Protected by Stone (A Paranormal Romance Novel)

by Cynthia Brint

  “Does it come with the ride?” I was painfully aware of my dwindling funds.

  Her nod might as well have been a celebration gong. “It does.”

  Eyeing the bowls of muffins, I pointed at a fat, glossy chocolate chip one. “Then, yes, coffee would be nice. One of those muffins as well.” My stomach rumbled audibly.

  She blessed me with a knowing smile, handing me two of the wrapped goodies. “Of course, love. Here you go.”

  With my stomach full, caffeine in my blood, the morning flew by. By noon, the train was filling with passengers. However, none of them acknowledged me or said a word. Scrunched up in my seat, alone with my thoughts, the subject

  remained one thing.

  Was my grandmother actually a witch?

  The idea was silly, and I knew that. Knowing did very little to assuage my curiosity, my doubts.

  Digging into my pocket, I withdrew the wrinkled letter. Dusting crumbs off the small table in front of me, I spread the note out flat. 'Dear Miss Blooms,' I read again, breezing over the parts I'd seen.

  'I need you to come claim my house and my possessions, and the time to do so is short. There is much here for you, and I hope you find it pleasant.

  When you arrive, we'll talk in detail.

  I'm sorry, again, that we never touched base till now. Gina had her reasons for requesting I stay away from her, and thus you, too. But, life is strange, it throws things our way we never expected.

  I have the utmost confidence that you will fit in here. My home welcomes everyone, no matter who they are.

  It may seem daunting at first. You're connected to me, though, our blood is the same. I believe in you, and I am sure you will impress everyone.

  There is magic inside all of us. You only need to look close, to believe in it, and it will be there when you're ready.'

  When I'd first read it, I'd glazed over the words until I narrowed out the things that made it seem like a fake. My gut rippled at the knowledge that my grandmother, a woman I had never known about, would have sent it as an attempt to connect with me.

  Why would my mother keep us apart? It can't really be about something so weird as being a 'witch' or whatever.

  Can it?

  I read that letter. I read it over and over, taking in each sentence, every word, with rising curiosity.

  'There is magic inside all of us. You only need to look close, to believe in it, and it will be there when you're ready.'

  Tessa wrote this to me. This is for me. And now, I thought, gazing out the window at the rolling hills of green, I'm going to take over her house. Without having ever met her... I'm going to take over.

  Folding the letter gingerly, I hid it away. It was an important connection between me and this woman I didn't know. A link to my history that my mother, for reasons I still didn't grasp, had chose to hide away.

  But not anymore. I have a feeling I'm going to find out quite a lot when I arrive.

  It was hard to decide if the burning in my stomach was from indigestion or fear.

  ****

  I must have fallen asleep. My cheek was pressed on the window, leaving a trail of fog and saliva that I hastily scrubbed away. The outside world was pitch, enveloping the forest I could hardly make out.

  Turning on my seat, smoothing my hair nervously, I debated looking for the attendant. Maybe they could tell me how far we are, now. The sudden whistle told me instead.

  There, I could see dots of orange light out in the distance. Crushing my palms on the glass, I watched the place coming closer. That must be Barrow Village.

  On the curving tracks, my train slowly wound around like a snake circling a mouse. The village was tiny, quaint as a post card. Though there were many lights illuminating the front of the station and homes, it was difficult to get a good look at the place. I wondered where, among everything, my grandmother's house would be.

  The wheels squealed until the train halted. Around me, people murmured, coming to life with our destination reached. So few people; for every person we picked up at another station, we lost half as we progressed along.

  Hooking my bag on my elbow, I was sure I was one of a mere four climbing from the train. “This is Barrow Village, right?” I asked an older man, his hair hidden by a squat hat.

  His forehead became a field of waves. “Of course it is, Miss. You aren't lost, are ya?” The way he spoke, I felt like he was suspicious of me.

  “No, of course not. Why would I—uh—why would I seem lost?”

  “Well,” he chuckled, glancing up at the station roof. “No one comes to Barrow Village that isn't looking for it.”

