by Marie Harte
“Oh that sounds like a—” Mrs Winkle began.
“Not you, Fiona,” Gran snapped, pointing her hand-carved Hornbeam cane at the other lady. “You sit here and wait for your grandson. It’s Tuesday, he’ll be by soon for a visit.”
“Oh! It’s Tuesday.” Mrs Winkle jumped up from the chair Gran had ordered her to sit in. “I better go put on my good hair.”
Eve pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing and watched as the older lady shuffled out of the common room and down the hall.
Gran took her arm and they walked out through the French doors and into the back garden of the retirement home. It wasn’t really a retirement home as much as it was a retirement community with assisted living and a nice one at that.
“Does she really have good hair?” Eve asked pointing to a bench by some late blooming flowers. It was a sunny fall day and sitting in the sun would do them both some good.
“Course not.” Gran tisked. “She’ll just put a bow in the one she has on.” Gran shook her head. “Daft cow. If I hadn’t known her for so long I probably would have whacked her with my cane by now.”
“You can’t do that Gran, that thing is really hard.” She pointed to the old white cane. It had been her great-grandmother’s and had come over with Gran from Scotland, apparently it was very old and been in their family for a very long time.
“Oh, stop your worrying. I’d never hit Fiona. She’s one of my best girls. Can keep any secret I tell her.” Gran sat down and patted the spot next to her. “Mind you, she has a bit of old-timers so that helps.”
Eve chuckled.
Gran looked at her, her green eyes clear and as sharp as ever. “Well?” she asked expectantly.
Eve rolled her eyes, reached into the bag she had brought and pulled out a thermos and two plastic mugs.
“Hurry up, I’ve been waiting for this for days.” The older woman rubbed her hands together. “That’s the only thing I don’t like about living here. No booze.”
Shaking her head Eve commented. “You’re like a junkie waiting for her next fix.”
“I’m not,” Gran gasped pretending to be shocked. “Now pass it here.”
Laughing, Eve handed her the mug and watched a youthful grin appear on Gran’s face. She inhaled the scent of fresh coffee and Irish cream and was about to take a sip when the smile fell from her face.
Eve stopped filling the second cup when Gran hissed, “Go away Philip. Can’t you see my granddaughter is here?” There was a pause, followed by Gran glaring over the bench. “Not while Eve is here, we’ll talk later. Now sod off.” Gran had a satisfied grin when she turned back to Eve.
If Eve hadn’t know what Gran’s gifts were she would have thought she had fallen out of the crazy tree—and it probably looked that way to others—but Eve had grown up with Gran snapping at medians and dead souls as far back as she could remember.
Eve continued pouring her coffee. “Who’s Philip?”
Gran waved her hand. “A long time ago, Philip was the farmer who owned this land.”
“What does he want?” Eve was trying to act casual about it for Gran’s sake but dead souls scared the shit out of her. She took a sip of her coffee hoping the Irish cream might help relax her.
“He wants to know if I can call to his wife. He seems to think that if I call to her she will come back to him.”
“But she’s dead!” Eve felt the need to point out the obvious, just to be on the safe side.
“Yup. Got scalped when Indians attacked their farm.”
“Oh!” Eve gasped, almost choking on her coffee. “That was long ago! Have you told him he must go to her?”
“Yes, but I guess I’ll have to tell him again.” Gran took another sip then sighed, “So, where is my wee lass today?”
They talked for over an hour about Noelle and school, and Eve’s patients. Eve dragged on about each subject intentionally stalling the inevitable. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself. Why couldn’t she just ask Gran what she needed to know? Why was Alex able to move things? Why was he able to leave his body? Why did he turn her on? Well maybe she didn’t need the answer to that question, but still she needed to talk to somebody about him. And she didn’t have much time. She had got him to agree to stay away while she was visiting with Gran, yet she knew he wasn’t far away because she could still feel the slightest vibration of his strength.
“Out with it doll, your babbling is driving me batty,” Gran demanded.
Eve sighed, she should have known Gran would notice. “I have been… There is a…” Eve took a deep breath. “A median came to my house, and is now staying with me.”
The older woman’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Staying with you?”
Eve raised her shoulders and with a guilty look, confessed, “Actually he’s been haunting me. Well that’s how he put it.”
“Haunting you?”
Eve nodded. “Until I merge him. Which I’m not sure I’ll be able to do.” Eve turned so her side was leaning against the back of the bench. Resting her elbow on the top of the bench she pressed her hand to her forehead. “He’s driving me crazy.”
Gran turned and mimicked the way she sat. Looking at her, Gran appeared to be in her late sixties, the cane and her frequent conversations with imaginary people helped to complete the look. The truth was, Gran was anything but frail, in fact for the oldest living person on the continent she looked amazing thanks to the Sinclair blessing…or curse…or whatever this thing was.
“Why can’t you merge him?” she asked, her green eyes sharp.
Eve rested her cheek into her hand. “He has three bullet holes in him—one is very close to his heart, one probably in his liver and the other in his shoulder.”
Gran remained quiet taking in the information.
