Brush of Shade ((YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy) The Whisperer's Chronicles)

by Jan Harman

  I waited until she was up the stairs before doing as she suggested. “Hi,” I said with little enthusiasm.

  There was a slight pause while Trent glanced into the dining room and up the stairs, rocking on the balls of his feet. “I guess you’re still angry. Sometimes my dad can be overbearing. Usually just with me not company. I don’t know what got into him. You know parents.” He backed into the door jam with his lips still parted. “I shouldn’t have said that. What a jerk.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about, that,” I replied, my tone still unfriendly.

  “Uh.” His brows dipped. “I had this all worked out in my head. Maybe I should try coming in again.”

  “It depends on what else you’ve got to say.” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. The blank look on his face didn’t help his case. “Next time you and your girlfriend should get a room.”

  “Who Maggie? That’s what you’re mad about? I told you it didn’t mean anything. She just wanted to hang out.”

  “I saw her definition of hanging out. You didn’t seem to mind.”

  “Come on, don’t be like that. She invited herself along. What was I supposed to do, be rude? I’d rather have been with you, but my mom told me to give you a couple days to get used to everything. I’m sorry if you thought I was ignoring you.” He stepped all the way through the door and put his hands around my waist. “You’re the only girl I want to date. Forgive me.” He kissed the tip of my nose and gave me a hopeful smile. “Please?”

  He looked so upset that I decided to let it slide, this time. Life, as I’d discovered, was too short to hold a grudge. “Alright, I forgive you. But there better not be a next time.” I ignored the part about me being the only girl he wanted to date. After my last break up, I had trust issues. I needed. . . Shade’s face came to mind. Forget it. Talk about complicated. I took Trent’s hand and said, “Come on in; have some cookies.”

  “You’re not going to make me squirm all day or give me the silent treatment? Wow, Bradley forgot to pick up his girlfriend from work, and she broke up with him.” He kissed me on the lips this time. “I got you an awesome Christmas present. You’re going to love it.”

  I forced a smile onto my face. My cheery mood had deflated. Geez, I needed some happy moments to squish those bad ones off to the side. The tiny blinking tree in the corner of the room brought a real smile to my face the kind that shines deep in your eyes. “Actually, there is one thing you could do for me.”

  “Name it,” he mumbled, biting the foot off a snowman cookie that smelled of molasses and ginger.

  “Drive me over to the tree lot in town. I want to get some garland for the railings as a surprise for my aunt.”

  “Okay,” he said, sounding relieved. “My folks said I can have a New Year’s Eve party. Do you think your aunt will let you come? I’ve got a DJ lined up. The entire junior and senior classes are invited. Please say you’ll come. It won’t be the same without you.”

  Kicking off the new year at the Cassidy ranch sounded like an omen to me. I just wasn’t sure which kind. I stalled. “I have to clear it with my aunt. All that craziness on the slope shoved her into full parental mode. I’m supposed to report in constantly,” I said, sighing dramatically.

  He grabbed my hand, and in a husky voice said, “But you’ve got to come. I don’t want to start off the year with anyone else.”

  I couldn’t say no to that. Besides, I needed some good old fashioned fun. “Alright, I’ll convince her.”

  He leaned down and with one finger tipped my chin up. The kiss was tender and very sweet. The pad of his thumb stroked my cheek. “You’re one big bruise. I’m afraid to hold you. I wasn’t too rough was I?”

  “It was perfect. But I’ll tell my aunt that you’re afraid to hold me, that’ll be a great selling point for the party.” Great will power. One kiss, alright one excellent kiss and I’m ready to step into the lion’s den.

  Chapter 20

  In keeping with the season, an explosion of candy canes, shaped out of holiday colored wires, was sticking out of Hattie’s bun. Dressed in a forest green tunic she looked like an elf who’d sipped too much eggnog. “Got my receipt? Remember ask for Amber. She placed my special order.”

  I tugged on my fur trimmed gloves, and then patted a pocket on my navy blue peacoat. “Yes, ma’am,” I answered, suppressing a sigh.

