“That’s okay. Daddy will help me find it.” She wrapped her arms around J.J.’s waist. “So what are we going to do next?”
“Next, we bake cookies. Have you ever done that before?”
To her astonishment, River shook her head. Poor kid. Five years old and she’d never experienced the joy of making a batch of cookies with her own two hands.
“I don’t know how to make them,” she explained with heart-wrenching sincerity. “Just how to eat them.”
“I’ll bet you’re really good at that,” J.J. teased.
“The best.”
They went off in search of Raven, insisting he join in their next project. It didn’t take much pleading. Before long all three of them were swathed in aprons and elbow-deep in cookie dough. Flour soon covered the table, floor and chairs. And chocolate chips and brown sugar had found homes in some very intriguing spots around the kitchen. Not that it mattered. Seeing River laugh again, her good humor restored, made it all worthwhile.
The timer went off, announcing the completion of their first culinary attempt and J.J. crossed to the oven, removing an aluminum sheet full of lightly browned chocolate chip cookies. While she transferred them onto a strip of waxed paper, River and Raven continued working side by side to get the next batch ready.
“Come on. Quit goofing off,” he ordered in mock-annoyance. “We’re falling behind. And stop eating the dough. That’s supposed to be for the cookies.”
River’s expression turned devious. “It was an accident. My finger fell in the bowl all by itself.”
“Well, it can get out all by itself, too.”
“Okay,” she said, pulling her hand away from temptation. That lasted a whole five seconds. “Oh, no. Help, help! Now my pinkie fell in.”
Raven lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Well, you tell your pinkie to climb right back out of there or I’ll bake it up with the cookies. Yum. Chocolate chip pinkies. My favorite.”
“Okay, she’s out,” came the muffled reply.
J.J. grinned. Apparently Miss Pinkie had jumped from the cookie dough straight into a hungry little mouth. She waited for the inevitable follow-up. It wasn’t long in coming.
“Oh, no. Now my thumb fell in. And look! All the other fingers are sliding in, too!”
Raven shook a wooden spoon at his daughter. “You tell that thumb and all her friends to get out of the cookie dough or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else your little backside is going to meet up with Daddy’s big, bad hand.”
River giggled. “You’re teasing me.” She erupted from her chair and threw herself into his arms, patting his cheeks with sticky fingers. “You know you won’t spank me.”
“Maybe not,” he admitted, sighing in resignation over the cookie dough beard she’d given him. “But I will plant your backside on your bed if you don’t behave.”
“No, Daddy. That’s only when I’m really bad.” Her brows drew together. “Is falling in the cookie dough really bad?”
“No. Just sort of bad.” He wrinkled his brow in thought. “Well... Maybe not sort of, either. But it’s a lot silly.”
“Silly’s okay, right?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah. Silly’s just fine.”
She pressed a chocolate-coated kiss to his cheek, adding to his doughy beard. “I love you, Daddy.”
He hugged her, his eyes falling shut, his expression almost painful to witness. “I love you, too, pumpkin.”
JJ. blinked away tears, more moved than she could have imagined. Apparently Raven’s place on his daughter’s pedestal had been recovered. The knowledge brought a tremulous smile to her lips.
Their sixth day at the cabin arrived and then waned into afternoon. And with its passing came the knowledge that they only had one more day to spend as a family. Tomorrow would be their last.
“But at least we get to go out to dinner in a few hours.” J.J. attempted to console a devastated River.
That sparked a little interest. “Can we wear our matching dresses?”
“Absolutely. And we’ll fix our hair, too.”
“And put on makeup?”
It was bribery at its most blatant, but J.J. didn’t have the heart to refuse. “And wear makeup.” She held up her thumb and index finger pinched close together. “A little bit of makeup.” Somehow she didn’t think Raven could handle more than that.
“How will you fix my hair?”
“I thought we’d make braid crowns.”
“What’s a braid crown?”
