Lana's Calling: A Golden Hills Legacy Novel

by Nancy Glynn

  Jack let it go and put the kind mask back on. “I think your grandfather and father would be proud of you, Lana. William was a good man and founder of Golden Hills. He’s produced a fine granddaughter in you, and I hope to get to know better.”

  “Thank you, Jack. I wished I knew my grandfather, but I feel his presence in my home. The late Christian and Daisy would be shocked their daughter was even in a church, no matter what the belief. They were proud Catholics, but I’ve never been one for organized religion. I just wanted to come and meet all of you in one place and hope you visit me with any ideas you might want to suggest. I’m open to all, so feel free.” She smiled, watching everyone fill with joy at the thought. When she glanced back to Hunter, she saw him stand and sneak out of the doors.

  “Ah, but we’ll get her to change her mind and join us, won’t we?” Jack asked.

  “Hail Lana,” someone yelled out.

  Lana ignored his last comment. “Goodnight and drive safely.” She glanced at him before stepping aside, his fingers brushing through hers as she passed him by. “Oh, and thanks for that great song in my jeep.”

  Claps thundered throughout the church, causing her to turn and accept with a gracious smile, nodding her thanks.

  “Meet me for a drink,” Jack said in a desperate plea, before she walked down the three stairs.

  “I’m really tired, Jack. Perhaps another time?” For some ungodly reason, her body reacted to his unsaid words of more than a promise of drinks, the way his eyes undressed her.

  “Why, chasing after someone, maybe by the name of Hunter Bane?” His blue eyes grew dark and dangerous.

  She shook her head, still smiling. So that was his last name. “No, just tired.” She walked to her pew and grabbed her shawl before heading toward the doors. The congregation bowed to her, some kissed her hand, some hugged her. As she looked back at Jack, she found him staring at her, his yellow eyes pinning her, sending a shock of heat to her lower belly. Picturing what he really looked like, she turned away without another thought.

  Wondering where Hunter went, she swiftly walked, almost jogging as fast as her heels would allow to get outside and to see if she could locate him and his mother. She finally saw the older woman talking to another woman, but no Hunter. Something in his demeanor drew her to him, a tight rope tugging her, a hot need to find this man. He was so aloof and alluring, and she felt like a cat on the prowl for her prey. Wasn’t Hunter his name?

  After more personal introductions outside, she gave up and started for her car. Pulling her shawl tightly around her chilled shoulders, she hit her key fob and unlocked the jeep. As she opened the door, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find her prey.

  Chapter 8

  Lana turned and looked up into the most intense eyes she’d ever seen in her life, a mixture of blues, greens, and yellows, framed by dark knitted brows. “Oh, hello, Hunter. I thought you’d left. I wanted to check on you as you seemed so…”

  “Out of it? I hate that church and everything it represents. I only did it for my mother who adores Jack Red. I don’t like the hold he has on her, but he seems to have it for all the women in this town,” he stated, slightly raising his brow.

  “Really? I just met him so not sure what you mean,” she said, her eyes shifting away before returning to his cold stare. If only he knew how much she hated Jack Red, probably more than he ever could.

  “Yeah, right. Well, I really just wanted to apologize again for my rudeness. That wasn’t fair to you. It’s hard to hide behind a mask like Jack easily does.”

  “Why did you leave when I was talking about my parents?” She wanted to know the reason for everything he did in there. Night covered the star-filled sky. The last of the few straggling cars drove out, beeping at her and waving goodbye to which she reciprocated with a smile.

  “Look, I need to get going. Please forgive my rude behavior.” He started for his truck.

  “Why do I feel like you’re avoiding me? We just met, but I feel like…I don’t know,” she asked, her voice rising with agitation. “Do I smell or something?” she teased, lifting an arm up to her nose.

  He looked back at her and shrugged. A small smile played on his lips, but he fought it. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m just not the social type and don’t like small chatter. I did like your ideas for more schools, though. I have a few cousins that need a better education.”

