The reality of the situation hits me again. Every time I replay it in my mind, it’s the same. Marcus wanted Jared, not me. Harmony didn’t look vengeful, she looked hopeful. We’re silent for a stretch as I navigate us closer.
“I hear water,” she whispers. “And I know that smell.”
I smile even though she can’t see me. Of course, her bloodhound nose would give away the location.
“I still don’t want you to see until we’re there. Then you can explore until you keel over from exhaustion.”
“Nathaniel?” she asks.
“Yeah?”
“Are you saying Marcus took on Jared as an apprentice deliberately?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And you saw them right after it happened. They were getting along.”
“And he knew what was going to happen between the two of you?”
“I think so, Jules. And he’s happy about it.”
“No way,” she says in dismissal. “What about all the fighting and bullying?”
“He had to. Marcus would never go against the rules. But if you could have seen the look he gave me before leaving the memorial service. There’s no doubt. Marcus knew all along. I’ve thought about all of it. I think he wanted this to happen. He wanted to be the one to guide Jared if and when your brother took my place, and I think he’s okay with the two of us.”
“Wow. And I convinced myself he was a total a-hole.”
“He isn’t, and I know he’ll be good to Jared.”
“Thanks for telling me,” she says as we arrive and I stop walking.
Lowering her to her feet, I say, “Here’s your real surprise.”
I remove the bandana and let her see what I’ve been up to.
“Holy frijoles. Where are we?” she asks.
“My new abode,” I say with a huge grin. “And yours — anytime you want to come over.”
“Seriously?” she asks, and her voice rises.
Then all her questions come spilling out before I can answer the first.
She spins in a slow three-sixty as she tries to take it all in. “How, Nathaniel? I mean, did you buy this place? What about all these flowers, the waterfall, the fresh chopped woodpile? I know I’m smelling a hot spring somewhere nearby. And those lanterns – that color is not a natural blue. They’re magical, aren’t they? How did you make this happen? Are you responsible for the sunset, too?”
This last question comes out as more of an accusation and I can’t stop the laugh rising out of my belly.
“Slow down. We have all weekend,” I say and take her hand.
Layers of pastel rose and downy soft gray accentuate the polarized blue of the evening sky. I couldn’t have ordered a more perfect August sky for Juliana’s first visit to my new house.
“I’m renting it from Vivi. Well, sort of renting. I’m doing all the renovations in trade for a roof over my head.”
“The cabin is perfect. Rustic but cozy. Real log homes are so warm in the winter. It’s going to be spectacular surrounded with snow. And you planted flowers? They’re amazing. How come there are so many? You had to have started these months ago.” She bends down to smell the purple and blue flowers the names of which I can’t remember.
“You caught me,” I say as I watch how cheerful the flowers make her. “I know nothing about them except you like them. Vivi is the horticulturist, but I’m learning quickly at how to keep them alive. Magic can be a very useful tool in certain circumstances. The blue lights inside the lanterns are another little trick she taught me.”
She turns her green gaze on me and the spicy, mischievous twinkle is something I haven’t seen since long before the night at Red Rocks.
“So, you’re practicing magic now? Should I be worried that I’m being seduced by a wizard?”
“More like I should be worried that I’ve been abducted by an empathic fox.”
“Did you just turn this around on me?” she asks, acting playfully shocked.
“If the shoe fits, love.”
She slaps my chest and narrows her eyes. The calculating going on equally scares and thrills me. “Do you want to play in the waterfall or soak in the hot spring first?” I ask to tempt her away from whatever devious scheme she’s conjuring in that fast little mind of hers for my previous remark.
“I want a tour of your house,” she states, and moves to the front door.
“I fell in love the first time I saw it.” I stare at my one room log cabin.
Juliana stands at the entrance and doesn’t say anything, so I fill in the gaps.
“The only addition it has ever had since it was built is a bathroom. I added the solar panels and the battery bank to power the modern conveniences. Vivi and I ordered a wind generator which should be here next week. I thought you might appreciate those.”
I stare down at her and she’s speechless. Which is the opposite of how she was a minute ago outside, babbling excitedly. It makes me worry that I’ve screwed up, so I amend by saying, “If you ever stay here with me.”
She walks to the desk by the window and runs her fingertips across the smooth wood surface.
“I’m going back to school,” I announce. “I want to finish my degree. I guess, I’ll have to start over, but I’m all right with that. I thought I might need a desk to study at.”
She doesn’t turn around and I begin to imagine the worst. She hates my little house.
“Jules?”
She won’t look at me as she examines the woodstove and the small kitchen in the corner of the room. I also have a respectable couch, coffee table, television, and bookshelf — in hope of acquiring some books. Jules climbs three quarters of the way up the ladder to see the loft bedroom. I don’t own much, but Vivi let me have an antique dresser and a log bed frame from one of her guest rooms.
“It’s a start,” I say, as I begin to think she’s considering me to be one step above homelessness. “Vivi is paying me well even after she takes off the rent. The ranch always needs something repaired. And after I finish my degree, I can get a real job and a bigger place.”
“You’re not moving anywhere.” Juliana climbs down and moves to one of the large front windows. She turns to face me at last.
