She frowned. “That’s not what I meant.” Pausing, she drew a hand across her forehead. “First, you find Oscar Nelson dead—”
“Abby,” I interrupted her with a nudge. “It’s not the first time I’ve found a body. I seem to have a talent for it.”
“Then your father’s hurt,” she continued, ignoring me. “I’d hoped there wouldn’t be trouble.”
I needed to get her mind on something else. “Tell me about your dad,” I said abruptly.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why do you want to know about Daddy?”
I shrugged. “You never say much about him…what was he like?”
“He was a wonderful man,” she said wistfully. “He and Mother were so in love.” Her fingers picked absentmindedly at the quilt. “Mother’s heart never mended after she lost him.”
“Do you have any photographs of him? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”
She folded her hands and sighed. “A few. We didn’t have much money back then to have our pictures taken, but there is one of him in his uniform.” Her eyes grew misty. “I’ve never thought much about photos. All I have to do is look at your mother and I see him.”
“Really?” I felt a weight lift from my heart. “Mom looks like your dad?”
“The spitting image…down to the strawberry mole she has on her shoulder. Daddy had one just like it.”
“Why didn’t anyone ever mention this?”
“I don’t know…is it important to you?”
“Ah, well…” I stumbled around for an answer. I didn’t know if Abby knew what had happened to her mother, and if she didn’t, I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell her. I didn’t want to tell her that for an instant I’d questioned her paternity. There…I admitted to myself what I’d feared in the clearing, and I felt lighter for it. Especially since I knew my fears had been unfounded.
“It’s just…well…it’s nice to know that part of him is still here.”
“Exactly,” she said with a broad smile. “I think it every time I look at your mother.” Her smile faded. “So much would’ve been different if he hadn’t have died in the war,” she said sadly as she laid her head back on the pillow. “I’m sorry, dear, but suddenly I’m really tired.”
I popped to my feet. “I’ll leave you alone now. You rest, okay?” Bending down, I gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head.
“I will,” she said softly as I turned to leave.
Pausing at the door, I looked back at Abby. The sooner this visit was over, the better.
Seventeen
I clung to my resolution to let the past stay buried, but the next morning a restless feeling dogged me. Abby had missed breakfast, and in spite of her reassurances that her illness was nothing more that a slight case of the flu, I was worried. I’d wanted to spend the morning with her, but she insisted that all she needed was rest.
Translation…I can’t sleep with you hovering over me.
Reluctantly I left her alone and moseyed out to the kitchen. Now the only ones left in the house were me, Aunt Dot, and Great-Aunt Mary—Tink had spent the night at Lydia’s, and was no doubt smothering Dad with attention. Being on my own with the Aunts wasn’t an easy situation. I didn’t mind spending time with Aunt Dot, but all during breakfast Great-Aunt Mary’s blue eyes shot daggers in my direction, as if I were somehow responsible for Abby’s illness, Dad’s accident, and any other problems that had reared their nasty heads during our visit. Conversation was stilted, and it made poor Aunt Dot so anxious that she almost burnt the biscuits. As soon as we finished eating, I grabbed Ethan’s now clean, dry handkerchief and bolted.
As I hiked up to his hideaway, I thought about Great-Aunt Mary. Her comments over the past few days grated on me. She obviously thought I was spoiled—as an only child, it was a litany I’d heard most of my life—that I’d wasted my talents, that I’d betrayed my heritage.
Humph, she could think what she wanted. In a few days we’d be gone, and I wouldn’t have to deal with her judgmental attitude. I couldn’t wait.
I fingered Ethan’s handkerchief as I walked along, and my thoughts switched to him. What a mixed bag those were. On one level, I couldn’t seem to help being attracted to him, and not just physically, but emotionally, too. His acceptance of my gift was rare. The few men that I’d allowed into my life were either freaked by the whole thing or wanted to use me for their own reasons. Ethan didn’t fall into either category. He seemed to accept me for what I was. He’d listened to me when no one else would, and as a result we’d found Tink.
But on the other hand, when I’d first met him, he was playing the role of a big, bad, biker. And, along with everyone else in town, I’d bought into it. Now he was just as convincing as a good ol’ boy selling drugs. So who was he really? Was he a hero or a villain?
With a frown, I shoved the cloth into my pocket. It didn’t make a difference. Whatever I might have felt for him, or had hoped to feel, was impossible now. His affair with Sharon had killed it.
Just as well, I argued with myself. I had a full life…I didn’t need romance to make it complete.
But every now and then, when I saw happy couples, I couldn’t help thinking…
“Oh drop it,” I told myself, “look at the Aunts—they’re happy.”
I skidded to a halt, flashing back to the regret I’d sensed in Great-Aunt Mary. I wouldn’t exactly call her happy. Is that what I might become someday? Aloof, scary, and except for an extended family, alone? At one point in my life that picture would’ve appealed to me, but now it didn’t. I didn’t want to spend my life holding everyone at arm’s length.
