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CnC 4 A Harvest of Bones

Page 21

by Yasmine Galenorn


  Kip’s “warrior” face disappeared and he perked up. “Yeah, an’ I can get all my friends to sign it.”

  “Whoa, slow down there,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the splints we use now aren’t like casts used to be. You’re going to have to pass on having friends autograph it.”

  Kip’s expression fell. “Aw gee. Can I keep it when they take it off?” He appealed to me. “Mom?”

  Oh yeah, my son was already on the mend. “We’ll see what we can do,” I said dryly, wondering how to preserve a splint so it didn’t stink to high heaven or grow moldy. No doubt, I’d find out if it could be done, one way or another.

  The med tech took Kip away to be fitted with the splint. While he was gone, I had a little chat with the doctor. I told him exactly what happened: Kip thought he saw our missing cat in the branches of an oak tree in our backyard, climbed up, got startled by something, and fell. Period. End of story.

  He nodded. “If your cat’s still missing in a week or so, call me. I’ve got a batch of kittens at home. We adopted a cat and didn’t know she was pregnant and now we’ve got eight little mouths mewing at us.”

  I headed back to the waiting room where Miranda was impatiently flipping through an old copy of Discovery Magazine. She glanced up, her eyes red like she’d been crying.

  “Your brother’s going to be okay.” I settled in next to her and she dropped the magazine back on the table and leaned against my shoulder. “They’re putting a splint on his arm, and he’ll be in a sling for awhile. It’s a clean break, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”

  “I love him, even if he is a pain,” she murmured. “I don’t want to see anything happen to him.”

  I kissed the top of her head—no small feat since she was almost as tall as I was—and gently tucked my arm around her. “We can’t ever be totally safe, honey, but we do our best. Kids get into scrapes all the time, regardless of whether it’s a ghost or a faerie or the neighborhood bully.”

  “Did I?” She looked at me, her brilliant brown eyes dark and flashing.

  I laughed. “You? Are you kidding? When you were three, you fell down the steps at our old house and banged up your nose. Two years later, you tried to climb out on the roof to watch the stars. I had the horrible feeling you were in danger and ran into your bedroom. You were trying to get out the window. I’d left it cracked for fresh air and you were doing your best to open it.”

  She blushed, but looked pleased. “I don’t remember that at all.”

  “Well, it’s true. Of course, you weren’t strong enough to manage it but still … that’s when the safety screens went on. I never told your Dad, though. He would have been furious and would have ended your interest in stargazing.” My daughter had been watching the skies since she could toddle.

  Randa closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep as we waited for the doctor’s return. An hour later I had dozed off myself, but the sound of my name startled me awake. The doctor waited until I’d rubbed my eyes, then sat down next to me.

  “You can take him home in a few minutes. No strenuous activity for a few days. Keep him in a sling until we say otherwise. No climbing trees or any other dangerous stunts until it’s healed. The nurse will give you a home health-care sheet that explains how to keep the arm clean and how to take care of the splint. Take him to your doctor on Monday, and if there’s any noticeable swelling in his fingers or above the top of his cast, bring him back to the E.R. immediately.”

  “What about pain medication?”

  “Children’s Tylenol or Motrin. We gave him a mild muscle relaxant so he’ll sleep easier tonight, but that’s as strong as he needs.”

  I thanked him, took the handouts, and stuffed them in my purse. We waited for another fifteen minutes until the nurse wheeled Kipling out. He looked tired, but excited. Broken bones and bruises and dangerous encounters with the unknown always seemed to perk him up. I had little doubt that he’d end up an explorer or eco-adventurer.

  By the time we were back in the car it was almost eleven o’clock. I drove directly to Joe’s place and dropped off the kids, making sure Kip was as comfortable as possible before heading for the door.

  “I have to go back home for the cats and clothes. Watch TV, have a snack, and for God’s sake, don’t go anywhere, don’t open the door for anybody, and don’t get into anything. And don’t take off that sling.” I glanced at my watch. “I’ll be back in half-an-hour. Randa, watch out for your brother.”