Deepening colors race across the sky and set a backdrop behind Juliana that has no rival. Cobalt, magenta, and silver highlight her silhouette, but the perfect lines of her face, the smooth curve of her neck and shoulder tighten the threads that are already laced around my heart. I wonder if my new heart could actually burst from love.
“Is it too cramped in here?” I swallow and notice my voice thickening with emotion as I stare at her.
“I don’t think so.” She walks up to me and intertwines her fingers with mine. She leads us across the room.
“I’ve dreamed of your house,” she tells me.
“Another vision?” I ask with concern, knowing how disturbed she gets from them.
“No. I’ve dreamt of this place since I was little. This is my dream house. A cabin in the woods with a view and a stream. A big soft bed and a warm fire. I even have a picture in my trunk that looks almost identical to your house. You’re living in my fantasy.”
“I have something to confess.”
Juliana turns her bright emerald eyes on me.
Heaven have mercy, I hope I’m not blowing this, but there always has to be honesty between us. “I saw the picture inside your trunk. I meant it when I said I wasn’t snooping that day when I was looking for your hair clip. But I did see the picture and I looked at it closely because it grabbed my attention like I knew the place. When Vivi mentioned an old cabin on her ranch and I saw it for the first time, I knew I had to live here. That it was meant for me. For you, actually. Your picture inspired the flower pots outside, but the inside is all my idea.”
One eyebrow rises as if considering my words. Her gaze shifts to the view through the window, the mountains, the sunset, the enormous trees growing by the water. I don’t know what she sees exactly, but I understand ho
w the sight can steal your thoughts without realizing they’re gone. I get her attention back by brushing my fingertips along her collarbone. Juliana releases my hand and she scrambles up the ladder to the loft.
“In my dream, I even have this same loft bedroom, overlooking the living room with a view of the trees and the sky.” She pauses and stares down at me.
I follow her upstairs.
She waits for me near the top of the ladder. “I was a little upset when I saw that you had looked through everything inside my trunk. It was a bad day, considering everything, but now my mind is blown away. This cabin is everything and more than I could ever imagine. It’s perfect. I’m glad you saw the picture because you’ve made this place perfect. Sometimes I almost believe everything falls into place exactly when it’s supposed to.”
I stop before her. “You can live here with me,” I offer as hope surges through me.
Her eyes and mouth soften, but she doesn’t reply. Instead, the sparkle returns to her eyes and she says, “Besides the cabin, do you want to know what else I’ve been dreaming and fantasizing about?”
I stay silent and nod, worried I’ll say the wrong thing and mess up the moment.
Her hands trail to my waist and she backs us up to the bed. “You,” she says with a shove.
We tumble together onto to the extraordinarily soft feather mattress and Juliana has her way with me at last. And don’t worry, I get to live out a few fantasies of my own.
Later. Much later, we snuggle together in the warm downy soft bed with Juliana’s head on my chest. She listens to my heartbeat and I savor the feeling of her silken body pressed against mine.
“The answer is yes,” she says.
“What was the question?” I ask sleepily and not likely to snap out of my jello-state of being any time soon.
“Yes, to everything.”
I hesitate only long enough to feel my heart skip a beat. “You mean living here with me?”
“Yep,” she says. “I love you, Nathaniel. I can’t imagine not spending my entire life with you.”
“So, we’re getting married, too,” I state.
“Eventually,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’d like to finish school first, but other than that, I want to be your wife.”
“What about magic, ghosts, crazy cousins named Star, angels, disapproving shaman, and everything else that come with this engagement?” I ask, reminding us both how messy life can be.
“You’re the only one I would do it with,” she says, and places her chin on my chest to stare up at me.
“Do it?” I ask, the insinuation cheesy but clear. “You want to do it again? Already?” The corners of my mouth quirk.
“Definitely,” she says with a smile. “I want a lot of it — with you — and everything else life brings our way.”
I inch down, seeking her perfect lips with my own.
Eternity or a kiss?
I chose a kiss.
~ Thank you for reading ~
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About the Author
Jody A. Kessler is a USA Today bestselling author. Her debut novel, Death Lies Between Us, book one in the An Angel Falls series, is the winner of the Readers’ Crown Award for Best Paranormal Romance. She writes contemporary romance, historical time travel fiction, and paranormal fiction. She is the author of the An Angel Falls series, Granite Lake Romance series, The Night Medicine and more.
When Jody isn’t navigating the terrain of her imagination and writing it down, she can be found exploring the wilderness of Colorado with her family, or in the kitchen baking cookies & brownies – and trying not to eat them all. She’s passionate about continuing to learn and reads anything and everything that catches her interest.
Jody A. Kessler invites you to stop by her website and see what’s new at www.JodyAKessler.com.
You can also connect with her on Facebook at Jody A. Kessler, or on Twitter @JodyAKessler.
Acknowledgements
To John and Nancy. My books would not exist without the two of you. I want to thank my family and friends for their continued support. Thank you to my beta readers and proofreaders—you know who you are. Lastly, I want to thank my readers. I appreciate every one of you.