  “Quit nagging. That’s the third time you’ve told her in the last twenty minutes,” Shade called from the door. “I don’t know why you’re insisting that Olivia goes to the hardware store. It’s freezing out. She doesn’t need to be out in that. I’m perfectly capable of getting everything on your list. I’ve been picking up your orders for months now. I’ve heard no complaints.”

  “I’m not nagging. And this is my store. I’ll send whoever I darn well please,” Hattie answered.

  “But I have to go regardless. I’m the driver,” Shade replied, allowing a touch of irritation to show in his voice.

  “Come on, Shade,” I said, squeezing past him. “Get while the going is good before she launches into another one of her, ‘I can see clear over the other side of the mountain’ tirades.”

  “You too, Olivia? Shade Grisland, you’re a bad influence,” Hattie scolded, shaking her pliers at Shade while he grinned through the glass window of the closed back door.

  “Thanks to you, she’s going to have a nasty chore waiting for me,” he grumbled.

  I smiled innocently up into his face. “Think of it as character building,”

  We drove with the radio on, neither of us inclined to speak now that we were alone. In my case, I couldn’t forget the ember that had burned for that brief sweet moment in time deep in the pit of my stomach. Soul Oath. Bound. If the oath accounted for what I’d felt, what would happen to that ember if given a chance to ignite? Would it burn through me until I had no choice other than to be bound unequivocally to Shade’s soul, like I was some mindless drone? Is that what he was afraid of, and why he was so careful to keep us solidly in the friend or worse brother/sister category? I squirmed in my seat, wishing there was a reason for him to hug me so I could see if it would happen again while on the other hand, wishing Hattie hadn’t been so insistent that I come.

  We turned off the residential street and onto the highway bordering the west side of town. Clusters of brightly painted stores with their flashing, tourist catching signs made up the core business district that one normally associated with civilization. Compared to the charm of Main Street—for which I was beginning to feel a surprising fondness—the sleeker lined structures appeared garish and out of place in front of nature’s snow covered canvas that kept the broader world from encroaching too closely.

  In Spring Valley’s defense, the business district didn’t amount to more than two gas stations one at either end of the street, a grocery store, an ice cream shop attached to a miniature golf course, the local bowling alley, a generic looking fast-food hamburger shop, a family diner, and a tiny roadside park complete with a cluster of picnic tables set beneath a pair of cottonwood trees alongside shiny new playground equipment. The last marker of civilization was our destination, the hardware store. It was part feed and grain, and part auto parts supplier while doubling as a nursery during the warmer months. Like usual, when we drove the four whole blocks I was looking for more.

  Shade turned the radio off. “You’re frowning. Is something the matter?”

  “Not really. I keep expecting to see multiplexes and jumbo supermarkets. Would it be so bad if we had a clothing store of some kind?”

  He smiled indulgently as he would for a little kid. “We have a clothes shop on Main Street.”

  “Filled with tourist T-shirts and hats. That’s not what I had in mind.”

  “We don’t have a need for your fancy, east coast boutiques with designer labels.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. I was just thinking it would be nice to have someplace to bum around, you know someplace with racks of clothes that you try on for the fun
of it,” I replied just as a passing truck splattered street slush across the windshield. I hunched down in my seat, fingers gripping my thighs while wipers slapped back and forth smearing the glass.

  “Hey,” Shade said, touching my cheek. “It’s just a little snow. So you want a mall.”

  Slowly my shoulders rolled back. Staring straight ahead, I yanked out my high pony tail and took my time fixing it until my fingers stopped trembling. “You say mall like it’s a plague on society.”

  “Now that you mention it, that’s exactly what it is with all those folks buzzing around from shop to shop, harangued mom’s dragging along whining, tired kids that can’t behave, and teenagers with nothing better to do with their time than to cause trouble. Yup, I see your point we need a mall.”

  “You’re a snob.”

  “Me?”

  “Seems like the shoe fits. What’s wrong with convenience? Salida isn’t exactly a quick outing and Grand Junction takes hours to get to when you’re in the mood for a serious shopping expedition.”

