by Anne B. Cole
“Minnie moved the day after I gave her the ring,” Roxana confirmed. “Is there anything else?” Her words hung heavy in the stillness.
“I can think of nothing more.” Katarina’s thumbs began to twiddle.
Sam watched as Katarina glanced at Gretta apprehensively. If the spell held true, Gretta might never see her grandmother again. He watched hurt spread across her face. Then her lips pressed into a thin line of determination.
“Well, then.” Roxana turned to them. “There is more we need to learn. Do you wish to go back to Anya and Lorenzo?”
Gretta nodded and then met Sam’s gaze. “We could pick up where we left off.”
“Are you up to this?” He searched her face, pushing a stray hair out of her eyes.
“I’m fine. Come with me?”
Sam didn’t want her to go but knew she would. Having no choice, he took her hand.
“We’re ready. Send us back to the exact moment that we left,” he announced.
Gretta elbowed him.
“I-we don’t want to miss anything.” Sam watched her blush as she gazed down at her sneakers, so much like Anya.
“I will return you as close to that minute as possible.” Roxana failed to cover a smile.
“Timing is everything.” Sam pressed Gretta close to his side.
“I’m sure Roxana will time it perfectly,” Gretta added but didn’t pull away.
“Feeling better?” Katarina taunted in her usual condescending tone. “Send them back. We’re wasting time.”
Roxana warned, “You must be careful. Find out anything you can about the curse and the ring. I can only send you to the past. I don’t have the power to bring you back to us. Do you remember how to return?”
“We need to have the desire to come back, focus on ourselves, and then kiss,” Sam replied with confidence.
“Meaningful touch,” Roxana corrected.
“Meaningful touch.” Gretta tilted her head to him.
Sam brushed another stray wisp of hair from her cheek, thinking about touching much more than her face. He shook his head, knowing he shouldn’t be having those thoughts. Roxana smirked as if she knew what he was thinking.
“Yes, well then, do be careful. Remember, you have the ability to guide Lorenzo and Anya’s thoughts and actions to a limited extent. It is important you come back before Lorenzo returns to the navy,” Roxana warned. “Take her hands, Sam. Now, Gretta, think about Anya. Sam, concentrate on Lorenzo.” Mist appeared at their feet, enveloping them to their waists. “Good,” Roxana exclaimed. “Focus on the exact time that you left Anya and Lorenzo.”
Sam glanced at Roxana then turned his attention on Gretta, whose eyes were closed and her chin held high. The mist rose higher, concealing his view of Roxana and Katarina. Sam kissed the top of Gretta’s head as they disappeared.
Chapter 13
Help
Lorenzo leaned forward to steal a quick kiss after helping Anya board the rowboat. Before their lips could touch, Alec jumped in, tipping the vessel hard to the left. Anya sat down quickly, grabbing the sides of the boat as Lorenzo flipped over her straight into the water. Two large hands grasped him by the belt, tossing him back into the boat.
Alec muttered under his breath, then sat in the stern. Peter howled as Lorenzo scrambled to the bow, dripping wet. Stifling a giggle, Anya settled herself beside him. As they approached the shore, Lorenzo and Alec jumped out. Together they heaved the boat onto the sand.
“I’ll return in three weeks, maybe four.” Peter exclaimed to Lorenzo. Alec frowned in dismay. “It will take me that long to find Andre and buy my new ship.”
Lorenzo took Anya’s hand and helped her out of the boat. Peter leaned against one oar, eyeing Anya from head to toe. “I will help you find your navy ship if that is what you desire,” he added.
Alec pushed his way in between Anya and Lorenzo. Anya peered around Alec’s vast body.
“Yes, my friend. I will seek out the Warren and complete my duty.” Lorenzo looked past Alec to Anya. “In January, I will return to Milos.”
“January,” Anya whispered.
Alec growled, blocking Anya from Lorenzo’s sight.
“Fool.” Peter chuckled, holding his hand out to Lorenzo.
The men readily shook.
Alec muttered as he pushed Peter’s boat back into the water.