“He can move things too. Opens and closes doors.” Her heart began to beat faster when she recalled Alex closing the fridge door. Even now goosebumps crawled their way up her arms.
“Doll.” Gran leant forward and touched her bent knee. “I know the idea frightens you but are you sure he isn’t dead?”
“Yes.”
“But you just said that he came to you, that he could move objects and that he has three bullet wounds one close to his heart. It sounds as though he’s dead.” Gran shook her head. “I told you seeing dead souls might happen sooner or later.”
“That’s just it, for a while I was so sure he was dead, then I touched him and—”
Gran sat up straight. “You touched him?”
“Yes,” Eve moaned covering her face. “I couldn’t help it, there’s just something about him.”
“What, doll?” Gran asked gently.
“I’m not sure.” She lied. She had wanted to feel, no that wasn’t right. She had wanted to know that he was real, that this man, who thought she was damn sexy was more than just a soul and why it was, that when she felt his heat seep into her hands, it felt as though her own soul sighed in relief?
“What did you feel?”
“Heat. He was warm. That’s when I knew he wasn’t dead.”
“Why did he come to you?”
Eve told Gran everything that Alex had said to her apart from a few conversations that were more sexual in nature. Gran did not need to know that she found Alex’s threat about jay walking a turn on.
“Well,” Gran began, casually peering over her shoulder. “Looks like you have a very, very old soul following you around.”
“Have you ever had this happen?”
“I’m sorry doll, I haven’t.” Once again, Gran shifted her eyes looking into the distance.
“What do you think I should do?”
Gran’s eyes were back on her. “I think you should merge him before he does something he might regret.”
Eve straightened. “What does that mean?”
“He has a great deal of violence in him, yet he has it under control. Right now it’s his frustration over your stubbornness that is controlling his actions.”
“Why are you talking about frustration? He never looks the least bit frustrated. It’s actually quite annoying.”
A deep chuckle from behind had Eve exhaling a heavy sigh. “It’s good to know that I at least annoy you.”
Eve raised her arm and pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “This is Alex,” she introduced. “This is my Gran.” Eve glared back over her shoulder at him. “Mrs Sinclair.”
Alex chuckled again. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am!” Gran said with a snort. “Dawn is just fine.”
Eve watched as Alex gave Gran a wink.
“Oh for heaven sakes,” Eve huffed and looked at her watch. “It’s time to pick up Noelle.” Standing, she began to pack up the plastic cups and thermos. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Leave that.” Gran grabbed the thermos. “I think I’ll sit here and finish it.”
Grinning, Eve leant down and kissed her cheek. As she grabbed her bag and began to walk away, Eve turned back wagging her finger. “Be nice to Mrs Winkle.”
Gran snorted in response, then called, “Give my wee girl a kiss.”
* * * *
Alex went to follow Eve but stopped short when the white cane flew up in front of his legs. It didn’t block his path but that was her intention, so he accommodated her.
Eve’s grandmother turned back to him. Her green eyes were sharp and, after about a minute of her studying him, she finally said, “If Eve says you can’t go into your body, you need to trust there is a good reason for it.”
Alex felt the rush of power that accompanied the woman’s words. She was asking him to do her bidding. He could feel the force of her silent command. The underlying hum was strong, much stronger than Eve’s, but different. When Eve used her talent, her words were a subtle caress. They slid across his skin like delicate silk. They calmed him, yet made his body burn. The strength surrounding Dawn’s words was bold and very much in evidence. He rebelled when she pushed him to follow her command.
“She’s a good girl, wouldn’t hurt a soul.” The older woman winked at him.
“You’re stronger than Eve.” He stared down as she took a sip of her coffee.
“That’s because I’ve been doing this longer.”
“How long?” Alex lifted his chin.
She looked up at him with a sly smile. “A very long time.”
Dawn was just as cryptic as her granddaughter. “Then will you tell me how long Eve has been able to do this?”
The woman went deep into thought, taking another sip of the steaming brew. “She began early. Earlier than her mother. Five or six, I think.”
“Shit.” Alex studied Eve as she walked away, the sway of her hips calling to him. She stopped briefly to talk to a tiny little woman with strange yellow hair, who seemed to be fussing over something. Eve patted her shoulder in an effort to calm her and took a small red object the woman handed her. A minute later the woman was smiling up at her, a red bow now firmly placed in her bizarre hair.
“Do you see?” Dawn turned back to face him. “She knows how to heal. You have noticed that haven’t you?”
“I’ve noticed.” He hated having something pointed out he had seen repeatedly over the last week. He had seen first-hand how she’d healed men drowning in battle scars and brought them back. He was amazed by it. He admired her for it, and was strangely proud of her.
“Then trust her to do what is right for you.” The pitch to her words was so strong that he almost willingly agreed. Almost.
Alex narrowed his eyes and gave her a crooked smile. “You’re strong.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Honey, you have no idea.” And gave him another wink.
He laughed out loud then said, “But I’m stronger.” And winked back. “I’ve agreed to let her have a look at my body, but nothing more. She will merge me back. She doesn’t have a choice.”