  “It’s an adventure. Oh, don’t roll your eyes. Now who’s the snob, miss I’ve traveled all over the world. Compared to Europe’s grand, historic cities Spring Valley is small and dull. I bet you shudder at the thought of growing old here.”

  “You’re offended because I don’t look at this town and think it’s perfect. Ever heard of progress? So I look at things differently, is that so bad? Hattie says my dad organized the local farms and ranches into co-ops to give them more buying power and put together the funding to improve the clinic. Didn’t he head the committee that supervised the new fitness center?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Exactly. He had vision. Not all change is bad.”

  “Not a mall,” Shade grimaced. “I’ll make you a deal. If you need to shop, I’ll take you anytime you want to Grand Junction. Just keep the malls out of Spring Valley. I like our slower pace. I like knowing everyone’s name and the history that goes with a small, close-knit community. I guess I like feeling connected.”

  “No malls then,” I agreed, grinning out the window.

  “I should make you walk for that.”

  The truck turned into the parking lot. “Too late we’re here.” I laughed.

  I waited for Shade to come around the truck to open my door. Yes, I was banged up and still favoring my leg, but we both knew his real reason. Fifty years from now I expected to still be uncomfortable with his show of respect for his warden. Even at a human pace his long legs quickly covered the distance. When I sucked in my lips the moment I settled my weight on my left leg, the sparkle went out in his eyes, reminding me of the other reason for his attention.

  With his stride matching mine, Shade angled us across the parking lot and past the ATM machine, Spring Valley’s concession to tourist and the outside world. Once we reached the store entrance, he took a firm grip of my arm until he’d scanned those patrons and employees within sight while on a mental level he was probably conversing with the owner. It was his job. Intellectually I knew this, but despite reassurances, I imagined lurking behind curious glances someone secretly plotting my demise. Unconsciously I pressed closer to Shade, rethinking this adventure.

  He whispered in my ear so only I would hear, “I believe Owen keeps a supply of work shirts, heavy jeans, and boots along the back wall in case you feel the urge to try on clothes.”

  I could’ve hugged him for helping me see honest, friendly folks and not monsters. To let him know I was alright, I said in a playful voice, “Thanks, maybe I’ll try on a stack or two. The later we are the longer Hattie’s special chore list gets.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but you’re going to have to hold off on sprucing up your city gal wardrobe. I’ve got somewhere to be after work. I can’t be late. That’s Amber behind the customer service counter. Go fetch, and be nice about it,” he said, giving me a gentle nudge. “If you need me, I’ll be in the back loading Hattie’s pipe order into the truck.”

  The air leaked out of my happy balloon. Where was he running off to? With considerably less energy, I wound my way past collapsible shovels, a shelf filled with anti-freeze, and a display of car fresheners that smelled like a crate of oranges had exploded.

  “Hi, Hattie sent me over,” I said, spreading Hattie’s crumpled receipt onto the counter. At the sound of my voice, Amber swiveled around in her chair. “Hey,” I said in surprise. “Aren’t we in the same American Government class? You sit over by the windows, right?”

  “You noticed me?” Amber gushed, her pale ivory cheeks turning a vivid shade of Christmas red matching her holiday sweatshirt of Rudolf and Santa decorating a tree. “Sorry, that was sort of lame. Normally I don’t sound like I’m trying to get a celebrity’s autograph.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sorry for not making it back to the yearbook meetings.”

  “I don’t blame you; the other girls were awful. I’ve tried to get up the nerve to tell you it’s not too late to submit photos or help out if you still want to, but . . . Trent’s always—”

  “Monopolizing my attention?”

  “Something like that,” she replied, ducking her head, so her white blonde hair fell in front of her baby blue eyes. “Some of the kids thought you’d think we were hicks, what with all your world traveling.”

  That line was getting old and apparently in my way. “Do I really strike everyone as a rich, self-important snob?”