“Goodbye, Alec. Goodbye, Anya,” Peter called, tipping his hat to them. “Goodbye, my American friend.”
“Be safe,” Lorenzo called to him.
Alec spoke to Anya in Greek. She nodded once, then headed briskly to town. Lorenzo followed her, running squarely into Alec.
“She has much work. You will earn your stay.” He left no room for question or response.
The two men followed Anya back to the store. Once Anya disappeared inside, Alec stopped and faced Lorenzo. “You will not take her away from Tatiana.”
“It’s Anya’s choice whether she stays in Milos or goes to America,” Lorenzo retorted, clenching his fists at his sides. Despite Alec looming over him, he stood his ground. Anya was the first woman he ever truly loved. No one would stand in his way.
“Anya knows not what is right, what is good for her, for Tatiana.” Alec paused as if waiting for Lorenzo to concede. “Tatiana lost Andreas and Giorgio. Now you dare to take her Anya?” Alec stepped closer, bearing down on him.
Lorenzo’s anger surfaced as he inched closer, his nose to Alec’s chin. “Anya is not your daughter. She can choose to go to America, or we will stay in Milos. Either way, I will return and ask for Tatiana’s blessing.”
Alec fumed. He grabbed Lorenzo by the left arm, wrenching it firmly with one hand. “Don’t cross me, American. Tatiana is not—” He let go of Lorenzo abruptly as Katarina opened the door of the store. Her piercing eyes stared hard at them. It was at this moment that Lorenzo realized Alec might not be his only problem. Katarina liked him even less, but he was grateful to her when Alec stormed away.
“Katarina, you look as beautiful as ever this fine morning.” Lorenzo tipped his head in a slight bow.
The old woman sighed, or perhaps growled, and grabbed his right ear. She led him into the store and tossed him into an empty cane chair at the table. Beside him, a man sat drinking.
“Morning,” Lorenzo acknowledged the man across from him sheepishly.
“Morning. I see you’ve met Katarina,” the man stated slowly although his English was excellent.
“Yes. I’ve known her for a few weeks,” Lorenzo replied, wondering who the man could be.
“What did you do?” he questioned stoically.
“I told her she looked as beautiful as ever.”
“No. What did you do?” The man chuckled and pointed at Lorenzo’s shoulder.
“Oh, damn.” Lorenzo stood and grabbed a cloth off the counter. He pressed it against his wound, which had split open and was bleeding through his shirt.
Alec approached the table. “Victor.” His greeting was candid, cold, and definitely annoyed.
Realizing introductions were not made, Lorenzo put his hand out. “Lorenzo Taylor.”
“Victor Papopolis. I met you here a few weeks ago when you were looking for Tatiana.” The men shook hands, eyeing each other.
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember that day well,” Lorenzo admitted.
“Understandable.” Victor noted the bloodied shoulder then turned to Alec. “Vodka.” Before Alec could respond, Lorenzo stood to fetch the bottle.
“Sit,” Alec commanded in a rough voice. He brought a glass and bottle over to the table and poured Victor a drink. “You will sit until you are healed.” Alec snarled then left.
Lorenzo spied Katarina, who was nodding a stern approval to Alec. Had she influenced Alec’s decision to allow h
im more time to heal? He dismissed the thought when she shot an icy glare in his direction.
“It is Alec that you should be concerned with, not Katarina,” Victor stated flatly.
Lorenzo sighed in agreement. “Place this on my account, Alec.” He grabbed himself a glass. Although he preferred whiskey, vodka would help dull the pain in his shoulder.
Victor poured Lorenzo a drink then held his glass up. “To women.”
Lorenzo found this odd but raised his glass and repeated the toast. “To women. Beautiful women,” he added the last two words as Anya entered the store, carrying a clean shirt.
“Anya,” Victor greeted her, downing his drink in one gulp. He helped himself to another.
Lorenzo’s drink remained untouched.
Anya nodded to Victor. The two exchanged words in Greek as she picked up a clean cloth from the counter. She gave Lorenzo a slight smile before walking to the back room.
