by Amelia Adams
“I think it looks beautiful,” she said.
She brought her gaze up to meet his, and for a split second, his breath was taken away. She looked joyous in the kitchen, like a spark of life had been ignited, and her eyes twinkled and she smiled, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “I think you’re beautiful,” he said softly.
Her eyes flickered away, and he wanted to kick himself. He’d ruined the moment by pushing it. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut?
She turned. “This should be about ready,” she said, grasping the handle of the pot. Daniel realized she’d forgotten the pot holder and cried out a warning, but he was a few seconds too late. She’d already jerked back and dropped the pot on the stove.
Daniel rushed to her side, taking her arm and leading her to the sink. He stuck her hand under the cold running water, not needing to look at her face to know that she was really in pain. He could feel it radiating up his arm and into his shoulder blade. He couldn’t ask her to suffer like this—not when he could take it away. He battled with himself for several long seconds. He could remove the pain slightly, but how was that really going to help her? Finally, decision made, he closed his eyes and removed the pain, then asked the skin to heal. The entire thing took less than two minutes, and yet, it seemed to take an eternity for the choice to be made and the pain to recede.
Claire pulled her hand from his grasp and looked at it. It seemed perfectly all right. She flexed her fingers a couple of times, then took a few steps back. “What did you do?” she asked, her voice level, but hard.
“I ran your hand under cold water,” he replied. “That’s the best thing to do for a burn.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s not what happened. You took it from me—the burn, the pain. I don’t know how you did it, but I felt it flow out of me and into you. Tell me the truth and tell me now, Daniel—no stories.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell you the entire thing. But first, I need you to sit down.”
She scowled.
“I’m not trying to patronize you. What I just did is going to catch up with you in about thirty seconds, and your knees will buckle. Sit down so you don’t end up on the floor.”
She did as she was told, and he sat down across from her. It was going to hit him soon too—chairs were good things to have around.
“I’m going to start at the beginning, all right?” he said, and she nodded.
“Well, many generations ago—so many, we can’t count them—there was a man named McClain who was the seventh son of his father. He had seven sons of his own, and his seventh son also had seven sons. It went on that way up until this present day, with every seventh son having seven sons.”
Claire nodded. “Go on.”
Daniel pulled in another deep breath. “Those seventh sons had another odd thing going for them—each of them had a power, or a gift. No one knows where those gifts come from or when they began, just that every seventh son could do something amazing. There are stories in our family of the gift of foresight, of starting fires, of being able to control water—all kinds of things. And every seventh generation, each of the seven sons would have their own gift.”
He didn’t dare look at her now. This was all too much to take in, he was sure. He wasn’t even sure he’d believe it himself if he didn’t live it every day.
“Adam is an empath. Benjamin can make things grow. Caleb senses danger. I can heal injuries. Ephraim can talk to animals. Frank calms people down. And Gideon . . . well, he’s the seventh son, so he has bits of all those gifts wrapped up into one.”
He heard her suck in a breath. “I should be on my way to the emergency room right now—that burn was bad. But my hand is perfect—it’s not even tender.” She paused. “And who has pots like that in a house where teenagers are doing the cooking? You should have plastic or rubber-coated handles on those things, not metal. This was an accident just waiting to happen. I just . . .” She stood up and walked over to the window. “You’re telling me that everyone in your family has magic powers?”
“We don’t think of them as being magic, necessarily—we aren’t sure what they are.”
She turned to face him. “But they’re not normal. You get that, right? This isn’t normal? And the fact that you’re sitting there, trying to convince me . . .” She shook her head. “You’re nuts. But my hand . . . it’s better. And it shouldn’t be. And I don’t know what to think.”
“I know this sounds totally crazy, but it’s true.” Daniel pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll call anyone in the family to come over and help explain it. Who should I call?”
“How about Ghostbusters?” she said with a shaky laugh. “I don’t know, Daniel! What if you’re all nuts and you’re all working together to perpetuate this . . . this hoax?”
“Melissa had a hard time with it too at first,” Daniel said. He wished he could convince her—healing the burn was evidence, but seeing isn’t always believing. “It’s not the easiest thing in the world to accept.”
“You’ve got that right.” She held her hand up to the light. “Not even a mark. How is there not even a mark?”
Daniel pressed the button on his phone that would send a text to everyone in the family and punched out, Moment of truth. Could use help. My cabin. Then he sat back and regarded her. “It’s exactly what you said. I pulled out the pain, and then I asked the skin to heal.”
“But . . . people can’t do that. People can’t talk to skin. It’s just not possible. Skin doesn’t talk.”
“But skin is alive. It’s made up of cells, which are also alive. Everything that lives has its own method of communication. It’s just a matter of learning how that particular thing communicates.”
“Like . . . dolphins? You’re saying that if we learn how to grunt or whatever, we could talk to any living organism?”
“In theory, yes, although I don’t use my mouth to speak. I communicate on an internal level, a deeper level.”
