Spellbound Falls [5] For the Love of Magic

by Janet Chapman

  “Are you sure, Mom? She’s starting to get really sneaky.”

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that, because she’s going to have to be very sneaky to hold her own against her father and grandfather.” Rana slipped her purse onto her shoulder then took Ella again. “You want to come home with Grammy, little miss? Kitty will be there for you to torment.”

  “Go Grammy’s,” Ella chortled as she clapped her hands, whatever had caused her tears apparently forgotten. “Hug Kitty!”

  “Wait,” Olivia said when Rana headed for the door. “Don’t you want the toys?”

  “What little girl needs toys,” Rana said without bothering to stop, “when she has a powerful sea wolf to play with? We’ll be fine, so don’t rush through your day.”

  “Rana,” Maude said, following her into the parking lot.

  “What’s up?”

  “I’ve been trying to decide if you thought I wouldn’t notice your little weight gain, or if you haven’t noticed it,” the midwife said dryly, actually giving Rana her disarming smile. “Or if you’re simply refusing to acknowledge it,” she said, her smile disappearing when she realized it wasn’t being returned. She touched Rana’s arm. “Did you honestly believe you could hide this from me, considering I’ve been tending to your health since Carolina was born?” She darted a worried glance at Ella, then lowered her voice even more. “We need to discuss this, if not as healer to patient, then as friends.”

  “We will, but not until we absolutely have to.” Rana turned so Ella was no longer between them and lowered her voice. “My concern right now is that Titus not know.”

  “You think you can keep this from your husband?”

  “Your word of honor, Maude, that he won’t hear it from you. I will tell him when I am ready.”

  “But in the meantime,” Maude said, nodding agreement but not conceding, “you mustn’t shut me out.”

  “Grammy, I wish go see Kitty now,” Ella said, clasping Rana’s face to look her in the eyes. “I’m anxious to torment the orca.”

  Maude gasped in surprise. “She knows who Kitalanta is?” Her eyes narrowed. “And why is she suddenly talking like a much older child?”

  Rana gave Ella a bounce, answering Maude by addressing her granddaughter. “Because you’ve figured out that talking like a ten-year-old scares your mother, haven’t you, baby?”

  Her large green eyes solemn, Ella nodded. “It scares the bejeezus out of Mum.”

  Rana leaned her forehead against Ella’s with a sigh. “Being smart doesn’t give you license to be crass, Princess.”

  “Rana, you have to warn Olivia,” Maude whispered. “The woman needs to know her daughter will mature faster than other children.” She suddenly snorted. “Not that anyone told me what I was getting into when I adopted Nicholas.”

  “Well, Olivia’s not going to hear it from me,” Rana shot back, “because I refuse to be one of those meddling mothers-in-law who tell their children how to raise their children. It’s Maximilian’s place to tell Olivia.”

  “If I remember correctly,” Maude countered, “your mother and father weren’t so circumspect about how you dealt with their grandchildren.”

  That made Rana smile. “They never said another word after Maximilian sank the ship they were on when he conjured up a storm trying to hurry their journey to Atlantis. And if I remember correctly, Nicholas was his partner in crime.”

  “That boy scared the bejeezus out of Mathew and me.”

  “Mrs. Maude,” Ella said, a distinct Oceanus twinkle in her eyes. “Being crass is unbecoming.”

  “I give up,” Maude said with a laugh, heading toward the church—only to stop with her hand on the knob. “Rana,” she said, utterly serious. “We’ll talk soon?”

  “Soon,” Rana agreed with a nod. She set Ella down and grasped her hand. “Come on, little miss smarty-pants, let’s go see if your great-grampy Ezra has the ingredients for gingerbread cookies. And after you and I take a nice long nap, I have a cupboard you can open for me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Rana sat in the old wooden love seat above her beach, watching Kitty wrestle a large piece of driftwood out of the brisk surf, and thought about how not well the second week of her campaign to misdirect her husband’s attention had gone. She tugged her hat lower over her ears, pulled up her collar against the April breeze, and burrowed her hands into the pockets of her new jacket.

