by Tara Sheets
Kat stuck her tongue between her teeth and grinned like a Cheshire cat. “He’s a lot of things.” A lot of wonderful, amazing things.
“What if this song has lyrics?” Emma continued with growing excitement. “What if there’s a clue in the song? What if—”
“It helps us open the lock?” Kat considered it. “But how? I mean, seriously. What are the odds that some old man from Ireland just happened to teach Jordan a song that just happens to hold a clue to help us unlock a spell for the Holloway house all these years later?”
“Never ask the odds,” Juliette said, jumping to her feet. “Not in this house. What are the odds that any of this”—she gestured to the entire attic—“would exist? Magical coincidences happen every day in the world, but most people just don’t recognize them. Just because they can’t be explained, doesn’t make them any less real. The three of us should know that better than anyone. Come on.” She walked toward the attic door. “Let’s go.”
Kat set the music box aside and rose to her feet. “Where?”
“To talk to Jordan.”
“Maybe he’ll be able to help us,” Emma agreed.
Kat followed them down the stairs. “But what if he doesn’t help us? What if it’s just a regular song?”
“Then the trip will still be worth it,” Juliette said. “Any time a super-hot guy serenades you with a guitar? That’s a win.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jordan heard a knock at the front door and hoped it was Kat. The likelihood was low because she normally entered through the kitchen, but he hadn’t seen her all day and he missed her. Hell, he missed her all the time. Even when they spent hours together, it never seemed to be enough. It was entirely possible that he’d been bewitched by La Belle Dame sans Merci, but he wasn’t sure he cared. At least he’d die a happy man.
He opened the door, swinging it wide when he saw Kat.
“Jordan!” Kat’s eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed. He liked seeing her like this, only usually it was under different, more intimate circumstances. He wanted to haul her off somewhere private and give her more reasons to blush, but he had to pull himself together because she wasn’t alone.
“You remember Emma and Juliette Holloway?” She gestured to her two friends standing behind her on the porch.
Jordan nodded. “Hi.”
“We came to ask you something.” Kat shifted restlessly on her feet. Almost like she was nervous.
He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to ask me to foster a herd of needy giraffes?”
“I’m not,” Kat assured him.
He crossed his arms. “A flock of rhinos? A gaggle of whales?”
Kat stamped her foot impatiently, and he fought not to smile. Even frustrated, she was so damned adorable.
“It’s a crash of rhinos. A pod of whales,” she said quickly. “But never mind that. I need you to do something very important for me.” Kat glanced at the other two women, then back at him with her pleading, fallen-angel face. “For us.”
He started to wave them into the house because he already knew he was going to be suckered into whatever it was Kat wanted. It was impossible for him to deny her anything when she looked at him like that. Whatever she needed, he’d give it to her. Damn, he had it bad for this woman.
Kat reached out and touched him lightly on the hand. “No, what we need is over there.” She pointed in the direction of the red barn. Whatever she was going to ask, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.
“Jordan,” Kat said, squaring her shoulders. “I need you to play us a song on your guitar.”
What the hell? “Sorry, ladies. I’m not in the business of playing my guitar for anyone.” He gave Kat a pointed look. That song he’d played for her in the caravan was private. “It’s been a really long time, and I’m out of practice.”
“It’s not so much the delivery that’s important,” Kat said. “It’s the song itself. Remember the old Irish lullaby you played for me in the caravan?” So much for privacy. “Does it have lyrics?”
“Yes, but just a few and they don’t make much sense.”
“Who taught it to you?” Emma asked. “My grandmother used to hum the same tune, and she had a jewelry box with that melody.”
“One of the old men from my parents’ folk band taught it to me,” Jordan said. It was odd to talk about his parents with strangers, let alone admitting they had a folk band. But something about these women made it seem okay. “He was a musician from Ireland, but he didn’t stay for very long. He disappeared after they split up.”
“Can you sing it to us?” Juliette asked. “Please?”
