Winter Magic

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Winter Magic Page 8

by Cheryl Pierson


  “Earlene, do you have a big bucket? You could fill it with dirt, with the tree in the center—that would keep it upright, or at least, help keep it moist.”

  “I know of one in the barn!” She ran out of the house, streaking for the barn like lightning.

  Angie laughed. “I haven’t seen her this excited in I don’t know how long, Brett. I’m glad I let her have the tree. It’s one of the good memories of the past—” She looked down, away from him, the smile fading.

  “We had one every year, when we travelled with the circus. Some of the performers were German, and it was their custom. It was so beautiful! We’d all decorate it, and then we’d have a wonderful Christmas feast—everyone bringing a different covered dish. So much food—all from different countries…and the tree, with all the paper decorations, and strings of berries—”

  Brett watched as the memories animated her expressions. Her voice was melodic, wistful but happy, as well. He knew these remembrances were special to her, as well as her little sister.

  “You haven’t had much time for stringin’ berries, takin’ care of me,” he murmured.

  Her head came up and she met his eyes. “Have you ever had a Christmas tree, Brett?”

  He shook his head, very slowly. “No. My mother died when I was young. And then, Pa lost the Double D on a bad hand of cards after he got likkered up. Shot himself when I was almost fourteen. My brother, Nick, tried to do what he could to keep me and Jake fed and clothed and sheltered, but…well, he was barely sixteen at the time, and Jake was a handful.” He gave a wry smile. “Kind of like Earlene, only about a hundred times worse.

  “His saving grace was his thirst for knowledge. When he made friends with one of the Cherokee boys, they invited him to live with them; go to the Moravian Mission school. Now, he’s smarter than me and Nick put together.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do if I was in your place,” Angie said quietly. “I’m so sorry, Brett—Earlie has put you in a bind. And I know you must be worried sick. But we’re going to figure a way out of this and keep Jake safe.”

  Brett sighed. “This can only end in death for someone, Ang. If Magdon lives through it, he’s still a threat to me and all I hold dear. I can’t let that happen. I can’t—let him live.”

  “He is pure evil.” Angie shuddered. “Just makes my skin crawl to think about him.”

  “Then, don’t, sweetheart.” Brett held out a hand to her and she came to him, kneeling on the floor beside him.

  “We’ve got to face him together, Brett.”

  Brett shook his head. “No. He doesn’t have to know you’re even still in this part of the country.”

  “Oh, he knows. He can feel it. He just hasn’t found us yet.”

  Before Brett had time to question Angie’s odd statement, she went on. “I’m tired of running. And hiding.” She moistened her lips. “What you said is true. This is no kind of life for me, or for Earlie. I don’t know where we’ll go or what’s next for us, but we can’t stay here, hiding from the world—and Teller Magdon—forever.”

  Angie leaned forward, and Brett’s heart clenched tight in his chest. Her words echoed in his mind, and the haunted expression in her eyes cut him. She’d thought she was doing the right thing for her sister, he could tell—and then he’d relieved her of that notion. He couldn’t blame himself, because he’d spoken the truth. But now, he could see, she was wondering what lay in store for her future?

  He closed his eyes as her lips skimmed his, and then, the pressure increased, and he opened his mouth for her.

  Her kiss was tentative, sweet, and yearning. Brett let his breath fill his lungs slowly. Her hand caressed his cheek. He raised his right arm and threaded his fingers through her shimmering mass of golden curls, remembering how her head had felt, resting on his shoulder, and the thoughts he’d had as she had snuggled her body close in to his.

  She lifted her mouth from his and he gave her a slow smile. “You tryin’ to bewitch me, Angie…or are you just practicin’ your kissin’ on me?”

  She smiled back, letting a finger toy with his hair. “Maybe it’s a little of both…I do need to practice…as you said.” Her smile faded, and she met his eyes. “But I do wish it was in my power to bewitch you completely, Brett Diamond.” Her teeth caught in her lower lip as if to keep the rest of what she wanted to say inside.

