That Carrington Magic (CupidKey)

by Karen Rigley

  The boy nodded. “I’m a Zonar soldier, and it’s my job to fix things.”

  “What are you fixing?” Grant asked, wiping the excess rubbing alcohol off Cupid and replacing the brooch in the drawer as the boy bounced into the room.

  “Just things. My mom’s in the tub,” Toby announced, halting a few feet away from Grant and watching him closely.

  “So she doesn’t know you’re in here?”

  “Nope. She’d probably get grumpy.”

  “Then maybe you’d better go,” Grant replied, wondering why Jami’s opinion wounded him so much.

  “We need to have a guy-to-guy talk.” Toby held his ground, fists clenched at his sides as he stared up at Grant.

  “What about?” Grant asked, intrigued.

  “I want you to marry my mom.”

  “You what?” Grant shook his head to clear it. He must be hearing things. Maybe his ears were still clogged with water.

  “Sierra told my mom that you were Mr. Right and that Mr. Right would make her happy. Mom’s real sad, right now. I want her to be happy.”

  “Your mom doesn’t want to marry me,” Grant said, pain stabbing his heart the way Cupid tended to stab his palm.

  “Mom says you don’t want to marry her.” The boy shot a knowing glance up at the man. “Is it because of me? Because I’m so naughty?”

  “No way, Toby. We’re partners, right?” Grant patted Toby’s head. “I can’t marry your mom, because she doesn’t want to marry me.”

  “Maybe you and Mom could have another dress-up dinner together? I think she liked that,” Toby offered, stuffing his hands in his pockets and teetering toe to heel and heel to toe in his sneakers.

  “She won’t have dinner with me. She’ll hardly speak to me.”

  Toby walked over to pat Grant on the forearm. “Don’t worry. I’ll come up with a plan. In Zonar Galaxy we always come up with a plan.”

  “Thanks, partner,” Grant replied, touched by the child. “I thought you didn’t want your mom to get married again.”

  “A guy can change his mind, can’t he?” Toby asked sheepishly, flashing that lopsided grin at Grant. “Even a guy like me.”

  “A smart guy like you,” Grant corrected, kneeling to give Toby a bear hug.

  “Toby!” Jami called from the inner bathroom. “Will you hand me my lotion? It’s on the dresser.”

  “Oh, oh!” Toby’s brown eyes grew to saucers. “I better go, or we’ll both be in trouble.”

  “Yes, sir.” Grant chuckled and saluted Toby, who snapped his heels together and saluted Grant back, before dashing into the bedroom and pulling the door shut.

  Grant was nowhere in sight when Jami and Toby went downstairs to supper, nor was he at the dining room table with the other lodge guests. Jami told herself that she was glad as she and Toby took seats across from Dottie, Doris, and the professor.

  “Glad you found your son,” Professor Tolaski stated as he lightly buttered and peppered his steaming white and yellow corn-on-the-cob.

  “Me, too,” Jami replied, piercing the crust of her wonderful smelling turkey potpie as peas, carrots, and gravy burst through the pastry, wishing she had the appetite to do justice to the dish. “I appreciate everyone’s help in the search.”

  “I wasn’t lost,” Toby objected, slathering butter on his own corn. “I knew where I was all the time.”

  “We didn’t,” Dottie said, a schoolteacher scold marring her usually cheerful expression. “You had your mother terrified, young man.”

  “Grant was very worried as well.” Doris wagged her finger at the child. “You turned this lodge upside-down.”

  “Does that mean I’ve got to apologize to everybody again?” Toby asked, reluctance apparent in both his face and voice.

  “Yes.” Despite her own pain, Jami smiled affectionately at her little boy, noting that he already had butter and corn smeared ear to ear. “You’re getting pretty good at apologies.”

  “I guess so.” He glanced around the table, his brown eyes wide. “I’m sorry everybody. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

  “Apology accepted, Toby,” Professor Tolaski said with a smile, corn kernels caught in his beard as he peered over his thick glasses.

  “Next time tell someone where you’re going,” Dottie admonished, using her fork to mash her potpie into unidentifiable mush.

  “You’d be welcome to accompany my sister and me on a nature hike, Toby,” Doris offered kindly. “Then you won’t get bored or into more trouble.”

  “Thanks,” Toby said, taking a swig of his milk. As he replaced his glass, Jami noticed a white milk moustache above his lip.