  She nodded solemnly. She could tell when I’d reached meltdown level and I was dangerously close. I forced myself to drive the speed limit on the way to our house, hoping it was still in one piece.

  The lights were blazing, but I remembered that I hadn’t bothered to turn them off before leaving for the hospital. I gingerly made my way up the front porch and unlocked the door. As I slid inside, I stopped and listened. Silence. Nothing except a sudden meow as Nigel came rushing down the stairs. He entwined around my legs, happy to see me. I tiptoed into the kitchen, wary but hopeful. With a little luck, everything would be in order. A quick glance around showed me nothing was out of place. So far so good. But what about the backyard?

  I peeked out the kitchen window. A faint sparkle of light here and there but at least the Will o’ the Wisps were no longer swarming. I couldn’t help but wonder what else might be prowling around under the cover of night. At least one spirit kitty that I knew of.

  Before retrieving the cat carriers from the back porch I refilled the dish of dry food we had placed just under the porch steps in case Sammy might be around. Something had been eating the food. Probably raccoons, but as long as there was a chance it might be her, I’d keep it full.

  As I set the dish on the ground, a flicker of movement caught my attention. There, to my left, shimmering and beautiful and graceful, sat Mab. She sidled up to me, purring loudly. As I let myself tune into her energy, I knew—on a gut level—that she hadn’t meant for Kip’s accident to happen. The poor cat’s aura was rippling with waves of loneliness. She’d probably saw what she thought was a chance to make some sort of contact. Mab looked up at me, a winsome expression in her eyes.

  I tentatively reached out, but my hand passed right through the translucent tortoiseshell’s side. I sighed. “I’m sorry, little one. I can’t pet you. We aren’t exactly in the same world.”

  She gave me a solemn stare but a moth caught her attention and she pranced around, chasing the luminous white insect. She would have caught it, but her paw swept through the wings and the moth flew off, unaware that it had been marked as ghost food.

  “Have you seen Samantha?” I asked, kneeling down to get a better look at her. “We miss her. If you can help her get home, I’d appreciate it.”

  I could swear Mab understood me. She purped and blinked, and something in the air shifted. Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was because tomorrow night was almost All Hallows Eve … whatever the case, in that instant I knew White Deer had been right. Mab was as lost as my Samantha. She couldn’t find her way back to Brigit. The cats had traded places and both were lost in the slip-stream of time.

  “We’ll try to help you, baby. Meanwhile, if you see Sammy, tell her we love her,” I said, trying to hold back my tears. Reluctantly, I left her, going inside to pack an overnight bag.

  I gathered Nanna’s journal, the kids’ homework and school clothes, then managed to hunt down Nigel and his sisters. They protested their incarceration, but I ignored their indignant mews and managed to herd them into their carriers, promptly depositing them along with their food, litter box, and the rest of my gear, into the back of the Mountaineer.

  After arming the security system I took one last look around and locked the door. Tomorrow we’d finish this. Tomorrow we’d try to put Brigit to rest, and to build a bridge over which Mab and Sammy could cross.

  Fourteen

  From Brigit’s Journal:

  The end of secrecy is almost upon us. Today is the day, and Mother Mary, I pray
that they welcome the news. If not, there’s nothing left for me to do but pick up the ticket I bought, and go home. Thank heaven my parents will never know what happened—how could I face them? At least my cousin loves me. Mary Kathryn will be sorely disappointed in my behavior, but she’ll take me in and help me rebuild my life. Oh. I can’t help but hope there’s no need for that. The Missus might take pity on me … on us. She treats me kindly enough, if with a firm hand.

  But Mr. Edward, somehow I don’t think we’ll find much comfort in his words. With no love in his heart even for his children. how can I expect sympathy or kindness for myself? Mary Kathryn is right—I’m a fool and a romantic. When I first came to this country. I had such high hopes. Now they’re all but dashed on the rocks.

