He’d arrived in Pittsburgh yesterday morning, slept all day at a hotel near the airport, then drove an hour southeast this morning to Mystic Springs, where he’d checked in at the Courtyard Marriott. He’d followed Cate from her home right back to Mystic Springs. Hell, if he’d known she’d head this way, he would have stayed put instead of wasting the half hour driving to her remote house and back.
He needed to talk to her. Convince her to divorce her reprobate husband before he decided to come after her. It was only a matter of time. The blasted man still loved his wife. He’d come for her eventually.
God, Michael hated the chase. Women, as a rule, came to him. He did not pursue them across continents and into mountainous pastoral locations that made him sneeze and wheeze. But Cate was different. Special. Worth millions. Millions that would soon be at his disposal. She’d be his to manipulate. To possess. To fuck. And he’d steal her away from the always smug Grayson Cooper. He’d almost had her four months ago. It should have been as easy as taking candy from a child.
Today, he’d take what he wanted.
But first he had to find her again.
One moment she’d been crossing the street, the next, he’d lost her. He’d looked down the street for traffic before crossing Main, and when he’d looked up, she’d vanished. Troublesome woman. He thought she’d disappeared down the alleyway between The Brew Pub and The Tea Cozy, but when he’d checked, the alley was empty. He’d looked inside the darkened windows of both the pub and the tea shop and tried the doors, but both had been closed, locked up tight.
So much for keeping tabs on her. He’d go back to her house and wait for her there. Besides, he had a gift to leave her anyway, to let her know he’d arrived in town. The token would make her putty in his hands. Literally.
#
Sleigh bells jangled over the door as Cate entered the tea shop. Matt Nathanson’s Modern Love played softly from the overhead sound system. The walls were painted a chocolate brown, the wood trim a creamy white. Tabletop displays of stacked teacups, travel mugs, and packaged shortbread cookies, and the wide array of colorful tins nestled on mahogany shelves lent the shop a welcoming atmosphere.
The sweet scent of exotic teas surrounded Cate and a warm, comforting magic tingled along her skin, the touch like a mother’s gentle hug. She paused to consider the ramifications. Over the past several months, she’d not encountered one other person here in Southwestern Pennsylvania with obvious magickal abilities, other than her live-in midwife, Hattie. And now, within minutes, she’d experienced two distinctly different pulses of magickal energy.
Cate browsed the collection near the big plate-glass windows, watching for someone to step from the shadows or nearby alleyways looking for her. No one followed or passed by. Whoever it was, they wouldn’t find her now. The magic she’d employed would hide her until they moved on. A magickal curtain shielded the tea shop from the corner of the bar and grille, where the antique spectacles still cast their magic. Anyone looking in would see an empty shop. Illusion spells were some of her favorite.
She shrugged off her uneasiness and caressed her belly. Yes, rubbing her tummy was a bad habit, but it seemed to soothe her and the fluttering baby growing inside. Her baby bump had just begun to show. And the morning sickness phase seemed to have disappeared. Finally. Thank God.
“How far along are you?” A pretty petite blonde wearing hip-hugging black jeans, three-inch purple suede peep pumps, and a white gauzy peasant blouse glanced at her and smiled as she continued to stack tea tins on the shelves to Cate’s left.
The woman looked like a sun-kissed pixie, even at the beginning of June in the cooler mountain climate of Pennsylvania. She was all tanned skin, warm brown eyes, golden blond hair cut in a shoulder-length bob, and curves that accentuated her hourglass figure. Cute and friendly summed up Cate’s first impression of the other woman.
“Four months,” Cate answered. “I’ve just begun to show and my jeans are starting to get tight. I’ll need to buy maternity clothes soon. How could you tell?”
“I recognize the comfort rub. I did the same thing with each of my pregnancies.”
“Each? You don’t look old enough to be pregnant once.”
The woman laughed, the sound robust, jovial. “Thank you. I’ll take that as a huge compliment. I have three girls. Now ages five, seven, and nine.”
“Wow. You can’t be old enough for three.”
