Switching on the lights and the computers, she made a fresh pot of coffee, just how her boss liked it. Double strength. If she drank more than one cup, she’d be sprinting around the three house viewings she had arranged, jabbering like a maniac.
The coffee didn’t have the same effect on Mr. Preston lately. He could drink two or three cups and still look tired and overworked, despite hardly being in the office.
The cloud grew darker. Was her boss dying? He’d always kept his personal life private, but she knew he was a bear shifter with no mate. Which sadly, often meant a life cut short. Shifters thrived when they were surrounded by family and those they loved.
Fleur took her cup of coffee to her desk and sat down. After taking a couple of sips, her brain buzzed like a swarm of angry bees, but her brain cells were firing sufficiently for her to pull up the map of Woodacre and zoom in. She looked at the highlighted area Mr. Preston had sent her and then looked closely at the area where they’d found Doran. In the images before her, the trees were in full leaf, which might be why there was nothing visible in them. The canopy had made the area impenetrable to either camera or eye. However, when they’d flown over last night, even in the fading light there had been something, some kind of broken up structure in the area marked by Mr. Preston.
We need to go and have another look, her bear said and then looked toward the door. Mr. Preston is approaching.
Fleur stood up at her desk, straightened her jacket and smoothed her hands over here smart black pants before going to open the door for her boss. “Good morning, Mr. Preston. I’ve made fresh coffee.”
“Thank you, Fleur. I’d love a cup of nice strong coffee. Just the thing to perk me up.” He shrugged off his coat, and Fleur helped him. He’d lost weight. More weight than he could afford to lose, along with his muscle tone which left his bones angular, as if they might poke out of his skin.
Fleur swallowed her emotions and hung Mr. Preston’s coat up by the door before crossing the office to the coffee machine. “Here we go. Nice and hot.” It was a stupid thing to say since the coffee was always hot, but she was stuck for words. Unusual since she and Mr. Preston had gotten to know each other well over the last few months.
“If you could put it on my desk.” Mr. Preston sat down awkwardly, his hand going to his right side as if protecting himself.
“Is everything all right?” Fleur asked, sliding into the seat across the desk from her boss, where clients usually sat. Mr. Preston had helped countless people buy and sell their properties in Bear Creek and the surrounding area. He was part of the community. “If there’s anything I can do to help.”
“You are doing so much already, Fleur. I’m lucky to have you here.” He picked up his coffee cup and took a big gulp before exhaling. “No one else gets the coffee just right.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.” Fleur smiled kindly, trying to hide her unease as Mr. Preston studied her for a moment.
“I know I’ve been secretive and evasive the last couple of months.” He inhaled and his body shook with the effort. “I’ve never been one for sharing my troubles.”
“Make this an exception.” Fleur nodded in encouragement. “Please.”
“I’ve been diagnosed with cancer. I don’t want to bore you with the details.” He looked down at his coffee cup, which he held in two hands. Two thin hands. The knuckles looked as if they were about to burst through his papery white skin.
“I’m so sorry.” Fleur paused as she sorted through the many questions in her head.
Is he going to die? Her bear’s profound sadness was difficult for Fleur to contain.
He’ll tell us when he’s ready, Fleur replied. Although she wanted to ask that exact question.
“Is it treatable?” Fleur asked gently.
Mr. Preston nodded. “They think so.” He drew in a deep breath and his brow creased like a crumbled piece of paper. “But sometimes I wonder what the point is. I have no mate, no family of my own. I get up each day and go through a routine to get myself out of the door, only to come back to an empty house and an empty life.”
“You can’t give up,” Fleur said firmly. “You’re still young enough to find your mate.” The color rose in Fleur’s cheeks. “What if she’s out there somewhere and you don’t meet her because you gave up?”
Mr. Preston gave a lopsided smile. “You have such passion, Fleur. I hope you meet your mate one day soon. I’d hate for a woman like you to suffer as I have suffered.”
Fleur shuddered as she thought of Mr. Preston’s lonely life. “I have met my mate. I met him yesterday.” She didn’t intend to tell Mr. Preston she’d met her mate at Woodacre. She didn’t want him to know about the treasure hidden underground. It was Doran’s secret, and she intended to keep it.
So we are keeping our secrets from Mr. Preston, just like he kept his secret from you, her bear observed.
This is different, Fleur insisted.
Is it? her bear asked.
“I’m so happy for you, Fleur.” Mr. Preston rose from his seat and came around the desk to hug her. As she put her arms around his frail body, she swallowed down a choked sob.
“Please have the treatment.” She hugged him tighter. “I’ll visit every day and help you through it.”
“Thanks, Fleur. But what I really need is for you to be here. If I know the office is under your command, then I will rest a little easier.” Mr. Preston released Fleur and went back to his own seat, where he sank down with some effort. Pain flashed across his face, but then he smoothed out his features. “So how did things go at Woodacre yesterday? Mr. Devizes needs to sell quickly. As he reminded me this morning when he called for an update.”
“We were out of luck, the light faded too quickly. If it’s okay, I’d like to go back again this evening. On my own time, of course.” Fleur then made a bold statement. “I’ll find a buyer for the land before the week is out, I’m certain.”
