johnny will ask when she’s finally able to see him.”
Birch’s beautiful and worried eyes darted to Dante, then back to Niall. “You got caught in the storm, too. The shirt you’re wearing says MacKeage Construction, and you’re limping.”
He mustered the energy to give a negligent shrug. “It’s nothing a few aspirin and twenty-four hours of sleep won’t fix.”
She stared at him for several heartbeats, nodded and grabbed the door handle, but then turned back. “Does Dante . . .” She shifted her gaze and spoke directly to him. “Do you want to go to the hospital to see Johnny?”
“Thank you, no,” Dante said. “But I wouldn’t mind getting a ride as far as the settlement entrance. I’d like to be there for the others.”
Niall had to give the man credit; even though Nicholas had urged him to return to Nova Mare, Dante had insisted on helping the surviving colonists, even though he was one step away from falling into a coma himself.
But hell, fighting demons was damned exhausting.
And something Niall had decided he never, ever wanted to do again.
“I can give you a ride,” Claude interjected. “And maybe I can be of some help to the colonists.” He looked at Niall. “If you’re going to be passed out in bed, will Officer Sheppard be running patrols by here today?” he asked. “In case a husband should come looking for his wife?”
“Jake will be staying right in town. And my four-legged officer will be here,” Niall added as he gestured at Shep, who was still keeping his distance and looking thoroughly disgusted. Niall didn’t know if the dog couldn’t stand the smell of
demon blood or was merely pissed at being left behind last night. Hell, they could have used Shep about the time they’d found themselves swimming to the island in the middle of a mythical battle. “Birch,” he said as she opened the screen door. “Our deal stands. You’ll be staying nearby, too, preferably right here at home.”
She stared at him again, then suddenly shot him a smile that was far more spitfire than friendly. “Why of course, Chief MacKeage. I wouldn’t dream of having you hauled out of bed to come rescue poor helpless me. Again,” she snapped, disappearing through the door.
Niall dropped his head with a heavy sigh, even as he heard Claude chuckle.
Claude walked up beside him and stood facing Bottomless. “She might be a little cranky this morning, but she’s not stupid. And I’d bet my bankbook she spent a restless night worried about you, just like she used to worry about me.” He looked at Niall and grinned. “It appears to me she’s acting more like a girlfriend than a neighbor,” he said dryly. He gestured at Dante to follow as he headed to his car. “Come on, Dante; let’s get going before you fall asleep on your feet. I hope you don’t mind the sound of fresh air whistling through broken windows.”
• • •
Thoroughly mesmerized by the nearly full moon reflecting off the gentle swells of Bottomless, Birch sat on the top step of the porch with her chin resting in her hands, too damn tired even to blink. She had intended to take a nap this afternoon to make up for the sleep she’d lost last night, but instead had spent the day settling her new residents in for what she was afraid might be a long stay.
Francine—she’d refused to tell Birch her last name or where she was from—had arrived with no identification, no money, nor any clothes other than what she and her daughter—the girl’s name was Emily—had been wearing. They’d been on the road four days, Francine had said, the first three days aimlessly getting rides as well as food from kind-looking women they would approach at grocery stores in various towns. But after hearing from one Good Samaritan about the new Spellbound Falls Crisis Center, Francine had focused solely on getting here, certain it would be the last place on Earth her husband would look for them.
Birch had noted their dirty clothes not only were good quality and up to fashion, but metropolitan rather than rural—although they very well could have been purchased at a thrift shop in a large city. And from the way the two of them said certain words—though they had no obvious accent—Birch was fairly certain that large city was in Canada. Possibly Quebec City, since it was closest and there were dozens of backcountry logging roads crossing the border, or maybe Fredericton or even Saint John, New Brunswick, if they’d entered Maine from the east.
Birch figured a few days of rest and regular meals, as well as the camaraderie of the other residents, would go a long way to getting the hunted look out of their eyes. But once they realized they truly were safe, she would gently start pressing Francine to open up about what she was running from, and explain they needed a starting point from which to build her and Emily a new, independent life free of fear. And if they were indeed Canadian citizens, she’d figure out how to deal with that problem when it actually became a problem.
Once she’d gotten her mom and Cassandra and a very frantic Macie on their way to Millinocket, Birch had started calling around looking for clothes and personal items for her new residents. God bless Peg MacKeage, who had a daughter Emily’s age, and Vanetta, who was very close to Francine’s size, for digging through their own closets, as both women had shown up within an hour carrying huge boxes overflowing with entire wardrobes, right down to underwear and pajamas. Peg had also brought entertainment for Emily: age-appropriate DVDs and magazines, and even an electronic tablet already loaded with e-books and games. Vanetta had included makeup in her box, claiming a little primping on the outside went a long way toward making a woman feel beautiful and confident on the inside.
Rana Oceanus had arrived in her zippy little cart laden down with groceries, as well as a couple of pairs of shoes, a raincoat, and even a nice purse for Francine. Julia had shown up with enough grooming products to keep everyone smelling wonderful for a year, along with a box from Olivia containing laundry detergent, some of her daughter Sophie’s clothes, and a pink backpack for Emily.
