Goddess, Awakened

by Cate Masters

  She found an evergreen grand enough for a passersby to see and be warmed by its cheer. Annie’s husband Chet brought it to the inn in his pickup, and helped them erect it in the tree stand.

  Two days later, Joss decorated it, first stringing the lights, then hanging the ornaments she’d collected for decades. The glass icicles. The jeweled snowflakes Gram hand-crafted long ago. The small, red glass balls resembling dew-kissed berries when they shone in the light. The glitter and glue and Q-Tip snowflake, pieced together by pudgy small hands so long ago, block letters on the back signed Love, Kyle. Her favorite ornament.

  Finally, she strung rows of wooden cranberry beads, somewhat sparse on such a large evergreen. Stepping back to admire her work, warmth filled her.

  Eric would see it every day as he drove past. Did he put up a tree? Or did he forego decorating his home and have the office staff decorate the practice? She hoped he wouldn’t spend Christmas alone. If he came for Christmas dinner… She shuddered. Though she’d relived the night in the kitchen a million times since Thanksgiving, she couldn’t let it happen again.

  * * * *

  First on the morning schedule, a pup’s spay. Enough to keep Eric’s mind occupied, yet routine enough to allow it to wander. Efforts to steer his mind away from Joss Gibson failed every time. The woman frustrated him.

  Worse, thoughts of Sheree grew more distressing by the day. Every time he thought of stopping by to see Joss, Sheree would pop into his head. Offer him a drink, then sit on his lap and offer herself. Each time it happened, he was less startled. Though his brain wanted Joss, his body seemed to want Sheree. He couldn’t understand it.

  Only at work was Eric in his element. Animals responded to him better than people. A simple touch communicated his intent to help, to heal, to care. Much more effective than words, which lately tripped him up at every turn.

  No, he corrected himself. Only with her. The harder he tried, the worse the situation grew. No other female twisted his insides in a tumult.

  Karen had allowed his nurturing side to flourish. She never argued, never challenged him. In some ways, it represented an empty aspect of their marriage. In yielding to him, she’d given little consideration to things. Important details. He preferred to discuss issues, air out ideas. Compromise provided equal ground in a relationship.

  Turning to the vet assistant, he nearly forgot her name. At the last second, it hit him. “Terry, will you bring the dog to the back?”

  “Sure.” Bending to gather the pup in her arms, she cooed, “Snuggles, you’ll be fine in no time. Your mommy will take you home soon.”

  Ugh. “Snuggles?”

  “Yes, that’s his name.”

  “Are you married?” he blurted. At her wide eyes and gaping mouth, he rushed to cover the awkwardness. Such a stupid thing to bring up, but he knew so little about her. About any of his employees. He’d locked himself inside a prison of grief for too long and it was time to break free. “I mean, you’re very good with the clients. The animals. A business conference I went to”—he needn’t mention it occurred years ago—“recommended vets get to know their employees’ personal history. To make the atmosphere more relaxed.” God, he was babbling. He never babbled. She might think he was hitting on her. Or off his rocker.

  Splaying her hand beneath the pup’s rump, she wiggled her left hand, where a small diamond ringed the third finger. “I’m engaged.”

  “Good. Congratulations.” Whew. Off the hook. He flashed a grin.

  A confused frown tainted her smile. “Thanks.” She carried the dog out.

  Get a grip. Keeping up such questioning would land him in a lawsuit for sexual harassment or worse.

  Everything was a jumbled mess.

  Chapter 7

  The weeks before the holidays usually slowed down. Eric looked forward to it, and dreaded it. This year, the practice kept him busy right through December, more people making appointments before going away on holiday, most bringing their animals away with them. The few people who boarded their pets needed shots updated so the kennels would allow the vaccinated animal to stay without fear of infecting others. Eric barely had time between appointments to catch a breath.

  Still, he had no excuse not to have called her. He shouldn’t have left the situation so awkward between them. Every time he reached for the phone to speak to her, Sheree’s voice would sound through his head. “Call me. I’ll cheer you up.” Somehow, he doubted it.