  She’d completely misjudged Titus’s reaction to her leaving, having expected him to become more stubborn and self-contained, or even resort to playing the victim of a wife who had obviously lost her mind in hopes of rallying family and friends to his side. But instead of openly sparring with her as she had hoped, Titus had dusted off his youthful charm and set out on a not-so-subtle campaign to win her back. Hence the realization that not only had she misjudged him, she had also underestimated her own ability to battle a man notoriously known for using any and all means at his disposal—be they fair or foul or friggin’ magical—to ensure he came away the victor.

  Rana slid her gaze to the sleek racing sloop bobbing on its mooring and blew out a sigh, knowing now that she should have recognized its appearance four days ago to be a change in tactics. No longer dropping in unannounced, Titus had come up with . . . other ways to keep himself foremost in her mind, such as the shiny new red SUV—with self-locking doors—she’d found parked in her driveway three mornings ago, and the utterly feminine mask she hadn’t purchased mysteriously appearing in the box of welding apparel she and Peg had driven all the way to Bangor to get. But it hadn’t been until this morning, when she’d walked downstairs and spotted Averill Latimer’s huge old Christmas cactus in full bloom that she’d sat down on the bottom step, buried her face in her hands, and burst into tears.

  The dirty-fighting rogue; even though he couldn’t stop himself from trying to impress her with grand gestures—such as a boat, a truck, and a hot pink welding mask—Titus had reverted to a tactic he’d employed during their courtship, when he’d discovered that whimsical little miracles were the surest route to her heart.

  Forget holding him at bay a few more months; how in Hades was she going to survive even a few more nights of not falling asleep in his big strong arms and waking up to his tender kisses every morning. Yes, the blackguard knew her well, and had begun calling her each evening to see how her metal-sculpting lesson had gone that day, telling her interesting resort gossip and funny grandchild anecdotes, and always ending their conversation by wishing her sweet dreams.

  Although he still hadn’t asked her out on a date, thank the gods.

  Nor had he refrained from mentioning her glowing beauty when he happened to accidently run into her in town—to which she always refrained from asking if the two more pounds she’d gained might have anything to do with that glow. She’d actually had to buy new bras and slacks when she’d been in Bangor—Peg politely not noticing the pants had elastic waists.

  “Permission to come ashore, Grandmother!”

  “Permission granted, Master Henry!” Rana shouted back, standing up with a laugh as her grandson positioned his kayak to ride a building swell onto the beach. She quickly sobered, however, when she realized the wave was actually Leviathan. But recalling an eerily similar scene some thirty years ago, Rana decided not to shout a warning, curious to see if Henry was indeed his father’s son.

  Kitalanta, however, wasn’t about to let the mischievous old whale ambush their young prince, and splashed into the surf with a threatening growl.

  Frowning at the wolf racing toward him, her grandson yelped a very adult curse when he suddenly shot forward, the impact lifting the nose of the kayak out of the water before it crashed into a second frothing wave created by Leviathan’s slapping tail.

  Rana couldn’t have been more proud when Henry burst into exhilarated laughter and used the wave to his advantage by surfing it to shore. He climbed out of the kayak as soon as it scraped bottom, speared the paddle onto the beach, then turned and stood
knee-deep in the frigid water with his hands on his hips facing the sea. “You try that again, you lumbering behemoth,” he shouted at the bump of gray floating next to the racing sloop, “and you best start sleeping with both eyes open!” He turned and gave Kitalanta a pat on the head when the wolf ran up and started nosing him. “How noble of you to warn me, Kit,” he said, shooting Rana an imperially arched brow before dragging the heavy kayak across the beach and dropping it above the high tide mark.

  “What, and ruin your chance to impress me?” Rana said, throwing her arms around him the moment he straightened. “So, to what do I owe this surprise visit?” She squeezed him tightly. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Can’t a kid paddle over to see his gram?” he said as he hugged her back. He stepped away, his smile similar to those she’d seen on Maximilian more times than she cared to recall. “Since you can’t seem to come up the mountain to see me.”