Jordan noticed the way Emma was wringing her hands and how anxious her cousin Juliette looked. Kat seemed as though she were holding her breath. She looked somehow fragile. Like her life depended on this moment.
He crossed his arms. “Why?”
They filled him in on what they knew, until Jordan’s mind spun with possibilities. Magic house. Magic women. Magic key. To anyone else, it might sound crazy, but he knew Kat now. He’d seen the way she worked with animals—how she communicated with them. If that wasn’t magic, then what was? He’d never been one to place much belief in his mother’s flights of fancy, but she always said the Holloway magic was real. Maybe it was. Who was he to disagree?
Ten minutes later, Jordan found himself sitting on the front porch with Kat beside him. Juliette and Emma sat on the steps and waited. If anyone had told him a month ago he’d be back at the farm, serenading women with old folk music, he’d have said they were crazy. But life was crazy. He’d always known that.
Kat gave him a sweet, encouraging smile.
What he hadn’t known was that sometimes life could be crazy good. He strummed the guitar until he found the tune, then began to sing in a low, deep voice:
“Fae lovers met in a wild wood to bid farewell to their children three.
They left the north, they traveled south, then west across the sea.
And over years the children changed, and forgot the wild wood,
Forgot the tales of other realms and spells that worked for good.
But for a whisper of a song, the youngest child did sing:
Together is the answer, love. Together you have everything.”
Jordan kept strumming, but stole a glance at the three women. “And that’s all. It’s just that verse, and then the rest of the song is a repetition of,
“The secret to the hearth and home:
Do together what you cannot do alone.”
When the song ended, Kat looked at Emma and Juliette. “Any idea what it means?”
No one said anything for a while, and disappointment began to settle over him. As far-fetched as their hopes were, he’d really wanted to help them.
Emma suddenly gasped. She jumped up and whirled to face them. “We have to get back to the house. I think I know how to open that lock!”
Jordan set his guitar aside. “How?”
Emma looked fiercely determined. “Together.”
After the women dashed back to the house, Jordan sat on the porch with the guitar, absently strumming the melody. Something warm and sweet and too powerful to name flooded through him when he thought of Kat’s beautiful face and how it glowed with hope as she thanked him before they left. He wanted to see her light up like that every day. He wanted her for all sorts of reasons. For a long time, he stayed on the porch, his mind spinning with thoughts of Kat, and how he could make her happy.
* * *
Back at the Holloway house, Kat followed Emma and Juliette down into the root cellar. The three of them knelt beside the lock.
Emma withdrew the clover key from her pocket. “I think we’re meant to do this together.”
“You mean like, hold the key together?” Juliette asked. “It can’t be that simple.”
“Let’s try it.” Kat reached out to lay her hand on Emma’s.
Juliette did the same, and
Emma inserted the key into the lock with a loud click.
Kat’s hand began to buzz with a strange, tingling energy.
A cool breeze swirled into the room, surrounding all three of them. It kissed Kat’s eyelashes and ruffled the hair on the nape of her neck. She thought she heard whispers in the air around them.
“Do you feel that?” Juliette’s face glowed with triumph.
“Yes,” Emma breathed. She turned to Kat. “That’s Holloway magic.”
Kat stared at the lock, wondering what was about to happen. Whatever it was, she had a feeling her life was about to change in a huge way.
“They left the north and traveled south.” Emma whispered the lyrics as they turned the key south.
Another clicking sound in the mechanism.
They all exchanged excited glances.
“Then west across the sea,” Juliette said. They turned the key to the west, and this time, the click sounded like the chime of a grandfather clock.
“Together is the answer,” Kat whispered.
The lock sprang free, revealing a wooden box carved with flowers and vines and strange, Celtic-looking symbols. It was long and narrow, with a fitted lid.
Juliette opened the lid to reveal a rolled-up piece of parchment.
