To say he tested every rung on the ladder was an understatement. The lone bulb at the bottom didn’t do much to show him exactly how deep he was going, and he was relieved when he felt the floor only seven or eight feet down.
Was Jade wondering where he was? If he called her later, when he called her later, would she pick up?
“Hey, Mason,” Henry said, tossing both suitcases into the hole at once.
“Ow. What?”
“Nice knowing ya.”
Chapter 22
S leep began to elude Jade again. So did common sense, as she found herself wandering through Mason’s room in the middle of the night, sniffing his scent on the pillow, the open bar of Luck Soap on the sink, the towel he’d used.
She’d grown used to sleeping through the night, waking up in Mason’s arms. She’d never stop missing that. She’d never stop missing him.
He’d lied to her. All along. What was true? What wasn’t? How would she ever know?
Obviously she needed a spell to get her life back on track. With a fourth-quarter moon, though, it was appropriate to cast an ending spell, not one for starting over.
She played with different phrases, all revolving around ending her feelings for Mason, ending her relationship with him, ending his ability to walk upright without dragging his knuckles.
She didn’t address issues of a new love or a child; no one could replace the connection she’d had with Mason, and the thought of growing old without children hurt too much.
Mason was convinced he’d gone absolutely, positively, friggin’ nuts. Staying in snowy, icy, frigid West Bluff. Hiking through a crack in the bluff to move in with a practical joker—that bit at the ladder was so not funny. Henry snored like a grizzly bear curled up deep inside its winter den. Every night, Mason lay on his back on a blow-up mattress, staring up at the dark, thinking overtime how to get it all: Jade, marriage, kids, the whole nine yards.
Was she able to sleep without him?
Oh, man, he had to come clean about the insomnia, too. Their whole relationship was a redo.
Henry snorted awake and said, “I can hear you thinking.”
“Think she’s cooled off yet?”
“You should buy her a trinket.”
“I don’t think Jade’s the trinket type.”
“Shows what you know about women.” Henry snored for a minute, then snorted again and said, “She collects snowmen. You know, statues, ornaments. Trinkets.”
So much at stake. Now that Mason was free to tell Jade he loved her, he had to be sure he got it right, so she’d believe in him and have no doubts. No way he was relying on Henry’s advice. Buy her a trinket, Mason scoffed. Advice from a crusty old bachelor, of course.
Still, he wasn’t sure where to begin to win over Jade’s heart, so he started with thumbing a ride into Hannibal the following morning for necessities, like a car.
Along the way, an idea started to take shape. Females had been trying to force commitment on him since before he knew what they were good for, and here he was on the opposite end, needing advice.
“How’s it going?” Anthony asked when Mason called.
“I’ve rented a car.”
“Staying for a while then. Thought you might. Made any progress?”
“Bought a heavier coat.” Fire-engine red and fire-engine yellow, it was designed for someone horrendously color-challenged. Also very “lofty,” according to the salesclerk. He didn’t mention that he was now wearing insulated overalls that came only in a camouflage pattern intended to fool deer and turkeys destined for the food chain. “You know how to make a snowman?”
Anthony chuckled. When the out-of-the-blue question wasn’t followed by a punch line, he sobered up and said, “You serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Geez, nothing to it. Start with a snowball and roll it around the yard until it’s really big. Then stack one on top of another, stick some rocks in the head for eyes, maybe put a hat on top. While you’re doing that, I’ll start filling out a medical claim. What’ll it be—frostbite or mental health benefits?”
“Both.”
Mason set to rolling a ball of snow around the front yard until it got bigger and bigger and started to look like, hm, a blob. His first attempt was pathetic. Frosty didn’t look like anything to sing about with his raggedy coat of dead leaves and gumballs. In fact, he required heavy grooming.
He drove through West Bluff again, a good way to warm up and take stock of the competition at the same time. Seemed snowmen generally were constructed in three tiers, but it wasn’t a hard-and-fast rule. Most were short. All were stout. Several were impaled with dead branches. He rather enjoyed that.
By afternoon, he was standing back, admiring his third snowman. Better; decent, even, but too generic and not nearly good enough to impress Jade. Henry had told him the story behind the collection she’d adored since she was five. Mason might not understand women as much as would be good for him, but he did understand that Jade was traditional and romantic, and he’d better figure out how to relate to that. He retreated inside via the tunnel to think while he thawed his insides with hot coffee.
He had five snowmen taking shape on Thursday when Jade stepped out onto her front porch. She was wearing her long cape, so it gave Mason hope that she’d stay and talk, though her arms were crossed over her chest tight enough to ward off anything he had to say.
“Most people do that in their own yards,” she said.
Mason patted a more-artistic snowman, one with sculptured shoulders and arms. “You weren’t supposed to see them yet.”
“Pretty damn hard to miss in my own front yard.”
Oh, yeah, still pissed.
“I started yesterday.” His boots crunched through the snow until he stopped at the bottom of the steps, cautious to keep his distance lest she shut down completely, because he so desperately wanted her to hear him out instead of storming into the house. “I want you to know that I haven’t told anyone your secret. I never will.”