I’d been so intent on my thoughts that I’d marched right by the entrance to Ethan’s hideaway. Shoving them away, I turned and retraced my steps until I found the cave. I squatted down and shoved the cloth deep into the branches that hid the entrance. I didn’t want any white flapping material to draw anyone’s attention to this spot. Standing, I turned to find the path blocked by Ethan.
“You’ve taken to wandering these mountains quite a bit, haven’t you, Jensen?” he asked with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
At a loss what to say, I stared past him, down the mountain. “Ah, I’m returning your handkerchief.”
He chuckled. “That’s okay—you could’ve kept it.”
“No, I don’t like keeping personal items,” I said as I moved to step around him.
A touch on my arm brought me up short.
“I thought about you all night.” His grin vanished. “Are you feeling better today?”
“I’m fine,” I said sharply.
“Do you want to explain what happened?”
Sidling away, I refused to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
And I meant it. I didn’t want to think about the standing stones. As far as I was concerned, the Dorans were welcome to that cursed piece of land.
His hand stopped me again. “It might help if you talked it out.”
“I don’t need to talk it out. I need to get back to the house.” I looked pointedly down at his hand still on my arm.
His hand fell to his side. “Look, if you’re embarrassed about what happened in the clearing—”
“I’m not embarrassed,” I insisted hotly. Actually I was—I must have looked like a wild woman, pounding on that stone then on him—but I didn’t intend to admit it.
Cocking his head, his gray eyes roamed my face. “I’d really like to help you, Ophelia,” he said softly.
This man would not quit badgering me. “I don’t need help,” I insisted, shoving my hands on my hips.
He took a step forward and his voice took a hard edge. “What happened to get you so pissed off?”
“Nothing,” I declared, dropping my hands and taking a step back. “I just don’t appreciate being interrogated.”
“Ha!” He gave a rough bark of laughter. “That’s funny coming from you. I’ve seen you in action, remember? You drilled that poor guy—”
“And as I recall, you were ready to shake the truth out of him.” His lips curled in a wry grin as he took another step closer. “Would it help if I tried that? Then would you tell me what has you is such a twist?”
Refusing to let him intimidate me, I held my ground. “I think you have more than enough problems without worrying about me.”
“Jeez, Jensen,” he said, his gray eyes suddenly warming. “I can’t seem to help myself. There’s just something about you that makes me want to play the white knight.”
“Well, go play somewhere else,” I shot back. “I don’t need to be rescued.”
“Maybe not, but I think you do need an ally,” he said, looking me up and down. “Your family has been stonewalling you.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugged. “I’ve heard talk.”
“What kind of talk?”
He gave another shrug and said nothing.
I studied him carefully as my emotions waged a war inside my head. Which was he, hero or villain? I couldn’t decide.
Ethan had helped me when I needed it most, even risked his career by doing so. It was tempting, oh it was tempting, to pour out all my thoughts and worries to him. I knew from our shared history that he was a good listener. Maybe he was right—I did need to talk it out. Maybe it would help me shake the twitchy feeling I’d had all morning. He’d been with the Dorans for months…that Zachary Doran was scum wouldn’t come as any surprise. He could warn me if Sharon had any other tricks up her sleeve.
I pulled myself up short. Sharon and my dream. Ethan was literally sleeping with the enemy. No way could I trust him, and it made me angry.
“You can’t help me. It might blow your cover.” I spun away from him and started down the path. “And I wouldn’t want to make your girlfriend jealous,” I called back as a parting shot.
Ethan caught up with me in two long strides, and grabbing my elbow, spun me around.
“Wait a minute,” he exclaimed. “What girlfriend?”
“Let’s put it this way—I didn’t realize just how far undercover you were!” I snapped.
His forehead wrinkled in a frown. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Sharon. Are you going to close the case before or after she expects you to marry her?”
His frown fell away while his eyebrows shot up. “Marry her?” he sputtered. “Are you nuts?”
“No, I’m not nuts, and I’m not stupid,” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You’re sure as the devil confused.” He shook his head in dismay. “And now you’re confusing me.”
He certainly looked confused. He looked like he didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. But I wasn’t going to let him con me.
“Listen, slick, you’d better be careful,” I said, jabbing a finger at him. “Remember, people in these mountains are famous for shotgun weddings.”
He shook his head as if he were trying to clear it. “The would-be bride has to be preg—Ha!” he scoffed. “You have to have sex with someone first.”
Arching an eyebrow, I stared at him without comment.
His jaw fell. Snapping it shut, he glowered at me. “You think I’m sleeping with Sharon Doran?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Hell no,” he proclaimed.
“Liar,” I shot back. “I saw you.”
Lowering his head, he shook it back and forth slowly. “You have fallen off your broom, haven’t you…and it addled your brain. You can’t see something that hasn’t happened.”
“But…” I hesitated. His sincerity took me off guard. “I had a dream. Sharon seduced you—”
“Not in this lifetime.” He took a step closer. “The dream was wrong,” he insisted.
Tugging on my lip, I tried to recall the dream. “It felt true.” Turning my back to him, I stared down the mountain. The cabin, the men gathered around the table…the rustle of leaves broke into my thoughts and I felt Ethan standing close. This time I didn’t move away.
