by Cate Masters
Unharnessing Taz, she asked, “Anyone call?”
Tilting her head, Annie frowned. “Are you expecting someone special?”
No one she’d admit to. “I meant, any reservations.”
Disappointment erased Annie’s grin. “Oh. Yes. Two.”
“Seriously?” Good. She needed work to keep her mind off other things.
“One couple for tomorrow night. Another single woman on Saturday.”
“Great.”
“Hopefully they won’t mind the smell.” Annie inclined her head toward the field, where the farmer maneuvered the tractor up and down the land beyond the stone bridge, dredging the earth over.
Something caught in Joss’s chest. Hope. Nervousness. She needed the ground to prove fertile. If not, it would delay her plan for at least a year.
“It does smell awful.” Annie curled her mouth down in disgust.
“It’s the manure. It’ll fade soon.” Half to herself, she added, “I hope. We’ll simply have to warn potential customers about the renovations, as we’ve been doing.” She didn’t want to turn anyone away, but honestly inform anyone who inquired there would be some unpleasantness throughout the day.
Joss turned away. “It is a bit strong.” But to her, it smelled sweet—like the answer to a promise.
Groaning her agreement, Annie sipped her coffee. “You bought the seedlings?”
“Yes. And Jim Turner’s working on the new tack room today.” Mr. Turner had leapt at the work offer.
“Did Tom Larsen give you any more flack about it?”
“No, he stopped, begrudgingly, when the girls said they liked the idea. Their gear will be right next to the barn, and in a more secure place. The old summer kitchen has so many windows, great for what I need, but the Suttons said thieves broke in last year and stole some saddles. So I don’t know what the fuss was about.” Except Tom liked to be in control. An obnoxious man, he pushed his riding students hard. More than once, she’d grown angry at the way he yelled at the young girls. He might help them to win top ribbons on the riding circuit, but to Joss, he took the pleasure out of the sport.
“The summer kitchen will make a nice gardening shed,” Annie said. “Handy for you.”
More than handy. Vital. “Oh, Annie. If this works out the way I want it to….” She couldn’t finish for fear of jinxing it.
“It will. Keep the faith.”
“Right.” Faith hadn’t helped after John’s diagnosis. In her heart of hearts, she knew the first day he complained of pain that she was already looking at a ghost.
Her heart of hearts—her inner eye, sixth sense, psychic ability. Everyone called it by a different name. Joss only knew it never failed her.
“I have a knack for these things,” Annie said. “Everything will turn around for you.”
“Yes, I read something similar in my horoscope.” Her smile faded at the sight of the vet’s SUV slowing along the road.
Annie stood beside her. “Who is it? Doc Hendricks?”
“Looks like him.” Her pulse raced thinking of him standing on her doorstep again.
A knock at the door took her breath away.
Oblivious, Annie strolled toward it. Joss couldn’t move until Jim Turner, not Eric Hendricks, stood on the threshold asking for her.
Shaking off her silliness, she forced a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you until later, after the foundation dried.”
“I checked and it’s ready as can be. Lucky the weather’s cooperating. I’m ready to get started if you are.”
“A man after my own heart.” From the moment she awoke, Joss set to work and rarely stopped until exhaustion forced her to. Doing so kept loneliness at bay. The real man after her own heart, she tried not to think about.
* * * *
A call from Dr. Avery put an end to Eric’s avoidance tactics. After minor surgery, the large-animal vet counted on Eric to fill in. The former racehorse, Maya, split a hoof and required immediate attention. Eric set aside his personal reluctance and grabbed his medical box.
Tom Larsen waited outside the stall with the teenage owner and her mother. The mare nickered nervously when he stepped inside.
Eric spoke in a low, constant voice. “Okay, pretty girl. I’m here to help.” Unlike the ass who stood by watching. If he had to guess, Larsen ignored the injury. Eric wouldn’t be surprised if the trainer had noticed the crack in the hoof and pushed the girl to keep going. In a few weeks, they’d compete in the first horse show of the season. He could practically smell Larsen’s desire to win Best Trainer trophy, like a stud stallion catching the scent of a mare in heat.