“I started young. And my husband is in the military--Captain America off saving the world, one big bad terrorist at a time. So we make good use of the time he’s home. Procreated like rabbits there for several years.” She brushed her hands down her black jeans and offered Cate her hand. “I’m April Easton. Nice to meet you.”
“Cate Cooper. Pleased to meet you.”
“Your first baby?”
Cate blushed. “Yes.” And probably her last. “How do you do it with three girls? And you work. I can’t imagine. I’m tired all the time.”
“I own The Tea Cozy. I set my own hours and since all the girls are in school from seven-thirty to three now, I have a good chunk of the day to pursue my own interests, which wasn’t always the case.” April laughed again and squeezed Cate’s arm. “It gets better, then it gets much much worse. Hold on for the ride.”
“Great.” Cate glanced out the window again. Nothing unusual.
“Someone waiting for you?”
“Ah, no. Looks like it might rain. I want to get home before it pours.”
“Where’s home? Do you live in Mystic Springs?”
“No. Laughlintown.” Cate didn’t bother to give specifics.
“I live in Ligonier. That’s only five miles or so from you. We’re practically, neighbors. Why don’t you join me for a cup of tea? Lunch is two hours away.”
“All right.”
“Pick your poison.” April gestured to the wide variety of jarred loose tea leaves displayed on the burgundy granite counter top.
“White Pomegranate is my usual favorite. But I’m intrigued by Dragonwell.”
“Excellent choice.” April grabbed the jar and used a silver scoop to transfer loose tea into a ceramic pot, then filled it with boiling water from the spout of a stainless steel dispenser. She popped a lid onto the pot to let it steep. She swirled the pot three times counterclockwise. Then sat it down. “The Long Jing Dragonwell from Zheijiang Province is one of our best-selling teas. A soothing, yet refreshing blend with nutty high notes and sweet undertones.” April giggled. “You’ll love it. Cures all that ails you. A spa-day in a cup.”
Cate laughed in response. “What a selling point.” The muscles in her face relaxed into a natural smile for the first time in weeks. She liked April.
“Why don’t you grab a table and I’ll bring the refreshments.”
Cate picked a spot near enough the window that she could watch outside. She sat in the chair facing the door.
April slid a tray onto an adjoining table. She unloaded the tea pot, a plate of mini-scones with clotted cream and lemon curd, two fine china cups and saucers, silverware and two matching plates. “Here we go. Fresh scones and a cup of the best tea in Southwestern PA. What more can a girl ask for?”
“Smells heavenly.” Cate poured her tea, adding a spoonful of sugar, then sipped the hot brew. “Mmmm. God, that tastes so good. You’re right. Amazing. I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“It gets better with each sip.” April winked at her.
Cate blew on her hot brew then took another drink. She looked up, over April’s shoulder, through the plate glass window and flinched. Her hand trembled and her tea cup clattered in the saucer.
Michael?
She stilled.
Then, the man was gone. He’d peered in the window, tried the door, then walked toward the bar and grille. It couldn’t be. It had to be his American doppelganger. Michael lived in London. She hadn’t heard from him since she’d left England. Word from her stateside lawyers was that the International Bar investigation had wrappe
d up and an indictment would come any day now. Someone was going to jail. Cate feared it was Grayson. Her heart squeezed painfully.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you okay?” April glanced over her shoulder out the window.
“I’m fine.” Cate sipped her tea and lowered her eyes.
“You don’t look fine. You look scared.”
“No. I just thought I saw someone I know from England.”
“You’re from England?”
“No. I grew up here, originally. I lived there the past few years, after I married. I moved back a few months ago.” Cate worried the lacy paper doily on her saucer by shredding the edge closest to her.
“How does your husband like this area?”
April’s question punched Cate in the solar plexus, stealing her breath. She missed Grayson. He would love her house, and, as a born loner, he’d love the rugged rolling landscape, the seclusion. The more remote the area, the better, as far as he was concerned. Now she knew why. Beware. Dragons.
