by Cate Masters
Maybe the crazy aunt’s a witch. She’s cast a spell over me.
Now he sounded like the gossipers at the diner. The fact that he entertained such a notion proved something was amiss. Or why he reacted to her so strangely. No, overreacted. Her presence threw off his internal compass, sent the needle spinning. He had no idea which direction was up. Knew only that whatever force was at work, it drew him back, uncontrollably, to her.
He found himself outside his practice without any memory of driving there.
Glancing back, the Victorian atop the hill gleamed like a beacon in fog. Light poured out the windows with a vibrancy reflecting the life of those within. Again, the distinct impression of being an outsider struck him. Normally, he didn’t mind spending his spare time alone, or at least, he never had until he met Joss.
For the first time, memories of Karen appeared to him in an abstract way, as if from a distance, instead of hitting him like a freight train. Strange. Before, he’d been vaguely aware of his wife’s presence. Of course, he didn’t believe in ghosts, but sometimes his ache for her would ease, and Karen’s warmth would wrap around him like an invisible embrace. In the past year or so, even those brief encounters with her had abandoned him, leaving a gaping void. He finally shook off the sensation of being suspended in nothingness, of seeing life happening around him yet not immersed in it.
Being with Joss brought his solitary lifestyle into sharper relief, revealing a deep loneliness that he hadn’t acknowledged. He had his work. The practice. Memories of Karen. No need for anything else.
Though lately, the waitress at Kara’s Kafe had popped into his head uninvited. And unwanted. He’d awaken and imagine her beside him. He’d jump out of bed to put distance between them, though he knew she wasn’t actually there. Or when he drove, he sometimes imagined her cuddling into his side. It wrenched his stomach. Worse, it interrupted musings of Joss, almost as if on purpose. Sheree didn’t interest him. Why did she appear in his head?
Only when he was near Joss did the unease about the waitress subside.
* * * *
After the door closed, Joss let out a ragged breath. She waited, listening to his footsteps recede. Waiting for them to return. What am I doing? Apparently getting caught up in the poor man’s need for comfort. Then why did she wish he’d stayed longer?
He didn’t talk to her, so much as at her. Maybe he didn’t know how to relate to humans. What a shame, for such a ruggedly handsome, virile man to close himself off to others. To happiness. Maybe his vet practice provided enough for him, and filled any void of loneliness.
Concern in his eyes, Taz tilted his head, as if reading her thoughts.
Seemingly oblivious, Charlie faced the wall, painting intently. Annie, on the other hand, moved the roller slowly up and down. With frequent, furtive glances, she watched Joss.
Joss forced a smile. “We’re making good progress. The inn will be ready for Thanksgiving after all.”
In an unintentional imitation of Taz, Annie’s shoulders slumped when she tilted her head, her face filled with yearning. A silent beg for inside information. The effect was comical, but Joss couldn’t talk about what had happened.
Joss shot her a silent warning. Strange the old clock struck the correct hour. To mention it would open an avenue of discussion for Annie, so Joss bent to retrieve her paint roller. “Let’s see how far we can get before lunch.”
“What’s for lunch today, Annie?” Charlie asked.
Annie answered, “Chili and corn bread. It’ll warm us up.”
“Sounds perfect.” Even if Joss was plenty heated by Eric’s visit. His essence still permeated the room, emanating heat like a hearth fire.
Charlie agreed, and engaged Annie in a discussion of recipes.
The ping of hard rain against the window captured Joss’s attention. Beyond the spattered glass, the dark blue SUV swung away from the barn and down the long drive. A plume of exhaust trailed from his vehicle. She could have sworn he watched from within.
I don’t need any trouble. I don’t care how handsome he is. More than handsome. Now she knew why younger people referred to the opposite sex as hot. When near him, a side of her she’d locked away returned, hungry for more. The hair on her skin shot up with electricity when he stood close.
No, she should leave him alone. And every other man, after what Gram revealed.