J.J. bit down on her lip. Poor Maise. She’d missed out on so many special times with her daughter. So many joyous moments that little girls remembered all their lives—remembered and passed down to their own daughters.
“Why don’t we get started right now? That way I can show you what they are.”
River clasped her hands together in excitement. Perching on the edge of her bedroom chair, she held perfectly still while J.J. brushed out her hair. “Are you going to braid it? Daddy braids it a lot.”
“I sure am. But first we need ribbons. Let’s see...” She opened the bag of goodies she’d bought at the same time as the materials for the fans and pulled out a handful of gold ribbons. “I need to weave these in while I braid your hair.”
River’s brow wrinkled. “How did you learn this?”
Deftly JJ. began working the braids. It had been a long time since she’d attempted this particular hairstyle, but to her relief, it came back with amazing ease. “My mother used to make braid crowns for my sister, Jacq, and me.”
“Was your mommy a fairy, too?”
J.J.’s mouth trembled into a smile as sweet memories winged through her mind. “She was a fairy queen and she made all our lives magical.” Tying off the braids, she wrapped them around River’s head and pinned them in place. “Now look.”
River’s gasp of delight was all the reward J.J. could have wanted. “I look...” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I look beautiful.”
“Yes, you do. Wait until your daddy sees you.”
River insisted that J.J. fix her hair in a braid crown, too. “So we’ll match. Like a real mommy and her little girl.”
“Okay. But you have to help.” She couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on River’s brow. “That’s how it works with mommies and their little girls.”
It took time, but sheer grit and determination helped compensate for fumbling fingers and lopsided braids. The eventual crown wasn’t perfect, but JJ. wouldn’t have changed the final results for anything in the world.
And then came makeup. Again River held utterly still—chin raised and lips pursed. JJ. touched the alabaster cheeks with blush, the bowed lips with a hint of pink lipstick, and the upturned nose with a fine dusting of powder. Again, River ran to the mirror. She stared for a long time and J.J. couldn’t help thinking she was drinking in the experience, filing it away so she’d always remember.
Finally came their dresses—fairy-tale creations in a soft, shimmery gold satin with high waists, puffed sleeves and squared necklines. “Only one final touch,” J.J. announced. Reaching into her bag of goodies she pulled out two jewelry boxes. She handed one to River. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Look inside.”
Trembling with excitement, River pried open the velvet box. Inside she found a heart-shaped gold locket nestled in a bed of white satin. “Is this for me?” she whispered in disbelief.
“It’s my gift to you.” JJ. fought for composure. “You know I have to leave soon. But I thought you could have this to remember me by.” She showed River how to open it. “See? It has a lock of my hair. Anytime you miss me, all you have to do is—” To her utter horror, her voice broke.
River threw herself into J.J.’s arms. “I love you, Mommy. Please don’t leave.”
It was a fight to reply with the tears blocking her throat. “I have to.”
“Would you stay if you could?”
In a heartbeat. She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t.”
She hugged River close, refusing to lie. After all, fairies couldn’t lie. “You know I would.” She drew back, brushing away tears with shaking fingertips. “I didn’t show you what else I bought.”
She opened the other jewelry box to reveal another locket—a perfect match for River’s. “This way I can remember you, too.”
“Will you put my hair in yours?”
“I’d love to.”
“Do it now,” River urged.
It only took a few minutes to unwrap her braids and trim off a tiny snippet of hair. J.J. secured it in her locket and fastened the gold chain around her neck. Then she gathered up their fans. They practiced fluttering them, giggling at their own silliness before J.J. tied them to their wrists with the remaining gold ribbons.
“Are you ready? I’m sure it’s past time to go downstairs. Your poor daddy is probably wondering what happened to us.”
“I’ll tell him we were being girls. That’s what he always says when I take too long getting ready.”
J.J. nodded, fighting tears again. “We sure were being girls. And I bet he’ll love the result.” And then they joined hands and left the room.