She shook her head again. “I just . . . I just can’t.”
Daniel watched her pace. He’d never felt so helpless. He was presenting her with the truth, the most complete truth he knew, the universe he’d been raised in. She had no frame of reference, and he had no way to give her one. He just had to hope that the powers that be were keeping an eye on the situation because he had nothing.
Chapter Eleven
And to think that Daniel looked so sane. Claire shook her head as she rounded the table yet again. She’d known she’d stumbled onto something weird when she drove onto the property—things here were just too happy, like Munchkinland or something. She’d known the witch was going to show up, and sure enough, she was right—but she hadn’t expected Daniel to lose his mind like this. What was he even talking about, gifts and generations and all these sons? Did people even have seven children these days?
The front door opened, and Frank and Gideon came inside. Frank took one look at her, crossed the floor, and reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be all right,” he said.
A warm, soothing sensation flooded over her, originating with his hand on her shoulder and spreading out down to her toes and fingertips. She was suddenly so relaxed, she swayed a little bit. Gideon seemed to anticipate that—he grabbed a chair and tucked it under her knees just as they buckled.
“So, you’re the one who calms people down,” she said.
“That’s right,” Frank replied. He glanced over at Daniel. “I understand you’ve been having a really weird conversation.”
“Um, yeah, you could say that.” She gave a shaky laugh. “It’s like the Twilight Zone or something. How can all this be real?”
The door opened again, and Adam and Ephraim came inside. “Did you call everyone?” she asked, turning to Daniel.
“Yep. I figured this way, you could ask whatever questions you wanted.”
She nodded. “So, all the wives know about this, right?” she asked, looking at Adam.
“Yes. It’s a
n important part of asking them to marry us—they have to know what they’re getting into.” He chuckled. “It’s led to some interesting conversations.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Claire passed a hand over her eyes. “So. I’m trying to understand this. You all have a gift. It just happens, you don’t know why, and it’s not creepy.”
“We don’t think it’s creepy, but we’re used to it,” Gideon said. “Some of the people in town say we’re weird, and we don’t argue with that because we basically are. But we don’t cast spells or boil cauldrons—”
“Except for when Mom’s making Friday dinner,” Ephraim interjected. “Her soup pot’s pretty huge.”
“Yeah, that’s true. But she’s not putting eye of newt or anything like that in there.” Gideon grinned. “I’m not even sure what a newt is. Like a lizard or something?”
“Salamander, actually,” Ephraim replied.
Really? They were going to stand around talking about amphibians at a time like this?
“Let’s get back to the topic at hand,” Adam said gently. She turned and looked at him, her eyes wide. “I’m an empath, remember?” He chuckled. “No, I can’t read your thoughts, but your emotions are pretty telling right now.”
“Yeah. I’ve never been known to keep a lid on things.” Claire pressed a hand to her forehead. “So, your dad is a seventh son. What’s his gift?”
“He has the gift of foresight,” Daniel said.
“And what does that mean, exactly?” She wasn’t up-to-date on all her super-special gift terms.
“He has visions regarding the future,” Daniel explained.
“Visions? About the future? Like what?” Sounded like Daddy McClain was just as nutty as the rest of them.
“He told the first four of us who we would marry, for one thing,” Adam said.
“The four of you?” She looked over at Daniel. “You already know who you’re marrying? So why have you been making bread dough with me when . . .” It dawned on her then, and she shook her head. “Um, no. No, I don’t think so. I think . . . Frank, touch my shoulder again, would ya?”
He chuckled and rested his hand on her arm. Once again, she was filled with calm, and she took a deep breath.
“I hope you all realize that I’m trying to be reasonable here,” she began. “I’m just not used to being told that I’m supposed to marry some guy I don’t even know but who has powers that scare me.”
Daniel leaned forward, his face lined with concern. “I wish we could make this easier for you somehow, Claire. But you’re not being forced into anything—you can leave if you want. It’s your choice.”
“I can leave?” She didn’t know why that surprised her. It’s not like there were locks on the gate or handcuffs on her wrists or anything.
“Of course.” He stood up and motioned toward the door. “You can go right now.”
Her first instinct was to take off running right then, but she was so relaxed from Frank’s touch, she really couldn’t, and plus, there was something about the look in Daniel’s eyes that froze her to the spot. He desperately wanted her to believe him. She didn’t have to be an empath to see that. Why? Why was her opinion so important to him?
“I’ll stay, at least for now,” she said after a long moment of deliberation. “And I’m trying to believe you. It’s just . . . I can believe you and still be scared, can’t I? There are lots of scary true things out there.”
“Yes, there are,” Daniel said. “But we’re not one of them. We’re just ordinary people put in an extraordinary circumstance. That’s all.”
“You said Melissa had a hard time with this at first. Did she freak out like this?”
“Pretty close, but we didn’t have to call out Frank.” Adam chuckled. “In retrospect, we probably should have, though.”