“My husband, Grayson, and I are separated. He’s still in England.”
“I’m sorry. That must make the pregnancy more difficult.” April squeezed her hand in sympathy.
Cate lifted a shoulder. “It’s not been bad so far.” She was lying. Oh, how smooth she’d gotten at glossing over the truth.
“Liar.” April squeezed Cate’s hand, then picked up her own cup and cradled it in two hands.
Cate tried to shrug off the uneasiness that had moved in to her shoulders at the sight of the man on the street who looked so much like her old friend. She did feel a hint of regret for not calling him. She’d sent him a quick note of apology before leaving England to say she’d be traveling to America to attend to a family emergency and didn’t know when she’d be back. The last part was true at least. The emergency? She had to get away from her only remaining family--Grayson--before he ate her. Michael didn’t need to know the particulars.
“Any chance of a reconciliation before the baby arrives?”
Cate drained her cup. “Not much, I’m afraid. I’d need a miracle.”
“I can’t produce a miracle.” April tapped her pale pink painted fingernails on the table and considered her, then looked into Cate’s cup. “However, I can tell you if a miracle is on the way.”
“How?” Curiosity sparked inside Cate. So she hadn’t imagined the energy when she’d stepped through the door. She’d wondered if the tea shop, or rather its owner, was magickal, but couldn’t guess what form her magic might take.
Cate didn’t sense shifter. No dragon mage, were-creature, or vamp. Thank God. Cate seemed to be a magnet for shifters. You had only to look as far as Grayson and Cate’s indefatigable attraction to him to see how she drew the deadliest shifters. She was too tired to deal with another one. April’s energy was different. Fresh.
Something she hadn’t encountered before.
Elf? Diviner? Intuitive?
She really couldn’t guess by looking at April. Magick was funny that way. Sometimes, you couldn’t tell what lurked below the surface until the magickal decided to reveal the gift. Yet Cate always picked up on magick. Maybe not the specifics, but the existence of it nearby.
She’d detected magick around Grayson for years, but had assumed he’d never been taught to acknowledge the magickal or supernatural realm until he’d gone and done the unthinkable and shifted into a dragon.
“Lift your cup in your left hand. Swirl the contents. Three times, clockwise. Invert the cup to drain the liquid onto your doily. Then hand me your cup.”
“You’re an oracle? You read tea leaves.”
April rested her chin onto her upturned palm and smiled. “Yes. Tea leaves. Auras. Chakras. Zodiac. Tarot. You name it. If it can be interpreted, I can read it. Are you game?”
“I’m not sure.” Cate didn’t really want to know her future or have a virtual stranger poking about the ruins of her life. Past. Present. Or future. Her heart ached enough, battered by her past and bereft by a future she didn’t want to imagine without her husband.
Cate took a deep breath. What did she have to lose? She’d already lost almost everything of importance in her life. She caressed her baby bump. No. Not everything. She still had the precious life that grew inside of her. Flesh of her flesh. Blood of her blood. She’d make it through, carve out a new life for herself and her child.
“You’ve got nothing to lose. If the message doesn’t resonate with you, then chalk it up to my lack of talent. You can tell everyone I’m a lousy seer.”
The woman’s uncanny ability to read her thoughts made Cate wonder if April couldn’t also read minds. She shook her head and laughed at the other woman’s self-deprecating humor. Her openness appealed to Cate. She’d been hiding for too long. Time to seize the moment. “I’m game. Let’s do this.”
“Good for you. I’ll grab two more cups. I read leaves a little differently from others.” She stood and grabbed two more teacups from behind the counter. “I use multiple cups, it gives me more shapes to interpret and therefore a broader picture of what’s going on.”
“Well, I’ve never had my leaves read, so I wouldn’t know.”
April slipped back in her across from Cate and poured tea into the two new cups, filling them about half full. “Go ahead and drain the liquid from both of those cups into my empty cup. Remember left hand, swirl three times, clockwise.”
Cate drained the two cups. Drew in a deep breath.
“Focus on your destiny,” April said. “Let’s see if that miracle you need is waiting around the corner.”
