Gillian smiled at the look on her friend’s face and said, “Chocolate?”
Reggie’s eyes widened with avarice. “Chocolate is my love-ah.”
Gillian laughed and Reggie added. “Sadly, the only lover I have at the moment.”
“I baked brownies with nuts and marshmallows. If you weren’t so keyed up when you walked in, you would have smelled them. I’ll just get you a plate, shall I?” Gillian left the living room.
Unwilling to let her out of her sight, Reggie followed. A little less than patient, she leaned against the counter. She snagged the first brownie Gillian put on the plate and stuffed it in her mouth. She rolled her eyes. Bliss.
Sheriff Travis Sinclair burst through the kitchen door. He tended to do that when he was riled up.
He pinned Reggie with a dark look. “What the hell are you thinking?” He was followed by Chase, who pulled up a kitchen chair and calmly straddled it. He handed Reggie her forgotten shoes.
Figures, he’d find the sandals. Damn it, how did he make the simple act of sitting, look so sexy? Reggie shifted uncomfortably. She grabbed another brownie with one hand and used the other to slip her sandals back on.
To Chase, she said, “Stoolie, rat fink.”
She turned to Travis with shoulders back and head held high. Coquettishly, she smiled and in perfect Scarlett O’Hara inflection, she said, “Why, Sheriff, you do tend to burst into a room and overwhelm a girl, lordy, my…my…my…I’ll get the vapors, I swear I will…” She fanned herself with her hand.
Gillian and Chase laughed.
Travis ignored them. “You’re not going near that damn Bennett library alone, do you hear me? My gut tells me there’s something stewing up at that place and it’s not good.”
Reggie wasn’t impressed. “Your gut sure is a blabber mouth, and so is your friend here.” She wrinkled her nose at Chase and said, “What? Did you rat me out as soon as I pulled out of the driveway?”
“You’d just started the car actually. I told Sam too,” Chase said implacably. She couldn’t help but smile.
Travis failed to see the humor. “Stop it, both of you. This is no joke. I’m going to call Aunt Ernestine and get her take on all of this.”
In a quiet tone that brooked no argument, Chase said, “No, you’re not. This is something Reggie and I will handle. If Ernestine’s counsel as Guardian is needed, Reggie and I will seek it. I just thought you needed to know, you being Sheriff and all.”
Travis, never one to take no for an answer, confronted his buddy. “Not bloody good enough, Chase. You know Reggie has no special abilities, she’d be virtually helpless if things go the way I’m afraid they will.”
Gillian cringed at Travis’s words. Instinctively, as if trying to cushion the blow, she reached out as Reggie looked down at her hands, shoulders stooped.
Oblivious, Chase faced off with Travis, “Back off, Sheriff. She’s never needed Rebecca Goode’s gift in order to be powerful. So what? On her fourteenth birthday, she didn’t wake with some mysterious gift like everyone hoped…expected even. I was with her today, she did just fine.”
Regret showed in Travis’s handsome face as he addressed Reggie. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded, Reg. I’m sorry. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
With grace, Reggie accepted his apology. “I understand Travis and I appreciate your concern, but you can’t stop me from pursuing this thing. If it concerns Bennett House, I couldn’t ignore it, even if I wanted to. We’re connected.”
As if to support her statement, Hank chose that moment to bark. Travis looked at him and scowled.
Gillian walked to the man she loved and stroked his face. “By the way, Travis, honey, I’m with Reggie and Chase.”
He looked down at her with love written over every inch of him and sighed. “I know. You didn’t have to waste time putting it into words. I got it.” He put an arm around Gillian and said to Chase, “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”
Reggie looked outraged, “Oh, since—”
“I promise, she’ll be safe,” Chase said, ignoring her. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
* * * *
His kiss had been just as she’d remembered it. Why did it have to feel so right to be in his arms? Her body had responded as if it belonged there. Behind the wheel of her car, Reggie couldn’t help but take out that other memory from so many years ago and savor it just for a minute.