“Really?” Mr. Preston asked.
“Yes. I think it just needs to be presented in the right way.” She cringed inwardly. She wasn’t lying to Mr. Preston, but she wasn’t being completely truthful either. Although, she was going to have to present this deal in just the right way to get Doran to purchase Woodacre from Mr. Devizes. She had a feeling dragons could be stubborn. But she could be very persuasive.
Mr. Preston leaned back in his seat, looking a little brighter. “I knew when I hired you, I wouldn’t regret it, Fleur. I had a feeling about you.”
“Thanks for putting your trust in me.” Fleur got up from her seat. “More coffee?”
“I do trust you, Fleur. And yes, more coffee.” He stretched out his legs under his desk and leaned back in his seat. “I’ve spent so much of my life sitting in this chair. If you do one thing for me, Fleur, I’d ask you to go out and enjoy your life. Every minute of it.”
“I will.” As she handed Mr. Preston his second cup of coffee, she added, “As long as you promise me you will do everything to get healthy again. I want you at my wedding.”
Mr. Preston gave a tired smile. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Chapter Eleven – Doran
Confused and alone. He opened his eyes to stare at a ceiling he didn’t recognize and an empty space in the bed where his mate should be.
Was yesterday a dream? Was he still out of his own time in a world he didn’t understand? Or had he drunk too much ale or eaten something equally intoxicating? Just like the time when he and Edric were out roaming the mountains and had eaten some mushrooms that had given them the strangest of hallucinations.
However, as he lifted his head and scented the air, the scent of his mate lingered. She was real. This new world was real.
And someone was cooking bacon.
His stomach clenched in hunger and his mouth watered in anticipation. He hadn’t smelled or tasted bacon for so very long.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he dragged his body from the soft bed made with some kind of
soft squishy stuff, not like the straw-filled mattresses of his own bed. He bounced a couple of times on the edge of the mattress. Not all things had changed for the worse. The vehicles might be horseless and noisy, but the bed where he would claim his mate was definitely preferable to the slightly musty mattress in his room…
A glimpse of his old room appeared in his head. It was like looking through a window as you passed by. One fleeting moment the image was there and then it was gone, replaced by a blank wall.
But it was there, his dragon told him.
Yes, if it appeared once, it meant the memory was there inside his head, he just had to find it. Or find a way to tap into his memories. Doran needed to remember.
He quickly dressed in the clothes Jax had loaned him. This morning the fabric didn’t feel so strange, and when he looked in the mirror, the reflection looking back at him was more familiar.
Would he simply get used to this new world and forget about his past?
You can’t forget what you can’t remember, his dragon told him helpfully.
Doran turned from the mirror and crossed the room, his hand rested on the doorknob for a moment before he pulled it open, ready to face whatever the twenty-first century had to throw at him.
Sliding his hand lightly along the banister, he ran down the stairs and strode into the kitchen.
“Morning,” Tansy called brightly. “Sit down, I’ll dish you up a good breakfast.”
“Then you can come and help me in the vegetable garden if you want,” Joe said, eying up his house guest warily. “Or is that beneath a dragon shifter?”
There was a twinkle in Joe’s eye and Doran warmed to his future father-in-law. For despite Fleur’s words about not needing marriage, he was determined to make her his wife.
Doran pulled out a chair and sat down, his arms spread out on the table as Tansy placed a large plate of food before him. His stomach growled like a hungry bear. “Thank you.” He picked up his knife and fork. “I would be honored to work alongside you in the garden.” He lifted his head and caught a stray thought. “I believe I used to work in the fields.”
“Good. There’s nothing like good honest work to lift the soul.” Joe looked thoughtfully at Doran. “Perhaps doing something familiar might help tap into your memories.” He tapped his forefinger to his head.
“Perhaps.” Doran cut up a piece of sausage and added some egg before he opened his mouth and savored the taste. His eyes dilated in near ecstasy. “This is the best I’ve ever tasted.”
Joe grinned and tapped his arm. “Only because you can’t remember any other breakfast.”
Tansy laughed and cuffed her husband across the ear like a mother chastising a child. Doran’s mouth stopped working at his food. A memory, bittersweet and welcome of his own mother, drifted across his mind. This time he caught hold of it and hung on with all the force he could summon.
His mother was teaching him about seeds and how they grew. She wore long flowing robes and a cloak with a silver pin at the neck. Her coppery hair was coiled around her head, with long strands loose down her back. Her eyes were emerald green as she smiled at him.
“This is life. Right here in your hand.” She placed a seed in his hand, and he looked down at it. But all he saw was a gray-colored seed.
“All it needs is the dark damp soil, the warmth of the sun and water.” She planted the seed in rich dark earth and covered it over, before pouring on water.
Then the memory was gone.
Did the seed grow? his dragon asked.
I don’t know. Doran looked up. Tansy and Joe were watching him closely, as his breakfast went cold.
“You remembered something.” Tansy set a cup of dark coffee down on the table, then sat in a chair next to her husband.