Victor downed the second drink.
Lorenzo poured another. “Do you have business with Tatiana?”
Victor finished his third drink. He wiped his lips and chin with the back of a shaky hand. “Tatiana has the power to see the future. Last time I saw her she told me to move on, to find another to love.” He gazed dreamily in the direction of the back room.
“And?” Lorenzo encouraged as he poured.
“And now I have her love right here.” He touched his chest tenderly.
“Tatiana’s?” Lorenzo questioned.
“Yes, she doesn’t know it, but she will love me.”
Lorenzo skeptically raised his full glass. Victor clanked his glass to Lorenzo’s then gulped half of its contents. He reached into his vest pocket and took out a ring. Lorenzo’s eyes fixed on its single, oval-shaped, deep red stone.
Victor scanned the room and then leaned close. “A boy traded this for three goats. What was I going to do with a ring? My Mary is dead. The next day was the first day of spring. Each year, as far back as I can remember, my family has taken one young goat up to—” Victor’s eyes darted. He nudged Lorenzo to fill his half-empty glass. Lorenzo obliged. “To the witch in the caves. Every spring, I take her a goat.”
“The medicine woman?” Lorenzo glanced at his shoulder, remembering that the poultice that helped cure his infection was prepared by a woman who lived in the caves.
“Some call her that. I took the goat to her, as I do every year. Her payments have always been something that I needed, but never asked for. This year, she had me empty my pocket and hold out the contents. The ring was the only thing in my pocket. I held it out, and she muttered some words I did not recognize. Then she told me this, ‘The one who wears this ring will love one who struggles with a loss. This love will be unconditionally returned.’ That is what she said.”
“Do you believe this?” Lorenzo asked when Victor continued to stare at the ring with drunken eyes.
“I believe the witch has powers beyond my understanding.” A grin spread across his face.
Lorenzo recognized the ring. It was part of the treasure. “I will give you gold for that ring.” He had no idea why he wanted it back, but he did, desperately.
Victor slowly smiled. “No amount of gold can buy love.” He closed his fingers around the ring, holding it in a fist to his chest.
“Victor?” Anya approached, motioning him to the back room.
Victor quickly finished the last of his vodka before following Anya. Lorenzo watched the door close quietly behind them.
“What does he want?” Alec growled from behind Lorenzo, causing him to tip over his full glass. He towered above and narrowed his eyes.
“He wants Tatiana,” Lorenzo declared, bracing himself for the giant Greek man’s reaction.
Alec’s eyes blazed.
Lorenzo mopped up the vodka with a cloth then pressed it against his bleeding shoulder. Wincing, he continued, “I’m grateful for everything Tatiana and Katarina have done for me.” He refilled his glass and took a drink. His attempt to cover his dislike of the vodka failed miserably. Alec’s stern face cracked. “Victor wants Tatiana very much. But you, Alec, you want her more.” Lorenzo put his drink down and pushed it toward Alec who grabbed it, downed the vodka, and slammed the empty glass upside down on the table without blinking.
“Tatiana loved Andreas.” Alec’s words trailed off.
“Victor does not respect this as you do,” Lorenzo persisted.
“Tatiana knows I will protect her and her family. She knows.” Alec’s face softened as he stared at the empty glass.
“Women don’t know. Even if they do, they want to be told.”
“Enough. You will speak no more of this.” Alec gestured to the door. “Two Italians asked me about you. They’re searching for pirates.”
“I’m not a pirate. I’m an American sailor.” Lorenzo stated proudly.
“That is what you say, yet you were on a pirate ship. You have a treasure. Where is your navy ship?” Alec pressed.
“Victor has a ring.” Lorenzo blurted. The door to the back room opened, and Anya entered. She acknowledged Alec then advanced toward Lorenzo, focusing her attention on his wound. Alec stormed into the back room, slamming the door behind him.
Lorenzo noticed Anya’s disapproving glance at the vodka bottle. “This drink was Victor’s. Will Alec stay in there with them?”