  Her somber attitude cheered up, her eyes lit with excitement. “Can I get your input? Maybe stop by tomorrow for lunch. I’m new to all this myself, but could use—”

  He held his hand up for her to stop, shaking his head. “I’ll never set foot in Stone Manor.”

  A puzzled look crossed her face. “Okay, how about Jack’s Den?”

  He sighed and gave in. “Fine. Tomorrow at noon.” He turned and walked to his truck.

  She studied how his long jean-clad leg and booted foot hung out of the door to the ground, his legs temporarily apart, before pulling it in and slamming it shut. A mild heat may have been there earlier for Jack, but an inferno now burned her insides for Hunter. Jumping in her jeep, she sat and watched him back up and then around her, nodding toward her before driving away.

  On the way home, she couldn’t get Hunter Bane out of her head. Those haunting blue eyes, those full lips, the standoffish way he carried himself, like he didn’t have a care in the world. His strong imprint on her shoulder.

  It usually took her a few dates before feeling an attraction to a man, and they had to work for it. Not that she played hard to get, but she certainly wasn’t an easy catch. Being a teacher of teenagers drained her at night. Once, she even fell asleep at a guy’s apartment while watching a movie. He was miffed when she decided to go home to bed…alone. Even after he tried to coax her with a deep kiss. And it was a nice kiss, but not enough to make her want to stay.

  When her parents died last month, she swore off men and turned to stone, the perfect name for her. She broke it off with Matthew, a nice teacher she began to date, because she just knew it wasn’t going anywhere, especially after her parents’ unexpected deaths. She didn’t want to drag anyone down her dark path of revenge.

  But here she was, thinking of a man she just met and wanted to know everything about. It was a battle within herself and needed a fresh dose of cold water to cool off. For now, bed was calling her name and she just wanted to sleep a dreamless sleep. She would mentally say that prayer and push all dark thoughts away.

  Except for the dreams she had of a man invading not only her dreams, but her body. Now that she had Hunter on her mind, she didn’t want this faceless man to come anymore, but the thought saddened her, and she didn’t understand.

  ***

  The room was pitch black except for the sliver of light through the window from the full moon. When she opened her eyes, she had to rub them to see better of the vision at the foot of her bed. The hazy form appeared to be of a woman with long, dark hair and yellow eyes, eyes of the dead as her mother used to say.

  Lana pushed herself up against her pillows and could see the fireplace right through her ghostly figure. She wore a long, white nightgown made of Irish lace. The woman pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind her, daisies to be exact, and began to chew on them, blood dripping down her mouth, her eyes growing blacker, the color of onyx.

  “Who are you?” Lana asked, not allowing fear to shake her voice.

  The apparition smiled, a slash across her face. A slow rising cackle began in her throat and grew louder, her body floating closer to Lana. This creature cupped Lana’s face, a feeling of cold, leathery skin, and pressed her equally cold lips to hers. Lana struggled to push her off, a force that challenged Lana’s powers.

  And then she realized who it was. “Charlotte,” she whispered.

  “I hated your mother, and I hate you. You should have been my daughter with Christian.” She imbibed Lana’s mouth, choking her, spitting the bloody daisies inside.

  Lana inhaled as hard as she could and th
en exhaled, throwing the girl across the room and into an invisible void, sucking her in like a tube, a scream echoing into silence.

  Grasping for air and clutching at her neck, Lana gained control of her breathing, her coloring returning to normal. She wiped the petals and blood off her lips and stared at the empty space before her. A flicker of fire in the hearth roared, warming the freezing room to a nice temperature.

  As the next day began, she couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. After sharing a few words with Eric, she grabbed her keys and a jacket before running out to her jeep. The sun hid beneath some scattered clouds, a gray hazy hue absorbing the sky.