Raven paused in the hallway, unable to do anything but stand and stare. J.J. and River were poised at the top of the staircase. And they took his breath away. In that brief moment he felt the irresistible lure of fantasy. This could be real, it whispered into his ear. You could have this if you just believe. And he wanted it to be real. Wanted it desperately.
“Look at us,” River called to him. “Don’t we look beautiful?” J.J. bent with a rustle of satin and whispered something into her ear and she nodded. “I mean... How do we look, Daddy?”
“You look beautiful. Stunning,” he assured her roughly. And heaven help him—“All grown up.”
They descended the steps, joining him in the hallway. “Is it time to go?” J.J. asked.
“Not quite. We’ve got a small problem.” He crossed to the front door and tugged it open, sweeping a hand toward the darkness outside. Snow fell in a thick white curtain.
River caught her breath in a gasp. “It’s snowing!” A careless gust sent a small whirlwind spinning in through the open doorway and she chased it, trying to capture the flakes in her hands. They caught in her braids instead, white pinpricks against a sable backdrop, before melting, leaving behind the sparkle of diamond droplets.
“The first snow of winter,” Raven confirmed. “You asked for special water, River. Here it is.”
“How beautiful,” J.J. whispered.
“What do I put it in? Quick, Daddy. I have to catch the snow.”
JJ. snapped her fingers. “I have a small bottle upstairs. It had a sample of shampoo in it. But it’s almost empty. We could clean it out and fill it with snow.”
“Can we do it now, before we go to dinner?” River pleaded.
“I’m afraid that’s the bad news,” Raven interrupted. “The roads are a mess. We’re going to have to stay home tonight.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t have a special dinner,” J.J. hastened to say.
He smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s already taken care of.”
As soon as he’d realized they weren’t going into town, he’d made alternate arrangements. The first order of business had been to move the kitchen table into the living room, right next to a roaring fire. During a brief foray outside, he’d collected cedar boughs, pinecones and berries and dumped them into a large wooden bowl. As a final touch, he’d stuck a couple of candles in the middle of the arrangement. As a centerpiece, it wasn’t perfect, but it would do. Next, he’d tossed a couple Cornish game hens into the oven with some carrots and baby red potatoes. If the odor wafting through the cabin was any indication, dinner was almost ready.
“What can we do to help?” J.J. asked, looking around.
He waved her toward the living room. “Just have a seat. I’ve got everything under control.”
“Let’s turn off all the lights and just use the candles,” River suggested.
Raven frowned. “Hang on. I’ll have to find some matches. I seem to have misplaced my lighter.” He shook his head. “First my cuff links and now this.”
The dinner turned out to be a huge success—warm and leisurely, interspersed with plenty of laughter. After they’d eaten, Raven moved the table back to the kitchen and spread a wool blanket in front of the fireplace. Then they all played cards by candlelight, the hours slipping by. Finally, exhausted, River curled up on one corner of the blanket, her braid crown tumbling over one eye. With a small yawn, she drifted off to sleep.
“I’ll take her up and be back in a minute,” Raven murmured.
Gently he lifted his daughter into his arms and carried her off. But he soon discovered J.J. didn’t wait for him downstairs. Instead he found her in his room. As he entered, she bent toward the hearth by his bed and set a burning match to the stack of wood he’d laid earlier. The fire caught, shedding the reflection of its glittering flame across the paleness of her skin. Satisfied, she sat back. Her skirt surrounded her in a circle of rippling satin and he couldn’t help thinking she looked like a fairy perched in the middle of a pool of gold.
She turned her head toward him. Her eyes were dark in the firelight, threaded with just a hint of amber. “Did you get River to bed?”
It was such a prosaic question, it made him smile. It also brought home the reminder that fantasy and reality rarely intersected—and the few times they did, there was invariably a collision.
“She’s sound asleep. I tucked Dolly in next to her in case she wakes up in the middle of the night.”
“Does she do that often?”