  Rana dismissed his not-so-subtle scolding by sliding her arm through his and starting toward the house. “You want some hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies?”

  “Not if the cherub helped bake them.” He redirected her back to the wooden love seat, sat her down, then dropped down beside her. “So, Gram, how about we climb in that fancy new truck of yours, you impress me by driving up the mountain, and the two of us have dinner at Aeolus’s Whisper?”

  Okay, maybe Olivia shouldn’t let Maximilian finish raising Henry, seeing how the boy was already too much like his father. “Or,” she drawled, “how about you say what you came here to say while I cook us dinner in my crooked hovel?”

  His deep green eyes narrowed suspiciously—his expression once again eerily familiar—before he looked out at Bottomless. “I’m here to ask you to come home and save Granddad from the women,” he said quietly, still staring at the water.

  “What women?”

  “Any number of single women in town who’ve heard you left him.” He looked over with a frown. “Ms. Maher in particular.”

  “Missy?” Rana said in surprise, even as she shook her head. “I’m not certain Missy likes . . .” She in turn narrowed her eyes at him. “If this is an attempt to get me to move back,” she went on when he tried to speak, “it’s a very lame one.” She nudged his shoulder. “You should have asked me to save you from the ladies.”

  That got her the scowl she was looking for. “It’s not a complete fabrication,” he said, his chin taking on a stubborn tilt as he dug his cell phone from his pocket. “I have proof.” He tapped the phone’s screen, then shielded it from the sun as he held it toward her. “See, this is the text Granddad sent me two days ago. It says,” he went on when she squinted at the screen, “‘come save me.’” He lowered the phone to his lap, giving another scowl when he caught her fighting a smile. “I found him in the barn trying to politely extricate himself from one of the resort’s female guests.”

  Rana could no longer contain her laughter. “Henry, Henry, Henry,” she said, shaking her head. “Your grandfather has been saving himself from unwanted female attention for several millennia.”

  “On my honor, Gram, he required my assistance. He was in the barn brushing Phantom because Nicholas is away, and the lady trapped him in the stall.” Henry gave her a sidelong glance—to see if she wasn’t at least a little outraged, Rana assumed. “The woman wanted him to take her riding on the fiord trail to see the spectacular views she’d heard about. But she claimed she was afraid to ride her own horse, and asked if she couldn’t ride with him. That’s when he hid behind Phantom and texted me.”

  “Oh, the poor man,” she murmured, brushing something off her knee. “That should teach him to be tall and handsome and rich. Wait,” she said, her amusement vanishing when she realized what Henry had said. “What do you mean Nicholas is away? Is he gone on a mission?”

  “Now, Gram, you know no one ever tells me anything because I’m just a kid.”

  “Then what have you heard eavesdropping?”

  And there was that imperial raised eyebrow again, accompanied by one side of his mouth lifting. “I may have accidently overheard Dad and Granddad and Nicholas discussing the new god trying to come here, and Nicholas muttering something about it better not be a goddess shortly before he left.”

  “But he didn’t take Phantom? What about Micah or Dante?”

  “Dante’s gone missing, too. But not hearing any sudden claps of thunder, I don’t believe they actually went anywhere.” He leaned closer. “I think they’re both still here, but have gone undercover.”

  Rana looked out at Bottomless, specifically toward the western shoreline, despite the colony being too far away to see.

  “They’re not in any danger, Gram. It’s a simple mission to find out what sort of god the colonists are trying to call forth.”

  “The mission last November was supposed to be simple,” she said, still staring out at the water. “Nicholas barely made it back, and then he was nearly as dead as Sampson.” She looked at her grandson and smiled sadly. “I am aware your father has begun letting you participate in some of his and your grandfather’s work, which means you know that they only involve Nicholas when a mission is anything but simple.”