Oh yeah; the famous five were freaking fabulous.
But the next time residents arrived possessing only the clothes on their backs, Birch now knew she’d better state what she needed rather than just say . . . everything. Mon Dieu, even after Francine and Emily had taken armfuls upstairs it was still standing-room-only in the kitchen.
That would be the same kitchen Birch had spent four freaking hours cleaning up from last night’s dinner and then reorganizing so she could reach everything.
Her dad had called in the late afternoon to say he was spending the night at the colony, which he’d discovered was quite a nice, self-sufficient facility. Far from being a cult, he’d told Birch, the colonists were really just a bunch of New Agers more interested in tapping into the kind of magic that turned freshwater lakes into seas than in creating a new god. Claude had then added in a whisper that the stories he was hearing from the survivors about what had happened on that island were even wilder than the storm, but that he’d save the details for another day because he’d had to go help . . . milk the goats.
And God bless her mom; Hazel had returned from Millinocket with news that Johnny would be just fine, but without Cassandra and Macie, having used her personal credit card so they could stay at a motel within walking distance of the hospital and given them all the money in her wallet for meals. The ladies were set for clothes, apparently, because while Birch had headed downstairs to dress after waking them up, Hazel had gone to their rooms and suggested they throw a few things in a backpack.
Oh yeah; her mom was also freaking fabulous.
No matter the crisis, Hazel always seemed to catch overlooked details or come up with a plan of action before anyone else did. And her newly acquired expertise appeared to rival Cassandra’s when it came to sneaking off—in Hazel’s case to go meet a full-grown, unmarried, and apparently mysterious man at the local watering hole. Her mom’s little after-dinner walk this evening had lasted three hours, and the woman had returned home with an added spring in her step and a wine stain on her blouse.
Birch didn’t know how Claude expected her to keep Hazel away from Sam, considering they were both adults. Besides, Niall hadn’t seemed worried about them spending the day in Turtleback alone together, but in fact had been amused by her concern. And she was more inclined to trust the judgment of someone who knew Sam personally rather than secondhand information heard in a bar.
Mon Dieu, if she didn’t know better she might think Claude simply didn’t want any competition while he went after Hazel himself. And that had Birch changing her mind about him getting struck by lightning last night, deciding instead that something had to have happened in Montreal to make him throw away his career and move to Maine.
Then again, if she could talk to birds and trees—and the trees talked back—what was to say she and her father didn’t share some freaky gene that made them do things others might see as out of character or downright strange? Birch had always thought she’d inherited her decisiveness from Grand-mémère Hynes, but maybe her deal-with-the-consequences-later approach was really Claude’s fault.
Birch straightened when she caught the hint of a sound and looked over at Niall’s cottage to see the door crack open and Shep come barreling outside. She held her watch up to the moonlight and saw it was half past eleven, which meant Niall had slept nearly sixteen hours straight.
“Well, big man,” she said out loud, standing up and making sure her robe covered her I don’t freaking care baggy pajama pants and oversized top, “I hope you still plan to sleep another eight, because I’m about to pass out draped over your amazing muscles.”
Birch picked up the basket she’d packed with turkey sandw
iches and a huge piece of the cake Rana had brought, then walked down the steps and started across the yard. “Don’t worry, I brought something for you, too,” she said with a laugh when Shep bounded over and started prancing beside her and nosing the basket. She stopped and pulled out the large beef bone she’d cut off the humungous roast Rana had also brought and held it just out of his reach. “But the deal is you have to eat it outside, so you don’t make a greasy mess inside.”
Shep immediately sat down, licking his drooling lips as he stared at her—no, at the bone—in eager, puppy-dog anticipation.
“And when you’re done and after you’ve washed the grease off you with a swim in the sea, just give a bark at the door and I’ll let you back in. Deal?”
Figuring his impatient woof was as close to a yes as she’d get, Birch handed him the bone and then sighed when he bolted toward the beach without so much as a thank-you. She smoothed down her robe and continued across the yard, making sure the truck in the driveway was Niall’s—only to go perfectly still on a silent gasp at the sight of the huge bald eagle perched on the rack of lights on the roof of the pickup.
Well, she was pretty sure it was a bald eagle, even though its signature solid white head appeared to be coated with dried mud or fish guts or . . . something. There was enough moonlight to see that its body feathers also looked tattered and that one of its wings was drooping slightly, making her wonder if the poor thing hadn’t also gotten caught in last night’s storm.
Were eagles’ territories twenty miles long? Did they even have territories?
Birch guessed she was going to have to order a book about birds.
“Hello there,” she whispered, although for the life of her she didn’t know why she was talking to it, even as she hoped to God it didn’t start talking back like the tree had. She glanced toward the cottage, then inched closer to the front of the truck. “Did your son or daughter tell you a gullible lady lives here and hands out food? Well, for the record, your kid paid for the pie with a barrette.”
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