“Okay.” Cate picked up each cup and carried out the ritual as April had instructed. “Give it your best shot, Golden Girl.”
April’s eyebrow disappeared into her wispy bangs. “Golden Girl? Those three older women from that eighties TV show?”
“Nooo. Golden Girl--Captain America’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, got it. A nickname I can definitely get behind, given my love of Captain America’s form-fitting tights. Yum.” She chuckled, accepting the cups Cate handed her and lined them up on the table in front of her. April tilted a cup first one way, then the other as she examined the contents of first one, then the next, and finally the last. She studied the tea leaves with a seriousness and focus Cate admired.
“Hmmm. Not far in the distance, you’ll have your baby. A circle with a dot. And I’d say that six months qualifies as ‘not far distant.’ There’s also a heart in cup number two, which represents a lover and a G. So I’d assume that Grayson is part of your not-distant future. I can’t say exactly when. I’m sorry.”
Cate tried to remain calm. Hope would not spring eternal. She wouldn’t allow it. Stomping the perpetual pest, she kept her breathing even and her face a mask of non-response. No highs, no lows. Steady. Even. It’s the only way she knew how to survive.
“Your present shows disappointments. Suffering and sacrifice. And a false friend.” April glanced at her, a troubled look on her face.
Cate grunted. That sounded right. She’d been betrayed by her husband. What more duplicity could you ask for? Now there’d be more? “Great. It never ends. Just plaster a D for Dupe on my forehead. Apparently, my naiveté is limitless.”
“No. Trusting someone isn’t a flaw, Cate. The flaw is with those who use others for their own purposes and intentionally deceive them.” April paused, as if making a decision. “The tea leaves near the handle, which represent those events closer to actual fulfillment, are the most worrisome to me, though.”
“Just spit it out, Golden Girl. Don’t worry about my feelings. You’re Captain America’s sidekick. Read on.”
“You’re going to be visited by an unexpected guest. There will be intrigue and an accident. In the end I see happiness, but it comes at a great cost.” April paused and blew out a heavy breath. “My advice? Be careful. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
“Damn. You read all of that in the little specks at the bottom of those cups? Hope for the distant future, maybe. M
y present sucks, which I could have told you, and my near future doesn’t look rosy.”
“No. But it gets better. You’ve got a bit of hard work ahead of you, my friend. I’m sorry. But on the bright side, your miracle is on the horizon if you can make it through the next few days. So hang on. If you find your way through, you’ll be fine.”
Cate stood and hitched the strap of her purse onto her shoulder. “Thanks. And with those words of wisdom from my Golden Girl oracle, I think I need to head home before the storm blows in and washes out the road to my house. Need to thwart that accident hovering in my near future for another day.”
April stood and hugged her. Holding her at arm’s length, she said, “Don’t be a stranger. Okay?” She plucked a card and a pen from the counter and wrote something on the back. “If you need anything, even to chat, just call me. I’m here most days. Monday through Friday eight to two and on weekends the girls come with me to help out. They love it. So call me.”
“Count on it. I never thought I’d ever feel this alone.” Cate slipped the card in her pocket. She would call April. She liked the way the other woman didn’t hedge the truth, even when it was hard. An excellent quality in someone, especially a friend.
Cate poked her head out the door and looked up and down the street before she stepped onto the sidewalk. She’d been inside The Tea Cozy for an hour.
She lifted her hand, palm flat as if pushing against an invisible wall and uttered the guttural words embued with power. Magic stop.
The curtain of energy evaporated. She swiped the spectacles from the copper-colored table top--where they appeared a moment after her words ended the spell--and clipped them onto the chatelaine. The man on the street had looked too much like her old friend for her not to guess that he might be the visitor April saw in the tea leaves. Not in the mood to see Michael, she hoped she was wrong. The only man she wanted hadn’t come for her yet. But she’d told him not to come. She caressed the tattoo on her neck, finding comfort in the touch, much as she did with the tummy rub.
To Have & to Hold Page 5