  “After supper, we’re going to look for the emerald cuckoo we spotted earlier in the woods.” Doris smiled, creasing the dimple lines in her plump face. “Would you care to join us?”

  “Emerald cuckoo?” the professor boomed. “That’s an African bird! You certainly didn’t see one here in the Rockies!”

  “We did.” Dottie pressed her lips together as she exchanged a glance with her sister. “It was green with a yellow belly and definitely a cuckoo.”

  “Maybe the emerald cuckoo flies a migration path through here that you’re not aware of, Professor,” Doris suggested, obviously not about to change their story.

  Shoving his eyeglasses higher upon the bridge of his nose, Professor Tolaski scowled from one sister to the other. “Not on this continent.”

  “Green with a yellow tummy?” Toby mused, stuffing a chunk of turkey into his mouth. “I saw a bird like that today.”

  Professor Tolaski harrumphed and shook his head. His brow furrowed in disgust as he scoffed, “Not an emerald cuckoo.”

  “Toby, can you show us where you saw it?” Dottie eagerly asked.

  “Can I, Mom?” The child turned to his mother. “Please?”

  “Well...” Jami glanced from her son to the retired schoolteacher sisters.

  “We know it’s late, but we’ll have him back by dark,” Doris assured Jami.

  “Mom?” Toby coaxed, his face alight with excitement. “I’ll be so good. I really, really will.”

  “Okay,” Jami slowly agreed. She hated to let her child out of her sight after losing him twice in one day, but they’d be checking out tomorrow. This was an opportunity Toby wouldn’t get again. “I’ll be upstairs packing.”

  “Packing?” Dottie repeated, sounding alarmed. “Are you leaving us?”

  “Toby and I head home in the morning,” Jami answered with artificial cheerfulness and a strained smile.

  “What about Grant?” Professor Tolaski asked, crumbs from the potpie crust drifting from his beard as he talked.

  “Ask Grant.” Jami concentrated on finishing her dinner, though everything tasted like sawdust. Pretending she didn’t care about Grant Carrington proved difficult. Their vacation was ending. Their relationship already had ended—so much for CupidKey finding her perfect match. Jami tightened her resolve as she pushed away from the table. Mr. Right had turned out to be Mr. Wrong.

  Having escaped the scrutiny of her dinner companions, Jami was upstairs in the bedroom packing their bags when she heard a commotion in the hallway. She ran through the suite and threw open the door as Toby’s footsteps thundered toward her.

  He came racing down the corridor, hollering, “Mom! Mom!”

  A door across the hall whipped open, and Raven McGuire stepped out. “What’s wrong? A fire? What?”

  Raven wore a towel to cover the neck of a silver cocktail dress, her black hair stood out in ratted clumps, and her face was devoid of make-up. Her lips were nearly as pale as her alabaster skin, making her blood-red nails the only color she wore.

  “A witch!” Toby cried, screeching to a halt in front of the young widow. “I knew you were a witch.” Acting frightened as a kitten being chased by a werewolf, the child backed away, then scooted toward Jami. “See her eyes, Mom. She is a witch!”

  “Oh, drat,” Raven gasped, one hand flying to her hair, the other to her eyes. “M
y contacts! Where’s the other lens?”

  “I’m sorry.” Jami gasped, unable to ignore Raven’s one startling violet eye and the other natural gray eye.

  “Is there a fire or something?” Raven snapped, stepping back through her own doorway.

  “Is there?” Jami shot a questioning glance at Toby, while dragging her frozen son into the suite.

  “Nope.” He stared, hypnotized by the widow’s Halloween appearance.

  “You rotten monster,” Raven huffed, slamming her door.

  The moment Raven’s door closed, Toby whirled around to face Jami. “Mom, you’ve got to help Grant! A bear attacked him. A big bear! Come quick!” Toby broke into a run, heading back down the corridor.

  “Where?” Jami called as she wasted no time catching up to her son. “When? Is Grant hurt?”

  Toby slowed slightly, panting. “Grant’s at the place where he made my boat. He was making another one when a grizzly attacked him. Hurry!”

  “You call for help and get the others,” Jami instructed her son, delaying to take hold of Toby’s shoulders. “I’ll find Grant on my own.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Get help.”