  Heat rushed through Brett’s body at her softly-spoken admission. He pulled her to him, a low groan escaping his chest as her lips met his one more.

  “Angie,” he whispered, her name like a prayer in his heart.

  She pulled away reluctantly, and Brett cursed himself for scaring her with his aggression. He was taken off guard when she spoke.

  “There’s things about me you—you don’t know. And you don’t ever want to find out, Brett.”

  “What’re you talkin’ about, Ang?”

  She shook her head. “There’s other reasons why Papa wanted us to leave the circus and live out here away from people.” She gave a short laugh. “I guess—maybe he thought he’d keep me and Earlie safe, but…he wanted to keep other people safe, too. From us.”

  Uneasiness settled over Brett. He didn’t want to hear any more. He wanted to hold on to his newfound dreams of what life might be like if he settled down with Angie Colton…and he had a feeling she was about to shatter all his illusions.

  “You asked if I was tryin’ to bewitch you, Brett. Truth is, I—could, if I wanted to.”

  Brett laughed outright at that bold statement. Angie was overcoming her uncertainty in leaps and bounds, for sure.

  “Why’s that, Ang? You a witch or somethin? The real deal?”

  She gave him a long look, remaining silent. The tension in the room stretched between them until Brett felt the air would shatter around them.

  “Yes, Brett. That’s what I am. The real deal.”

  ****

  Brett’s heart stopped, then thundered forward, echoing like a herd of runaway horses. Surely, he had not heard her correctly.

  “Did…you just say…you were a witch?” He hated to even voice the ridiculous question, certain he had misunderstood.

  She looked away quickly, as if she were sorry to have spoken the words aloud. “I’ve never said that to another person.”

  Brett swallowed hard. Ridiculous as it sounded, he couldn’t discount it, for some reason. When Angie looked up and met his gaze again, he knew he was lost to her.

  The look in her eyes was vulnerable, but all-knowing; sad, but relieved. This would all be coming to a head soon, one way or another—whether he believed her confession, or not.

  Rather than question her about her statement, he squeezed her hand gently. Her eyes widened in surprise at his silent confirmation of his belief.

  “What about Earlene? Is that why she’s so good with a gun?”

  Angie smiled. “No. That truly is a talent she has.” She leaned her head to one side. “Earlie doesn’t know everything yet, Brett; not about me or—or her own talents—not truly. It won’t be long, though, before she does understand it completely. I’m hoping she’ll be a little older when that happens—more mature.”

  Brett smiled. “How old were you? That must be a hell of a thing—to realize you’re different, in such a drastic way.” He reached out and caressed her arm, running his finger from shoulder to elbow.

  She nodded. “Very hard. Mama had many gifts. I believe she’d kept most of them secret—even from Papa. And though my father loved me and Earlie very much, he couldn’t help but be resentful of the way his life turned out.

  “My Aunt Zelda—Mama’s sister—travelled with the circus, too. She doesn’t even know where we are—Papa didn’t tell us until we were ready to leave, and we couldn’t tell anyone goodbye. Not even our relatives.”

  Brett gave a low whistle. “Your father must have been very afraid of Teller Magdon—and with damn good reason, Angie. Magdon…” He didn’t voice the rest of his thoughts. Angie was scared, as it was.

  Someth
ing she’d said niggled in his brain.

  “Relatives…you said. Who else besides your Aunt Zelda?”

  “My cousin.” She gave a wistful smile. “Lainie was like another sister.”

  Brett winced.

  That brought a laugh from Angie, and Brett was enchanted all over again.

  “She isn’t like Earlene at all, Brett. She’s my age. We were raised as sisters, practically, and I miss her more than I can say.” A shadow crossed her features. “I’m not sure a life in exile is worth it, if you have to spend it without your loved ones.”

  “Do you think your aunt and cousin are in any danger from him? Magdon—he’s ruthless.” He hesitated to say more. But he knew he didn’t have to. Angie’s fear was etched on her face, along with the realization that just by her very existence she had put others in danger.