Straightening slowly so he didn’t spook the mare, he said, “You’ll have to confine Maya to her stall.”
Tom huffed. “For how long?”
To the girl and her mother, Eric explained, “As long as it takes. If you don’t let the hoof heal, you risk the danger of Maya becoming lame.”
With an exaggerated slouch, the teen clucked her tongue. “We’ve been practicing so hard.”
Too hard, apparently. Eric left it unspoken. He turned his back to Larsen. “Amy, have you been picking Maya’s feet?”
The teen shifted her feet. “Yes, I clean them before I saddle her.”
“And you didn’t notice the crack?” Impossible. Someone told her to ignore it. And Eric knew who.
“Well…” Amy’s gaze flicked to Larsen.
“Amy?” Her mother asked, her expression stern.
The girl mumbled, “I didn’t think it would hurt her.”
“Did you see it?” Eric finally asked the trainer.
Larsen’s chest puffed like a rooster. “It’s probably the farrier’s fault. He could easily have tightened the shoe too much.” Tom strode outside.
Anger rose up at the trainer’s evasion, a clearer indication of guilt than denial. Eric followed him out of the stable. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Standing beside the old summer kitchen, Joss met Eric’s gaze, ducked her head and strode in their direction. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Tom flashed a smile more plastic than a Ken doll’s. “A misunderstanding.”
Eric bristled. “Hardly. I understand too well.”
Eyes blazing, Tom glared. “You don’t have a clue. Fix up the hoof and be on your way.”
Steeling himself, he struggled to keep a civil voice. “You realize I live down the road, in plain view of the riding ring? I hope I don’t see Maya out there before I clear her. And I’ll inform Dr. Avery as well.” Possibly the authorities, if need be.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Joss repeated, stepping closer.
Tom’s patronizing tone grated against Eric. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“It absolutely concerns her,” Eric argued. “It’s her property.”
“Tell me now.” Joss rested her hands on her hips.
Her insistence surprised Eric. Pride welled in his chest. Why, he had no clue. She listened to Tom’s explanation, then turned to Eric. “Do you have another theory about it?”
Her clear gaze cut through his anger.
More relaxed, Eric answered, “The animal’s welfare should be the first concern. Not ribbons. Or trophies.”
“I agree,” Joss said. “You’ll abide by the doctor’s word, right Amy?”
Tom balled his fists, shifting his stance. “I’m responsible for this stable.”
Joss lowered her head as if ready to charge. “Ultimately, I am responsible. I expect you to act professionally. And make sure your methods are well within the law.”
The trainer laughed without humor. “What are you saying? I’m doing something illegal?”
“I certainly hope not.” Joss set her gaze on him, keeping her tone sweet. “Or I’d have to ask you to take your business elsewhere.”
His lip curled. “I may anyway.”
Joss stood straighter, as if ready for a fight. Tom easily stood more than a foot ta
ller, so the sight would have been comical, except the occasion allowed no humor.
Through clenched teeth, the trainer growled menacingly.
Joss met his glare with equal ferocity. “You’d better leave.”
“Or what,” Tom sneered. “You’ll call your grandmother?”
Eric turned to Joss. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tom strode to his truck, revved the engine and took off.
Her features softened when she turned to Eric.
He shifted under the weight of her gaze. “I don’t know why he’s always trying to prove himself an alpha male.”
“He’s not an alpha anything.” More quietly, she asked, “Will the hoof heal?”
He couldn’t look away from her. He wanted to encircle his arms around her. Inhale her scent. Taste her again. “If they allow plenty of rest.”
She peered up at him. “And you? How are you?”
Steeling himself, he forced a casual tone. “Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” His mind reeled. Before he knew what he was doing, he jerked away. Even though Joss’s comforting presence eased his tense muscles, pressure continued to build in his brain, urging him to leave.