Read a Free Preview of
The Misplaced
An Angel Falls Novella
Ghost hunting with Chris Abeyta
Chapter One
“RISE AND SHINE, porcupine.”
Chris cracked open sleep encrusted eyes. “Can I help you?” His throat rasped, and his body groaned, begging to return to sleep.
“I don’t know, but I definitely want to find out.”
The amount of perkiness in her voice made Chris cringe and wish he slept with earplugs.
“Come again?” He glanced at the clock on his dresser. Four-fourteen a.m. As an early riser, this should not have been quite such a shock to his system. But he went to bed late after a grueling night of spiritual cleansing, and an unexpected battle with a particularly spiteful ghost, at the local pool hall. Professional ghost hunter and shaman, Chris Abeyta, was dog-tired, bushed, and mentally unprepared for… anything that didn’t involve staring at the back of his eyelids.
Rolling over, he ignored his visitor. His exhausted mind and body deserved one full night’s rest. More like a year’s worth of sleep. He’d settle for eight hours. The soul residing within him, however, could not ignore the woman standing over the bed. A feminine and luminous quality, added to captivating eyes, taunted his sleep-addled brain. Perhaps he only imagined the halo of light surrounding her abundant hair. What color is her hair? Black? No, not black, burgundy? No, not that either. Darker than auburn, but not black. Damn. Thinking clearly on two hours of sleep is not happening.
“Yoo-hoo,” she sang.
The attention getter registered but didn’t make him turn over and face her.
“Not yet.” Chris didn’t know if the grumble was spoken aloud or not. He didn’t care. He needed to decipher the exact color of her hair. Why her eyes looked so painfully familiar. In his current state of bone-deep exhaustion these details seemed absolutely vital before abandoning the comfort of his mattress. Chestnut? Sable? A cross between the two. That's it. Blackened chestnut. There. He’d done it. Solved yet another mystery. Now, about those eyes. Brown? He thought so. He’d been so fixed on the waves of shiny blackened chestnut that her eye color didn’t stick. It might be the distraction of her eyebrows. Sculpted, sleek, and expressive. Yes, the eyebrows perfectly complimented the hair. Lips, nose, cheekbones. They accentuated each other on a sensual and attractive oval face. He hadn’t thought any female remarkably beautiful since meeting Juliana Crowson. Sure, he appreciated a feminine figure and a nice smile here or there, but no one ever stood out enough to garner a second look.
Chris liked bachelorhood. Not only liked it but preferred it. He and women were at odds. No. That wasn’t totally accurate. He and people, in general, were at odds. It was a choice he made daily, but in actuality more a genetic default or birth inheritance. When Chris Abeyta entered this world, Great Spirit took one look at him and declared, “This one. The chubby-cheeked vibrant son of Sherman White Wolf Abeyta will be gifted many powerful medicines to be used for healing. He will have clear vision and insights into the ghost worlds. He will use his gifts to help those who suffer, and assist others who need help finding the Good Red Road.”
Nowhere did Great Spirit mention people skills or a getting along with the human race. It showed. Chris could hardly stand being with himself, let alone anyone else. Particularly those who made life more challenging. So, pretty much everyone, in every conceivable way. He grew up as a solitary participant. He learned to become a shaman from
his father and made a few friends along the way. A father and friends he rarely ever saw. Keeping his distance benefitted everyone, especially him. He tolerated his clients only long enough to aid their spiritual needs. He would deal with a haunting, perform a ceremony, or do whatever else they needed from him. Most of the time, Chris just wanted to be left alone.
Juliana was the only friend he made since returning home from University — almost four years ago. If he could call her a friend. One friend every four years. The thought plagued him. Sixteen years from now, a handful of people would bother him on a regular basis. It’s time to cut someone loose, he thought.
It would not be Juliana. His apprentice needed more training. Somehow, Juliana Crowson managed to wedge herself into his life and obliterate his better judgment. She had intrigued him at first. Not just because of her looks and her half-Native bloodline, but also her natural abilities to see and hear the afterlife and its occupants. She had absolutely no inkling of what to do with her gifts. The danger she put herself in astounded Chris. He couldn’t stand by and let her be killed. She surely would have been if he hadn’t intervened. His lessons with Juliana on the afterlife progressed slowly, but steadily, and he was satisfied with her development. Last night, she proved again her willingness to be scared witless, yet do as instructed, to bring balance and harmony to the spirit world.
“Listen up, Sleeping Beauty. I understand the need to sleep it off. Believe me, I do. I’ve been hung-over a time or two myself, but there's no time for a morning cuddle and a long chat over coffee. Get up right now or I’m going to make you!”
He shoved all thoughts concerning Juliana aside. The mystery woman demanding his attention rose to the forefront. Chris groaned again, and the reverberation traveled through his body all the way down to his toes.
Last night should have gone a whole lot smoother. When he’d been in the attic above the pool hall, the spirit he’d been chasing led him straight to a section amidst the rafters that had no floorboards. Chris hadn’t seen it. He was too busy casting the varmint into the hereafter to pay attention to the missing floor. Falling and banging his shin on a joist had been unfortunate. Hitting his head on the rafters had just been humiliating, and painful. The impish ghost thought it rather hilarious.
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