She reached up and cradled his face in her hot, delicate hands, and even though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “I’m sorry. Were ye hoping for a couple of days off from work? Because I could go find that rake if ye want.”
“I need a bus!” a voice croaked from the bluff. “Welles! Higgins! Somebody! We’re transporting!” the croaking continued, moving closer. “Where in hell is everyone?”
The hands cradling his face disappeared, the accompanying sigh echoing his own. But then she leaned down and placed a tender kiss on his cheek, light as air but somehow still scorching. “You stay put while I go help her,” Katy said as she headed off.
“Excuse me.” Gunnar cleared his throat when he realized he sounded rather hoarse himself. “Are the medics in Pine Creek in the habit of ordering their chief around?”
He saw her silhouette stop. “They do when he’s the patient. Stay put.”
For a long moment, Gunnar felt the kiss on his cheek, drank in her scent—vanilla and campfire—and wanted to dive into it. Then his cheek cooled, and the kiss faded into the night.
A drawn-out crash came from near the shed, the cacophony of banging metal laced with a croaked string of very unladylike and quite inventive curses.
“I’m right here,” Gunnar heard Katy say at the same time he saw her penlight click on, faintly illuminating Gretchen sitting in a tangle of lawn chairs. More powerful flashlight beams arched through the darkness just as a vehicle started out on the road, the relative silence of the abandoned party shattered by the overloud beeping of an ambulance backing up.
The beeping finally stopped, and the yard turned to day when the floodlights on the rear of the ambulance came on, making Gunnar realize he still held his T-shirt up under his armpits. He pushed away from the table, then began tucking in his shirt with another sigh. Just a few more inches and those luscious lips would have been on his. Then he would have—
What the hell? Either he was a lot tougher than he thought or Wyatt had grown soft in retirement, because not only did his ribs barely hurt anymore, he felt surprisingly . . . energized. Much like he imagined Tuxedo Tim had felt after Katy breathed life back into his tiny lungs. Gunnar snorted, half tempted to look for a blowing leaf he could dodge and dart after as he headed to the ambulance.
* * *
* * *
“You should start slowing down,” Gretchen said in a raspy whisper, gesturing at the road ahead. “It’s that sign on the—”
She stopped talking when Katy drove past the entrance to Moose Point Condominiums. “I told you I’ll pick up my car tomorrow,” Gretchen continued. “I shouldn’t be driving with a painkiller in my system.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to stay at the station tonight.”
“I don’t need to be babysat,” she snapped hoarsely, “for a sore throat and three tiny stitches on my brow.”
“And a possible concussion,” Katy added, “as well as a couple of bruised ribs.”
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“And you can go right back to taking care of yourself tomorrow.” Katy flashed her a smile. “But tonight, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
Her passenger fell silent and stared out the side window. Katy felt her smile fade. She didn’t care how much Gretchen groused. Nobody should be alone after being so brutally attacked. And something told her a good part of Gretchen’s protests had to do with her not wanting the firefighters to see her all beaten up; Katy remembered—all too well—feeling perversely embarrassed and ashamed at finding herself a victim four weeks ago. She also knew the sense of absolute aloneness could be even more wounding than the attack itself.
“The men need to see for themselves that you’re okay,” Katy said into the silence. “You have to realize they’re going to feel responsible for your getting hurt.”
Gretchen looked over in surprise. “They were busy doing their own jobs.”
“I heard Ike say he should have known better then to send us to tend drug overdoses all by ourselves.”
“He was told there was a deputy sheriff giving CPR to one of them,” Gretchen rasped. “Ike knew we weren’t alone.”
“Where was the deputy? When I heard you scream, I only saw you and your patient.”
Gretchen dropped her gaze to her lap. “I . . . ah, I told him I had it covered and sent him to go find you. What happened to your patient?” she asked in an obvious attempt to redirect the conversation.
“I found a teenage girl down on the beach with her boyfriend.” Katy chuckled. “Both of them scared to death their parents were going to find out they’d been smoking pot. Apparently, it doesn’t agree with the girl, so the boyfriend took her away from the crowd, and she fell asleep waiting for the dizziness to pass.” Katy shrugged. “My guess is whoever called 911 saw them and thought the girl had also overdosed. The kids started apologizing when I showed up, thinking they were the reason we were there. And when I assured them they weren’t, the brats took off down the beach. I didn’t bother chasing them, figuring anyone that agile didn’t need a medic.”
“Probably right.”
“I was just climbing up the bluff when I heard you scream.” She smiled again. “And as luck would have it, I happened to notice a rake leaning against the side of the shed as I ran past.”
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Gretchen whispered. “One minute, the bastard was choking me, and the next minute, you showed up and kicked him hard enough that I swear I heard one of his ribs crack. Who taught you to do that?”
“Every Saturday morning when we were growing up, our father gave me and my older sister lessons on how to defend ourselves.”
There were several heartbeats of silence. “Could . . . do you think you could teach me to fight like that?”
Score! Katy smiled out the windshield. “Funny you should ask. I’ve been planning to talk to Birch Callahan, the lady who runs the crisis shelter here in town, about starting a self-defense class for women.”