  Jami dashed downstairs and through the lodge, wishing she’d thought to ask Toby more questions. Was the bear still attacking Grant? How badly was he wounded? And where were Dottie and Doris?

  Outside, the world appeared serene and peaceful, warring with the panic driving Jami. Slanting sunshine and lengthening evening shadows sculpted the mountainside, majestic blue spruce and lodgepole pines towered over breeze-ruffled aspens and scrub oaks. Wallflowers and pine scented the crisp thin air as a chorus of crickets and songbirds mocked the threat of danger.

  Filled with urgency, Jami hit the trail in a run, pausing only long enough to snag a heavy branch from the ground and grab two rocks. Maybe not the best weapons against an angry bear, but something.

  Racing to Grant’s rescue, Jami realized how deeply it shook her that he was in danger. Her heart had told her to trust him, but she’d been too stubborn. Didn’t she owe Grant the chance to prove that he wasn’t the womanizer she believed? He had to be safe! She loved the man. She couldn’t lose him.

  Silently praying for his protection, Jami admitted to herself that Grant was the only man for her. She couldn’t envision a future without him. And she would not hesitate to face a crazed grizzly to save him.

  She stumbled over a brittle root, snapping it in half. Noise. Jami remembered that wild animals were often frightened off by loud noises. If that bear was still around, it would hear some screaming, she guaranteed it.

  As Jami approached the lake, she saw Grant sitting on a boulder with his back to her and his head in his hands. He was alive! Her heart burst into song and she nearly did, too. But what if he was still under attack and not moving on purpose? Jami’s gaze darted back and forth, fear bubbling through her.

  Where was that bear?

  Jami charged down the trail, brandishing her stick and whooping bloody murder so loud it hurt her own ears.

  A knife and wood chunk plopped onto the ground as Grant leapt off the boulder, spinning around to face Jami. “Whoa, Red!” His arm whipped upward to ward off a blow. “Don’t hit me!”

  Skidding to a stop, Jami’s mouth dropped open. She gradually absorbed his words and lowered the branch. “You don’t have a scratch on you.”

  “Not yet.” He eyed her stick, his glance slipping to the rocks clutched in her other hand. “What did I do to tick you off so badly?”

  Jami felt a blush fire her cheeks. Was this another Toby scam? “Where’s the bear?” she asked, suspecting the answer.

  “What bear?”

  “Toby said a grizzly attacked you and that you were hurt,” Jami stammered, feeling foolish. As if a bear would dare attack Grant Carrington.

  “You were coming to my rescue?” Grant asked, wonder in his midnight blue eyes as he gazed at her. “You’d brave an attack from a wild animal to save me?”

  They stood mutely staring at each other, Jami unable to deny the love and concern blazing in Grant’s face. He held open his arms. She ran to him and he caught her in his embrace, swinging her like a rag doll locked against his heart.

  “You do care,” Grant whispered into her hair, sending a thrill through her entire body. “Oh, Red, you’re the only woman for me.”

  “I am?” Jami echoed, her heart recognizing his sincerity.

  A plastic arrow zinged above their heads.

  Toby! Jami swung around. Where was that stinker?

  “Is this your doing, slugger?” Grant asked in a mock-stern tone.

  She squinted and located her son at the bend of the trail, holding his bow. He stood between Dottie and Doris.

  “Yes, sir,” Toby replied, snapping a salute.

  “Good job,” Doris chirped, patting Toby’s head. “You’re a regular Cupid, young man.”

  Dottie winked down at Toby. The three of them wore silly grins as they watched Grant laugh and retrieve the toy arrow.

  “Just like when we met,” Grant chuckled, tossing the arrow back to Toby.

  “Not quite,” Jami corrected, pulling Grant’s head down for a sizzling kiss as the trio of conspirators disappeared into the woods.

  Grant hugged Jami so close she could hear the laughter rumble in his chest and the steady beating of his heart. “Your son is proving to be almost as amazing as his beautiful mother. Toby told me you loved me, but I didn’t believe the rascal.”

  “Toby planned this?” Jami stared up at Grant, her head in a wild spin.

  “Apparently.” Grant traced Jami’s lips with the pad of his thumb, sending a flurry of sparks to mark the path. “And he told me that you want to marry me.”

  “Toby did?” Jami squeaked, a shiver running up her spine as Grant’s hands now stroked her throat and back.

