Her Shadow

by Aimée Thurlo

  She started to reach for it, but then drew back her hand. He had few enough things, and this he could sell for food or gas. She wouldn’t take what little he had. “You don’t have to repay me. I was glad to be able to help.”

  “Don’t deny an old man the dignity of repaying a debt,” he said softly.

  Marlee knew all about the sentiment he was voicing. Pride was sometimes the only thing left to a person. She could not turn down the gift he offered. After all, this wasn’t like the artifacts he had carried. It was a new carving, not something with a history or curse attached. Surely there was no harm in accepting it.

  “If you think of it as magic, it may not seem quite so ordinary,” he said eagerly as she took it from his hands. “Let’s say it will give you one wish, if you wish really hard,” he added with a gentle smile.

  “Oh, but this isn’t ordinary at all,” Marlee protested. “It’s really a beautiful carving.”

  “Just remember that true magic always reaches an open heart.”

  His insistence on weaving a fairy tale just for her was touching. “I’ll treasure the gift always. Thank you.”

  “A debt has been paid,” he declared somberly.

  As Marlee walked out of the room, the raven carving grew warm in her palm. She studied it carefully, entranced by its lifelike quality. The bird’s eyes were so beautifully carved and hand rubbed that they appeared to glow with their own natural light. She placed the raven on the bookshelf in the living room, then as she walked toward the kitchen, she felt a gust of wind and heard a loud bang.

  Marlee hurried, knowing that the back door must have blown open. The catch was worn, and it sometimes came open when the front window wasn’t completely shut and the back door wasn’t locked. As she stepped into the kitchen, she saw she’d been right about the door. Marlee shut it and made sure it latched securely, then looked around for the cat. Winston was gone. So was the tuna and most of the pie that she’d left on the counter. The rest was on the floor.

  As she began to clean up the mess, she saw vehicle lights flashing through the window. Wondering if she was about to have company, she went out for a closer look and saw the peddler’s van backing out of her drive.

  Horrified, she stared at it for a stunned moment. Someone had stolen the old man’s vehicle; that was the only explanation. Marlee ran out into the street, but by the time she got there, the only vehicle within sight was the tail end of a pickup rounding the corner.

  Worried about how the old man would take the news, Marlee hurried back to the guest room, trying to think of a way to break it to him gently.

  She stood by the closed door for a minute gathering her composure, then knocked. There was no answer. Opening the door slightly, she looked inside. The bed had been made, and the peddler was gone. On top of the desk was a scrawled note with a one-word message, “Remember.”

  LUCAS SLAMMED HIS HAND down hard on the steering wheel as he headed back into town. His last call had been a wild-goose chase. Someone’s idiotic idea of a prank. He thought of Marlee, picked up the cellular phone, then set it back down on the seat beside him. She wouldn’t appreciate another call. She’d see it either as meddling, or maybe as proof that he didn’t trust her to take care of things on her own.

  He really liked Marlee, but her pride could be like an impregnable wall. Sometimes he just wanted to push past that, to force her into his arms, feel her softness against him, to know the taste of her. So far sanity had always prevailed and he’d reined in those urges, knowing the danger of indulging those crazy thoughts and feelings. He knew himself too well. The attraction he felt for Marlee was too strong to ignore, but hormones had a way of scrambling a man’s brain. The fact was he had his life exactly the way he wanted it. It had taken him years to get this point. He was finally satisfied to be himself, not Gabriel’s shadow. And he had stopped feeling guilty every time he lost his temper. Who cared if he couldn’t match his little brother’s self-control, either?

  As far as he was concerned, the middle kid had the worst of it. Fuzz had always known he’d follow in their dad’s footsteps, and Joshua had always known his heart was in the old ways. Lucas, on the other hand, hadn’t had a clue as to who he was or how he’d live his life until just a few years back, when he’d joined the military. He’d been a good warrior, but an even better medic. It was while serving as a corpsman that he’d discovered his talent. He was an excellent diagnostician, with an unerring gift for getting to the root of what was ailing a person physically or emotionally.

  After completing his enlistment, honing those skills, he’d returned to Four Winds, where he’d become a valuable asset to the town as the only full-time medical professional. At long last, he’d earned his place here alongside his brothers. He was an integral part of Four Winds by his own right now, and he had no intention of letting anyone or anything interfere with the duty he’d accepted.

  As Lucas pulled up in front of Marlee’s house, his truck backfired loudly. He cursed. One of these days, he was going to buy a truck that didn’t announce his presence with fireworks.

  Marlee pulled back the curtain, then came to the door. She wasn’t smiling, and as he left the truck, he wondered if she was going to read him the riot act for waking her and the neighborhood up at midnight. He had to admit she’d have a right to be mad. As he drew closer, stepping up to the front porch, he noted that she wasn’t dressed for bed. The expression on her face wasn’t anger or even annoyance. It was concern.

  “What happened?” he asked quickly.

  “The peddler left. I gave him something to eat, and he said he felt better so I left him alone to rest. But when I went to check on him later, he was gone.”