“What can I say—I’m a pretty useful fellow to have around,” Frank said dryly. He lifted his hand from Claire’s shoulder and sat down next to her instead. “I can pull off your fears and help calm you, but it’s up to you to decide if those fears come back,” he told her.
She nodded. That made sense.
“Guys, I think it’s time for us to go,” Adam said. “Daniel and Claire have a lot to talk about, and we’re just clutter at this point.”
Daniel looked around at his brothers. “Thanks for coming over.”
“We couldn’t ignore the Bat-Signal,” Gideon said, and they filed out of the house.
“So, where were the other brothers?” Claire asked once they were alone.
“Someone’s got to stay with the boys,” Daniel replied. He swiveled his chair around to meet her gaze directly. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head. “I’m not really sure. I’m trying to be. Is that a good first step?”
“I think it’s a great first step, and I appreciate that you’re even trying. I don’t know if I could do the same if I was in your position.”
“The thing is . . .” She wondered how much she should even say. Was it stupid to make herself even more vulnerable after everything she’d just learned? “I was already wishing I was a part of the McClain family. You have something here that I’ve never seen before—in fact, I was thinking how it’s almost magical. So I really shouldn’t be freaking out—I should be saying, ‘I knew it!’ like I’m in some kind of Disney movie.” She paused. “You’re not going to tell me that this is really Santa’s workshop, are you? Because I can’t go quite that far.”
Daniel laughed. “No, this isn’t Santa’s workshop, although my dad does put on the red suit from time to time. And we do have enough boys here to be the elves. And my mom would make a great Mrs. Claus . . .” He laughed again. “Just kidding. No more big surprises, Claire. You pretty much know everything now.”
Just one pretty major thing left to discuss. “And we’re supposed to get married?”
Daniel looked down at his hands, which dangled loosely between his knees as he leaned forward. “My father saw a vision of the two of us getting married, yes. That did happen.”
“And how do you feel about that?” she asked. She had to know—was he hating on every minute of this idea? Was that why he’d acted so strangely when they met?
“All I had to do was take one look at you, and I was sold,” he replied. “Claire, I’d have feelings for you even without my father’s vision. You’re absolutely amazing—from your sense of humor to your desire for fairness to your incredible smile. I’d choose you a million times even if fate or destiny—whatever you want to call it—hadn’t already chosen you for me.”
Her breath caught in her chest at his words. He felt that way? Had anyone ever felt that way about her in her whole life? “But then . . . when we met . . . why did you act that way toward me?”
He exhaled long and loud. “When we shook hands, I felt the pain you carry in your chest, and it overwhelmed me. I don’t usually feel other people’s emotional pain, just their physical pain. I had no idea what was happening to me. All I knew was that the most beautiful girl in the world had been badly, badly hurt, and I had no idea how to fix it. I wanted to stop it and save you and protect you from it ever happening again, and I didn’t have a single tool to do that with.”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears. At first, she was angry that they were there, and she wiped them away. But then she recognized what was happening—a little door in her heart was opening up, and if she let it, she might discover something wonderful on the other side. “It’s hard for me to believe that someone would want to protect me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “My entire life, people have only hurt me.”
“Not anymore.” Daniel reached out and took her hand. It was damp with tears, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Claire, if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you and protecting you in every way I can. Z could probably take me in a parking lot fight, but you’ve got that handled, so I think we’d be all right.” He searched her gaze with his. “I know we just met—we McClains tend to move rather quickly. It’
s one of our many character flaws that we have in order to balance out our awesomeness. What do you say? Is it possible?”
She was so knocked off her feet, it was hard to put together a coherent sentence. “I’ve been shown tonight that a whole lot of things are possible,” she said at last. “And I’ve been pretty intrigued by you too, Daniel McClain.”
“You have?” He grinned. “Just what is it about me that intrigues you?”
“Well, you have amazing eyes, for starters.”
“Oh? I can’t see them for myself—I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“And you seem like a pretty decent fellow. When you’re not being a jerk.”
“I’m a very decent fellow. And the jerk thing is pretty nearly under wraps.”
“Good. And there’s one other thing.”
“I’m all ears.”
“No, I’d actually say your ears are a fairly balanced size.” She pressed her lips together for a second. “It’s your arms.”
He looked down in confusion. “My arms?”
“Yes. I don’t know if it’s from baling hay or what, but I’ve noticed that they seem pretty strong.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty strong.”
“And . . . I’ve been wondering what they’d feel like around me.”
He grinned again and came to his feet. “You have, have you?”
Her heart rate sped up, and she wondered what she’d just done. “Yeah.”
He took her by the hands, pulled her up, and slid his arms around her waist. “Like this?”
“Yep.” Very much just like that. She looked up into his eyes. “You don’t have a gift of making people fall in love, do you?”
“Nope. Whatever you’re feeling right now has nothing to do with any power I might have.”
“Hmm. I don’t know about that.” She took a step closer, and his arms tightened. “I think you have quite a lot of power over me, Daniel McClain.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and her theory was proven correct.