  The inn across the street bustled with life, with more guests leaving and arriving on weekends than the place had seen in years. From his bedroom, he could see twinkling inside. A few strings of white lights glowed around the porch. Nothing gaudy. The tree looming through the front windows drew his gaze again and again, until his heart ached. He wanted to be there, sitting by the fire with Joss in his arms, the shadows of the evergreen on the ceiling, the scent of pine filling the room. Her lavender scent intoxicating him.

  Why couldn’t he work up the nerve to call her? Better yet, go there and see her?

  Because she doesn’t want you. He didn’t need a sledgehammer to knock him over the head. Her reticence, immediately after, had the same effect. But why? Making love to her had been amazing, if too fast. He wanted to make good on his offer so he could hold her all night. She’d only reject him again. The first time humiliated him enough.

  That night, when his sister called to remind him of his family obligations, he reluctantly agreed. “I’ll be there Christmas Eve.”

  “And you won’t run off the next day?”

  “Of course not.”

  She sniffed. “Well, you usually do.”

  “I’ll stay until the day after. All right?” Maybe when he returned he’d be able to deliver the present wrapped in gold foil, sitting on his dresser.

  * * * *

  “I’ve told you everything.” Sheree pounded her fists against the steering wheel, wishing she’d remembered her gloves. The freaking heater waited until the coldest day of the year to die. With rent due, she’d have to scrimp on other necessities. One good thing about waitressing at the diner—customers’ leftovers. But now she’d have to add more shifts to earn enough to fix the car. Maybe get a second job, except where, in this tiny town? No one needed extra employees. Holy cow, she needed a break, and if they wouldn’t give her one, she’d find a way without them.

  “I want Eric. Now.” The bastards had frustrated her beyond belief. The tantalizing hologram of Eric was the last straw. She didn’t want some ghost of him. She wanted the man, in the flesh. Sheree let out a frustrated exhale, and her breath billowed in a cloud.

  The dark man’s eyes narrowed, but didn’t dim their glow. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

  She searched ahead for a spot to pull over her car. No, don’t draw unwanted attention again. Last time, the officer had let her go with a warning, but she’d had to plead and cry. From now on, she’d beg no one. “This is a waste of time.”

  He turned his attention out the window. “Hardly. Our arrangement is mutually beneficial.”

  Funny, his breath made no steam in this cold. “Not so far.” Her idea of benefits included Eric. Living in his big, lovely house. Cooking him dinner instead of serving the local geriatrics, cozying up to him at night. Sleeping later than daybreak and not working her buns off until dark.

  “You’ll see results soon,” he said. “I hope we will as well.”

  She blurted, “It’s not my fault she’s not doing anything interesting to report.”

  “Perhaps you’re not trying hard enough.”

  Resisting the urge to mimic him in a mocking tone, she said, “I told you, I’ve done everything I can.”

  “It seems unlikely.”

  She splayed her hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t know what you want then.”

  “You’re not making progress on your own. Get help.”

  She turned to argue, but the jerk had disappeared again.

  * *
* *

  Entering the kitchen, Joss inhaled the delicious mix of apples, thyme, onion and celery wafting from the oven. “The turkey smells wonderful.”

  “I hope it tastes as good,” Annie said, stirring the gravy. “I don’t want to give Tom Larsen an excuse to complain.”

  “I’m not worried about him. I want the girls to enjoy themselves. It’s their night to celebrate their victories.”

  Annie’s quick smile erased the sullen mood. “They did so well on the riding circuit, didn’t they?”

  “Yes.” Joss hoped it wouldn’t give Tom the incentive to push even harder. His lust for trophies and blue ribbons lent an acrid smell to him. It had grown unbearable recently. The four riders, girls between twelve and fifteen, tended to wrinkle their noses when confronted with his presence, as if they too, smelled it.

  Even now, sitting in the front room with their families, the girls gave Tom a wide berth and spoke formally, if at all, to him. Their usual easy camaraderie stiffened around him more each day.