  TECHNICALLY, JOE OWNED a condo, but it was really a unit in a renovated apartment building on the outskirts of Chiqetaw, near the turnoff that led out to Klickavail Valley. He had a spacious one-bedroom. Although decorated in utilitarian fashion, it was clean and neat. I had never seen any sign that he reveled in his bachelorhood. No pinups, no beer bottles on the floor or dirty clothes scattered around. The refrigerator even had food in it, food that hadn’t gone the way of the mold patrol.

  When I returned with the cats and our clothes, Randa helped me carry them up to the apartment. As soon as we were inside, I asked her to set up the litter box while I made up the sofa bed for Kip. Randa and I would share the bedroom. I rummaged through the linen closet and came up with clean sheets and warm blankets, then tucked Kip in for the night, propping pillows on either side to keep him from rolling over onto his broken arm. He was out like a light before I could even kiss him good night.

  “Poor little guy,” I whispered, staring at his sleeping form.

  Randa fed the cats, then leaned against me, watching her brother. “He seems okay.”

  “He is.”

  She yawned. “I’m going to bed. Are you staying up?”

  “For a little while,” I said, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She headed into the bedroom and I settled down next to Kip, desperate for a few minutes when I didn’t have to do anything, or worry about anybody. I leaned my head back and absently petted Nebula, who crawled into my lap.

  “Where’s your mama?” I whispered, thinking about Sammy. Did she think we’d abandoned her? Was she afraid?

  As if seeking to comfort me, Nebula licked my hand and began to purr, pawing at me to finish scratching behind her ears. I sighed and looked around for the other two. Nigel and Noël were milling through the rooms, exploring the various cupboards and hidey-holes they might be able to squirrel themselves into. Nebula began to groom, purring against my stomach. After a few minutes, I patted her rump and gently deposited her on the blanket by Kip’s feet. My night wasn’t over quite yet. I slipped into the kitchen and gave Joe a call.

  He was in. The station had been free of calls except to help an older lady who had fallen in her bathtub and dislocated a shoulder.

  “Kip’s sleeping. He’ll be okay. He has to wear the splint for six weeks but the doctor said he should heal up quick.”

  “Take a hot bath, then sleep in tomorrow morning,” Joe said. “I’ll be off shift around 1:00 P.M., though I have some errands to run. But good news—since I worked through part of my vacation, I’m taking another three days off. You headed back to your place after you wake up?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to call Murray as soon as I get off the phone with you. We were supposed to meet Harlow tomorrow morning at my place anyway, so I’m going to ask White Deer to tag along. She and I can work on exorcising the lot.”

  “I’ll meet you around one or so, then. Love you, Em. Sleep tight. And be careful!”

  I slowly replaced the receiver. Joe was an incredible man. Not every boyfriend would let his girlfriend and her kids and their cats descend on his place with such short notice. Hell, even fewer would be able to handle the baggage that came attached to someone like me—what with kids and cats and the demands of the shop and spirits constantly dropping in. Joe was the gold ring on my carousel, and I wasn’t about to let go.

  After a quick call to ask Murray to bring White Deer with her the next morning, I flipped on the bathroom light in place of a night-light, then padded into the bedroom and changed into a light chemise that I’d left at Joe’s. My mind was mush and I needed sleep. Big time. I slid under the covers and the minute my head touched the pillow, I was down for the count.

  HALLOWEEN—AND MY birthday—dawned with a stormy forecast, but Kip was feeling bright and chipper come morning. While I made breakfast, he admired his splint. I knew as soon as the novelty wore off he’d start to complain, so tried to enjoy the peace while it lasted. Randa set the table and I parceled out the oatmeal and bacon. After hailing me with a round of “happy birthdays” and kisses, they settled in to eat breakfast.

  “Mom, can I still go to Tony’s party today after school?”

  Tony, one of Kip’s friends, was having a big Halloween party and it seemed far safer than letting Kip run around trick-or-treating. He’d been working on his mummy costume for weeks. Thank God I’d remembered to bring it with me last night. It wouldn’t be hard to adjust to his splint.

  “Of course you can. I just want you to promise to be careful.” I looked at Randa, who was still groggy-eyed. “Do you have anything planned today?”

