“No! No I can’t take your word for it, because whatever this is obviously involves me too. I know you wish differently, but that’s just tough.”
“Yes it is,” he shot back, hands fisted at his sides. “You have no idea.”
“No I don’t, because you won’t tell me!”
“Fine.” He was furious, his eyes flashing emerald. “You asked for it.”
It was the anger that slammed into her first, making her gasp in shock. Another heat laced through it, persistent and unyielding. She shook her head, confused.
“But…” She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t seen how it could be possible. She’d known he was reluctant to acknowledge the strange link between them, but she couldn’t have guessed the reason why. “Jackson, I don’t understand.”
He rubbed his face wearily. When he met her gaze again he looked hunted. “Yes, you do.”
He loved her. He was completely in love with her. Stunned, she could only stare at him.
After a few moments he turned away, hands shoved into his pockets. She didn’t move, still trying to absorb the emotions that flooded her. The anger...that was frustration, directed at himself rather than at her. And love...
In a million years, she would never have guessed that he felt this way about her. There had never been any indication. How many times had he left the canteen as she arrived? How often had he avoided her gaze?
She recalled the things that Tom had teased her about and wondered at it. Jackson loved her. Jackson.
“And now you know why I shielded.” He said eventually, shifting uncomfortably as he faced her once more. He had the look of someone facing a firing squad. “I didn’t want you to feel awkward.”
If anyone was feeling awkward, it was him. Bewildered, Libby wondered what she was supposed to say. He certainly had the advantage here; she barely knew him.
Even so, the connection she felt with him made his admission seem impossibly normal.
“Why doesn't this feel weird?” She asked at last. She figured that she may as well ask, since he could hear her every thought anyway. “From the moment we met, I felt as though I already knew you. Of course, you've read my mind. You do know me.”
“Yes.”
She threw him a sidelong glance. “I'm a bit further behind.”
He huffed out a breath, his hands still jammed into his pockets. An awkward gesture, she discovered. She found it charming.
“I’ll shield, obviously. And you don’t need to worry that I’ll pressure you in any way.”
“I'm not worried.” She stared at a tree across the river, its branches bare of leaves, stark against the grey sky. Her emotions jumbled wildly. Elation, excitement, confusion.
“I don't really know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything.”
He meant it. It seemed impossible to her that he could mean it. Even as part of her celebrated, another part, the larger part, was wary. Sure she liked Jackson, with a weird infatuation that was completely new to her, but she had a plan. The plan did not include a relationship. Still....Turning her head, she met his gaze. “I like you.”
He sighed, looked away. “You think of me, you like me. You also liked that guy in the pub last night. And you have the right to, of course.”
“Jackson-” Warmth spread through her at the bitter trace of jealousy in his voice. It was dangerously compelling. She waited until his eyes met hers. “I like you. Can we start from there?”
A smile spread over his face. “We can.”
They both looked up as the rain started, intermittent drops that threatened more was to come.
“Come on, I’d better get you home.” He took her hand, leading her back the way they’d come. As the heavens opened, Libby yelped.
They ran for it. She laughed as they flung themselves into the car, pushing her wet hair from her face.
“I’m soaked.” She grinned at him as he started the engine, set the heaters to full. “Do you think it's a sign?”
“I hope not,” he replied, amused. Their eyes met in the shared joke and Libby felt her throat close in panic.
“Ah,” she straightened in the seat, hoping vainly that he couldn’t see her reaction.
“Libby.”
Of course he could.
“Libby.” His voice was almost stern and she looked up automatically. “It doesn’t matter. I'm not expecting you to leap into the same head space as me. Pun unintended.”
She threw him a look of disbelief.
“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated calmly. “I don’t want you worrying about that. I’m not going to push you into anything you’re unhappy with.”
She sighed as he put the car into gear and swung it around to head home.
“I like this place. Can we come back?”
“Yes, of course,” he promised.
She settled back into the seat, knowing he’d keep his word. They drove in silence for a while, before curiosity got the better of her.
“Why did you transfer here?” It wasn’t the most important question she wanted to ask, but it seemed the easiest. Glancing at his darkened expression, she realized that it wasn’t easy for him to answer.
“There was some…trouble.” He replied at last. “Then we moved here.”
She rolled her eyes at the brevity of his answer.
“You can’t tell me?”
“I could, but then I’d have to kill you.” His tone was teasing, but she sensed a dread in him that had her backing off. This was something he definitely wasn’t ready to share. “And I think that would be a real shame, since I enjoy your company.”
“It would be a shame,” she agreed, letting it go for now. “So tell me about the shielding. Can you teach me?”
He laughed. “No. I’m no good at that side of things. I was always able to read minds, to block and shield. I have no idea about the theory behind it.”
“You’re not interested in that?”
He flicked her an amused glance. “We’re not all wannabe anthropologists. Mum will help you. She said to let you know she would be happy to teach you.”