Aunt Ernestine’s annual birthday bash. As a descendant of the founding sisters and the town’s Guardian, Ernestine Sinclair commanded a great deal of love and respect. It showed in the elaborate preparations for the event and the feeling of anticipation that permeated the whole town. For the first time ever, Reggie had been reluctant to attend. Another fight with her boyfriend had led to an impasse, and she’d ended the relationship. Still feeling raw, the last thing she wanted to do was make merry, but she loved Ernestine too much to miss her big day. The champagne tasted so good and went down so easily, she started to feel better. Dancing with every young man there, she was the life of the party, until Chase stepped in and soberly claimed her for a slow dance.
“Had enough yet?” he said, his chin grazing the top of her head.
“If you’re asking me if I’ve had enough of you, the answer is yes. If you’re asking me if I’ve had enough fun, I’d have to say not by a long shot.”
Tipsy, she tried to pull away from him, but he held her fast. He was quiet for a few moments and Reggie wondered if he’d ever respond. She took a breath and opened her mouth to say something, but he interrupted her.
“For once, Reggie, just shut up and dance with me.”
The emotion in his voice took her by surprise, and she tilted her head back to look at him. With a hand on the back of her head, he rested her cheek against his chest. They danced as one. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation. She could feel the muscles in his chest flex and it felt wonderful against her sensitive breasts.
The song ended and another started, but still they clung to each other, ignoring their surroundings. In that moment, the world consisted of Chase and Reggie alone. Slowly, he bent his head and kissed her. There was nothing brotherly about how he took her lips, and she responded without thought. He splayed a large hand on her lower back and pressed her body closer to his. He used the other to cup her face. The close contact made it impossible for him to hide his body’s response to her. It thrilled her, and she moved her hips against his. Her thighs trembled. He stopped, dragging his mouth from hers. She made a sound of protest and followed his talented lips wanting more, but he stopped her. Grasping her upper arms, he gave her a little shake.
Reggie looked up at him, mystified. She couldn’t interpret what she saw in his eyes. Was it pity, regret? The champagne haze dissolved, and all that was left was cold, harsh reality. She shook her head, much preferring the hazy world to this new, stark one. The one where Chase McCann kissed her then rejected her.
“I think that’s enough, Reggie. I’ll get Sam to take you home.” He backed away and left her standing alone. She wanted to go after him, demand an explanation, but she was rooted to the spot. She hadn’t moved an inch when Sam found her, and she made no objections when he drove her home.
Chase had never again shown any inclination to kiss her until a few months ago when both their lives had been threatened. He’d come to rescue her, and she’d been so happy to see him alive that she had launched herself at him. They had kissed each other with relief and with growing passion, or at least that’s what Reggie had thought, until the next day when she’d gone to the hospital to see him and found him gone. They still hadn’t talked about what had happened.
But just yesterday at Bennett House, he’d kissed her again. And what a kiss! She touched her tongue to her top lip, remembering the taste of him. It was essence of Chase McCann, gourmet cuisine. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was spiraling out of control.
With well-practiced self-discipline, Reggie forced all thoug
hts of him aside and parked the car close to the front entrance. Her dog, Pru, knew exactly where they were headed and showed her excitement by wagging her tail and looking over her shoulder with doggy impatience.
“I’m going as fast as I can, so calm down, will you?” Reggie’s entreaty was ignored as Pru barked at her. Finally, she opened the passenger door. The little dog jettisoned out of the car and ran to her favorite spot. Reggie didn’t bother to enter the lobby of the Seniors Residence. Like Pru, she knew exactly where Ernestine Sinclair would be at this time of the morning. She made her way there, but with a little less haste.
When she rounded the last bend in the pathway, she couldn’t help but smile. Her little dog lay splayed on the ground, her pink belly exposed as Ernestine made a great fuss over her.
The old lady looked up. She smiled widely, and the lines on her face deepened but somehow that smile made her look younger, immortal. Of course she wasn’t, though with power like hers, Reggie wouldn’t have been surprised if the old girl did live forever.
