Magical Blessings

by Candace Colt

  The cat came up to Abby and sat down. “Donooowowo knoooweso hewoao.”

  “I think you very well know how. It’s the ‘why’ I don’t understand.” Abby put the doll back on the shelf.

  “Nooweowow,” Scarlet said.

  Abby gave the cat a squinty stare. “Who else but you would?”

  “It’s okay. I got this,” came a small voice. From the shelf?

  Abby picked up Scarlett and murmured into her ear. “Did you say that?”

  The cat shook her head, poked a paw toward the doll, and both slowly turned their gaze to the shelf.

  “Deidra explained about us, don’t you remember?” came the voice again.

  Abby considered calling her aunt for back up. “She didn’t say anything about you talking.”

  “Pretend I have hands, and I just did a facepalm. How else would we connect? We talk, but just to our matched humans. Not even to Deidra. With some help from your cat there, I got myself over to that man of yours.”

  “Man? Excuse me.” Abby squeezed Scarlett. “You don’t mean you went to Beau’s place?”

  “Who else? It isn’t easy to navigate with sticks for arms and legs, so I enlisted your furball.”

  With her eyes almost bugging out of her head, Scarlett frantically wriggled from Abby’s arms. Once the feline hit the floor, her paws spun like tires on ice. Scrambling for traction, all four feet finally coordinated, and she charged up the stairs to the apartment.

  “Some faithful ally she is,” the doll said with a small cackle.

  Abby cleared her throat. “You actually went to his place?”

  “That I did.”

  Abby frowned as she attempted to put the pieces together. Beau had returned Scarlett, but there’d been no sign of the doll.

  “So how’d you get there and back here?”

  “Got there in the glove.”

  Abby glanced toward the stairs. “With help?”

  “From the ally, yes.”

  “And back?” Abby asked.

  “Let me say, it gets mighty stuffy being zipped inside a casserole carrier.”

  “Huh?” That was impossible. That day at Beau’s, there’d been a little chicken and dumplings left over. She’d left it and the glass baking dish at his place and told him to keep the dish.

  She’d forgotten the carrier, and when Beau handed it to her, she’d assumed it was empty, and put it back in the cupboard. She hadn’t given it a thought. Until now.

  “How’d you get out?”

  “Afraid you’re going to see some scratch and bite marks on it.”

  “Scarlett?”

  “Took a bit of time, but she finally got a claw in the zipper pull and once she did, free sailing. Then she brought me back up here on the shelf.”

  “So you expect me to believe she got you in the glove, and out of it—?”

  “No, honey. Beau got me out.”

  “Whatever. You hid in a glove to ride to Beau’s. Then Scarlett got you into the carrier—?”

  “No. Beau put me in it.”

  Abby’s frustration threatened to blow the heck out of all of her chakras.

  “So Beau knew you were in that carrier when he brought it here?”

  “Yeah! You got one right! Care to go for the next level?”

  “I would not thank you. Now would you please explain why you went on a joyride to Beau Grayson’s place?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. Love, my dear.” The doll’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s all about love.”

  “Sorry? What?” Abby asked.

  “Shh! Deidra’s coming.” And with that, the doll went mute.

  “What the heck got into Scarlett?” Deidra picked up the doll. “Oh my. I swear her face color has changed. It’s actually much better than before. That settles it. I’m using blushing rose.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Even freshly detailed, an electrician’s truck was still an electrician’s truck. Beau hoped Abby wouldn’t be disappointed. It was either the truck or his Harley. Although the idea of her straddling the seat behind him was appealing, the bike probably wasn’t the best way to escort a lady to a fancy Ball.

  After washing, waxing, and vacuuming, he checked the time, and his knees buckled. He was due to pick up Abby in forty-five minutes. He took the ladder off the truck and put it inside the shop, then headed for a shower.

  He’d struggled with what to wear. Black tie? White tie? Business suit? Tactical pants and a sweatshirt would have turned heads but in the wrong way. His sister’s wedding two years ago had been country-themed, and thankfully, the three-piece suit he’d worn for that still fit, though it was snug around the arms.