  “Papa hoped by our leaving, it would spare—everyone.”

  “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  “I know.” Angie glanced away. “I’ve wondered, too.”

  “If you’re a witch, what keeps you from just casting a spell on Magdon? Make yourself invisible to him; or make him repulsed by you, or—”

  “It’s not that easy,” she answered. “Not in affairs of the heart—mine, or his, either. If he believes he’s in love—I can’t undo that, no matter how powerful a spell I cast.”

  Brett sat upright slowly, leaning against the pillows Angie had placed to brace his back on.

  “You said you could enchant me, bewitch me—”

  Angie blushed, walking to the front window to look out. “Here comes Earlie. We can talk more about this later.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Brett, I wouldn’t—truly do that to you. Oh, not because I couldn’t,” she was quick to say. “But, because I have—genuine feelings for you—and I want you to—”

  “Here it is!” Earlene burst through the door, then picked up the bucket filled with dirt and lugged it through.

  “Let me help,” Angie said, but Brett noticed her smile was forced, and there was a strain in her beautiful features that he hadn’t seen before. He wished she’d been able to finish her sentence.

  A witch. Did he believe her? He could see she wondered, too. He’d never held with superstitious mumbo jumbo, and he wasn’t sure he could do so now—even though, God help him, he wanted to believe what Angie told him. He wanted to trust her.

  Yet, she was either bat-ass crazy or—telling the truth. There was no middle ground. And either choice scared the holy hell out of him.

  Chapter 8

  Jake Diamond had been in worse situation, but he couldn’t recall just when that might have been. Sitting in a cold barn with his hands tied behind his back until he felt his arms would pull out of his shoulder sockets, hungry, dirty, and worried—all that would have been a relief, if that had been the end of it.

  It was bad enough to be the pawn for Teller Magdon to use against Brett…but now, there was someone else to think of, as well…Lainie Barrett.

  Magdon had brought her along for good measure, he said. Because, he had something else to see to once the robbery was over with.

  Lainie had told Jake the story of her cousins and uncle’s disappearing from the circus. At first, she’d believed Magdon and his gang had murdered them. She knew he’d been sweet on her cousin, Angie—if you could call anything about Magdon “sweet”.

  After Lainie’s aunt had fallen to her death and there was talk about Magdon having rigged it somehow, the rest of the family had disappeared in the dead of night, leaving no trace.

  Lainie still held out hope that they lived. One of the little people had whispered to her that he’d seen them leave of their own accord—and he thought it was best for the safety of everyone involved. But she’d been heartbroken that Angie hadn’t trusted her enough to say goodbye.

  As it turned out, Jake thought, it was a good thing Lainie didn’t know what had befallen her extended family. He would put nothing past Teller Magdon—even torturing a woman—to find out what he wanted to know.

  He glanced at where Lainie sat, a few feet away from him. She was watching him. As their eyes met, she gave him a faint smile.

  “So, have you figured out how we’re gonna escape yet, Miss Barrett?”

  “Lainie. And, no. It’s my mother who is the escape artist in our troupe.”

  “What do you do? I mean, in the circus act?”

  She shook her head and glanced down. “I’m afraid I wasn’t of much use in the circus world. My aunt was a wonderful trapeze performer. My cousin, Earlene, was a crack shot. Even as a little thing, she had a natural talent for shooting. She got better and better as she got older—and she loved it.”

  “And your cousin, Angie? What about her?”

  “Angie has many talents.” She smiled in remembrance. “One thing that’s handy—” she broke off, glancing around their prison to see where the guards were. The two men lounged near the front of the barn by the door, sharing a smoke. Lainie relaxed and turned back to Jake, moving closer.

  “Angie is a—a safecracker.”

  Jake’s head shot up, his eyes meeting hers. “You didn’t think that might be something you should’ve told me before?” He tried to keep his voice low. “Christ, Lainie!”

