Spellbound Falls

by Janet Chapman

  Sophie pulled away with a gasp. “Oh no, I forgot!” she said, running to the door and flinging it open. “I’m coming, Henry! I just need to put on my mud boots!”

  Olivia walked to the door and looked out to find the boy standing at the gate, his hands in his pockets as he stared toward the house. She grabbed Sophie by the sleeve. “Has he been standing out there this whole time?”

  Sophie nodded.

  “But why didn’t he come in with you? You don’t just leave your friend standing outside waiting for you and then forget him.”

  “I told him to come in with me, but he said he’s not supposed to ‘enter our sacred domain’ unless he and his dad are coming to get us for a date.”

  “Good morning, Miss Olivia,” Henry called from the fence, waving hugely. “My dad told me you and he had a wonderful time last night.”

  It was all Olivia could do not to fall to her knees. Oh God, how many times had she been Henry: standing on the outside, not feeling welcome in someone else’s sacred domain? “Henry, come here,” she said, waving him over as she stepped onto her stoop in her bare feet. And then she did drop to her knees when he reached her and took hold of his shoulders. “Honey, it’s okay for you to come to the house. That gate is for Inglenook’s regular campers, not you.”

  He looked skeptical. “Maybe I should check with my dad first, as he said it was only okay last night because of your date.”

  “Not going beyond the gate isn’t your father’s rule, it’s mine. Which means I’m the one who decides who crosses the fence and who doesn’t. And you are always welcome in my home. Always,” she repeated as she pulled him into her arms. “You belong here just as much as I do.” She leaned away with a loud, exaggerated sigh. “And I suppose your father can cross the fence, too, because I like him almost as much as I like you.”

  Henry’s eyes widened. “You do?” But then those vivid green eyes suddenly took on a calculated gleam—not unlike the way his father’s did sometimes. “Do you like him enough to go out with him again? Because you’re obviously brave, seeing as how you said yes the first time.”

  Having a pretty good idea where this was heading, Olivia sat down, figuring she’d better set the kid straight before he decided he’d just found a replacement for Godzilla. “Sophie, go change into your barn clothes, would you?”

  As soon as her daughter disappeared down the hall, Olivia took both of Henry’s hands in hers. “Looking for a husband or wife isn’t the only reason people go on dates, Henry. Sometime a man and woman simply enjoy each other’s company, and go out to dinner as friends.”

  He looked so crestfallen that Olivia couldn’t stop from pulling him into her arms again. “Ah, honey, you leave finding a wife up to your father, okay?” She gave him a squeeze. “I promise he won’t marry a woman who doesn’t love you, too. Trust your daddy, Henry; he’s big and strong and brave enough to stand up to your grandfather.”

  Henry hugged her back just as fiercely. “But what if the woman only pretends to like me?” he asked thickly. “W-what if she wants to marry us just because my dad’s rich and powerful, and she… and she tricks him into thinking she likes little boys and animals and the ocean?”

  Olivia leaned away to frown at him. “Hasn’t your father been teaching you how to feel what you can’t see and hear?”

  He swiped at the moisture gathered in his eyes and nodded.

  “Well then, don’t you think he would immediately realize what she was doing?”

  “But why can’t you just fall in love with him?” he blurted out, throwing himself against her and wrapping his arms around her neck. “Because I really, really like you, Miss Olivia. And my dad does, too. I know he does.”

  “Henry,” she whispered past the lump in her throat, trying to gently pull him away.

  His arms tightened around her. “And you and Sophie could move to Midnight Bay with us, because I just know you’ll like the ocean. And we could build a fire pit in the back and have cookouts and make s’mores all the time.”

  His tiny body was shaking so badly that Olivia also started shaking.

  “I promise, I won’t ever whine or pout and I’ll do everything you tell me to.”

  Oh God, what a mess. “Shhh, honey.” She stopped trying to move him away and simply hugged him. “Please don’t get all worked up over this, Henry. You have my word: Your daddy’s not going to marry anyone who doesn’t love you as much as he does.” She gave a forced laugh as she patted his back. “And I know your auntie Caro will certainly have something to say about who he marries.” She leaned away enough for him to see her smile. “She’s not letting him change your first name, is she?”

  Henry sucked in a deep breath, trying to get control of his sobs. “Sh-she said hell would freeze over first, only I don’t think that’s possible because Hades is in charge of hell. He’s Zeus and Poseidon’s brother, and that means he’s powerful enough to keep the fires burning so bright the ice would just melt.”

  Wonderful; another dastardly god for the boy to look up to. Olivia cupped his cheeks in her hands. “That’s why Carolina said what she did, to tell you it’s never going to happen. What I’m trying to point out is that you have me and your auntie Caro to make sure your dad doesn’t fall in love with the wrong woman.”

  Henry’s eyes widened. “Oh no, he doesn’t intend to love his wife; he only needs to like her enough to get married before Grampy forces us to marry Gadzalina.”

  “Ah, I see,” Olivia said with a nod, afraid she did see. God, she hoped Mac didn’t suddenly decide she would make a good replacement for Godzilla.