No comment.
Okay, make conversation. “You look tired. Is your insomnia back?”
Jade’s brow puckered ever so slightly, warning him that maybe he could’ve worded that better, and damn, he wanted to, she deserved his best, she deserved the truth, so he tried again.
“I guess I should tell you, I don’t have trouble sleeping. Well, I do now, of course. Now I’m brokenhearted, and who can sleep like that? But I mean other than that.”
“It was a lie?”
“It was.”
“You have no idea how badly I want to do a truth spell on you.”
“I know I hurt you very, very deeply. You have every right to be angry.”
“Pfff. You think I need permission from you?”
“I will never lie to you again.”
Jade looked away, angry, not listening. She blinked back tears and paid more attention to a squirrel scampering in the oak tree overhead than on what he had to say.
“I mean it, Jade. Not so much as a half-truth. Not even by omission. Ask me anything. I’ll tell you.”
“You used me.”
“I don’t suppose I can change your mind about that. But I want you to know I love you.”
She didn’t take the bait. “Where’ve you been staying?”
“With Henry.”
“In my basement?”
Mason tried one of his trademark cute smiles and shrugs, then discarded those and went with pure honesty. “I think it’s better I stay close. That way I can be here when you’re ready to hear me out.”
He dug at the snow with the toe of his boot. He thought about asking to go inside where it was warm. He knew he had to just get it done.
“For the last year or two, Brenda just kept at me. Kept saying we should move our relationship to the next level, and the next level was marriage, and before I knew it, we had a church reserved.”
Jade sighed and glanced at her watch. He took the hint.
“I’m over thirty, and I�
��ve never asked a woman to marry me.”
She startled, like a doe in the road. “You’re not—”
“Jade, I love you.”
Her eyebrows arched as she called him on it. “And we both know your track record with the truth.”
He would not be dissuaded. “I never knew what falling in love was until I met you. I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you.”
There, she almost smiled.
“You’re delusional,” she said. She stormed into the house, closing the door with a resounding bang.
Mason grinned broadly, happier than a man had a right to be. After all, the love of his life was still talking to him.
Damn Mason Kincaid.
Jade had thought he’d gone back to Pensacola. She’d thought she’d never see him again. But when she’d stepped out onto the front porch and laid eyes on him, her stupid, traitorous heart had thumped in excitement before settling down to an uneven skipping beat that made her oh-so-aware of every word he said, every breath he took, every look of hope and sign of regret.
And then the jerk had proposed! Almost.
Mystic Manor had never been so lonely before. Not even after Doug had gone missing. As much as she’d loved her husband, she didn’t remember him being as much a part of her heart as Mason had become in three weeks. Maybe that said something about marrying too young, or maybe the feelings had waned in his long absence. It didn’t matter which. It only mattered that she’d risked her heart and had it battered and broken.
Jade worked through the night on an order of ritual inks for an occult shop in Denver. After that, she had a long list to keep her occupied. Changing clothes, grocery shopping, going by Annie’s because now that she had capital, she wanted input on enlarging her cabin and workshop in the woods. After that, she’d find other errands. Anything to keep busy. Tomorrow morning, she had clients flying in.
When she turned onto her street late that afternoon, traffic was backed up all the way down the bluff. The typically five-minute drive took twenty, and all the way up the hill, bumper to bumper, she murmured charms to assist victims of whatever terrible emergency was blocking the road, whether it be an accident or a fire.
At the top, she found the source of the problem. Mason’s five snowmen had tripled. You could tell he was from Florida and didn’t have a clue, as they all faced the front porch. They were pretty neat, though. Not just round balls stacked on each other, but sculpted with some thought put into making each one unique.
But still!
No wonder people were lined up, staring. And not just locals. Tourists came to West Bluff to see the eagles, why not make it a two-fer?
Mason was waiting for her by the garage. He opened her door, all smiles, even when she hit him with her most scathing frown.
“What about low profile is so hard for you to understand?”
“Relax. They’re not here to see you.”
“They’re staring at my house.”
“Trust me, if they’re talking about anyone, it’s me, not you.”
She grinned a little, and though she tried to cover it by getting out of the Jeep, Mason noticed anyway. He noticed too much. Now she knew why—a trained investigator.
“What?” he asked.
“I overheard something in the grocery store about an abominable snowman. I just figured it out.”
Without asking, he grabbed half a dozen bags of groceries and waited for her to lead the way.
“What? All of a sudden you want permission to enter my house?”
“Seems right, since Henry isn’t here to invite me in.”
Oh, he was so slick, getting that in. “It doesn’t bother you at all that I don’t want you here?”
“Will you marry me?”
The look she gave him should have indicated clearly that she thought he had two heads, but since he didn’t look the least put out by her opinion, she said, “No,” to make it perfectly clear.
“Then I can’t leave.”
“So. If I agree to marry you, you’ll leave?”
He grinned at her. “Now that’d be silly, wouldn’t it?”