Chapter 4
The dream again. The same man, mysterious, yet her soul mate. Joss awoke damp with sweat. Light edged the horizon and gradually diffused the shadows from her room. Taz jumped atop the bed and nudged her hand with his snout.
Sitting up, she hugged him, stroking his long black and white fur. “Oh, Taz.”
When John’s friend had first brought the border collie, Joss balked. The last thing she needed was another life to depend on her. John had told her the herding dog would guide her. Taz had turned his brown eyes toward her, a connection beyond love. Somehow the dog had shared her sadness and promised better times lie ahead.
The dog’s soft tongue licked her cheek. “I know. We have a lot of work to finish.” Enough dreaming, for now.
After a quick shower, she threw on jeans and a sweatshirt.
Taz woofed at the window, tail wagging.
“Someone coming?” Joss ruffled his fur and peered outside. “It’s Annie.”
Bounding ahead as she opened the door, the dog reached Annie before Joss, who rushed down the porch steps. “You’re here early.”
Annie smiled. “I brought breakfast. I know you’ve been working before Charlie and I arrive and after we leave. You’re going to exhaust yourself.”
“Not a chance. I’m in love.”
Annie’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“I fall in love with the house every time I look at it.” Joss delighted in every detail. Arched wooden frames protruded around the third floor windows. From its near-flat mansard rooftop, shingles curved delicately down to the second floor, rimmed in dark wooden molding set with evenly spaced carved brackets beneath the eaves. Like the first floor, the second floor boasted narrow floor-to-ceiling windows in pairs. Topped by an aged copper roof, the main rectangular tower jutted past the front door, its three windows angled hexagonally. Columns sat at the front of the roofed porch, extending past the dining room windows.
“Yep, the inn’s beautiful.” Annie chuckled. “Or will be.”
“It’s a Second Empire Victorian. Did I tell you already?”
Annie’s lips twisted to the side. “You might have mentioned the fact a few times.”
“Doesn’t its name seem perfect? For both the inn and my life. A second empire.”
“You will rule in both,” Annie joked, following her to the back door. “I have to admit, I was afraid I’d be cooking over a hearth.”
“Not quite.” The previous owners had updated the kitchen beautifully. In the morning sun, the room gleamed in ceramic and steel perfection. Graced with four large arched windows, light blazed through.
After setting down her bags, Annie ran her hand across the large, shiny stove, then the huge refrigerator. “I still can’t believe how gorgeous it is.”
Joss leaned against the large central island. “I’m glad the one room they updated was this one.”
“Ah, my dream workspace.” Annie caressed the light gray granite countertops. “I want to live here.”
“Once we’re up and running, you practically will.” Joss moved to the back door. “And the outdoor summer kitchen’s only a few steps down the walk.”
Stepping beside her, Annie said, “Where you’ll make the specialty of the house.”
“A few specialties, actually.” Joss planned to create delectable concoctions using her grandmother’s potent ingredient—lavender. She’d stir it in lemonade for hot summer days, mix it with sugar to dust on cakes, and adorn rooms with its blooms.
“The entire field will be filled with a sea of purple flowers.” She couldn’t wait until
the view transformed her vision into reality. “Gram used to tell me lavender keeps away everything from insects to bad luck, if you believe in superstition.”
Rapping her knuckles on the wooden door jamb, Annie chuckled. “Don’t knock it. We could use some luck.”
“I don’t believe in luck, Annie. I believe in working hard, and making my own luck.” Joss had ignored her grandmother’s advice to entwine the perennial in her hair for her wedding to John. Gram had told her the sacred rite would ensure she retained her female power and bring good fortune. Joss hadn’t needed a flower for that.
“We’re going to make this work, Annie.”
“You betcha.” Annie slung an arm around her shoulder. “I’m so happy to see you moving on, honey. I was worried about you.”
“I was fine.” Joss couldn’t admit to Annie she had reason to worry. “You’re right, buying this place was the right decision. Running the inn will keep me busy, if nothing else, and Taz has the run of the property’s seven acres.” She reached down to pat his head, and he looked up at her with his warm brown eyes, mouth open in a doggy smile.