“I have to finish up. I’m late for another, uh…” He walked off, unable to finish the lie, leaving her as confused as himself.
* * * *
Joss planted row after row of lavender in the new field, with the sound of hammering and the electric saw in the background.
Each day, the vet’s SUV slowed in passing. From behind the tinted windows, he watched. The day he’d come to treat Maya’s hoof, her pulse had raced at the sight of him.
Standing together in their argument with Tom Larsen that day, Eric’s presence had strengthened her. Otherwise, she might have run. Something about the trainer seemed off. If he’d claimed not to be himself, she’d have no trouble believing him. Tom’s eyes had flickered red with anger, and his voice had held a subtle echo, as if from a deep canyon. Joss had never encountered anything remotely similar, and didn’t like it. It set her on edge.
Against all precaution, she’d wanted Eric to stay with her. Despite the rumors of him dating Sheree, Joss detected his strong desire for her—as strong as her own. If he asked her again to take him to her bedroom, she might not have had the strength to say no. But definitely not her style to interfere in a couple’s relationship.
The day after Jim Turner pounded the last nail into the new tack room, and hung the steel door, Joss handed four keys to Tom Larsen, taking care not to make further physical contact. Though the trainer appeared normal enough today, her instincts still sharpened around him, wary of what might emerge.
When the dark blue SUV pulled up alongside the barn, her pulse raced so high, she was sure it revved through the ley line as well.
As Eric stepped from behind the wheel, Tom said something to him that Joss barely heard over the rush of blood through her ears.
Eric’s gaze crawled over the new structure, and landed on her with the force of lightning. “So it’s finished?”
Joss couldn’t find her voice.
Begrudgingly, Tom said, “It’s the new tack room. Guess we were in the way.” Tom’s laugh held no humor.
Folding her arms over her chest, Joss braced herself. “As I explained, Tom, this new tack room will be more secure, so the girls won’t have to worry about thieves. And they won’t muddy their leather boots walking across the yard carrying those heavy saddles.”
“Walking is good exercise,” the trainer said.
Eric shot a cold glance at Tom.
Despite bristling at his suggestion that prepubescent girls needed to carry heavy saddle gear, she smoothed and sweetened her voice. “Now they can focus their energy on riding. They were excited about the lockers and the saddle stands Mr. Turner built.”
The hint of a smile crossed Eric’s face, then disappeared. “You’re not going to tear down the summer kitchen?”
“No. It’s part of the house’s charm.” And an important part of her plan.
“And history.” Eric’s insistent tone left no doubt the past ranked high with him.
“Yes. And history.” Even if it’s best to bury it sometimes. The inn’s history provided a great deal of charm. Joss had no intention of disparaging it. “Jim will begin restoring it next week, after the girls move their tack.” She aimed the last at Tom.
Relief showed in the vet’s relaxed shoulders.
Abruptly, Tom stepped between them. “The farrier’s coming soon. We should get started.”
Did Eric’s glance contain something like disappointment? Don’t be stupid. He could care less. “Let me know if you need anything.” With an inward groan, she excused herself and strode toward the house. If he needed anything. Like what? A back rub? A shoulder to cry on? She could have kicked herself.
She couldn’t help glancing back, and disappointment pricked when he didn’t do the same.
Chapter 9
A strange foreboding haunted Joss for days after the confrontation with Tom. Though outward appearances indicated nothing wrong, he harbored something dark within. Some unnamable threat sent up vibrations of warning.
To ward it off, she went to the kitchen where Annie’s humming mixed with the clatter of cookware. Her friend’s good nature always buoyed her.
At the stove, Annie stirred a pot of sauce. “The patio’s coming along nicely.”
“Isn’t it beautiful? It will be better than I imagined.” Adjoining the dining room, it would overlook part of the back field, already sprouting with rows of green shoots. Amazingly fast. Joss suspected their speedy growth had less to do with her green thumb than the hum of energy below ground.