  She sped out through the opening gates without having to punch in the code. King Road loomed ahead, driving past thickets of pines, browns blended with blooming greens of early spring. As she drove with her windows down, she could hear the howling of wolves.

  The path led her to the forest she searched for, needing to feel at peace. The same forest that hid a black little church nestled in the back. Something lured her as she pulled into the parking lot. Something dark. It called out to her, but she decided to back out and go wait at Jack’s Den, even though it was only eleven. Whatever was back there, she wasn’t ready for it and, perhaps, never would be.

  Driving to Jack’s Den, knowing Hunter would be there soon, put a little extra beat in her heart, an excitement for an unfamiliar territory, an urge that started the moment she locked eyes with his in the church.

  As she walked into the darkened atmosphere, the staff ran around, bowing to her and guiding her to a table in the back. She dressed more casually today with a mint green sweater top and light-colored jeans, and hair pulled into a ponytail that hung down her back. She followed the older waitress and slid into a booth adorned by lit torches and candles on the table.

  “Thank you, Karen. I’m waiting for a gentleman by the name of Hunter Bane. Could you please show him back here?”

  A newer girl ran up to Karen and whispered in her ear. “Oh, Mr. Bane called and left a message for you just before you walked in. Something about not feeling well and would have to postpone. Do you still want to order anything?”

  Why didn’t she believe him? “Listen, Karen. Do you know where Mr. Bane lives? I normally wouldn’t ask, but I’d like to make sure he’s okay.”

  Karen looked around and then nodded. “Yes. His family has been part of Golden Hills forever, I think even back to when your father lived here. He’s up on the hill near Christian Row, a side street off of King Road.”

  “A street named after my father? I didn’t know.” She added the address in her phone. Slipping a fifty-dollar bill in Karen’s hand, she winked and ran back to her jeep. Not feeling well? She just didn’t buy it. He was avoiding her again. But why?

  The drive was short and exactly where Karen had said it would be. A moderate-sized cottage style home with a landscaped front yard centered in a circular brick drive came into view behind some brush on a grassy hill, tucked away off the main street.

  A landscaper was dethatching the winter soil, preparing it for the summer. She parked and walked up to the pretty blue door. The older man waved with a smile and continued to dethatch the brown grass. She rang the bell and waited, tapping her sandaled foot. After a few minutes, the door opened and Hunter stood there in sweat shorts and a soaked tank top, a white towel around his neck, and sweat rolling down his face. He looked quite healthy to her.

  “I heard you’re not feeling well?” she asked, her voice iced with annoyance.

  “I’m not. A woman of your status shouldn’t be around me to catch it. Maybe another time,” he said, attempting to close the door, but she stuck her foot inside.

  “I’m calling you out and think you’re absolutely fine. May I?” she asked, gesturing to come in.

  The gardener whistled behind her, some old song from another time, another era. She glared into Hunter’s eyes before he relented and allowed her to come in. The cold air-conditioned home gave her goosebumps, making her rub her arms.

  “Sorry, the air is set low from my mother’s visit. She’s menopausal and gets hot flashes. I’ll turn it off.” He walked to the thermostat near a grandfather clock and adjusted it.

  “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” She loved the homey feel of the house, dark, warm colors, Oriental rugs, clusters of paintings on the walls, and a single staircase leading to the top landing and other rooms. The grandfather clock tolled twelve times.

  He guided her to a sitting room near a cozy fireplace and gestured for her to sit. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Something hot?”

  “Marietta?”

  A stocky, older woman with dark hair, wearing an apron, ran into the room. “Yes, Mr. Bane?”

  “Can you bring us some hot coffee, please?”

  “Of course,” she said, bowing to Lana and spinning on her heels.

  “How do you like the bowing?” he asked, taking the chair across from her, patting the towel to his face.

  She forced herself to look away from his muscular legs that were hidden beneath jeans yesterday. “More than my father did.”

  “I can see that. I’ve heard stories how he hated it, which is so strange.”

  “Not strange at all. He didn’t want this life.”