Annie’s careful scrutiny crawled over her. “Nope, something more. You look more like you. Even more like you than when John was alive.” She waved. “I can’t explain it.”
“I know what you mean. It’s true.” Since moving in, Joss was more herself than she had been in years. Stronger, more vibrant. “I’m looking forward to the future again, instead of dreading it. I can’t wait to plant the first crop of lavender next spring.” It would bring happy childhood memories, and hopefully happy customers who loved her lavender-based recipes. If the blooms brought a bit of luck, all the better.
* * * *
Lavender Hill Inn’s flow of guests grew steadily. Her full days gave Joss no time to think about anything besides work, or so she told herself. Despite her resolve, Eric barely left Joss’s thoughts for the next few weeks. In the mornings, she pointedly avoided him, waiting to walk Taz until after his early run.
Until the morning Taz broke from their early morning walk to run to the barn.
“Where are you going?” Rounding the back of the house, she slowed at the sight of Eric’s truck.
Tail wagging, Taz stood beside it. Eric climbed out and bent to pat the dog’s head.
“Oh, no.” She’d planned for this eventual visit—and had planned to be away, out of sight, where she wouldn’t have to speak to him. If she hurried into the summer kitchen, she could avoid him. Her pace quickened. As she reached for the door, Taz barked.
Glancing back, she shushed the dog. Too late. The vet stood, hand on hip, watching.
“Hello.” She waved and grabbed the door knob.
“Morning.” He strolled closer.
“How are the horses?”
“Good. I’m giving shots today.”
Was the regular vet still on vacation? “Poor things.”
“They don’t feel much.”
“All animals experience pain.” How could he claim otherwise?
“Horses have such thick skins. Nothing like humans.” He winced and turned away.
She wished she had such a protective barrier. One would come in handy right now. “Good. Well…” Stepping back, she beat a hasty retreat and entered the house through the back door.
In the kitchen, Joss rubbed the sudden gooseflesh on her arms. Turning toward Annie didn’t erase the pull from the barn. “So what else do we need for the Thanksgiving dinner?”
Thankfully, Annie said nothing about the vet’s presence, though her gaze returned to the blue SUV several times. “I’m finished shopping. Will Kyle come?” The hope in Annie’s voice shone through, though she seemed to struggle to remain casual.
“Overnight, yes.” Her son hadn’t missed a holiday yet. “Lydia too.”
Annie brightened. “Oh, good. I like her.”
“Thanksgiving wouldn’t be the same without family.” Not necessarily a bad thing when your family’s certifiable.
Since Halloween, everything had remained calm. Normal. If only she could say the same for her family.
Wiping her hands, Annie asked, “How are reservations?”
“Five more booked for dinner, so we’ll have thirty.” More than she’d expected.
“Great. Any staying overnight?” As always, Annie’s enthusiasm made even small news seem huge.
“Seven, including Kyle and Lydia.” She’d hoped for more, with people’s relatives coming into town for the holiday, but the inn needed time to build its reputation.
“Once people see how beautiful the inn is, word will get out, and we’ll be turning people away.”
Nice to dream big, anyway. Joss wouldn’t dampen Annie’s hopes. “It does look wonderful, doesn’t it?” The walls in the front room were light sage, the trim painted in cream, carried into the foyer. “Better than I’d imagined.”
“When will the new sign arrive?”
“Not until after Christmas, because it’s a special order.” Joss sighed. “I can’t wait until spring, when we can paint the outside.”
“And plant the lavender.” After a slight squee, Annie said, “Your dreams are coming true. By next summer, they’ll bloom into reality.”
Something about the words struck Joss hard. The dream. Every night, it recurred: the man in the lavender field. Her soul mate. Who was he? Where was he right now?
Joss didn’t realize Annie stood beside her until her friend touched her arm.
“Are you all right, hon?”