  The horses most definitely reacted badly. When Tom grabbed hold of a halter, the horse snorted, nostrils flared, eyes rolled fearfully to watch the trainer. Joss said nothing. Riding lessons grew infrequent during winter, though the girls came out on days the temperatures held above freezing to trot their horses around the ring. The girls posted gracefully in the saddles, and their breath, like the horse’s, billowed in the cold air.

  When Joss announced dinner, the parents, too, avoided sitting near Tom. When Joss and Annie served the meal, Tom ate ravenous and wild-eyed like a starving animal. With gaping mouths, others watched, at first forgetting to eat their own food.

  Afterward, Tom rose to speak. In a booming voice, he glossed over the girls’ hard work, cautioning at the same time they could never become complacent if they hoped to ride in the top circuits one day.

  A sour look came over a few parents, who mumbled among themselves. Immediately after Tom finished, one father said, “Let’s go open presents.”

  The girls rushed to the tree, where their exchanged gifts waited. Clearing the table, it reminded Joss of when Kyle was a boy, and she and John would watch as he tore off the wrapping paper, each exclamation more enthusiastic than the last.

  She hoped her son would make good on his word to visit. She missed him. And she hadn’t remembered John in days. Maybe weeks. More often, she’d thought of Eric. Before Kyle arrived, she’d have to put Eric out of her mind, or her son would surely pick up on it. Like her other relatives, he clued in to such things.

  Passing through the dining room, she instinctively glanced out the window. She hadn’t seen Eric since that night. She’d been so sure he’d come by within days, and her heart leapt against her ribs each time the blue SUV passed along the road, but he always drove by without stopping.

  Annie came out of the kitchen. “How’s it going?”

  “They’re nearly done, I think. Why don’t you go on home?” Joss hated for her friend to stay late, especially near the holidays.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. You’ve done more than enough.”

  “All right. Chet’s been holding off watching a new DVD. It’ll be a good movie to watch in bed.”

  “A guy flick?” She didn’t miss having to endure those.

  Annie’s grin wrinkled her nose. “I’ll get back at him with my mushy Christmas movies.”

  An ache filled Joss. She’d go to bed alone. Again. In a false show of bravado, she smiled. “You’ll have to let me borrow a few. The mushy movies, not the macho ones. Taz doesn’t mind, so long as I share the popcorn.”

  Annie gave a sad smile, then hugged her. “I’ll see you tomorrow. How many for Christmas Eve dinner?”

  “A family of five. Unless Kyle actually puts in an appearance.”

  Annie touched her wrist. “He will.”

  Joss’s throat constricted, and the “sure” she uttered came out hoarse. To curtail further pity, she dismissed her friend. “Tell Chet hi for me.”

  By the time the partiers went home, it was nearly ten o’clock. Something about Tom Larsen unnerved Joss. Tonight, the trainer’s presence grated her nerves, pricked alert her faculties. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why. The trainer’s sharp glances seemed to search for something. Taz watched his every move, listening with raised ears. Only when Tom left did the dog sprawl on the floor and close his eyes.

  After clearing the last of the dishes, she stared out the kitchen door. Beyond the empty field, the veterinary practice stood in complete darkness, as if an empty shell. An eerie shiver crept over her, and she rubbed her arms.

  Weariness drove Joss to bed. Taz jumped up and curled near her feet. She listened, expecting to hear a truck pull up, and hesitated before turning out the light, though she knew Eric wouldn’t come. Where are you?

  * * * *

  Too many nights of insomnia. Eric’s nerves jangled. He operated with rote motion, actions ingrained in his consciousness. Could people be mentally battered? Unable to think straight. Haunted by visions of himself with Sheree. His head hurt from trying to drive the images from his head and replace them with Joss. He needed days of good, sound sleep, devoid of dreams.

  He found himself parked outside Kara’s Kafe for the fifth time this week, and it was only Tuesday. What the hell was he doing? His hand reached for the handle to climb out. He willed it to stop.