  Lucas wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or angry. “His temperature was above normal. I hope that he didn’t mistake the relief the aspirin gave him for actual health. His symptoms will undoubtedly persist for a few more days, if it was the flu.”

  “I wish he’d stayed, but I expect he’ll be okay. He’s used to taking care of himself. When you’re on the road, you get really good at that after a while,” Marlee said quietly.

  Lucas followed her inside, and dropped down on the living-room couch, surprised by the weariness he felt all of a sudden. “Were you, like Lanie, on the road awhile before you ended up here in Four Winds?”

  The question hadn’t been one he’d meant to pose out loud. He knew better. It was a violation of the code of Four Winds. Everyone’s past was his or her own.

  She shrugged. “Let’s just say I know that life-style very well. You’ve got to be tough to make it.”

  Her proud strength felt like a challenge to him. He stood, walked across the room and looked out the window, putting some physical distance between them. He needed to keep his thinking clear around Marlee. As he stared outside, he saw that only one star was visible at the moment. It peeked through a break in the cloud layer, bright against the gloom of night, but utterly alone.

  “Believe me when I tell you that I can’t imagine anyone freely choosing that peddler’s solitary life-style,” she said. “I wonder what he’s running from.”

  “Interesting choice of words,” Lucas commented, regarding Marlee intently as he returned to the couch. Marlee was physically close to him now, yet she couldn’t have been further out of his reach if she’d been in a separate galaxy.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think the peddler’s all bad. He honors his debts, and he cares about people in his own way. He knew I wouldn’t accept any of his wares, but he still insisted on repaying me, though he had no money.”

  Lucas sat up abruptly. “What did he give you?”

  She scowled at him. “Relax. I told you I wasn’t going to accept any of his antiques. Those always come with a history. This was just something he was making. It’s a little bird. A raven. It’s about the size of my thumb, but it’s very pretty. And it’s brand-new. He finished carving it here.” She went to the bookshelf and took it down.

  Lucas stared at the little carvin
g suspiciously. It looked new; Marlee was right about that. Maybe the gift had been an act of kindness from the peddler, and the object wasn’t cursed.

  “It’s okay. He really was just trying to repay me, not create more problems.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve heard similar stories before. It seems he’s always trying to repay someone’s kindness when he gives them a gift that throws their lives into chaos.”

  “Ease up. This is just something he was whittling. It’s perfectly harmless, unless you’re ready to believe that he’s some kind of supernatural being. And near as I can figure, supernatural beings don’t get the flu, do they?”

  “I still don’t trust him. There’s too much history between that man and Four Winds.”

  She held the fetish out to Lucas. “See for yourself. It’s harmless.”

  He took it from her hand, half expecting it to burn him the way the skinwalker bowl had done to Gabriel. Instead, the fetish felt completely ordinary, just a piece of wood.

  As he returned the carving to her, their fingers touched. He felt the shock of that contact all through him. There may not have been any heat coming from the fetish, but there was plenty of warmth in her touch. He forced himself to look at something other than Marlee as he put his thoughts back in order.

  Marlee moved away, replacing the carving on the shelf. “You look really tired. Since I don’t have any boarders right now, why don’t you just sleep here?” she asked. “I’ve got plenty of rooms.” A restless breeze blew through the half-opened front window, tossing a curl of her hair onto her cheek where the scar lay. She tugged her hair down, trying to cover the scar, and turned away from him.

  Lucas longed to touch her, to kiss away that aching self-consciousness. The scar did nothing to hide her beauty, though she couldn’t seem to recognize that, and would never have believed him had he told her. His gut knotted with the effort it was taking for him to stay away from her. Slowly one thought formed and became crystal clear in his mind. He couldn’t stay here tonight. To be separated from her by only one thin wall…he wouldn’t get any rest.

  Lucas came up with the first convincing excuse he could think of. “I need to get back and work on my grant requests. The first-aid station depends on the town and the state for funds, and I’ve got to make sure the paperwork is completed in time. If it’s not ready, I may not be able to get the funds to keep the place supplied.” It was the truth, though he certainly didn’t intend on working on all of those tonight. Still, though he’d given it his best shot, he knew he hadn’t sounded very convincing. He hoped Marlee would understand.

  She nodded, her neutral expression making it impossible for him to say if she was disappointed or not. It didn’t matter. He had to leave now, before he said or did something they’d both regret. He was tired, and that always made him less cautious.

  As he walked to the door, she picked up a feather duster she’d left on the end table. “You’re going to clean house now?” he asked, surprised.

  “I can’t sleep, so I might as well clean.” One of the feathers of the duster got stuck in the crack of a drawer that was slightly ajar. As she tugged it loose, something fell with a thump onto the floor.

  Marlee picked the object up and stared at it, eyebrows furrowed. “What the—?” Recognition flooded over her features, and she suddenly held a finger to her lips as she showed it to him.

  It took him a moment to realize that what she was showing him was a small microphone. Before he could stop her, she dropped it back onto the floor and stepped on it hard.

  He expelled his breath in a hiss. “I wish you hadn’t done that. My brother Gabriel might have been able to track the bug back to its owner.”