  In his jacket pocket, he found the tie that he’d taken off as soon as his sister said: “I do.” His black Western boots had shined up great.

  The man in the mirror looked darn good, but the real man was shaking down to his toes. If he was nervous, how must Abby feel?

  What went through her mind when she opened that bag? Did Abby know the thing talked? Or that it considered itself to be a matchmaker?

  Going to this shindig had been arranged long before the doll’s visit. He sure wouldn’t bring it up tonight in hopes it would all go away—like it never happened.

  With two minutes to spare, he parked in front of The Magic Potter. Beau debated throwing the truck into gear and riding off into the sunset. No. He’d made a commitment. And he’d even put on a damn tie. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and got out of the truck. He’d been up the walkway many times, but tonight the path was longer than he’d ever remembered.

  Poised to knock on the front door, he hesitated. This might be one of the last times he’d see Abby. If things had been different and they’d met sooner if they’d had more time together if this date wasn’t because he’d lost a bet.

  Maybe they’d have been a great couple.

  How could she or any woman want him? He didn’t have anything to offer except a struggling business that barely supported him, let alone a wife and family. She was a great woman who deserved someone better than him, and he wasn’t about to let that stupid doll interfere.

  He straightened his collar and tie, swallowed, and tapped on the door.

  When Abby appeared, his breath caught. Was he dreaming? Was this knock-down gorgeous woman going out with him? At this rate, there wouldn’t be one single word tonight that he didn’t muck up.

  “Wow, Beau. You look amazing.” Abby’s ruby red lips spread into a sexy smile as she quickly scanned him from head to toe.

  “Oh my God,” she squealed. “Wait right here.” She left him standing in the studio and raced upstairs. Okay. Weird. At least he hadn’t had time to screw up any words. In fact, he hadn’t had time to say anything.

  She bounded down the stairs and twirled in front of him. “How’s this?”

  “Beautiful,” he managed.

  “Thanks, but I meant these.” She pointed to her feet.

  He forced his eyes off her face, stunning hair, and how her low-cut dress hugged her curves. When he realized she’d changed shoes into a pair of well-worn cowgirl boots, delight flooded over him.

  He held her hand, the same one he’d kissed, as helped her into the truck cab. “Hope you don’t mind r—iding in this?”

  “Not at all.” She settled in and snapped the seat belt.

  Once they arrived at the Sherwood House, the parking attendant, a kid of eighteen or nineteen, tried to wave them out of the valet line. When Beau lowered the window and explained they were guests, the kid shrugged.

  “Can you drive a stick shift?” At the kid’s terrified expression, Beau laughed. “Just show me where I park it.”

  The kid pointed to a black Lexus sedan. “Follow him.”

  “Can the lady w—ait here?” Beau asked.

  “Nonsense. I’m going with you,” Abby said.

  Beau parked in the farthest lane from the building. Abby grabbed her wrap, and they started back to the well-lit entrance of the house
.

  “Sorry for t—his,” he said.

  “For what? I’m wearing boots, remember?”

  Since it was dark, and they’d parked on the grass, Beau cupped Abby’s elbow to guide her. The Sherwood House was an imposing sight. The two enormous columns, one on either side of the porch, always reminded Beau of soldiers standing guard. Before climbing the steps to the front door, they exchanged anxious glances.

  “Guess there’s no turning back now.” Abby’s voice quaked.

  “Guess not,” he said.

  Inside the expansive, and noisy foyer, they stopped first at a check-in table. Servers circulated with trays of glasses filled with champagne. Beau took two and offered one to Abby. The entire interior of the mansion had been decorated to the max with red and gold hearts, streamers, and cupids.

  They walked through each of the side rooms where there were tables loaded with food. Beau was starving, but he didn’t want to embarrass Abby by stuffing his face.

  “Look! There’s a whole table of shrimp.” Abby took Beau’s hand, and together, they snaked their way across the room.