“Then consider me your first student.”
“Oh, I won’t be teaching it,” Katy explained. “I’m hoping to get Niall and my other two male cousins to collectively teach it.”
“But wouldn’t the women be more comfortable learning from you? Why even bother involving men?”
“Because it’s most likely a man they’d ultimately be defending themselves against. And if women only spar with other women, they might lose their confidence if they ever found themselves facing an angry, aggressive brute.” She shot Gretchen a sinister grin. “Trust me, it’s quite empowering to know you can trounce a 250-pound man with nothing more than a broom or garden rake.”
Gretchen snorted. “I felt empowered just watching you go after that bastard. My God, you were relentless.”
“That’s because Papa taught Maggie and me to never hesitate or back down or we’d lose the advantage of both surprise and momentum.”
Gretchen straightened her shoulders as far as her sore ribs would allow. “I want to help set up the classes. We’ll ask Chief Wolfe if we can hold them at the station, and I’ll handle the paperwork and scheduling and make flyers to post around town.” She looked over at Katy. “That is, if you want my help.”
“I’d love it.”
“I . . . ah, I’m sorry,” Gretchen whispered, her shoulders slumping again.
“For what?”
“For being a bitch to you earlier.”
That made Katy laugh. “Do you honestly believe you’re the first person to judge me on my looks alone?”
Gretchen sighed. “I suppose not.”
“I’ve been underestimated most all my life.” Katy shot her another smile. “Sometimes it works to my advantage, but most of the time, it’s just a pain in the ass.” She rolled her eyes. “You think I have a hard time being taken seriously as a para
medic; imagine a New York businessman shopping for a million-dollar Maine vacation home believing a long-legged, perky-boobed, twenty-two-year-old knows anything about septic systems, artesian wells, snow loads, and shoreland regulations.”
Gretchen hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I actually called you that.”
“Too late. I’m not letting you take back your compliment.”
Gretchen dropped her hands and blinked at her. “What?”
“Every girl likes to hear she has perky boobs,” Katy drawled, laughing again when Gretchen’s gaze dropped to her chest.
Katy let off the gas as they approached town, only to spot their huge aerial set up down in the park near the base of the waterfalls, its rear floodlights illuminating the bucket extended high into the trees. She checked her outside mirror to make sure no one was behind her, then slowed the ambulance to a crawl as she idled across the bridge. “What do you suppose they’re doing?” she said, gesturing toward the fire truck.
“That looks like Matt in the bucket,” Gretchen rasped. “Now why would he be stringing lights in the town park at—” She looked at her watch. “Good Lord, what are they doing out here at nearly one in the morning?”
Katy pulled the ambulance across the road and stopped next to the sidewalk. “I know what they’re doing,” she said, shutting off the engine. “You missed it earlier, but when we rolled out of the station, did you notice all the people in the side yard?”
“Yeah, I did. I couldn’t believe the crowd. Paul told me a steady stream of people had been showing up since around seven.”
“That’s because the Grange ladies have apparently decided Spellbound Falls needs a community rec center.” Katy chuckled. “I wish you could have seen Gunnar. He was so offended when he realized they’d hijacked our campfire, he wanted Jake to arrest them for selling beer on town—” She stopped talking when she saw Skip Mason in the fire chief’s pickup, which was towing the concession trailer behind it, turn off the road onto the park path, only to stop when he spotted the ambulance.
“What is that?” Gretchen asked.
“That would be the Grange’s concession stand. They had it set up in our woods near the sidewalk. And see those two red picnic tables?” Katy added, pointing toward the two tables a few yards from the aerial. “They were set up beside our campfire pit. And all those lights Matt is stringing through the trees had been strung through our trees.”
“That still doesn’t explain what they’re all doing here at one in the morn—”
Gretchen’s door opened, and Ike Russo leaned into the cab far enough to unclip her seat belt, then gently guided her down to the ground. He held her by the shoulders as he gave her a visible inspection, his worried gaze stopping on the small bandage on her brow. His eyes turned distressed, then he blew out a sigh and enfolded her into a careful hug.
“Knock it off, Ike,” she sputtered. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not the one to decide such things,” he grumbled.
Gretchen eased out of his grip and ducked her head, likely to hide the blush in her cheeks, Katy decided. She moved past Ike, and out of Katy’s sight, muttering as she walked. “Way too much fussing going on around here.”
Katy chucked and slipped out of the cab. “Should we go check out what’s happening down at the park, Gretchen?” she called.
Gretchen appeared on Katy’s side of the bus and flashed a relieved smile. “Yeah, I could use some air.”
Together, they crossed the bridge and headed for the park. By now, the lights were up and glowing, and most of the team had gathered at the picnic tables. The sight made Katy smile, a microcosm of the good will she’d been longing to create in her new town. So funny what a little nudging could do.
“MacBain, Conway, nice of you to join us,” Gunnar called out. “Leave it to you two to show up when the work’s nearly finished.”
“Guess we’re the smart ones,” Katy said with a grin. She found her way to one of the tables and took a seat, then glanced around her at the transformation. “Looks fantastic, guys.”