  She nodded. “We’re having a harvest dance and food drive at school this afternoon. Gunner was going to take me, but he’s too worried about his folks to go. He spends every afternoon at the hospital. So Lori and I are going together. Nobody asked her and she’s bummed out.”

  That figured. Lori was a very caring, smart young woman but she was a little chubby and the ninth-grade boys acted like she didn’t exist. Her parents didn’t help matters much. Her mother was stick thin and bitched about Lori’s weight constantly. I knew because Randa told me, and having met Mrs. Thomas a few times, I had little doubt that Lori received no emotional support at home. It made me mad, but there was little I could do except bolster her self-esteem whenever she came over to visit.

  “That’s too bad, honey. I’m glad you’re being a good friend. And the food drive is a great idea. Do you need money?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I almost forgot. We’re holding a raffle and there’s going to be a bake sale to raise money for the Bread & Butter House.”

  I handed her a ten. “Are you guys ready to go? Did you feed the cats?”

  Kip nodded, grabbing his backpack. “Yeah, Randa helped me.” He listed a little to the left when he slung the heavy book bag over his shoulder. Luckily, he was left-handed like me, so would still be able to write.

  After popping the last bite of my toaster pastry into my mouth, I made sure I had everything I needed—keys, purse, money, Nanna’s journal—and followed the kids out to the car. I dropped them off at school and headed to the animal shelter, where I was once again disappointed, then dropped down to the shop for a quick check-in.

  The windows were gorgeous. Lana and Cinnamon had worked their butts off to make them both spooky and inviting, with pumpkin teapots and spiderwebs dripping like lace and baskets of apples and wheat adorning the displays. They’d even fixed up a miniature tea party diorama—taking the bobble-head jack-o’-lantern, a miniature scarecrow, and a beautiful faerie princess, and arranging them as a Halloween tea party around a giant toadstool. Enchanted, I bustled through the door, only to find Cinnamon in the tearoom, her head in her hands, bawling her eyes out.

  “What’s wrong? Oh my God, were we robbed again?” I glanced around frantically but nothing seemed out of place.

  “No, nothing like that.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle it, but I don’t know if I can.”

  “What’s wrong? Cinnamon, talk to me.” I slipped into a chair by her side. “Cinnamon?”

  She sucked in a deep breath and, voice quavering, said, “My boyfriend came over last night and he told me the truth. He’s found somebody else
and doesn’t want anything to do with me or the kids! I’ve spent months trying to cheer him up while he was in jail and now he dumps me!” And with that, she burst into fresh tears and fell into my arms.

  I patted her back and smoothed her hair, wondering how many times she’d cried over this loser. She was a smart girl, but she still hadn’t learned the hardest lesson of love—you can’t change someone unless they want to change.

  After a moment, I gently pushed her away and took her hands. “Dry your eyes, chickie, and listen to me. You take him to court and get an order for him to pay child support. And then you make a new life for yourself, without him. There are a lot of good men out there, men who will treat you and your children right. It just takes time and discrimination to find them.”

  She gulped down her tears. “But I love him—”

  “And he treats you like dirt. Is it worth it?”

  With a slow shake of the head, she said, “My mother told me the same thing, only she used language I don’t think you want repeated in your store. She hates him. Maybe that’s why I’ve stood up for him … but now …” She hung her head, her cheeks flushed.

  “Now he wants somebody else. Fine, let him go. But make sure he fulfills his obligation to his children.” I couldn’t help but think of my own child-support battles with my ex, and Roy could easily afford the payments. Why did so many men run out on their responsibilities? A lot of men were wonderful fathers and provided for their children, divorced or not, but there were still far too many mothers who scrimped to feed their kids while their ex-husbands lived fancy free.

  Lana sashayed into the shop, took one look at Cinnamon, and said, “He dumped you, didn’t he? Get rid of the bugger.”

  I tipped Cinnamon’s chin up. “It hurts now, but it’s for the best. Lana, can you mind the shop by yourself today? I’m not expecting a flurry of customers given that it’s Halloween.”

 

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