“Have you ever been mistaken?” he asked quietly.
“Umm…occasionally.” Turning, I cocked my head and studied him. He looked so earnest. “But it’s because I’ve read the signs wrong. And this dream was pretty explicit. I saw you with her…she led you to the glade…the full moon…the summer breeze…you—”
He held up his hands, stopping me. “I don’t want to hear the rest.” He shuddered. “I don’t care what the dream showed. I’ve never had sex with Sharon, and trust me, I’ve worked very hard to make sure I never do.”
“But I saw the way she latched onto you that day at Abernathy’s. Like she owned you.”
A faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “Maybe in her dreams, but not in reality,” he answered firmly.
In her dreams? A flash of inspiration hit me. “How long have you been here?”
“A couple of months?”
“You weren’t here this summer?”
“No.”
A huge sense of relief filled me. The scene I’d witnessed had taken place in the summer, not the fall. It wasn’t of the past, but of the future. Or at least it was what Sharon had planned for the future. And sometimes the future could be changed. Ethan was a hero after all.
He caught my shifting emotions. “What?” he asked with a perplexed look.
How did I explain? I had to warn him what Sharon was trying to do without sounding crazy.
I scuffed the ground with the toe of my boot. “Let me ask you a few questions…are you missing any underwear?”
“Huh?” His voice sounded incredulous.
Well, so much for not sounding crazy.
Sighing, I looked at him. “Underwear…has she offered to do your laundry?”
“Yes.”
“Did you let her?”
“Yes,” he grudgingly replied.
“Was any of your underwear missing when she gave them back to you?”
“I don’t know,” he grumbled. “I don’t count them.”
“Has she ever offered you something to drink then drank out of the same cup or glass?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “A couple of times.”
I snapped my fingers, remembering something from one of the old journals. “You haven’t seen any skull-shaped candles lying around, have you?”
Ethan’s eyes flared in surprise. “My God, no!”
“Does she have a picture of you?”
He gave his head a vehement shake. “Absolutely not. In my line of work, we avoid cameras.”
“Has she ever given you a piece of candy?”
“How did you know?” he asked in amazement. “Yesterday…a piece of peppermint…I don’t like peppermint, so I spit it out when her back was turned.”
“Good for you,” I said with a nod.
Pulling his hands through his hair, he stared at me in frustration. “You are the most—” He cut himself off. Dropping his hands, he continued, “Why all the questions?”
Pleased with myself, I gave him a cheeky grin. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
“She’s trying to cast a love spell on you.”
“With candy?”
I nodded. “Yeah, the woman, or the man, rubs it on the bottom of their foot then gives it to the object of their affection. It’s supposed to make that person follow them.”
“She touched her foot with that…and I…I put it in—” His face blanched and I thought he’d gag.
“Yeah, good thing you spit it out,” I replied in a cheery voice.
With a shake of his head, he sighed deeply as the color came back into his cheeks. “Do the spells work?”
“I’m told they can,” I replied, thinking of Aunt Dot’s “back door Betty.” “I don’t know for sure. I’ve never tried it.”
“Would you?” he asked, eyeing me speculatively. “Try one, I mean?”
“No, of course not. They’re
unethical.”
A strange look crossed his face, but I ignored it.
“You need to be careful,” I lectured, shaking a finger at him. “Keep track of your laundry and don’t let her get her hands on it. Don’t accept anything from her. Hide your hairbrush.”
His face told me he took me seriously. “Is there any way that I can protect myself?” he said as he pointed at the chain around my neck. “You wear an amulet.”
I thought about the runescript that I’d made for Abby. I could make one for Ethan, a sort of antilove spell.
“Yes, but I have to think about what would work.” I shook my head. “You can’t let Sharon see it. She’d know right away what it was and it might blow your cover.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he chewed on his lip for a moment. “This assignment’s been a mess from the get-go.” He frowned, then rolled his shoulders as if trying to cast off one of Sharon’s spells. “I’d better get back to the Dorans before someone comes looking for me.” He laid a hand on my arm. “You’ll be okay walking back?”
I nodded. “I’ll make something for you and leave it in the cave. It’ll be a piece of wood with carvings on it. Keep it with you where Sharon can’t find it.”
Giving me a squeeze, he smiled. “Thanks. I’ve got faith in you, Jensen.”
With a wink, he turned and headed off into the woods.
Eighteen
On the way back to the house I stopped at the outcrop of rock overlooking the valley, Abby’s favorite spot. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. I was relieved that Ethan wasn’t a creep with no morals, and his faith in me gave my heart a sorely needed lift. But I was worried, too. He balanced on a thin wire, keeping Sharon at a distance, yet still maintaining his cover. I’d do whatever I could to help him.
What? Whatever I made had to be small, small enough for Ethan to carry with him without being obvious. I couldn’t carve a script as long in length as I had for Abby. Three would work, but which ones?
The first that sprang to mind was Thurisaz. A strong masculine rune, it represented thorns, brambles, a force of both protection and destruction. I saw Ethan surrounded by a ring of thorny bushes, being held safe in its center.
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