  “Miss Olivia.”

  She gasped. What if that’s why he’d tried so hard to impress her with the expensive cabin and… and all-night sex marathon?

  “Miss Olivia.”

  Oh God, what if last night had been an audition?

  She stood up, looking toward cabin ten. “Where’s your father now, Henry?”

  “He and Auntie went for a walk around Whisper Lake. Miss Olivia,” he said, tugging on her pajama sleeve only to take a step back when she looked down at him.

  Olivia quickly turned her glare to a smile.

  “I was going to ask if… um, never mind,” he said, taking another step back when Sophie came barreling out of the house.

  “Come on, Henry,” the girl said as she continued past them at a run. “Let’s go see if Mr. Sam will let us brush our horses.”

  Henry started after her, but stopped and turned back to Olivia. “You won’t tell Dad that I cried, will you?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with having a good cry once in a while, Henry,” she said, considering she had every intention of making Mac cry the very first chance she got. He might have been taking casting calls on the couch for the role of Mrs. Oceanus, but she hadn’t been auditioning for anything but a temporary lover. “Don’t worry; I won’t say anything to him. What was it you wanted to ask me?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was going to ask if you think I need to wear pajamas to bed. Because last night Auntie got all upset when I just stripped off and crawled under the covers.” He made a disgusted face. “She made me wear one of her shirts and my underpants because I don’t own any pajamas. Well, I used to have pajamas because Miss Maddy bought me some with Sesame Street puppets on them, but Dad left them in Midnight Bay because he said men are born naked and we’re supposed to sleep naked. He says our bodies need to breathe at night.” He took a step toward her. “Dad told me to ask my mama if it was okay, because he said she didn’t mind when he slept naked with her. So I asked, and my heart told me Mama said that if I’m old enough for sword lessons then I’m too old to wear bedclothes like a baby.”

  How… wonderful.

  Henry suddenly ran up to her, his face having gone as pale as new snow. “I meant music lessons, Miss Olivia, not sword lessons. Okay? Music lessons.”

  “Okay, Henry.”

  He squinted up at her, color springing back into his cheeks. “So, do you thi
nk I need to wear pajamas?” He touched her sleeve. “I can see that you do. And Sophie wore some last night.” He frowned when Olivia sat down on the stoop again as she wondered what to tell him. “Are pajamas only for women and babies? And men are supposed to sleep naked?”

  “Well,” she said, trying to come up with an answer. “I suppose both your father and your aunt Carolina are correct,” she said, giving a negligent shrug to make this a small problem in his mind. “If your dad says men sleep naked, then he should know, seeing how he’s a man. But your aunt knew it wasn’t appropriate since you had a guest staying with you, especially a girl guest. So maybe your father can buy you pajamas for when you have a sleepover or spend the night at a friend’s house. That way nobody gets offended.”

  “Henry!” Sophie hollered from the lane. “I thought you were right behind me. Come on! Sam’s bringing out our horses so we can brush them!”

  “I’m coming!” Henry hollered back. He gave a slight bow. “Thank you, Miss Olivia. I think that’s a perfect solution.” He shook his head, looking quite sad again. “It’s too bad you couldn’t just fall in love with my dad. I think you would make a good theurgist’s wife.”

  And with that he headed down the path, leaving Olivia gaping after him.

  Henry thought his father was a theurgist?

  Olivia set her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her palms with a frown. And what was that thing about sword lessons, anyway? Was Mac teaching Henry how to fence but had told him not to say anything, afraid she’d think it was too dangerous for a six-year-old?

  But didn’t fencing involve a foil or something, not a sword?

  She snorted. She couldn’t quite see Mac waving a sissy foil around. But she certainly could see him wielding a long, thick sword like King Arthur’s Excalibur or one of those highland swords on the covers of the romance novels she liked to read.

  And the scary thing was, the idea of Mac coming here from some long-ago century wasn’t all that disturbing to her. Because really, the man certainly walked and talked and acted like a throwback to the bygone age of chivalry, right down to his giving her a token of his affection.

  Olivia leaned over and pulled up her pajama leg to touch the thin gold chain. What had made him choose an ankle bracelet? And come to think of it, when had he chosen it for her? He hadn’t left Inglenook all week except for last Sunday’s picnic, and she’d only suggested they go out to dinner yesterday morning.

  Oh God, had he asked his sister for something to give his date, and Carolina had given him one of her bracelets?

  Olivia turned the chain to the clasp so she could take it off to see it better. Only there wasn’t a clasp. Nothing. The thin gold rope went directly into the setting holding the stone, making the bracelet impossible to get off without breaking it.

  “You’ve got to be friggin’ kidding me,” she growled, sliding the chain around her ankle, looking for some sort of clasp. Only there wasn’t one. Nothing but a tiny gold medallion with an aquamarine stone set in the center of… she lifted her ankle onto her knee to study the medallion.

  What in hell was that? Because honestly, it looked like the stone was set in the center prong of a pitchfork or a… a trident, maybe?