Dawn’s smile became serious. “Then you better be damn sure you can save this broad with the baby. I don’t want my Eve getting hurt over your mess.”
“All Eve has to do is merge me and then I’m gone from her life.”
“You’re leaving once she merges you? After the way you just looked at her?” She looked up at him in disbelief. “I doubt that.”
Chapter Eleven
“You do know where Memorial is don’t you?” Alex asked, sitting next to her.
She looked over at him once again. “How are you able to travel in the car?”
He gave her the same answer as when he had said he could feel her touch, “I don’t know.”
“Eve.” He pressed. “Do you know how to get to Memorial?”
“Of course,” she snapped back. “I used to work there.”
“Then why are we taking the long way?” She could feel his blue gaze on her. “I…I don’t like hospitals,” she sighed.
“I thought you were a nurse?”
“Ex- nurse.” She glanced quickly at him.
“Is there such a thing? Take the highway it’s faster.” He switched topics pointing to the on ramp, then swore when she ignored him and continued on her present course. “Isn’t a nurse always a nurse?” he pointed out.
He was right of course, a nurse didn’t just stop caring for the weak or injured, they simply shifted their focus. She lied to him anyway. “No…I don’t think so. When it’s time to move on, it’s time.”
“And you’ve moved on?” he asked slowly, “To merging souls and providing therapy to wounded soldiers?”
She gripped the steering wheel. Why did he have to point out the very thing she was trying to lie about? She ignored the second part of his statement but answered the first, “I was trying to move on until you had to share your story with me. Now I’m going back and not liking it in the least.”
“You said you have patients at Memorial? Don't you visit them to see how they are doing?”
“No,” she said too quickly. “They come to me. I told you, I don’t like hospitals.”
There was blissful silence for a minute or two. “What happened Eve?”
No! She couldn’t tell him. That would mean talking about it, and talking about it would lead her to think about it and she did not want to do that. So she answered him by shaking her head. Right from the start Eve knew Alex wasn’t used to being denied anything, and now wasn’t any different. But it had to be this way.
“Did I give you the impression I give up easily? Turn left up here,” he ordered again.
Ignoring his order for a second time Eve turned right at the intersection taking them further away from the hospital.
Trying to hold onto his patience was worse than getting shot. Why couldn’t she just answer his question? And why did she try to hide the fact that going to the hospital terrified her? She was such a contradiction, always willing to help but never allowing anyone to help her. He shared his thoughts.
“That’s not true.” Was she hurt by his allegation?
“Who helps you?”
“Gran. Gran helps me, whenever I need it.”
“But she’s the only one. And I bet you don’t ask her for much.”
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as a frown pulled at her delicate brows. Alex gazed over at her. He couldn’t stop looking at her today. She looked good, stylish with her white button shirt and jeans. Maybe it was the low heels and beige fall jacket that caught his interest? Or maybe it was because her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail which accented her hazel eyes and pretty face. Whatever the reason she looked damn good.
He took note of her stiff posture and sighed. “Eve, you can’t go in there like this. Someone will pick up on it.”
Focusing on the traffic in front of her, she simply nodded.
“Is it death that bothers you or the sight of blood?” he guessed. “Bad luck with a patient? Bad luck with a merge?”
Her eyes widened and her arms went stiff as she clutched the wheel. Alex narrowed in on her face, finally understanding.
He began slowly
, “A merge gone wrong?”
“You could say that,” she replied.
“What happened?” She remained silent, gripping the wheel until her hands turned white. “That bad huh.” Still no response. “Jesus Eve. Do I need to start slamming things again?”
“Fine,” she snapped, closing her eyes while stopped for a red light. “You are so stubborn.”
“Eve,” he demanded.
“All right! I was working in hospital a few years ago when a young teenage girl was brought into the ER with internal head and abdominal injuries. She had been in a car accident. After she was stabilised she was moved to surgery and then to ICU where, due to her head injuries, she was put into a medically induced coma.”
She swallowed hard but continued, “I was covering a friend’s shift when I first saw her. I was at the nurses’ station filling out a chart, when I turned to leave she was standing there staring at me. It scared the hell out of me.” Eve flipped on her signal and turned right.
“That was the girl Emily Spencer?”
“Yes!” she sounded surprised.
“You mentioned her before. Keep going,” he encouraged.
“She asked me if I could see her. When I nodded she started to cry. I wasn’t sure what to do and there were so many people around that day and I couldn’t stand there like an idiot so I continued on with my rounds. She cried harder and chased me into another room.”
They took another right. “Eve, we’re going around in circles.” If she heard him he couldn’t tell.
“Come to think of it, she was a bit dramatic.” They stopped at a red and she turned to him, a serious look on her face. “I hope Noelle doesn’t grow up to be like that.”
He realised then that her anxiety level was very high. Her nervous chatter and driving around aimlessly were clear signs. How could he have missed them? Because he had been concerned with himself, his needs and hadn’t bothered with Eve’s fear. Which, if he had been paying attention, had been present all along.
She stared at him waiting for an answer. He answered her with what he believed to be the truth. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, Noelle isn’t a dramatic kid.”
“You don’t think so?”