  He was relieved that his appetite overcame the jitters and that Abby seemed to be enjoying herself. After feasting on the shrimp, they moved on to a hot hors d’oeuvre table, then to a table with ribs and wings.

  “Hold on.” Abby grabbed a napkin.

  He put his fingers on hers as she wiped a smear of barbeque sauce off his chin. “You can dr—ess an e—lectrician up, but good l—uck t—aking one out.”

  “Nonsense. Did you see the man who looked like he’d bathed in guacamole?”

  They shared a laugh, and Beau’s nerves settled further, though he sweated like crazy under that jacket.

  “The band’s starting. Let’s get closer,” Abby said.

  Beau spotted a cash bar on the way to the great room where the band was set up.

  “Can I buy you a b—eer?” He asked.

  Abby put her half-finished champagne glass on a table. “Absolutely!”

  They stood at the back of the dance floor and listened to the band. Beside him, Abby quietly swayed with the music. Should he ask her to dance? He put his empty bottle on a tray.

  More people crowded into the room and onto the dance floor. It was getting hotter by the minute.

  “It’s stifling,” Abby said.

  Grateful she seemed as uncomfortable as he was, Beau suggested they go outside for air. She offered her hand, and together they navigated through the crowd to a doorway leading to the garden.

  At an outdoor bar, Beau bought each of them another beer. The atmosphere outside was quieter and twenty degrees cooler.

  An older couple came up behind them. “Excuse me, but I think you dropped this inside.”

  Abby turned. “My wrap! Oh, gosh, I didn’t even realize it. Thank you so much.” She draped the wrap over her shoulder.

  “You’re Abby Blessing, aren’t you?” The woman asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Remember me from the studio? I’m Dot.” The woman looped her arm into the man’s arm next to her and gave him a peck on the cheek. “And this handsome man beside me is Mel. I guess you heard the good news about us from your mother. We’re going to be married.”

  Beau noticed Abby’s jaw drop, then shut.

  After the happy couple went back inside, Beau leaned close to Abby. “She b—ought one of those dolls, d—idn’t she?”

  “Yep.”

  Oh God. And engaged in a week? Beau’s heart skipped beats.

  Abby rocked back and forth. “The doll told me everything.”

  The question about getting the thing back on the shelf was answered. “Let’s t—ake a walk.”

  Tiny LED lights hung from trees throughout the formal English garden. Beau had lost the bid on this decorating job, but the other company had done competent work. Still, if he’d gotten the contract, he would have made sure the stone walkways were illuminated better.

  “It looks like a fairyland,” Abby said.

  Beau chuckled as he looked into her twinkling eyes. “Well, fairies do live a—round here. Interested in wal—king the maze?”

  “Yes, let’s do it. As a kid, I’d pretend to be Alice in the labyrinth. I was always afraid I’d get lost and never be able to find my way out.”

  “I promise that won’t hap—pen.” Beau led Abby to a small gate that opened to rows of enormously high hedges lit every few feet by tiny uplights.

  “Should we go in?” she asked.

  “Gate’s un—locked, and I have my p—hone flashlight.”

  “I wish there were moonlight,” she said in a quiet voice.

  As they approached the gate, another couple came toward them. Beau recognized Flynn Bell and his wife, Suzette. Beau hadn’t heard about his bid on the security lights yet, but it was the wrong time to bring it up.

  Beau introduced Abby to Flynn and Suzette.

  “I’m glad to catch up with you, Beau,” Flynn said. “I’ve made my decision.”

  “Oh?” Beau’s stomach churned.

  “You all the way. The new company shot a lower bid, but after seeing how they cut corners on this Sherwood House job, I wouldn’t go with them if they were the last ones on earth.”

  “Thank you.” Barely able to contain his relief, Beau vigorously shook Flynn’s hand. “I’ll be in touch on Monday.”

  “Looking forward to it. Enjoy your walk. The maze takes on a whole new feel at night.”

  “Congratulations! See, I told you so,” Abby said. “He appreciates you and your work.”

  “The Bells made it th—rough the maze. Still game?”