  Henry stood up and pulled her up beside him, making Rana wonder if the boy hadn’t grown another inch in the last two weeks as she found herself looking him level in the eyes. “You’re going to have to drive me home,” he said, clasping her hand and starting up the lawn, “as I can no longer feel my feet.”

  “Is it my fault you got out of the kayak before you reached shore?” She pulled him to a halt and touched his young chest. “I’m not going home, Henry, at least not yet.” She gave him a reassuring pat. “But I promise I won’t stay away forever.”

  “Why stay away at all?” he quietly growled. “Why won’t you simply tell Granddad what’s wrong so he can fix it?”

  She gave him another pat, this one a bit firmer. “I do not need anyone fixing anything for me, especially not your grandfather. And you, young man, need to learn that women are not helpless and we don’t appreciate men—” Rana shut up when she realized the more she said the broader his grin got, and she dropped her head with a sigh. “You are so much like your father.”

  “Thank you.”

  She snapped her head up. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  He took hold of her hand and started up the lawn again. “Actually, it’s quite safe for you to come to Nova Mare and have dinner with me tonight. Granddad left for Atlantis this morning, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into him.”

  Rana pulled Henry to a stop again. “Did someone contact him? Is everything okay on the island? Is he sailing or did he leave in a hurry?”

  “You know, Gram,” he said with a chuckle, leading her off again, “I never realized how you always imagine the worst. There’s no emergency, and your old relic of a ship is still in its hidey-hole inside Whisper Mountain. Granddad said he was going home to conduct some island business and that he’d be back in a few days.” He shot her a wink. “And he asked me to personally keep an eye on you while he was gone.”

  “Very well,” Rana said, picking up their pace. “Prepare for me to impress the both of us, because this will be my first time driving a steep, winding mountain road. Don’t worry,” she drawled when she felt him take a misstep. “I’m sure Titus gave me a truck with plenty of air bags.”

  Henry came to a halt at the edge of the house. “Have you driven at all?”

  “In general or my new truck in particular?”

  “Gram.”

  “I drove it all the way to Bangor and back the other day. But I did switch places with Peg when we neared Bangor, because I didn’t want my first driving lesson involving stoplights to include that much traffic. Do you know that one stoplight near the mall has five lanes going in each direction? Oh, come on, Henry,” she said when she couldn’t budge him. “You just faced down a forty-ton whale. Surely you can ride up a mountain road with me.”

  “I was at the helm and I can
swim,” he shot back. “But I can’t fly.”

  “You’re immortal.”

  “But you are not.” He shook his head. “And now that I think about it, I don’t want you driving back down the mountain alone, especially in the dark.”

  Bless his young heart; Henry was a few months shy of his eleventh birthday, and he was already an overprotective male. “Then spend the night with me.”

  “I can’t. Duncan is taking Pete and Jacob and me brook fishing tomorrow, so I’m staying at the MacKeages tonight because we’re heading out at dawn. Ah, what’s that?” he asked, gesturing at the trees beside her driveway.

  “It’s a turtle,” she muttered, trying to lead him toward her truck.

  Only instead of cooperating, he gently shrugged free and walked over to the small clump of woods and crouched down.

  Rana sighed in defeat and followed. “It’s a leatherback.”

  “No,” he said as he touched the metal. “It isn’t even close.” He looked up with a frown. “This wasn’t made by the same artist who sculpted the whale out front, because that person obviously knows marine life.”

  “I’m the artist who made the turtle.”

  Henry’s jaw slackened and he turned away to look at the turtle again, but not quickly enough to hide the two flags of red on his cheeks. “It’s beautiful.”

  She crouched down beside him. “It’s the saddest-looking turtle I’ve ever seen, and making it was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever attempted. But Zachary Latimer, the young man who’s teaching me how to cut and hammer and weld steel, apparently has the patience of a saint. This was his grandfather’s house,” she continued, waving at her crooked hovel, “and Averill Latimer was a metalworking genius.” She stood up, pulling Henry with her. “I can drive you to the parking lot and you can probably catch one of the resort shuttles up the mountain.”