Shaking off the odd sensation, Joss smiled. “Fine. I can’t stop worrying about the enormous amount of work ahead. Especially the barn. I hope the boarders will understand why we need to make the changes.” Moving the pasture to the other side of the stable, for starters. Building a new tack room so Joss could make use of the old summer kitchen.
“Don’t forget the patio.” Dreaminess filled Annie’s voice. “It will give us a lot more options. Just think, people will book birthday parties there, graduation parties, anniversary parties…and weddings! How perfect will that space be for weddings?”
At the word, Joss’s stomach twisted. “Absolutely perfect.”
The kitchen echoed the click of Taz’s nails across the floor as he went to the door, then glanced back at Joss.
“You want to go out?” She hesitated before opening the door. “Don’t bother the doctor.”
To her horror, Taz beelined for the stable and squeezed inside the barely-open entrance. “Oh, no.”
Annie chuckled. “He likes to keep an eye on everyone and everything.”
Sometimes the wrong things. With growing caution, she found herself riveted to the scene outside. She opened the door to listen.
“You’re not worried, are you?” Annie’s voice sounded far away.
More vividly, a horse’s snort came from inside the barn. Shuffling hooves stamping the ground. A dog’s yelp sounded.
Red flashed through Joss’s mind and her blood chilled. “Taz!” She ran with only one thought in mind, please let him be safe.
Eric’s loud commands sounded across the yard. “Settle down. Whoa.”
She scrambled to push the barn door wider and halted, her throat constricted.
Eric crouched over Taz, lying on the ground. With calculating precision, Eric ran his hands across the dog’s rump and back legs.
Heart pounding, she halted. “What happened?”
“A small kick. He got between Triple Power and me in the stall.” Eric stood. “He’s fine.”
As if to prove it, Taz scrabbled to his feet, tail wagging.
Joss released a long shuddering breath. “Thank goodness.” She went to him. Instinctively, she ran her hands along the same path the vet’s had taken. Everything appeared to be in place, and Taz gave no protest.
She turned to Eric. He stiffened. His gaze lit with an intense fire. One that ignited within her. She nearly forgot to say, “Thank you.”
Eri
c lurched to a stand. “No problem.”
Lost in the whirl of his emotions, she steeled herself against reaching for him. “I’ll take Taz inside.”
He stepped closer. “He’s no bother.”
At first surprised, Joss reasoned, Of course. Animals, he’s comfortable with. It’s people he doesn’t like. The storm brewing beneath the man’s skin unnerved her.
Sensing his deep discomfort, she blurted, “We’re open for Thanksgiving dinner. If you have nowhere else to go.” Not a very gracious invitation, but it hid the hope he’d accept.
Darkness crossed his face, hardened his features. “I’m not sure yet.”
Three days away and he hadn’t firmed up plans? “Annie’s turkey dinner is legendary.”
He jerked his head, not quite a nod so much as a dismissal.
With no other reason to stay, she strolled to the door. “I should get back.” A final glance at Taz revealed the dog wouldn’t follow. Taz sat watching, unmoving except for his tail swishing against the ground, mouth open in a pant, uncannily resembling a smile.
* * * *
Sheree closed the door of her apartment harder than she intended. Another night alone. She’d grown tired of waiting. When would the shadowy guy fulfill his end of the bargain? She’d told him everything she’d learned. Sure, it wasn’t much, but could she help it if Mrs. Gibson was about as boring as could be? She worked throughout the day and stayed in at night. So far as Sheree could tell, so did Eric.
Lately, though, when he came to the diner for lunch, Eric looked at her funny. Like she was up to something.
He wasn’t supposed to know. They must have messed up somehow.
“I’ll give you an earful this time.” Grumbling, she hung her coat in the hall closet, closed the door, and gasped, heart suddenly in overdrive. “When did you get here?”
Leaning against the wall, the dark man chuckled. Not the kind that inspired her to laugh along, either. “This instant. What juicy tidbits have you gathered this week?”