“Alec stay.” She tapped Lorenzo’s shoulder then began unbuttoning his shirt. A wry grin appeared on her face. “Alec protect Mama.” She lightly grazed his chest with her fingertips as she unfastened the last button. “Alec no protect Anya.” With a devilish grin, she eased his shirt off.
Lorenzo’s mind raced back to the boat earlier that morning. He ached to hold her, to kiss her again. He wanted her more than ever, but Anya was not just a pretty girl. Her intelligence, strength, and determination set her apart from other women he had known. Lorenzo was determined to prove to Alec that he was worthy to court Anya. He touched her chin tenderly. “Anya—”
She pressed a finger to his lips.
“No talk,” she whispered.
He kissed her finger before her smooth lips eagerly met his. Lorenzo sighed when her hand touched his cheek. He pulled her onto his lap with one arm wrapped tightly around her. She was right there, in his arms, gazing at him with an innocent grin. She nuzzled his cheek as a floorboard creaked.
Within an instant, Anya stood with his shirt in her hand. She busied herself with the bloodied bandage as Alec entered, followed by Victor.
“Good to see you again, Victor,” Lorenzo called.
Victor waved over his shoulder and left the store. Alec stared at Lorenzo, seething with anger. He directed his dark eyes at Anya then departed into the back room, closing the door. Lorenzo took a deep breath as Anya carefully untied the bandage.
“Tatiana,” Lorenzo began, attempting to keep his mind off his shoulder. “Does she care for Victor?”
“What is this word, ‘care’?” Anya examined the wound then saturated a cloth with alcohol.
Lorenzo smiled weakly as she held the cloth in one hand and offered her other. He took her hand in his as she pressed the cloth firmly on his open wound. Lorenzo closed his eyes as the alcohol sizzled into the gash. Stinging pain filled his shoulder. He squeezed Anya’s hand as he had done many times in the past two weeks.
Anya slid nimbly into his lap without letting up on the pressure. When the pain eased, Lorenzo took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
“Care,” he whispered in her ear. “I care for you.” He held her tight with his good arm. “You care for me?”
Anya peered into his eyes playfully. “Care is love?”
Lorenzo thought about how to distinguish between the two words as she wrapped his shoulder. Remembering how she had tied the bandage earlier that morning, he wisely waite
d until she finished.
Lorenzo took one of her hands into his. “Care.” He kissed it softly. Anya smiled and adjusted the bandage to her liking. “Love.” He pressed her body against his, kissing her with feeling from deep within his heart. She readily returned his embrace. Lorenzo caught his breath, kissing her top lip tenderly. “Love.”
Anya smiled. “Care, yes.”
Lorenzo leaned back a few inches. He hoped she understood how much he truly loved her. She laughed, tilting her head before standing up.
“Mama care Victor. No love Victor. Mama love—”
The telltale creak sounded, abruptly ending her sentence.
Alec and Tatiana walked into the store, talking pleasantly. Anya faced Lorenzo with a grin. “Alec.”
Lorenzo nodded, rotating his arm gingerly.
“Good?” Anya questioned.
“Beautiful,” Lorenzo whispered.
At the counter, Alec poured a glass of wine for Tatiana.
Lorenzo approached him and asked, “Did you tell her?”
The smirk on Alec’s face broke into a scowl. He growled under his breath in his own language and then pushed past Lorenzo to hand Tatiana the wine.
Tatiana continued talking to Anya as Alec went to the back room. He returned a moment later with a shawl. Tatiana smiled as he placed it carefully on her shoulders before ushering her out the door.
Anya held out a clean shirt, easing it over Lorenzo’s shoulder. She began buttoning. Never, before this morning on the ship, had they been left unsupervised. Lorenzo took her hands in his. She quickly kissed him, barely brushing his lips.
“Alec and Mama come home, eat.” She held one finger up. Lorenzo understood this to mean she was expected to prepare the midday meal and have it ready by one o’clock. It was eleven. There was not much time.
“I help?”