“What in Sam Hill are you doing out in the front yard?” Henry asked. He’d made dinner: a paper plate of grilled cheese sandwiches and canned spaghetti.
“Making snowmen.” Mason was so hungry, he tucked into his food as if it were Jade’s herb-enhanced stew.
“They’re gonna melt, you know.”
Mason shivered. “When does it warm up around here?”
“Could be next month. Could be next week.”
“Guess I’d better hurry then.”
“What d’you have in mind, son?”
“You’ll see. Is there a resale shop in town?”
“Yeah, down on Baptism Road.”
“Let me guess. That’d run along the river.”
“If you don’t find what you’re looking for, there’s always Clarksville and Hannibal. Cripes, son, you eat like a growing boy. You want some more?”
“Thanks. You have an internet connection down here?”
“You see one?”
“Hell, I didn’t see a hidden entrance under your bed from the third cellar either, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.” He sat back while Henry dumped the pan of spaghetti onto his plate. “I haven’t had this stuff since I was a kid. It’s pretty good.”
“What do you want on the internet?”
“Honeymoon reservations. Think Jade’d like Aruba?” If she didn’t take to diving, he’d be content wherever she wanted to spend time. All he wanted was to be with her. “Do you know if she’s certified?”
Henry stopped abruptly, stared at Mason, then shook his head. “Speaking of certified…Son, she’s not gonna say yes. Especially with you spending all your free time outside in the snow, when you could be buying her something she’d treasure, like, oh, I don’t know, a diamond ring.”
“But that’s just the point, don’t you see? I’m doing something I hate in order to give her something she loves.”
“She’s right. You’re delusional.”
“Persistent.”
“Like I said.”
Mason had never worked so hard to win a woman. He’d certainly never envisioned working at getting one to accept his proposal, certain that the rest of his life hinged on the outcome.
Without Jade, he’d be…nothing. Without purpose. Wandering lost and alone. God, it sounded so lame. He didn’t dare say any of that out loud. The sad part, though, is that it was true. Now that he’d fallen in love, truly in love, second-best would never do. If Jade didn’t want him, if she couldn’t love him back—
No, he couldn’t think that way. He’d pull out all the stops. He’d give it his best shot.
Chapter 23
A nnie jumped into the passenger seat of Mason’s car. “Drive. I don’t want Jade to see us together.”
Sitting in the driveway, Mason looked at her quizzically and started the engine.
“You’re not giving up, are you?” If anyone asked her opinion, Jade and Mason were meant to be together, but it was Saturday already, and Jade wasn’t giving in.
“If you’re here to give me advice,” he drawled, “I hope it’s better than Henry’s.”
As they eased toward the street, Annie gazed at the growing army of snowmen gathering under the towering oak trees, and said, “I’m really good at giving advice. Maybe if I knew what you were up to.”
Everyone in West Bluff and all of the tourists wondered what he was up to. You couldn’t walk into a store, café, or gas station without getting drawn into speculation.
“If you spray snowmen with a hose, do they get all shiny like icicles?”
Annie laughed. “I have no idea.”
“What’s so funny?”
“There’s a pool going on you. When you’ll turn hypothermic.”
“What’s the deciding factor? When I walk off the bluff?”
“That’s one of the criteria. Turn left here. I’ll be able to hike back
through the woods.” Annie settled back against the door. “It’s a shame they assigned you guys to watch Jade, when, of the three of us, she has the most to lose.”
“Her low profile, and all?”
“It’s more than that. I mean, come on, the city’s run by the same people who run the churches, and West Bluff has ordinances against people like us conducting business within the city limits. One breath of her spellwork gets out, and Jade’s in for a fight.”
“Good grief, Annie, there must be dozens of people around here who know she’s a witch.”
“Yes, and they haven’t said a word,” she said pointedly.
“Neither have I. And I won’t. That’s a promise. Anthony and I didn’t share any of that with the insurance company or the other teams.”
Annie was silent for a moment. “Other teams?”
Mason grinned. “Didn’t want you to feel left out.”
“Ahh, the black van.” She’d seen it a few times. Mostly she’d noticed because she’d been driving her old wreck and thought how nice it would be to have the van for deliveries.
“So who’s betting in this pool? Noah and Buzz?”
“Everyone who ever talked to you or saw you since you came to town. Pot’s up to eight hundred dollars.”
“Really? You betting?”
“Sunday, 11:00 P.M.”
“Now see, that’s no good. I’m in bed every night long before then.”
Annie shrugged. “It’s a witch thing. Fourth-quarter moon. Hard aspects to Mars and Pluto—that could be accidents and death. Speaking of witch things, I didn’t just jump in your car to see if you were still lucid. We all like you, Mason.”
His brow rose in silent question.
“Well, you’re right, not everybody. Someday you can tell me why Miss Lisabet has it in for you. She’s the librarian. But I mean those of us who got to know you. Weezy and Noah and Buzz. We all like you, and we think you’re good for Jade. So I’m here to offer to do a spell for you.”
“No!”
“What?—oh, quit looking as if you’d rather hit a tree. It’s a good offer. My candle spells always work.”
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