Nods and smiles appeared all around her, and she nearly chuckled at their pride. Where were those guys who got so up in arms about her fire pit? Not that she missed them, of course.
“Here you go, ladies.” Skip Mason placed a bottle of water in front of each of them. “Join the party,” he said with a wink.
Katy’s whole body went clammy, and she dropped her gaze to the ground. He’s a good guy, she told herself. Nothing to fear here. You’re fine.
But the tension only pressed down harder, made her head throb and her mouth go dry. She looked at the bottle of water, desperate for a sip, but knew there was just no way. Lifting her eyes and forcing her mouth into a smile, she scanned the group. They talked and laughed, calling out to Matt as he lowered the bucket.
Seizing the moment, she took her bottle, opened it in her lap, and then lowered it until its top stood even with her knee. Glancing around one last time, she poured it out, then closed it and put it back on the table. She stared at the empty bottle and her body relaxed. Crisis averted.
“You want us to go get the fire pit, Chief?” Welles asked, catching Katy’s attention.
“No!” all the firefighters—and even Gretchen—said in unison.
“That work of art is ours,” Ike added in a growl.
“Yeah,” Paul Higgins injected. “The campfires are our community service.”
“And if the Grange ladies try to have their own campfire here in the park,” Ike went on, “they better make sure they get a permit first.” He suddenly grinned. “And after we do a safety inspection on their pit, maybe we’ll write them one.”
Raucous laughter broke out, echoing between the trees. Katy joined in, once again thrilled that her fire pit had become so inarguably theirs. As her head went back, her eye caught Gunnar’s, and the expression on his face killed her mirth. He held her eye for several seconds, then glanced, ever so slightly, at the empty bottle in front of her. Finally, he looked away, every bit of the interest she’d just seen now erased.
It’s not a crime to pour out water, she told herself, knowing deep down that had nothing to do with it.
* * *
* * *
At shift-change the next morning, Katy walked into chaos in the station kitchen. She stepped inside and found everyone clustered around the television, hooting and hollering like they’d discovered a second sun.
“What’s going on?” she asked Welles, who stood nearest the door.
“Canada has a new island,” he said and pointed to the television.
Katy frowned. Why was that such a big deal? She peered up at the TV, mystified by the fuss over an ordinary—albeit stunningly beautiful—blue-green land mass, teeming with lush flora and soaring mountain peaks. Then she saw the headline. This wasn’t some renamed or reclaimed piece of land. Instead, according to the stunned newscasters, this island literally appeared in the center of James Bay in Canada, rising up out of the water overnight.
She smiled, realizing she was more in the loop than most. Of course. This was Atlantis. The rumors about Titus’ plans were true. He’d actually done it, and he’d thrown the world on its ear in the process. Good for him, she thought, her grin widening.
And then it faded as Gunnar popped into her mind. She glanced around the kitchen, found him standing near the corner, his expression deep and unreadable. She waited for him to look at her, wanting to at least give him some sign of concern. How devastating it must be to know he could never go home again. She couldn’t even imagine how she’d fall apart if Pine Creek suddenly disappeared.
When he finally looked her way, she tried to say all of that with her smile. He smiled back, looking a bit like he didn’t quite get the joke, but maybe that had something to do with him cutting those ties—to the Oceanuses, to Nicholas, and to magic in general—a long time ago. What
ever the reason, he seemed to interpret her smile as an invitation, and he navigated through the others and made his way to her.
“Pretty crazy, huh?” he said, leaning casually against the wall.
“Depends on your perspective, I guess.” Katy thought about giving him a wink, then thought better of it.
“So this doesn’t surprise you?”
“Not especially. Does it surprise you?”
“As much as anyone, I guess.”
“Got it.” If he could downplay it, so could she.
He studied her for a moment, the quizzical look returning, and then it cleared. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask if I could go riding with you sometime.”
Katy felt her eyes widen. Well that was a lovely idea. Why hadn’t she thought of that? “I didn’t know riding interested you.”
“I happen to love horses.”
Ahh. That make perfect sense. He might have to give up Atlantis, but he’d always be a mythical warrior. And what did warriors need? Horses.
In fact, she realized, maybe a renewed relationship with horses might be his way of dealing with his other losses. He might have to give up some things, but he didn’t have to give up everything.
“Gunnar Wolfe, I would be thrilled to take you riding,” Katy said. “In fact, if you’d be willing to help me turn a young friend into a capable rider, there’ll even be a kiss in it for ye.”
His eyes widened, a bit like a kid getting his first glimpse of Christmas morning abundance, then he nodded like a bobblehead. Chuckling softly, she gave him her brightest smile, immensely pleased with the way things were shaping up. Not only did she get to spend time riding her beloved horse with this hunky man, she also got to help him hold on to his essence in the process.
Chapter Eleven
Gunnar peered up at Katy, painfully aware of how hard she was trying not to be amused at his compromised state. What a bust this adventure had been. And she’d planned such a lovely day, too, a chance for them to spend time together and, as fellow horse lovers, help Shiloh get over his fear of riding. And now, here they sat, Gunnar perched on one big rock with his injured leg stretched out on another, and Shiloh likely terrified of horses for life.
Call It Magic Page 15