“She knows about me? Stupid question,” she realized. “Telepath family. Of course she does.”
“What time do you need to be home?” He asked suddenly. She glanced at her watch, surprised to see that it was only mid-morning.
“Whenever. Dad had errands to run.”
“I live just up here. Would you like to meet them?”
“Who?”
Laughing, Jack glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road. “My parents. Who else?”
“Er…” Libby looked at him uncertainly. She didn’t want to disappoint him, didn’t want to refuse him anything in fact. But meeting the parents seemed a little serious.
“Today?”
“Why not? They can answer your questions much more easily than I can.”
It was tempting. They’d know, or at least have a good idea, about her mother. Libby thought it over for a moment.
“Okay. Okay, let’s do it.”
Chapter Ten
If she didn’t think of it as meeting the parents it wouldn’t be so bad, Libby reasoned as they drove further from town. Information was important if she were ever going to fully understand what was happening to her. It was easy to focus on that rather than her nerves, since she was pretty motivated to find out more about her mother’s disappearance.
They turned up a long driveway lined with wooden fences. The farmhouse was clearly old, but beautifully kept. Horses grazed in the pastures that ran off to their right. On the left, a row of stables lined the large courtyard. She marveled that Kelly hadn’t mentioned that her family bred horses. Kelly talked, for sure, but mostly about Danny, and her observations of other people. At least Libby could now understand why those observations were always so accurate.
“Do you ride?”
“Yeah, but I’m more interested in motorbikes than animals,” Jackson gestured towards the horses. “They’re my parents�
�� obsession.”
“And Kelly?”
He smirked. “Hates them. She’s scared of horses, always has been.”
Which explained why the family business had never come up in conversation, Libby surmised with a smile.
The woman who came to the door was the spitting image of Kelly. Her long copper hair was swept into a knot at the nap of her neck and her green eyes smiled warmly. It was hard to be nervous in the face of such a welcome.
“Libby. I’m Anna.” She looked unaccountably pleased to see her and Libby tried not to dwell on why that might be. “Come on in.”
The man at the large kitchen table could only be Ian, Kelly and Jackson’s dad. He was blond, his hair a few shades darker than Jack's, with dark eyes that seemed to miss nothing. More reserved than his wife and daughter, he was nonetheless welcoming.
“Hello Libby.” He gestured for her to sit down as he folded the newspaper and put it to one side. “Kelly has been talking non-stop about you.”
She smiled nervously and some of her thoughts must’ve shown, as he laughed. “You can be certain that Anna and I will keep out of your head. Your thoughts are your own, I promise.”
“Mostly.” Jackson said wryly. “Listen, I’ll head out to the workshop to give you some privacy.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
Shooting her one of his amused glances, Jackson squeezed her shoulder gently. “It’s alright.”
He leaned forward to take a slice of cake from the plate his mother had set in the centre of the table. “Do you want some?”
“No. Thanks.” She clasped her hands together anxiously. “I’m fine.”
As he disappeared out of the back door, Anna settled opposite Libby, still smiling.
“I’m so pleased to meet you at last. How are you coping with all the changes you’ve been through?”
“It’s been interesting,” Libby replied lightly. “I was hoping you could explain why this happened. Why now? Jack said he’s been telepathic as long as he can remember. Why was I different?”
“Talents pass down through families.” Ian explained. “We assume it’s genetic, but of course there has been no official research done. There are some talents in science research roles, but the secrecy and time involved in such a project would be immense. Not to mention costly. Talents appear to either show from birth or develop in the teenage years, usually after a trauma of some kind.”
“Which explains a lot,” Libby murmured. “I think…I’ve been thinking about my mother. She left quite suddenly and her note was incomprehensible to start. Then I started to wonder – after Kelly told me that the mind reading ran through your whole family – if this was something I inherited from mum. She was so distressed after the move, with the bankruptcy and everything. I think maybe she felt worse if she could feel my dad’s emotions too. The note…” Libby shook her head in frustration. “She said she needed time. Also she gave me a book about the studies into the sixth sense just before she left. I’m wondering if she is an empath too.”
Ian spoke carefully. “I can’t be sure, but if she is an empath…yes, she’d definitely have been struggling to block out your father. When you care deeply for someone it can be devastating to feel their pain. It could be she intends to get help.”
“Help?” Libby pictured her mother in some psychiatric ward and winced.
“There are talents who train others to cope with their skills. Blocking and so on.” Anna met Libby’s gaze steadily. “Please don’t pin your hopes on this. Your mother may not be an empath, or have any of the talents. It could be something passed on from your grandparents.”
Her voice was kind, but the words hit hard even as Libby recognized their merit. She nodded glumly.
Ian and Anna shared a look that made Libby wish her talent was mind reading rather than empathy. Wanting to change the subject, she turned to more practical matters.