Ernestine Sinclair was Guardian of New Crescent. She’d inherited her power from her ancestor Elizabeth Goode. She watched over the people of the town, protecting their secrets from outsiders. Ernestine always knew when trouble was brewing and guided the town to safety. Her advice was followed, her word was respected, and her wisdom was unfailing. Most New England towns had histories filled with tragedy, hurricanes, bigotry, shipwrecks, disease, financial disaster or juicy scandal, but not New Crescent. The Guardians had always protected their little town from such things. Ernestine had been Guardian since her twenties, just after her mother died. Like so many before her, she’d inherited her gift on the morning of her fourteenth birthday. Six a.m. on that fateful day, she had woken feeling different. There had been a potency to the air she’d never felt before. She’d laughed in wonder as Mother Nature’s intentions became clear to her and she knew that one day she’d be a Guardian of New Crescent. As she grew up she’d accepted her awesome responsibility. There was potential for good and evil in the town’s future. Ernestine had a duty to steer it in the right direction, and at the tender age of fourteen, she’d embraced the awesome responsibility of safeguarding the fate of the town and its citizens. For years, Ernestine had prepared herself for what was to come. The old lady knew what Reggie needed from her.
For Ernestine, as for all Guardians, free will was sacrosanct and as such she’d learned not to influence others too directly. She’d tried to let events play out naturally without interference.
As the last female child in Rebecca Goode’s direct line, much had been expected of Regina Stanton. The Old Families had anxiously awaited her fourteenth birthday. She’d received many gifts, but not the most desired of all. Everyone tried not to let her see it, but the tension in the town grew to mammoth proportions in the days leading up to the fateful birthday. At last they’d heard the sad news. She’d been passed over. Their collective disappointment had been palpable. Young Reggie had felt like she’d failed all those she cared about, and she’d carried that guilt around with her every day since.
Ernestine wisely understood that in an effort to lighten her burden, Reggie used humor as a defense mechanism. She didn’t even bother to try and make lemonade out of lemons. Instead, she made orange juice. Reggie decided that since she’d never have supernatural abilities, she’d make sure no one could fault her natural abilities. No one worked harder than Reggie.
And no one cared more about New Crescent or knew more about what made the town tick than Reggie did. Even the ladies of the New Crescent Historical Society or those who ran the Wicca Museum on Main Street, used her as a source when they sought information about New Crescent. She had the knowledge and dedication, but not the gift.
Sitting on the bench beside Ernestine, Reggie wanted details. She’d never asked for this kind of favor before because she’d never felt it was her place and Ernestine hadn’t offered it up, but today, she’d have to insist. She needed information that wasn’t recorded, the kind passed down verbally from Guardian to Guardian
Dispensing with small talk, Reggie got right to it. “I know everything there is to know about the history of Bennett House, Aunt Ernestine. Now you have to tell me what’s not written down.”
The old lady sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, there was a light in them that awed Reggie.
“You know I can’t interfere don’t you?” Reggie nodded and Ernestine continued in a clear but soft voice. “I’m not certain why or how you’re connected to Bennett House yet, but you are, so I’ll tell you what you need to know at this point in time.”
Reggie’s thick black eyelashes almost cloaked her eyes as she gave her a narrow look. She knew Ernestine would be cagey. “Quit with the inscrutable, out with it…”
Ernestine took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “Let’s start with what you know already.” Reggie rolled her eyes but the grand old lady ignored her impatience.
“The first Bennett built the house using money he’d made in the shipping business. Even I can’t tell you whether Vincent Bennett made his fortune through fair or foul means. There’s always been speculation about it. The one person who could tell us is long dead, almost forgotten.” Ernestine smiled and took Reggie’s hand. “Constance McCann. Yes, my dear, Chase’s ancestor, was one of the Guardians. She married Vincent Bennett against her family’s wishes. He was an outsider, and there’d always been rumors about his business dealings and his personal predilections. Even Constance herself could see that he wasn’t meant for her. You see, on her fourteenth birthday she’d inherited the gift of precognition. She could see more than the present, see beneath what appeared to be reality. Like me, she could interpret and sometimes influence nature’s plan.”