  “No!” she exclaimed, looking up, her gaze not quite meeting my eyes. She bit her lower lip, grabbed a pile of flyers off the counter, and stuffed them into a bin on the counter behind her back. When she turned back around, she held a box labeled with Hattie’s name. “Some of us weren’t sure how to approach you. It’s not like we didn’t want to. It’s just that we didn’t want it to look like we only wanted to be your friend because of who you are.”

  “So nobody talked to me,” I said, missing JoAnna and our cultural explorations of D.C. that was actually code for hot guy watching. I really should call her. If I left out all the parts I couldn’t talk about, what else was there to say? Crafty, old Hattie sees quite well, I realized, struck by how lonely I’d been. “Trent’s sweet and all, but I’ve missed girl talk.”

  “Really? He is so hot and so into you.”

  “Are you with anyone?”

  “Dereck, he’s on the track team.” She lowered her voice. “He’s a plodder.”

  “A what?”

  “A normal, you know human.” Her mouth snapped shut and she concentrated on flattening the receipt with the side of her hand.

  “Up until I moved here my favorite people were human, or so I thought.” The wall over her shoulder was lined with green tubs filled with assorted sizes of screws and washers. I was at a loss how to use them in a sentence to keep the conversation going. I had visions of a repeat of the bonfire fiasco.

  “Whisperer hearing is better than human,” she said so low that I had to strain to hear.

  Like her, I checked out who was nearby and whispered, “And you’re afraid of being overheard?”

  “I’m not supposed to say plodder. It’s quite the insult. Dereck doesn’t mind. He’s one of the few kids from pure human families in the valley that know about us. He thinks it’s funny. You know a plodder on a track team from a high school with kids that could run circles around any track record.”

  “I got it. I’m fine with it if he is.”

  “Whew, I thought I’d insulted you.” She smiled and went back to ringing up Hattie’s order.

  An idea occurred to me. I fidgeted with the leather strap of my purse, twisting it into loops while weighing the prospect of rejection. I had to clear my throat before I could speak. “If I were to get us a ride into Salida or Grand Junction to hit the after holiday sales, would you like to come? You could ask a couple of your friends if you like,” I offered, envisioning Shade’s reaction to a mall outing with a group of giggling, boy-crazy, high school girls.

  “Really? I was going to ask Dereck, but he co
mplains about how long it takes me to try something on. He has the patience of a two-year-old. Becky might come; she sits in front of me in class. And Amanda, she sits next to me, she’ll come for sure. Let me know when. Who’s your driver, Trent? Would he take us in one of his sports cars?” she asked, tapping the keys on the register with more energy.

  “Shade Grisland offered,” I said absently, already making plans.

  “Shade! Oh my, God!”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not unless you’ve got something against a guy who is stop my heart gorgeous. And he’s a diamond level viber. They don’t come any finer than him. Over Thanksgiving break, I was teaching the newbies class, the pearls and jades, how to vibe ski. Even the bunny slope can be pretty scary when you’re still mastering conscious control on flat, dry land. I was considering pulling a couple of the younger pearls from the class when out of the blue, Shade vibed over. He gave up an entire afternoon of perfect vibe conditions to work alongside the kids.” She sighed clearly taken with all things Shade. Her voice dropped to a whisper and she crooked her finger signaling me to lean in closer. “Don’t tell anyone when Shade comes here every month to pick up Hattie’s order, I make Owen, my boss, promise to let me wait on him.”

  “So you’re friends?” I asked, trying to understand the secrecy.

  “I wish. But he’s all brusque no time for the high school girl. Whoops, you and I, we’re the same age,” she said, grinding to a halt, color rising into her cheeks again.

  “That’s different. We both work at Hattie’s shop, so he has to talk to me,” I replied, waving off the comment while leaving out the part about him being my personal bodyguard. Apparently not everything about my life was public record.

  “You work? I mean, not that you wouldn’t. It’s just that you don’t need to with you being the warden’s heir and all. I figured you had more important stuff to do.”

  “Well I—”

  “So what’s he like?” She asked, chewing on the end of a pen, Hattie’s order forgotten.