  She sat up, her gaze going to cabin ten. Didn’t Poseidon carry a trident?

  Mythological bedtime stories. Formal mannerisms. Arranged marriages. Swords. Odd terms and old-fashioned speech patterns, like how Mac and Henry and Carolina posed their questions sort of backward and rarely used contractions—although she supposed that was common if English wasn’t a person’s first language. But that didn’t explain words like theurgist instead of wizard and… and what in hell did ma-REE-tah mean, anyway? She didn’t even know if it was French, Greek, or Swahili.

  And why couldn’t she get this damn ankle bracelet off?

  For that matter, how come Mac’s truck was out to get her?

  And three albatrosses walking down a road in the middle of the night in Maine?

  Really? Tame albatrosses?

  Albatrosses that Mac didn’t want her turning over to the authorities.

  So, had she been living out here in the woods so long that anything foreign or different was suspicious? Or was she getting semihysterical over nothing because she had stepped way, way outside her comfort zone last night?

  Hell, maybe she was drunk on too much sex all at once!

  Olivia slid her foot off her knee and took a calming breath. Could she stretch her imagination, Mac had asked her this morning, enough to see the gift they’d been given? And could she listen to the message of the albatrosses, as it might be something she’d been waiting a very long time to hear?

  Except the only thing she was hearing right now was her gut telling her there was something very weird about the Oceanuses.

  And that more had happened last night than just the beginning of an affair.

  Olivia dropped her face in her hands on her knees. Honest to God, Mac hadn’t left just a few small marks on her body or placed a pretty shackle around her ankle last night; he’d somehow managed to sneak past her carefully guarded line of defense and make her want something she hadn’t even dared to hope for.

  But the really scary part was that even Mac’s strangeness wasn’t enough to scare her off. Because if there was one thing Olivia’s mama had taught her young daughter before she’d died, it was that the most powerful and precious gifts often come out of nowhere, usually when least expected and almost always the last thing expected.

  Which rather described Mac, didn’t it?

  Chapter Eighteen

  He was so intent on trying to figure out why he’d gotten the cold shoulder from Olivia at dinner that evening, Mac nearly missed the fact that they were being followed. He lifted Henry off his shoulders and set him down on the moonlit path, putting a finger to his lips to signal they needed to stay quiet. He took Henry’s hand and put it in Carolina’s, then urged them to continue walking toward Inglenook ahead of him.

  Had whoever was out there been stalking them all the way from the clearing and seen Henry’s lesson? With Carolina noisily cheering the boy on, coaching him when to attack and when to retreat from his father’s advancing sword, there was a good chance Mac wouldn’t have realized they were being watched.

  Whoever it was had the skills of a hunter, as he sensed rather than heard the footsteps touching the forest floor with deliberate care a good fifty paces behind them. Carolina looked over her shoulder, and Mac nodded over his own shoulder as he moved his fingers like walking legs to let her know what was happening.

  “Caro, why don’t you tell Henry how Prometheus gave man the gift of fire, and how angry that made Zeus,” Mac said in a normal tone, gesturing at her to keep walking. “Tell him how that led to Zeus ordering the creation of woman to plague man,” he added with a chuckle.

  Carolina gave a very loud snort and began swinging Henry’s hand between them so he’d face forward as she and boy continued down the path. “Well,” Carolina began, “Zeus was so angry that mortals had been given the powerful gift of fire, he ordered Hephaestus to mold a woman out of water and clay and give her the even more powerful gifts of beauty and grace and charm.”

  “And seduction and guile and deceit,” Mac drawled as he slowly widened the distance between them. “With which to tempt us poor, weak-minded men.”

  Carolina slapped her hands over Henry’s ears even as she kept walking down the path. “Don’t you dare listen to your father, young man,” she said, shooting Mac a frown over her shoulder, then giving a nod as he fell back even farther. “Except the part about men being weak-minded,” she continued, taking hold of Henry’s hand again. “Sorry, nephew; I’m afraid you were born the weaker sex.”

  “But you make it sound as if Zeus wanted woman to be a punishment to man,” Henry said, clearly confused. “Only I like women. You’re all soft and huggable and . . .”

  Mac focused on what was going on behind him instead of the conversation now taking place a good distance
in front, even as he reached over his shoulder and pulled his sword from its sheath. He halted beside a giant pine tree, used his foot to make a mark in the dirt to indicate someone had gone behind the tree, and then stepped off the path on the opposite side, blending into the shadows to wait.

  Within two heartbeats he recognized the stilted gait of their stalker, and smiled. As he’d surmised with only a handshake, Sam Waters was a seasoned warrior who apparently even crippled had the stealth of a lethal predator. The man also had good instincts and eyesight, Mac decided when Sam stopped about three paces before reaching the pine and studied the mark in the ground.

  And still Mac waited, watching Sam take a step back and slowly reach down and pull up his pant leg, his eyes never leaving the tree. He silently slid a knife out of his boot, then turned, still half crouched, putting his back to the pine to face Mac’s side of the path, his weapon held with the blade running along his arm.