“No.” He waited a moment and when she didn’t say anything further, he asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No. Yes.” She laughed, the sound deep and husky. Emotional. Revealing. “I’m just sitting here, struggling to reach a decision.”
“Is it a decision I can help with?”
“Not really. It’s one I need to make for myself.”
He stepped closer. “But it involves me.” He didn’t bother asking. The answer was self-evident.
Her mouth trembled into a slow smile. “Yes. It involves you.”
With a tiny sigh of resignation—or perhaps inevitability—J. J. lifted her arms and unclasped the locket from around her neck. Ever so gently, she set it on the hearth. It flickered in the firelight, capturing the fiery dance within its metallic heart before reflecting it outward. He waited to see what she’d do next. She didn’t keep him in suspense for long.
She reached behind her, the precision of her movements unexpectedly elegant. The rasp of her zipper rent the heavy silence, followed by the whisper-soft swish of satin. Her dress slid from her shoulders and collapsed, baring her to the waist.
Raven fought to draw breath. “I assume you’ve reached your decision.”
“Oh, yes.”
It was such a simple response, but one that threatened to shatter him. She stood with infinite grace, rising from the golden pool of satin as if she were a glorious sea nymph emerging from sun-blissed waves. She wore very little—silk stockings, held in place with lace garters, a scrap of silk at the juncture of her thighs and Eve’s smile.
“And now it’s your turn to decide,” she said.
CHAPTER NINE
Justice had all her gifts but one—the prince’s contribution. But he’d disappeared. She’d searched all of Fairy for him. Everywhere, except the hidden lair of Nemesis.
Gathering her courage, she slipped through the forest until she stood just outside the entrance to the dragon’s cave. And there she found the prince, his sword poised, ready to pierce the heart of the mighty Nemesis.
“No,” the fairy cried. “Don’t kill him. For if he dies, our dreams die with him.”
Page 37, The Great Dragon Hunt
by Jack Rabbitt
RAVEN couldn’t take his eyes off JJ. Ever so gently he closed the door to h
is bedroom. “Gem?”
“PROCEED.”
“Alert me if River leaves her room tonight.”
“AFFIRMATIVE.”
JJ. tipped her head to one side. She’d combed out her braids, and her hair cascaded like spilled ink across one shoulder. It cupped the outer curve of her pale breast as if it were a lover’s hand. “Shall I assume you’ve reached your decision, Mr. Sierra?” She offered a brave smile, as though his response wasn’t of critical importance. But her eyes held a smoky darkness that reminded him of a carefully banked ember—an ember needing only a wisp of life-giving air to bring it back to full flame.
“Come here.”
She walked toward him, every step sheer seduction. And she didn’t stop until the coral tips of her breasts grazed his shirt. “Make certain,” she said. “Make very certain this is what you want.”
“I was certain the minute you walked into my life.” Ever so gently, he took her into his arms, enclosing her in warmth.
She lifted her face and with a small sigh, covered his mouth with hers. In that instant, realization dawned. Waves of understanding spread through him, growing ever stronger, ever more certain with each passing minute. JJ. offered something he’d never had before—never expected to have. She gave him the whole of her spirit. She gave him utter trust. And she gave him fulfillment.
He finally understood what his grandmother meant about a “gold spirit.” It wasn’t just J.J.’s goodness or the way she put others before herself. In fact, it wasn’t noble self-sacrifice he’d witnessed at all. She simply gave of herself—her love, her time, her attention. She took incompletion and completed it.
She closed circles.
How different from his former wife. Maise had constantly chased fulfillment outside their marriage. He’d never had a sense that she found it with him, despite the love they’d felt for each other. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn’t have been so bent on exploring every New Age craze that came along, or standing outside in a thunderstorm growing a deadly case of pneumonia. He’d never been enough for her. For the first time, Raven recognized that fact. Recognized, and accepted it, despite the sadness it wrought.
The Miracle Wife (Harlequin Romance) Page 13