Reggie nodded. “By nature’s plan, you mean destiny.”
“You could call it that.”
“But if Constance had that kind of ability, why would she ignore it and marry Vincent? Surely, she could tell if he was a good man or not.”
“I’m sure on some level she knew exactly the kind of man he was. But you of all people should know, one’s heart doesn’t always listen to one’s head. Strangely compelling, Vincent Bennett had a reputation for getting what he wanted, and he wanted Constance from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. She was like a fever in his blood.” Ernestine shook her head sadly. “Much younger than Vincent, Constance was an innocent in many respects, despite her position as Guardian. She allowed herself to get caught up in Vincent’s urgency.”
“There’s no sign of a marriage ceremony or hand fasting in our record books. They didn’t marry here in New Crescent,” Reggie said.
“They eloped.” Ernestine nodded. “She shocked everyone by running off with him in the middle of the night. They married in Salem. There’s an official record of it there, so at least her family knew he’d indeed married her. The Old Families had no choice but to accept what she’d done. Afterward, no one talked of it. She became just Constance Bennett. She turned her back on her gift, rejecting her role as Guardian.”
Reggie watched as finches landed on the bench near Ernestine and wondered as nature itself was drawn to the old lady. She paused, enjoying the phenomenon for a second then remembered her mission. “Constance and Vincent had no children.”
“The McCann gift was lost to that part of the family. It turned up in a distant cousin who’d made her way to New Crescent unaware of her heritage. That’s a whole other story. But, as you know, people with unusual abilities are drawn to this place.”
“Like Gillian.”
The old lady nodded, and the sun reflected off her silver hair. “Yes, just like Gillian.”
“So Constance Bennett was from one of the Old Families. I noticed a Connie McCann in the records, but she just faded away. There were other gaps and anomalies around the same time so I blamed it on poor record keeping.”
Ernestine shook her head. “Constance Bennett pulled away from her family, the town, and everything that means so m
uch to a Guardian.”
“As I recall, there’s no record of her death, so the cause was never noted. Anything could have happened to her.” She looked at Ernestine hopefully.
“I’m sure you’ll find what you need to know dear. Vincent Bennett died of syphilis years after his wife’s death.” Effectively closing the subject, Ernestine grabbed her walking stick. “I’m glad you’re home. I missed you.”
Reggie knew she’d get nothing more from her. Secretly, she congratulated herself on anticipating this turn of events. Chase promised to check the archives while she pumped Ernestine for information. They were to meet back at Bennett house for lunch and share what information they’d gathered. Her self congratulations were short-lived, however, when she bid Ernestine good-bye. The old girl never missed a thing.
As Reggie turned to leave, Ernestine said, “Tell Chase he needs to open up and relax a little. Enjoy your lunch. He’s sticking with the peanut butter, but he’s got Belgian chocolates for you this time.”
Reggie called out to the old woman as she and Pru walked away, “You’re a witch, Ernestine Sinclair.” Still walking, she turned and smiled at the old woman. “An absolute witch…the very best kind.”
Ernestine’s laughter was carried on the breeze and out to sea.
With a little time to spare, Reggie swung by her office and signed the contract Pat Somers’s agent had sent over. The terms were generous, and Reggie was excited by the challenge ahead of her. Bennett House would finally fulfill the potential she’d always seen in it. She’d get to the bottom of the strange energy or impulses that echoed throughout the place. If she had to accept help from Chase to do it, then so be it. They were supposed to be friends, there was no reason he couldn’t be of some assistance. He was a permanent fixture in her life. She had to get used to dealing with him and her feelings for him. No time like the present.
Chase was there in the garden waiting for her. At first, he appeared unaware of her presence. Stretched out on the bench, with his long legs crossed at the ankles and his arms resting along the back, he had his face turned up to the sun. Reggie paused to admire the sight. It shocked her to realize that for once, she wasn’t hungry for food. She hungered for him. He was a month’s worth of comfort food to a starving woman. And just for a moment, Reggie feasted.
Spirit [New Crescent 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 3