Emma pulled it out, and Kat helped her unroll it. The paper was surprisingly sturdy, considering how old it looked, and the comforting scent of sweet herbs and spices seemed to waft in the air around them.
They all peered down at the faded words.
“It’s a spell,” Juliette breathed.
“Hearth and Home,” Emma read aloud. “To create a true home. A sentinel to guide and protect.”
“A sentinel,” Kat repeated. “Like this house?”
“Yes.” Emma scanned the words quickly. “I think this spell only works if the three of us do it together. It’s for making a home that recognizes and protects our family.”
“Wow,” Juliette said in awe. “And to think it’s been here all along. Why are we just finding it now?”
Emma slowly turned and looked at Kat. “I think it was waiting for the right Holloway to arrive.”
Back in the kitchen, Emma put the kettle on while Kat poured over the “Hearth and Home” spell on the marble island. Her head ached with the monumental significance of what they’d just discovered.
“So let me get this straight,” Juliette said between bites of a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie. “That spell is from our ancestors, but it could only be discovered and used when three Holloways were present.”
“Yes,” Emma said, pulling three teacups from the cupboard. “And once Kat came along, I guess it was finally ready to be found. So whenever we’re ready, it looks like we can bring the spirit of this house into both of your homes, too. A sentinel to guide and protect.”
The lights flickered joyfully, and all three women laughed.
Kat shook her head, still floored by the newfound proof that she was part of the Holloway family. “I wish I knew for sure how I fit in to all this.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Emma assured her. “But we don’t need more proof. You belong with us.”
Kat looked at the two women who had come to mean so much. The kitchen curtains billowed out by an unseen breeze.
“That’s the house chiming in,” Emma said, handing her a cup of tea. “It agrees.”
“Yup,” Juliette said. “We’re keeping you, so you’re just going to have to get comfortable with that. Now come eat these cookies. They’re insane.”
Kat felt a sudden burst of joy. No matter what they found out about her past, these women had accepted her into their lives, and Kat had never had that before. She wasn’t sure what she’d ever done to deserve something this special, but she was going to treasure it always.
“Wanna stay for dinner?” Emma asked. “Hunter will be home soon. I can ask him to go get ice cream, and we can all watch Sherlock to celebrate solving the case!”
“I want to, but I’ve sort of promised Opal I’d show up to her Summer’s End Gala. It’s a black tie event her assisted living community puts on every year.”
“Sounds fancy,” Juliette said. “What are you wearing?”
Kat pulled out a kitchen chair to sit down. Draped neatly across the seat was the blue velvet dress. She let out a tiny gasp.
Juliette leaned sideways to get a better look. “Yeah,” she said, chewing thoughtfully. “That’s a good choice.” To the ceiling she said, “Nice one, house.”
Kat lifted the blue dress, hugging it to her chest, and the house settled in what sounded like a satisfied hmph.
Chapter Thirty
The Pine Cove Island Country Club was situated on the edge of a beautiful golf course on the north side of the island. A tree-lined driveway filled with twinkling lights lit the way to the main building, a huge manor house with old-world-style columns and a three-tiered fountain out front. By the time Kat’s Uber pulled into the circular drive, she was buzzing with excitement. She’d been to black tie events back in L.A., but this was different. Jordan was here. He’d gone ahead to take Opal, and Kat couldn’t wait to see him all “gussied up.”
Kat thanked the driver, got out of the car, and slowly climbed the grand staircase to the entrance. She’d dressed at Emma’s house in the blue velvet gown. Juliette had gone hunting in the attic and, of course, found a pair of shoes that fit Kat perfectly, and a lovely beaded clutch. Together they’d helped Kat with her hair and makeup, and by the time they were finished, Kat felt like Cinderella going to the ball.