  Scrubbing one foot on my opposite ankle, I gave a knowing nod. “I see, right.” The old man squinted at me, like he was struggling to see. Sweat was gathering between my shoulder blades. “I'm not lost. I'm looking for my grandmother's house.”

  “Ah,” he said, chin bobbing sagely. “So you are here for a reason.”

  “I... guess so, yeah.” I am, right? Why does it sound so weird when he says it.

  Turning in place, he faced me fully and extended a thin set of fingers. I couldn't help but notice he was missing his pinky. “Name's Dirk. Welcome to Barrow Village, Miss...?”

  Not wasting a second, worried he already thought I was out of sorts, I shook his hand. The skin was almost lacquered. “Farra, just call me Farra.”

  “Farra,” he mused, giving my palm a gentle squeeze. “That's a nice name. Well, if you've got business here, I won't keep you.” He turned away, his hair glinting like frost under his hat. Oddly, it made me think of Grault.

  Reaching out, I resisted the urge to grab his shoulder. The idea of wandering around in a dark village without knowing where I was going didn't appeal to me. “Oh, wait!”

  Dirk did just that, tossing a curious look over his shoulder. We were the only ones left on the platform. “Hm? Something you need, Miss?”

  Hesitating in the face of his question, it only took the distant squeak of some animal in the woods surrounding us to get me talking. “I don't actually know where I'm going. It's my first time to Barrow, so, uh, if you could maybe point me in the right direction...”

  Dirk chuckled, not unkindly. I noticed he was dragging a large suitcase with him, the wheels bumping on the rough wood as he took a few steps. “Not a problem, you only had to ask. Come on, we'll make a stop at my place first, if that's alright?”

  “That's fine,” I said, tightness vanishing from my neck. “Completely fine.” Following him around the station, I was grateful to be away from those dark trees.

  In the light of the lamps hanging around, Barrow Village felt ominous. Yet, as I walked with Dirk across the soft grass or the flat cobble, passing quiet homes with their glowing windows... the feeling changed for the better.

  I've never been to such a small town. Is this where my mother grew up?

  Dirk's suitcase caught against the ground, the rocks grinding. He grunted, yanking it as if it were a stubborn mule. “Here,” I said quickly, bending down to kick the bits of grit free from the wheels.

  That time, when he gave a pull, it rolled forward. “Thanks muchly,” he sighed, looking me up and down. “This suitcase is showing her time, I suppose.”

  “Let me help,” I said, motioning for the handle. Dirk flashed me a quick grin, tugging the luggage back down the walkway. “Nope. No need.” My pride would have been more pricked if he hadn't gestured to a tall building beside us. “We're here, my home sweet home.”

  Lifting my head, I squinted at the two-story house. It was a pretty beige, thick bushes of some kind of yellow flower on either side of the door. The sign hanging over it was small, I almost missed it.

  “Dr. Colton?” I asked, peering at his gentle smile, then the sign, then back again. “You're a doctor?”

  “Indeed,” he nodded, fiddling with the lock. The metal clinked, the door swinging inward. “But please, just keep calling me Dirk.”

  Pushing my dark hair from my eyes, I took careful steps into the bu
ilding. It was black, a long hallway that crammed around on all sides. Dirk switched on the lights, washing the place into life.

  At the end of the passage, I was relieved to see a room with both a staircase in the corner and another door across the way. Knowing it was bigger inside only helped so much, though. The hallway around me was too tight, my skull started to pound.

  Oh, wow, it's... this is kind of...

  “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out to touch my elbow. I saw him moving, but I still twitched under the contact. “It's alright,” he whispered soothingly, “I'm a doctor, remember?”

  Licking my lower lip, I wiped my soaked palms on my shirt. “Sorry, sorry. I'm fine, really, I just, you know... tight spaces.”

  “Claustrophobic, I take it.” He didn't ask.

  Wordless, I gave a tiny nod. Dirk set his suitcase down, shutting the front door. The noise of it, gentle as he was, set my blood surging. “Here, Farra, this way.” He guided me forward, making me finish the walk on shaking knees. The inner room was crowded with shelves of books, charts on the mahogany walls.

  Hurrying through, I wasn't entirely comforted by the still low ceiling. But the walls were further away, the place emptier.