  “I know—” Dismay filled her face. “I should have—but I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

  “I’m a prisoner as much as you! How could I be part of the—” He stopped and nodded. “I see. You thought I was a plant.”

  She looked guilty, and had the good grace to blush, he thought.

  “Well, when they beat the living daylights out of you yesterday for the sport of it, I decided you weren’t. A plant, I mean…”

  In spite of himself, Jake had to laugh at the contrite sincerity in her tone.

  “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  He would have hugged her if his arms were free. “It’s all right,” he said. “I guess it pays to be cautious. Especially if you’re a woman.”

  “She has a lot of other talents, too,” Lainie said, seeming eager to get back to the conversation about her cousin. “It’s no secret, really—that she’s a safecracker. That was part of her billing in the acts—she was a safecracker and a pickpocket. So anyone who ever came to the circus would have known that. Even Teller Magdon. Which…” She shivered, wrapping her arms around her body. “That’s possibly one reason he fancied her.”

  Jake let her talk. His head pounded still from the drubbing the two louts at the front of the barn had given him yesterday to satisfy their boredom.

  “She—and Earlie—followed in Aunt Rina’s and Mama’s footsteps—but I didn’t get the—um—gifts.”

  “What gifts?”

  “Well, Mama and Aunt Rina were able to do…magical things.”

  Jake laughed softly. “It was a circus—”

  “No. I mean—real magic. They’re…witches.”

  Jake let this news soak in. She believed it. Whether it was true or not, Lainie thought it was.

  “And Angie—she could do all kinds of things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Healing, for one thing.” Lainie reached to push his hair away from the cut on his forehead. “I wish I had that gift right now,” she said softly.

  Jake’s heart thumped hard against his breastbone at her touch. Her eyes held his and something passed between them—he wasn’t certain of it, but he felt an emotion he couldn’t name stirring inside. How could something be painful and so damn delicious all at the same time?

  And Lainie was delicious. He’d been fighting his attraction to her ever since he’d laid eyes on her four days past.

  Magdon’s boys had brought her in as a “present” for their leader—and earned nothing but scorn for their efforts. Still, Magdon hadn’t released Lainie.

  Jake couldn’t help but wonder why—or what he had in store for her once this was all over.

  Jake moistened his dry lips at Lainie’s gentle touch. He’d die before he let anything happen to her.
With hair the color of burnished copper, and eyes of fathomless blue, she was as beautiful as she was kind, generous, and—he hoped—caring.

  “Angie knows all the old ways. She’s what we’d call a ‘reiver’ in the old country—a border gypsy who can steal your wallet as quick as your heart.”

  “I think you might have that talent, too, Lainie.” The words were out before he could stop them.

  She blushed, and sank her teeth into her lower lip. “I’d steal your heart straight away if I could, Jake Diamond. But—no—I don’t believe that’s a particular talent I possess.”

  Jake smiled. It hurt. His mouth was still sore from the blows he’d taken yesterday. “I think mine’s already left me, Lainie. You’ll have it to add to your collection.”

  She gasped and put her hand to her chest. “Oh, Jake, you mustn’t say such things if you don’t mean them. When this is over—if things end well, we will have to be accountable for these things we speak.” She stopped, looking away quickly. “I don’t want to be made a fool of.”

  “Look at me, Lainie.” Jake silently cursed his tied wrists. When she lifted her gaze to his again, Jake felt as if he were drowning in the blue depths.

  “I’d never do that to you. Trust me.”

  She nodded after a moment. “I do.”

  “Brett will come for me. I know they don’t intend to let us live once he does what they ask.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “My brother will come. And Magdon will be bound to kill him, once he cracks the safe. He’ll kill me as well, and—and you, sweet Lainie. We’ve just got to ensure that won’t happen. And right now, I’m wishing you did have some of that witches’ blood running in your veins. We can use all the help we can get.” This last was muttered on a sigh as Teller Magdon came through the door, heading in their direction.

  “Change of plans,” Magdon said shortly as he passed the guards. “Pack up. We’re heading out.”

 

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