“My mother.” He choked on the words as emotion welled within him. “I was a small child, and she was teaching me how to plant seeds. She had a deep understanding of nature.”
She was a witch. The words blew into his mind like a breeze through the trees on a summer day, soft, rustling the leaves but not bending the boughs.
Was the Ancient Slumber spell cast by his own mother? Was she responsible for putting him to sleep for so long?
“Doran.” Tansy touched his hand and brought him back to the warm kitchen and the smell of bacon. “You should eat.”
He picked up his knife and fork, not realizing he’d dropped them on his plate. Slowly, he picked up a piece of bacon and raised it to his mouth. As the crisp salty goodness washed over his taste buds, it grounded him back in the present, and the past became a shadow once more.
“Tell me about your garden.” Doran lifted his eyes and was met by a nod of understanding from Joe.
“I grow most of our food,” Joe began. “It started off as a necessity. With five children to feed, we often struggled to make ends meet.”
Doran listened to Joe and Tansy as they talked about their family and the house where they had raised their brood of children. He warmed to them with each memory they shared of the family they loved. They were good people. People who would do anything for their children or their neighbor.
Or any stray dragon that might come their way, his dragon added.
Were we good? Doran asked. Or were we put to sleep because we were a threat to be extinguished?
What does your heart tell you? His dragon puffed smoke in Doran’s mind, reminding him of the cloud that surrounded his memories.
My heart tells me we were good. My heart tells me we were put into Ancient Slumber so that our bloodline would survive an approaching threat.
Mine, too. His dragon stretched. It will be good to work the earth once more and feel a connection to the earth that beats like a heart beneath our feet.
Doran grinned. Since when did you get so poetical?
Since the memory of our mother. I can hear her voice in my head. The words are not always clear, but she is there, speaking soft melodic words.
Doran closed his eyes, but he only found silence.
“Shall we get going?” Joe asked as Doran finished his breakfast and drank the last of his coffee.
“Yes.” Doran nodded and got up from the table. He picked up his plate and took it to the sink, just as he’d seen Joe do.
“I’ll do that.” Tansy took the plate from him. “You go and help Joe in the garden. He could do with the company.”
“I’ll pick you some strawberries.” Joe kissed his wife’s cheek as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“It’s too early for strawberries.” She kissed him back.
“I planted some in the greenhouse and the last couple of days have been sunny enough to ripen two or three.” He pulled away from her.
“You are full of surprises even after all these years.” She smiled warmly, her eyes caressing her husband. Would Fleur look at her mate in the same way even after they had spent years together, raising children and enduring what life threw at them?
Of course, Fleur is our mate, his dragon told him.
A mate with a strong will and a mind of her own.
And a career.
“So, Fleur,” Joe said as he handed a hoe to Doran.
“I am a lucky man.” Doran grasped the handle of the hoe in his right hand. Something that had not changed. He recalled using a similar tool in the gardens surrounding his home.
“You are. Very lucky. She’s worked hard to make her career a success.” Joe pointed to a row of potatoes, their green leaves thick and lush poking out of the banked earth surrounding them. “We’ll start here.”
“I am proud of her.” Doran poked the hoe into the ground and pulled it back toward him. Working in a steady rhythm, he weeded the first row of potatoes and began on the second. “She has told me she does not wish to give up her career to have children.”
“Has she?” Joe weeded thoughtfully for a couple of minutes. “She has always worked hard and had her mind set on making something of herself. We have always supported her.”
Doran looked up. “I understand. I might not have my memories, but I do know in my world women did not wear pants and pursue careers. But this is not my world. If you are telling me to support my mate in what she wants to do with her life, then I can assure you, I will. I have no wish to cause disquiet.”
Joe grinned. “Disquiet would not be good.”
“Of course, one day we will have children.” Doran raised his eyes and watched Joe’s reaction. “Or does Fleur not want to bear a child?”
“She wants a family, just like any other shifter.” Joe sighed and rested on his hoe as he looked out across to the mountains in the distance. “I believe her views on her career and having children might be my fault. When they were children, we never had money to spare. She didn’t get the new toy every other girl wanted for Christmas. She often wore thrift store clothes…”
“I see. She wants her children to have a better life.” Doran winced at his choice of words. “I mean no disrespect. I should have said a different life.”
Joe smiled sadly. “No, you were probably right the first time.”
“I do not know Fleur. Not well. But I do know her heart and that heart is filled with love for you and the rest of her family. She is fiercely loyal and protective of you. She also told me how happy her childhood was. You might not have given her all the material things a child might think they want, however, you gave her love. A love and a sense of family that she cherishes.”
Joe slapped Doran on the shoulder. “Thank you, Doran. And I think you know Fleur better than you think. You certainly understand her more than most people.”
“She has been raised well.” Doran looked down at the rich tilled earth. “What’s next?”
“You like working on the land.” Joe led Doran to a small patch of corn. “We weed and then water.”
“I do like the land. Since I woke up, this is the first time I’ve felt at peace, as if I belong.” He dipped the hoe in the ground and dragged it toward him. “I think I was a farmer.”
Hidden Dragon Page 8