  “Sure.” Abby moved closer to Beau until their arms touched. “Don’t leave me, okay?”

  “Never.” Beau turned on his phone’s flashlight. “Up ahead is a foun—tain.”

  At the next turn, the path widened to a circle. In the middle was the lighted fountain surrounded by concrete benches.

  Beau bowed. “May I offer you a seat, Mi—lady?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I guess we sh—ould make a t—oast,” Beau said.

  Abby ran her finger around the side of her beer bottle. “Please. Let’s do.”

  They clinked their bottles. “Happy V—alentine’s Day,” he said.

  Even in the low light, he could see the slow smile that crossed her lips.

  “And to you,” she said quietly as she tightened her wrap. “It’s cooler than I thought it would be.”

  He set his beer on the bench, then put his jacket around her shoulders. As his fingers brushed her smooth skin, desire welled up inside him. What was the matter with him? They were here because of a deal with a cat. That was all. He made a mental note to pay Kristy the money he owed her.

  “Scarlett was one of the Christmas kittens abandoned at Coquina Castle, and they think she’s a Sherwood cat.” Abby pulled his jacket tighter.

  “She tells that story to every—body,” Beau said with a laugh.

  “Scarlett’s a pint-sized diva, but she means well. I hope Theo knows what to do with all that loot when she gets home.” Beau detected sadness in Abby’s voice that matched what was in his heart.

  “And then what?” Beau asked.

  “I’m off. Until I can find a job and get back on my feet, I’ll stay with my parents,” she said.

  That doll’s words flashed into his mind. The universe. Zeus. Aphrodite. Harry Potter. Take your pick. It doesn’t matter who. It matters that you get together.

  But what if Abby didn’t feel the same?

  “Have you con—sidered stay—ing in Cat’s Paw Cove?”

  “Before I came back to Theo’s wedding, no.”

  “And now?”

  “The people here are so welcoming. They couldn’t care less if a person has peculiar magical gifts or, like me, have none. One minute you might talk to an out-of-towner who has no clue what goes on here. The next, you’re at a dance with psychics, mediums, ghosts, and witches.” She put her hand on his thigh. “Or maybe sit
ting in the middle of a maze with a handsome electrician who speaks to animals.”

  Her touch sent a charge coursing through his body. And he liked it. And he would miss her beyond belief.

  From the ballroom, the easy notes of a slow song floated toward them. He longed to hold her in his arms, but did he have the courage to ask her to dance?

  By God or Harry Potter, he damn well did!

  He stood and extended his hand. “Would you do me the h—onor?”

  She turned her gaze and laid his jacket on the bench. She’d rejected the offer.

  The doll’s words were a crock. He started to withdraw his hand when Abby slipped hers into it and stood at his side.

  Before she could change her mind, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Another wave of electricity went through him as her hands trailed up his chest and interlocked behind his neck.

  “Did the doll say anything special to you?” Abby whispered.

  “Just small talk.”

  “You said that once before, and I believed you then. Don’t kid me. You know about those dolls, don’t you?”

  Abby’s sweet perfume filled his senses.

  “I do now,” he said.

  At a polite distance apart, they silently swayed to the music until he could no longer resist. Beau eased her closer. She put her forehead on his chest as he nuzzled her soft curly hair. Her body against his was warm and comforting.

  When the song ended, neither of them made a move to part. Having her in his arms was so right. He tipped her chin up and placed a gentle kiss on her full lips.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “What for?”

  “For the d—ance. For tol—erating my speech. For your h—elp. For being you.”

  Another broad smile creased Abby’s face. “Let’s take these one at a time.”

  She returned a kiss. “For the dance.” Then another. “For tolerating my organizing mania.” Then another. “For being you.”

  Her third, deeper kiss hinted that she wanted more. Or was this just his own desire building?

  When they finally broke the kiss, his mind nearly exploded as she seductively licked her slightly swollen lips. Did she have the same feelings for him as he for her? Or was she impulsively caught up in the beautiful evening?