  The sight of Tom Larsen crossing the street toward the diner caught Eric’s attention. Tom publicly disapproved of diner fare. Had the same weirdness trapped Tom? Eric crept out of the truck and along the outside of the building. He peered inside in time to see Tom and Sheree slip into the back room.

  Anger pumped through Eric. He gripped the edge of the window. No way. He couldn’t be jealous of Tom. He didn’t care about Sheree. So why did his teeth clench after seeing them together?

  * * * *

  “Well?” Sheree folded her arms over her chest, shivering. The dark alley provided cover, at least. She should have grabbed a sweater.

  Tom shrugged. “The party went fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Dammit.” The woman must be hiding something. Somewhere. Why else would The Underworld suspect her of plotting against them? Or whatever the fool demons down there suspected.

  “Maybe the ground’s too cold now,” Tom said. “Didn’t you say it was something underground?”

  Did he think her stupid? “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. She probably can’t do anything until spring.”

  Hmm. They might buy the excuse. Or it might at least buy her some time. “I don’t get it.”

  Tom stiffened. “Are you sure they’ll give me a top rated thoroughbred?”

  She rubbed her arms. “All I can do is ask.”

  He frowned. “I always knew there was something strange about the place.”

  Yeah. Whatever. “I gotta go.” She turned for the door.

  He grabbed her wrist. “Hey. I want my thoroughbred.”

  Yanking from his grasp, she glared. Even one minion could be such a pain in the butt. “I said I’ll tell them.” First she wanted Eric. Then she’d worry about getting Tom his stupid horse.

  * * * *

  Not even gravy helped the dry turkey. Eric gulped down a few bites and pushed his plate away. Some Christmas. He should have stayed home.

  Worry furrowed his sister’s brow. “I hope you’re eating more?”

  “My stomach’s in a knot.” No need to say why. The more he thought about visiting Joss, the more twisted it became.

  His mother assessed him. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine,” his sister said. “You need someone to take care of you.”

  “Eileen’s right,” his mother said. “Aren’t you seeing anyone yet?”

  He’d prepared for the interrogation, knew they corroborated on how to approach the subject. They’d been a
t it the past year. So why did it throw him off guard this time? His mouth fell open, and he stared at the centerpiece candle. In its flame, there was Joss. Willowy in a white gown, emanating strength of spirit. Reaching for him. Gazing up at him with fiery-bright love. Lips parting as he bent to kiss her.

  Eileen’s sharp intake of breath snapped him out of it.

  Eyes wide, his sister exclaimed, “You are seeing someone.”

  “No.” He couldn’t claim to be, exactly.

  “There’s someone you’d like to date, then?” His mother prompted hopefully.

  His father harrumphed. “Leave him alone. His private life is not up for public discussion.”

  “Thanks Dad.” One ally, at least.

  Peering over his bifocals, he added, “They’re right, son. You’re overdue.”

  “It’s time,” his mother said.

  He had no wish to discuss it. “What’s for dessert?” He shoved away from the table and went to the kitchen. A bracing breath, and he returned to make a show of eating the pecan pie slice he’d grabbed, though it did nothing to satisfy him.

  With the excuse of having to get up for an early flight, he went to bed early. The television blared in the living room, and his mother and sister at the dining room table argued loudly whether a full house beat a flush in playing poker.

  He stared at the ceiling. Does Joss know I’m gone? What’s she doing right now?

  Sheree loomed over him, startling him fully awake. Her pouting red mouth parted, and she licked her lips, writhing above him. Come to me, Eric. I want you. She dragged her finger down his chest, leaving a sizzling trail.

  He scrambled out of bed, wiping away the eerie sensation of her phantom touch.

  Maybe his mother and sister were right. It was time for him to date. Boiling Springs wasn’t exactly a haven of available women. Sheree displayed her interest clear enough. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine what he might have in common with her. There’s only one way to find out. His subconscious must be sending him signals. A date with Sheree might break whatever spell he’d fallen under.