  “And you do?”

  “Yes.”

  He sat back and studied her, his feet planted on the floor while clasping his hands behind his head. His attire was excruciatingly distracting.

  She cleared her throat, pushing thoughts away. “Is that why you avoid me? You don’t like that I want to be here?”

  “Could be. Could be other things as well.”

  Now she studied him. “Like what?”

  Marietta carried a tray with two red mugs with steam seeping out. Cream and sugar in the ceramic creamer and sugar bowl also garnished the wooden tray, with spoons.

  “Thank you,” Lana said, giving her a wide smile, feeling Hunter’s eyes on her as she bent over to pour cream and add sugar, stirring and sipping the hot sweetness.

  “Thanks, Mare.” He also stood and grabbed his mug, tipping toward her in an airy cheer to which she returned. “Warmer now?” He sat back down.

  She nodded. “Yes, thanks.”

  They drank in silence, waiting to see who would be the first to speak. She crossed her leg over the other knee, her foot dangling, drawing his eyes to her painted toenails in her sandals, and then back up to her face. The ticking of a nearby clock was the only sound in the quiet room.

  She cleared her throat again. “You never answered my question. What other things?” She held her mug on her lap and tilted her head.

  “Let’s just say our families have a history with each other. It’s probably best I don’t get involved with you.”

  “What history?”

  He sighed, dismissing her question.

  She continued on. “How does your mother know Jack? This is a fairly new town.”

  Hunter set his empty mug down and relaxed again in his seat. “No, it’s not. Your mother may have destroyed Stone Manor, but there’re parts that didn’t go. My parents were newly married and became pregnant after the town turned to cinder dust. They were on the outskirts of Golden Hills, a small town called Libertyville, and decided to move here as did other neighboring towns. Babies were born and the town began to be repopulated once again.”

  “Except for Stone Manor?”

  “Yes, but little by little, that house started to reconstruct. There were no workers on site, no man power behind any of it, just every day the house grew until right before my twenty-first birthday when it was completely finished. It drew kids from the neighborhood around it to see how much more it had built, until we were all close to that mysterious age of twenty-one, and it was built. Just like in the pictures we had seen all over town,” he said, pausing to remember.

  “Go on.” The memory of her strange birthday dream at that age nagged at her subconscious.

  “About two mo
nths before my birthday, a man came into town and said he was the new mayor,” he said, scoffing.

  “Jack.”

  He nodded. “Jack. He went to everyone’s house, introducing himself, shaking their hands and holding their babies. He’d come to ours and talk with my father for hours in this room, my mother running around and making dinners Jack loved. Then after those meetings, my mom didn’t need to cook anymore. We had maids and cooks and fancy cars. I knew a deal had been struck.”

  She nodded. “I understand. Where is your father now? I saw your mother yesterday, but not your father.”

  “Heart attack, or so they say. But I know Jack’s behind it. And he knows I know.”

  Lana could now see the pain that lived in those watery blue eyes, pain she had known. Jack was just as much Hunter’s enemy as he was hers. She reached out to touch his hand, but he flinched it back as if it were poison. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just know how you feel.”

  “You don’t know anything of how I feel. You’re assuming too much.”

  “Then help me to know.”

  “Why do you care so much?” His blue gaze penetrated hers with scrutiny.

  She almost stuttered and wasn’t used to this kind of treatment from men. He was doing everything in his power to push her away, and she couldn’t figure it out. “I just do. We’ve both lost our parents I believe to the same person.”

  “You think Jack was the one who took your parents’ life?” His eyes squinted, his brows drawn tightly together.

  “I know he did.”

  “Okay then.”

  She stood, anger flaring in her eyes. “Are you telling me you know more about their deaths than I do?”

  Hunter also stood, stepping closer with a softer tone. “I’m just saying you need to look more carefully at the people in your life, Lana. I just thought you knew, and I apologize.” He walked her to the foyer.