“Then we’ll have more customers than we can handle.” Annie’s false bravado sounded through her cheerful tone.
Joss wouldn’t quash the mood with her doubts. “Absolutely. The painters arrive tomorrow, and then we’ll schedule our grand open house. We’ll make this work, Annie. I promise.”
“I promise too. We’re in this together.”
“Like always.” Not in the same proportion this time. Annie would lose a job if they failed, but Joss would lose everything.
Maybe it was only a case of nerves. Once the patio was in and the rest of the work finished, she could focus on her true goal.
Before she turned in at bedtime, a hushed hum stilled her. A breeze billowed the bedroom curtain and carried the soft sound. Like the whisper of a secret waiting to be told, the music called to her.
A flicker of light against the wall caught Joss’s eye, and drew her to the window. Above the field, the flickers concentrated and grew dense. “Could it be…?” Afraid to say the word for fear it would frighten them away, she crept to the patio and stood on the edge, holding her breath. Before John’s death, it had been many years—decades, honestly—since she’d seen such a display. She couldn’t quite confirm her suspicion from where she stood, so quietly crept outside, across the yard to the stone bridge. Even at a distance, the illuminated shapes were indistinct. She stepped slowly closer.
The glowing figures stilled. Hovering, tiny heads turned in her direction in alarm.
Joss’s breath caught in her throat. “Please don’t go.”
Gram had been right. She’d almost begun to think she’d imagined them at the Halloween party. That perhaps her grandmother’s tales had brought figments of her girlish dreams to life in her mind. Or maybe the night of John’s death, she’d conjured them. The flickers, resembling a disco ball in the foyer on Halloween, might have been some trick of light, explained by the reflection of mirrors and candles.
Yet, here they were, more glorious than she remembered, undeniable in their being.
She lowered to the ground and sat back on her legs. The glow around the fae brightened, and more gathered around like a cloud of energy, warm and loving and full of life. The swarm spread out, then approached until it surrounded her.
Laughing, she held her
open palms skyward. The small figures floated in her aura, feeding it with their nurturing light. Several of the larger ones flickered near her head. Holding very still, Joss instinctively knew they meant to communicate something. The largest alighted at her brow and touched her temple.
A burst of brilliance within her mind erased everything from her sight. Gradually, the light faded to a mist, from which a vision appeared of the lavender field, with the flickering of the fae concentrated above one spot. As if passing through the crowd, the glowing orbs parted to reveal a man and a woman making love. Joss recognized herself, but saw only the man’s strong shoulders and arms wrapped around her. His angled head obscured his face as he kissed her neck, collar bone, and breasts.
Her dream. If it came to her as a half-realized vision earlier, now it played in three dimensional Technicolor. As she watched herself and this man make love, every caress, every lick and thrust, pulsed through her. His sensuous moves brought greater fulfillment than she’d ever known. When it was over, she found herself lying back amongst the lavender, filled with shimmering bliss.
Joss opened her eyes. The largest creature hovered right above her. Without words, it intimated this man was her destiny. Her soul mate and true love. On the night she made love to this man in the lavender, her fate would be sealed, and she would share happiness with him for the rest of her life.
If she hadn’t believed it before, she did now.
Unable to speak, Joss conveyed her gratitude through her thoughts. Gossamer wings fluttered, and the lights lifted into the sky.
She stood to watch them disappear. This time, she knew they’d be back.
* * * *
Where the hell am I? One moment, Sheree had been talking to the dark man in her apartment—another of his rude interruptions, with zero warning—and the next, she was here. Now she needed to find out where here was.
“Cool digs. Kind of dark, though.” She longed to run her fingers over the bronze sculptures of dragons, maybe serpents, sitting on either side of the fireplace. Such a tall fireplace, taller than her. How the fire reached such heights, she couldn’t guess. But hey, supposedly it was The Underworld, right? Where anything was possible. Yeah, except her getting Eric. She grimaced.