  “Was he wrong?” Grant demanded, his gaze locked with hers.

  “I claim the Fifth.” Jami pressed her lips together, striving to regain some dignity. Grant’s fingers danced along her jaw line to circle the sensitized area around her ear.

  “Trail rule number six—always tell the truth.” Grant’s voice dropped to rough velvet as he pulled her tighter against him until she could feel his rising desire. “Jami Rhodes, do you love me?”

  “Do you love me?” she shot back.

  “I’m crazy about you,” Grant replied, nibbling at her ear lobe, until Jami felt quite crazed herself. “I adore you. I crave you.” He skimmed his hot lips over hers. “Yes, dammit, I love you!”

  “You do?” Jami asked, stunned. “But what about all the other women?”

  “From the moment your son struck me with a toy arrow, and I looked up to see that copper-haired angel mom of his, there’s been no other woman.” Grant smiled his heart-stopping smile and gazed lovingly into her face. “You’re the only woman for me, Red.”

  “What about the woman you left at the altar?” Jami wanted to believe him, but suspicions haunted her. Jami searched his gaze, a tight knot forming in the pit of her stomach. “I overheard your phone call.”

  “What?” Grant rubbed his chin, before light suddenly dawned in his eyes. “My mother! That was my mother asking if we had set a wedding date.”

  “We?” Jami asked, her voice a croak. “Like in you and me?”

  “That’s the we all right.” He laughed, then cradled her close. “Ouch!” Suddenly he let go of her and reached into his pocket. “What the...? How did Cupid get here?”

  Jami watched Grant pull his grandmother’s gold brooch out of his jeans pocket. He reared his head back and started to laugh so hard that she found herself laughing with him. All the tension and worry drained out of her as her giggles merged with his deep chuckles until tears rolled down her cheeks and she hiccupped.

  “Cupid’s magic,” Grant finally gasped, still holding the brooch. “Cupid made you love me.”

  “You made me love you,” Jami huskily corrected, sliding a hand behind Grant’s head
to lower his face to hers. Somehow their antagonism had changed to concern, their attraction to love. Deep within her heart, she accepted that he loved her and offered her the chance to prove she was truly the only woman for him.

  “We can’t live without each other,” Grant murmured against her lips.

  “We might not be able to live with each other, either,” Jami replied, savoring his warm minty breath and his spicy male scent as their mouths hovered inches apart.

  “I’m willing to try if you are.”

  “Is that a proposal?”

  “With Cupid as my witness, Red.” Grant abruptly released her and dropped to the ground on his knees, clasping her hands in his.

  “Ouch!” She pulled her left hand back. “Cupid stabbed me.”

  “That mischievous devil has a lot in common with Toby.” Grant jammed the brooch back into his pocket and took Jami’s hands again, this time placing a tender kiss upon her knuckles. “Jami Rhodes, will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” Jami whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks again, this time from the joy bursting inside her. Grant Carrington was Mr. Right!

  Grant reverently drew Jami into his arms. The woman of his dreams had agreed to marry him! He’d never felt such happiness. With Jami cradled against his heart, he felt complete; the missing part of his life no longer haunting him, the loneliness vanished. Jami wanted to be his wife, and her precocious son wanted him for a daddy. Brushing away suspicious moisture in his own eyes, Grant held Jami close, giving thanks he now had the family he realized he’d always wanted.

  Through his pocket, Grant felt a tiny stab and grinned. Cupid had scored another successful love match—this time with a little help from Toby the Terror.

  EPILOGUE

  The Carrington/Rhodes wedding party gathered in a meadow nestled among gold-torched quaking aspen, scarlet-leafed bushes and towering blue spruce evergreens, all encircled by the autumn-splashing Rocky Mountains.

  Grant stood by Grandmother Margaret, watching fondly as his mother, Shirley, pinned the gold antique brooch onto the bodice of Jami’s ivory satin-and-lace wedding dress.

  “It’s appropriate that you wear Cupid for the ceremony,” Shirley decreed, pressing a perfumed kiss upon Jami’s cheek. “The heirloom belongs with you and Grant now, then one day it will be time to pass it down to Toby and his future Carrington cousins.” She paused, tapping her lips with a long tapered nail as her smile grew mysterious. “Or perhaps Cupid will visit another branch of the Carrington clan?”