  He motioned for me to sit in one of the two chairs. I almost fell into it. “Sorry,” I mumbled, hanging my head down between my knees. “Sorry, really sorry. That shouldn't have been so bad, I think I'm just hungry and tired from traveling.”

  I heard a soft rustling noise from the other side of the room, like Dirk was digging through paper. He nudged me once, then again until I lifted my eyes. That sweet, lined face warmed me. I wonder how old he is? Forties, fifties? The sight of the red lollipop shoved my curiosity aside.

  I saw my fingers trembling as I took the treat, blushed at my own weakness. “Thanks. I'll be fine, really, I just need a minute.”

  “No rush needed on my part, darlin'.” He pulled up the other chair, sitting across from me. “You always had it bad like that?”

  The candy was a burst of flavor, bringing me down and helping me stabilize. “Far as I can remember, yeah.” I'm not about to tell him all of... that. I don't even know him.

  He studied me, reminding me instantly of the visits to my childhood doctor. I had to rub my eyes to convince myself it wasn't the same guy. He has that same comfortable aura around him.

  Lifting my gaze, I scanned the room, narrowing in on the staircase. “Do you live here, alone?” Oh gosh, was that rude to ask?

  “I get a lot of visitors.” When he stood, he groaned ever briefly. It made me think about how late it was, and apparently reminded us both of the reason I was here. “So,” he said, thumbs hooking in his belt loops, “where exactly does your grandmother live?”

  “I'm actually not entirely sure,” I admitted, digging into my pocket for the letter. I didn't pull it out, just touched it. “There was no address on the envelope.” Or I threw it away without noticing, one of those things.

  Amazingly, he didn't appear too shocked. “It's alright, Farra. Place like this, it's small enough that we all know each other to some extent or another.” Moving to the far wall, Dirk squinted at a chart I couldn't make out. “What's her name?”

  “Well, she sort of... her name was Tessa, but she died recently.” I didn't expect much of a reaction. Seeing Dirk twist around, gawking at me with blatant surprise set the hairs on my arms prickling.

  “You're Tessa's kin?” He was standing still, one hand pressed to his chest like he was holding himself together. He fumbled into a pocket, pulling out thin glasses.

  The lollipop felt heavy in my grip. “I'm her granddaughter—I mean, I guess I am, that's still debatable I suppose—yeah. Uh, are you okay? What's wrong?”

  “Nothing, nothing,” he said, smoothing his face into something more calm. It didn't matter, though. I'd seen how he'd looked at me. Something about me, or my grandmother, had scared him. “I didn't know she had a granddaughter.”

  “I didn't know I had family,” I said with a shrug. “That's kind of why I'm here. Just trying to figure out all of this.”

  Dirk sat back in the chair, watching me like an owl. “You didn't know? Oh, Farra...” His sympathy didn't settle my unease. Thin fingers rubbed over his pants, erasing the wrinkles. “You have my condolences.”

  About Tessa passing, or about not knowing about being her kin? I wondered nervously. “Um, thanks. I really do need to go to her house, though.” Grault implied it was very urgent. Thinking about the stranger made me wonder, not for the first time, where he even was. “If you could just show me the way, or even point me in the right direction?”

  He was already shaking his head. “The place you want to go, it's too far out of the way to travel to in the dark.”

  “Too far?”

  “Much too far,” he said, his tone flat and without argument. “But,” he went on, his smile reaching his eyes, “I promise I'll take you there myself in the morning.”

  “What will I do until then?” I asked, frustrated by having to put my journey off further.

  Dirk arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugging like he might laugh. “I imagine you'll sleep. Farra, you look exhausted.”

  Gingerly, I touched my cheeks, felt my sore neck. He's right, I haven't slept very well since Grault woke me. The train hardly counts for much.

  “How about this,” he said, wandering towards the door across the way. “You go use my shower, clean up, and then spend the night here. I'll even make you breakfast, if you want.”

  The idea of a shower, of actual sleep, was making me more drained. Covering my mouth, I stifled a yawn. “It sounds amazing, but...”

  “Hm?”

  Darting a glance away, I bit my tongue. My question felt too vulnerable to ask, yet it was halfway out of my mouth before I considered stopping it. “Why are you being so nice to me? We just met, what's the reasoning?”