Now, as she stepped into the grand foyer of the country club, all she needed was to find her prince. If it crossed her mind that Cinderella’s night didn’t end very well, Kat wasn’t going to worry about it. Tonight was her fantasy, and she was going to spin it how she wanted. In her fairy tale, Cinderella and the prince would dance, drink, have a scorching hot make-out session in some secluded alcove, and then catch a ride on the first pumpkin home so the real party could begin. In her bedroom. Now that was a happy ending.
Kat joined the partygoers, searching for Jordan or Opal. People mingled in the grand hall while servers wove through the crowd with trays of sparkling champagne. There was laughter and conversation, and Kat suddenly felt very alone.
She stopped beside a marble column and pretended to check her phone. It gave her something to do while she gathered her courage to enter the grand ballroom by herself.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” said a familiar, raspy voice.
Kat glanced up and grinned. “Smitty! I didn’t know you were going to be here.” She’d never been so glad to see her crotchety boss.
“All us older folks come to the Summer’s End Gala. It’s one of the only times of the year we get to dress classy.” Smitty’s hair was supersized tonight, as were the shoulder pads in her gold sequined, V-necked cocktail dress. She stuck a hand on her hip and eyed Kat thoughtfully. “The real question is, what are you doing here?”
“Opal Prescott invited us. She’s on the committee, and I’m renting a room from her, so she extended the invitation.”
“Us?”
“Hmm?” Kat searched the foyer behind Smitty for any sign of Jordan.
“You said Opal asked ‘us.’”
“Oh, yes. She invited her grandson Jordan to come, too.”
“Uh-huh.” Smitty snorted. “That explains it.” She finished off her champagne in one gulp.
“What do you mean?”
Smitty pointed to Kat’s gown with a gold sparkly nail. “This Miss America thing you’ve got going on here. It looks good on you, kiddo. Just let my nephew down easy, will you?”
“What?” Kat asked. “We never—”
Bobby Bankston came walking up with two flutes of champagne. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a bolero tie. Somehow, it suited him. Even without the hat, he still looked like a cowboy.
Bobby’s eyes grew wide when he saw Kat. “Hot damn.”
Kat beamed. “Hey, Bobby.”
&n
bsp; “I’m going out for some fresh air.” Smitty pulled a pack of cigarettes from her spangly purse and walked away.
“You look . . .” Bobby seemed at a loss for words.
“Thanks.” Kat felt suddenly guilty for not returning Bobby’s calls. He’d called her a few times, but she’d ignored him. Anyone in their right mind would love to have a nice guy like Bobby, but Kat had to be honest with herself. And him. He deserved honesty. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you back.”
“Nah,” he said, waving a hand and glancing away. “I understand.”
But did he? Kat felt it only fair to tell him the truth. “The thing is, Bobby, I think you’re a really great guy.”
He chuckled. “Oh, man. Kiss of death, those words.”
“No, I mean it,” Kat insisted. “I really enjoyed going to dinner with you. You’re charming and entertaining and handsome and all those things. But . . . I’m kind of hung up on someone else.”
“Yeah, I hoped that was it,” Bobby said easily.
“You did?” Kat asked in surprise.
He flashed his boyish dimples. “It’s a much easier set-down if I know there’s someone else in the picture. If I thought a gorgeous girl like you was ignoring my calls just because of me, well. That’d sting a hell of a lot more, you know what I mean?” He took a drink of champagne, only it was more like a swig.
“I hope we can be good friends.” Kat wished she could say something less cliché.
“Oh! The trifecta.” He tipped his head back and laughed. “You’re a great guy. It’s not you, it’s me. I hope we can still be friends.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “I really mean it.”
He gave her a firm nod. “Damn straight we’ll be friends. I’m still going to need your input with the puppy training.”
“I’ll be happy to help.” She said good-bye, suspecting that deep down, even Bobby knew they weren’t right for each other. As enjoyable as their dinner date was, there just hadn’t been much of a spark between them. If he had truly felt it—that all-encompassing, fever-inducing, lust-filled attraction that swept you up like a hurricane and eclipsed all rational thought—he probably would’ve tried harder. Kat knew.