“Jack said you can help me shield.”
“Yes, of course. We will need a whole day to begin with.” Anna pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Saturdays are good for me. Let me know when you want to start.”
“As soon as we can.” Libby decided that keeping people out of her head was possibly the most urgent technique that she needed to master.
“Next weekend, then?” Anna smiled.
“I’ll come up with more questions to pester you with by then.”
“Of course.” Anna reached for her hand, squeezed it reassuringly. “You are always welcome here, Libby. Anytime.”
The heartfelt declaration had her wondering. The fizz of excitement from Jack and Kelly’s mother was a little disconcerting, since she couldn’t work out what was so thrilling. She managed a smile.
“Thanks.”
Ian gave her some quick directions before she headed out to find Jackson. Once outside in the yard, Libby found herself at the top end of the stables. Curious now, she followed the small path around the back of the building. A couple of old barns stood back from the other structure, a little run down but tidily kept. Only one had the doors thrown open.
Jackson was crouched down beside an old motorbike, spanner in hand. As he worked she took in his broad shoulders, the muscles flexing under his shirt. The softening she felt had little to do with her resolve.
He turned to look at her and too late she remembered that he could hear her frank appraisal. Given their discussion not an hour earlier, she was painfully aware of how unfair this was to him. Despite the flush reddening her cheeks, she managed to hold his gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
He watched her for a moment, then sighed. He placed the tool he’d been holding on the bench and picked up a rag to wipe the oil from his hands.
“You’re sorry. What about?”
Libby took a step towards the bike, casting a curious gaze over the bones of it and wondering how he’d learned to turn this pile of metal into a working machine.
“This…thing between us.” It was easier, not looking at him. “I know what you said before. It was so nice, honestly.”
“But?”
“But this is not a good deal for you.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve never…” she shook her head in frustration as she tried to find the words to explain. “You know how little experience I have with guys. How the whole boyfriend thing isn't a priority for me.”
He laughed and she turned to face him, bewildered and more than a little annoyed. His expression checked her response. He wasn't amused.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He threw the rag down on the work bench with more force than necessary. “Explain how anything that you've heard this afternoon changes what we agreed earlier.”
“I don’t think it would be fair.” She didn’t know quite how she was managing to have this conversation without wanting the ground to swallow her up, but it was important to make herself clear. “I don't want to get involved with you. Beyond friendship, that is.”
“I’m not surprised,” he commented lightly. “You hardly know me.”
She watched him for a long moment, seeing the hardness of his eyes belie the casual tone. It was no easier for him, she understood that. And understanding made it easier.
“I’m sorry. I want…I want you around. You know, I was so sure we’d met before.” She laughed a little, running a hand through her hair in agitation. “It felt as though I recognized you. It was so strange. Even so…”
“Even so?”
Libby huffed out a breath. “I don’t want to lead you on.”
“That would be hard, given that I can read your mind.” He seemed annoyed and, conversely, that made her feel better. “Libby, I want to be with you. However you want that to be. I wish you could believe that.”
After a moment, she turned back to the bike.
“Who taught you this?”
“My grandfather.” If he was surprised by the turn in the conversation he didn’t show it. “He was a mechanic, and a patient teacher.”
S
he ran her hand over the seat, the rips and tears like scars across the leather. “How long will it take?”
He shrugged. She wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel it. “Another couple of months I guess.”
“Then you’ll sell it?”
“No.”
She did look up then, surprised by the forcefulness of his tone. “But you already have a bike.”
His lips tugged up on one side. “Then I’ll have two.”
“Fair enough.” She tapped her fingers on the seat. “Would you teach me to drive one of these?”
“No.” He moved away, picking up some engine part that she couldn’t name. “Absolutely not.”
Taken aback, she followed him across the barn to a shelving unit filled with what she assumed was old bike parts and boxes. “Why not?”
He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Firstly? Your dad would go nuts. Secondly, it’s not safe.”
Speechless, Libby could only stare as he hunkered down to root through a disorganized tool box.
“Not safe. You…you are joking?”
“No.” He straightened up and turned to face her. “There’s no way I’d let you ride a bike unless I’m driving it. And even then…it’s not ideal.”
Mouth open in shock, she struggled to voice a response.
“That’s…that’s…” She took a breath. “You’re completely sexist.”
“No, not really.” He shrugged. “I don’t have an issue with girls riding, just you. There’s no way in hell I’d let you risk yourself on a bike. Or in any other way, for that matter.”
“You’re crazy.” She crossed her arms belligerently. “And you’re not in any position to tell me what to do.”
“I realise that. But it won’t stop me trying.”
Libby didn’t bother arguing the point. There was no way in hell anyone was going to order her around, and from his sudden grin she gathered he was more than aware of the fact.
“Whatever. I have more questions.”
His eyes flashed in amusement. “Naturally.”
Talent Page 8