  Then he did laugh, the lines on his face growing deeper with his amusement. Again, it lacked any sense of cruelty. Dirk didn't seem capable of such an awful thing. “I guess I just like helping people. Comes with the job, I suppose.”

  Of course, he's a doctor. Must be his nature. It was enough of a reason to calm me down. Maybe I was naive, but... I trusted him, I did believe he meant me no harm.

  “Alright,” I said, crunching down on the last of the lollipop. “Show me where the shower is, please.”

  Chapter Four.

  I didn't remember dreaming.

  The scent of bacon was in my nose, the ceiling above me strange. Turning my head, I spotted drawings of the human body on the walls. That's right, I'm at Dirk's house.

  Sitting up on the table in the small room, the place I knew he normally had patients sit while he asked them questions, I scratched my scalp. The place might have been creepy, doctor offices notoriously were. Somehow, Dirk had made the room feel homey. The walls with their charts, the rubber human body in the corner, it all served to remind me more of a science classroom.

  Straightening my hair, then the long shirt and sweat pants I'd slept in, I inhaled deeply. He's cooking breakfast for sure. But where? Cracking the door, I peered into the main room. I saw no hint of Dirk at all. Then, above me, the ceiling creaked.

  Glancing at the stairs, I nodded to myself. Aha, he must have a place to cook up there. The shower had been attached to the room I'd slept in. I hadn't wandered upstairs, or considered it, till just then.

  “Hello?” I called out, taking the steps slowly. There weren't many of them, so I was worried about catching Dirk by surprise.

  “Come on up, Farra!” he shouted, seconds before I poked my head into the upper room. It was wide, a giant attic. Light poured in from a few open windows, glowing on smooth wooden floors. Doctor Colton stood in a corner, bent over a tiny stove. “Morning,” he said, flashing me a grin.

  “Morning,” I replied, wandering into the middle of the room. The rafters stretching above, hanging with strings of dried flowers and apples, had me turning in a circle. “Th
is is wonderful! Look at this place, wow!”

  Snorting, Dirk scraped at his frying pan. “It does the job. Hungry?”

  “Starving,” I admitted, moving over to hover by the cooking eggs. In an easy motion, the doctor spooned the scrambled yolks onto two plates already stacked with crispy bacon.

  Like a hungry dog, I followed him to a small table he'd set by a window. “That smells great.” Inhaling through my nose, I dropped into a chair. “Really great.”

  “Thanks,” he chuckled, setting everything down. I was confused when he didn't sit. Watching him wander over to a tiny fridge, pulling out a pitcher of bright orange juice, gave me both understanding and a watering mouth.

  Together we dug in, chewing away in a silence understood by hunger. Dirk ate slow, not a hint of impatience showing. I, however, had to keep myself from shoveling the delicious breakfast into my mouth.

  I copied him when he dabbed at his chin with a napkin. “Good?” he asked, knowing the answer.

  “Yeah, really good.” Chugging the juice, I exhaled with a grin. “A doctor and a cook, why are you living alone again?”

  His chuckle was indulgent, but it lacked the normal heart he seemed to have. My shame at wondering if I'd overstepped wasn't allowed to linger. “I didn't notice it at first, not without my glasses, but you look so much like Tessa. Are you nervous at all about seeing her home for the first time today?”

  “Not really,” I said, gazing out the window at the lush forest nearby. “I'm kind of... curious? Relieved, even, I guess. This news was weird.” I thought about Grault almost knocking my door down. “Really weird, actually. But it came at a good time.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  Poking at my empty plate, I kept staring at the world outside. The smell of the morning air was invigorating. “Mn. Maybe it's too personal, I don't know.”

  “No, no,” he whispered, “don't worry. Go on, if you feel like talking about it.”

  I felt the frown spread, didn't bother to try and halt it. “I've just had a run of bad luck, is all. Good things don't happen to me. I didn't even think the letter Tessa sent was real, how awful is that?” For a second, I shut my eyes, wondering if he'd speak. When he didn't, I glanced at him. “A new place to stay, a new job, it's all sort of perfect.”