  She stared at the pieces on the floor. “You’re right. Sorry. My temper got the best of me. This is my home, and having someone do this to me…”

  Lucas rubbed his eyes, wishing he could will away the cobwebs around his brain. “Who do you think wanted to listen in on your conversations?”

  “Nobody’s been here recently except the peddler, and somehow I have real trouble believing he left that behind. I think we can rule you out, too,” she said with a thin smile, “and I certainly wouldn’t bug myself.” As she looked at him, her expression suddenly gentled. “Look at you, you’re practically dead on your feet. You really shouldn’t be driving anywhere right now. Take one of my guest rooms before you fall on your face.”

  Lucas hesitated. If someone had placed a listening device in her house, it was possible she was in danger. The way he felt right now, he expected he wouldn’t be much protection even if he stayed. He was so exhausted, a two-year-old’s punch would have probably knocked him out cold. Still, whoever had left that bug here wouldn’t know that, and he’d feel better knowing Marlee wouldn’t be alone in the house.

  “I do need some rest—you’re right about that. I have several calls to make tomorrow, and unless I get some sleep I’m going to be worse than useless.”

  “Then that’s that—you’ll stay. I’ll get a room ready and I’ll even stop cleaning. It’s time I got some rest, too.”

  “In the meantime, try to think back and pinpoint when someone could have-left that little microphone here.” As he followed her to a guest room down the hall, another thought struck him. “Assuming it wasn’t the peddler’s bug—and I, too, doubt that—whoever planted that bug knows by now that the peddler was here tonight. That may turn out to be a problem.”

  Marlee thought back to her last conversation with the peddler. No one would take that story about the wish seriously—if they’d even managed to overhear it in the first place. At least that was one thing she wouldn’t have to worry about.

  She placed fresh towels by the bed for Lucas and turned back the bedspread. “Get some sleep now. There’s nothing pending that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “Have you considered the possibility that wasn’t the only mike?” he asked.

  “Yes, but it still doesn’t matter now. It’s not like we’re going to be chatting up a storm in our sleep,” she answered.

  As she left the room, Lucas dropped down onto the bed. The room smelled like Marlee, of the meadow flowers she loved. That special touch she gave everything around her imbued even the air itself with the gentle power of her femininity. It was like her, an undeniable comforting presence that made no overpowering demands.

  He stood, unsnapped his jeans and stripped off his clothing. With one careless yank, he tossed back the covers and crawled into bed. As the gray mists welcomed him and he fell asleep, he felt Marlee’s presence enfolding him, offering him peace.

  Chapter Four

  Marlee was fixing breakfast in the kitchen when she heard Lucas start moving about. His footsteps had been welcome this morning. These past few months had been especially lonely for her. It was rare for her not to have at least one boarder, but since the end of summer nobody had come to stay.

  It was late fall now, and the house had begun to echo with a desolate emptiness that unsettled her. She really didn’t like living alone. She needed to feel needed. These long stretches of silence made her feel as if everything in her life were standing still in preparation for something that had yet to be defined.

  Marlee thought back to another lifetime, when her career had defined who and what she was. Her love for her work and her passion for life had been a circle she had thought could never be broken.

  Those days were gone now, and the present was all she had. She stroked the scar on her face absently, reminding herself of something she could not ever possibly forget even without that physical reminder.

  “Good morning,” Lucas greeted, heading directly for the coffeepot.

  The sight of him made a slow fire burn within her. His shirt was half-open, hanging loose over his jeans. He exuded an easy masculinity, a rumpled sexiness that only some men could carry off.

  “We need to talk,” he said, spooning some sugar into his mug.

  She placed two strawberry waffles on a plate for Lucas and poured more
batter into the waffle iron. “What about?”

  “We have to search for other hidden microphones, and we have to go talk to my brother and see if he has any ideas who’d want to bug your home or, for that matter, who’d even own a bug like the one you found in the first place. It’s not the sort of thing you can just pick up at Rosa’s in case you ever need one.”

  “There are no other listening devices here. I’ve already searched the house—well, all except the room you were using, which I’ll do while you eat.”

  “Let my brother and me help you look around some more. It can’t hurt.”

  Marlee stiffened, then forced herself to relax. “It’s not necessary.” Now, more than ever, she needed to firm up the emotional barrier between them. The incidents of the past day seemed to be tearing down the defenses that had kept each of them safe from an involvement neither was prepared to handle. But the effort to resist him was tearing her apart. She felt as if something heavy were slowly collapsing inside her.

  “You may be in danger. You can’t ignore this,” he insisted.

  “I’m not planning to.” She set down the waffles before him. “In fact, I’ve been thinking all night about who could have left that bug here, and why.” She sat down across from Lucas. “I know it hasn’t been here long. I clean the main rooms every day and I would have seen it. My guess is that it has been here less than twenty-four hours. I think someone must have seen the peddler arrive. They sneaked in and hid the bug to find out what was going on. I heard someone outside last night, and the back door flew open at one point. An intruder could have easily taken advantage of the high winds and the noise of the storm.”

  It was the only thing that made sense. Her past hadn’t caught up to her here, at least not yet. If it had, the signs would have been clearer and as inescapable as the darkness that descended each night.