by Candace Colt
Beau’s gallant explanation didn’t help.
“None of this would have except for me. And when the lights dimmed on the stairs? Me,” Abby said. “And just before the transformer blew? Me again.”
“I don’t buy that. There is a technical explanation, and I intend to find it.” Beau stood to leave. “I told you old transformers will blow out on their own. Or there could be a critter nest up there that rotted out the wires. Any number of problems.”
Abby started to walk with him down the back stairs, but Beau shook his head. “Best you stay up here where it’s safe.”
From the front window, Abby watched Beau, the tallest and most muscular, huddle with the other utility line technicians. Another shudder of desire spiked through her, and just as quickly, she tamped it down.
Abby unlocked the pet door and then slumped onto the sofa. “He won’t be back.”
Chapter Twelve
“You’ve lost me, Abby,” Deidra said.
“He didn’t stutter,” Abby said.
Abby ran her fingers along the edge of a sofa cushion. “He made that story up about finding out why the power failed just so he could get out of here. And it’s about time I left town, too.”
“I hear drums and trumpets. Sounds like the parade is close,” Deidra said.
Abby tipped her head to the window. “What parade? I don’t hear anything.”
“Your own pitiful parade of horribles. Can’t you take the man at his word? He’s trying his best to convince you that you had nothing to do with this.”
“Did you hear me? He didn’t stutter,” Abby added.
“Oh, here come the piccolos.”
Abby pursed her lips and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe that would stifle the rising giggle. “Aunt Deidra, this isn’t funny.”
“From where I sit? Yes, it is. Now, how do we get you out of this funk? And where’s Scarlett?”
Abby and Deidra called for the kitten several times, but she was nowhere to be found.
“I guess she’s on another klepto mission,” Abby said.
“Say what?” Deidra asked.
“You think piccolos, trumpets, and drums are noisy? I’m about to add the tubas and trombones.”
“By the way, what is all this stuff on the floor?” Deidra asked.
“There’s still some ice. Care for a soda?”
The women shared their drinks and a tin of potato chips while Abby described Scarlett’s secret bounty.
“She brought all the items in by herself?” Deidra clucked her tongue. “My daughter is gifted in many ways, but she is definitely not the best housekeeper. Thank goodness she married a neat freak. He’s been wrapped up with the outside. I guess both of them missed Scarlett’s antics. You’ve done an excellent job organizing the loot. You could stock a thrift store with all this.”
Abby’s need for order in chaos was another curse, self-imposed but at least useful.
“Now, let’s talk about you and Beau,” Deidra said.
“There’s no me and Beau.”
“There could be. He’s handsome, smart, considerate, and available. You’re beautiful, intelligent, clever, and available. I don’t see a problem.”
Abby squeezed her aunt’s hand. “You’re a charming optimist.”
“Somebody around here needs to be. What’s holding you back?”
“Oh, let’s see.” Abby tapped her lips and fluttered her eyelids. “I don’t have a job. I live on a shoestring. I’ve been engaged twice and called it off twice. Oh, and I’m cursed.”
“I saw that spark between the two of you.”
Abby snapped her gaze back to her aunt. “Funny pun. If you saw anything, it was just the curse acting up.”
“Sure. Blame the curse. As I recall, you didn’t want to get involved with a guy before traveling the world first. Check that off the list. Before that, it was college. Check that off, at least partially. You got engaged to the same goofy loser twice. Thank goodness you realized in time that he wasn’t the right one. And it’s hard to hold down a job when you’re off chasing another adventure. So, Miss Footloose-and-Fancy Free, I think there’s more to this story.”
Abby’s jaw dropped. How could her aunt be this harsh? And so right.
“Well, this is news. A quiet Abigail. Cat got your tongue?” Deidra chortled at her own joke.
“Haha, yourself,” Abby said. “At least I live on my own terms. Anything wrong with that?”
“Goodness, no. I raised a brood of independents. But at some point, Abby, you have to shove that curse back where it came from. And the first step is—.”
“See Luna.”
“First, stop using a curse as armor to shield yourself from falling in love. And I mean real love. I’ve known Beau since he was a boy, and he’s grown into quite the sexy hunk. He’d be perfect for you. But I’m your dear old aunt. What do I know about men?”
Abby’s soft drink gurgled up and out her nose. “Aunt Deidra.” She coughed.
Deidra took their glasses to the sink, then turned to her niece. “May I remind you that I have three kids? They didn’t come from the cabbage patch, sweetie.”
Abby squinted. If her aunt talked about scoring again—
“Go outside and ask Beau for updates. I’ll stay here and see if Scarlett’s hiding under a bed.”
“I don’t think Beau wants anything more to do with me,” Abby said.
“The way he looks at you? Yum. Yum. My friends are still talking about him, so if you don’t want him, I know a few who do.”
“Oh, my God! Aunt Deidra!” This was not a discussion Abby wanted to prolong. “I’m going downstairs.”
On the street in front of the studio sat an enormous flatbed truck holding three new transformers. Between her aunt’s lecture and this spectacle, Abby had messed up big time.
Behind the Mercantile, school buses were pulling away from the Lancaster High parking lot. An unplanned early release would be a giant pain for everyone, except maybe for the students.
Fingers interlocked behind her back, Abby marched toward Beau and the utility workers. She could pick up a few comments but nothing about a time frame for the power to come online.
As she approached, Beau left the work crew and came to her side.
“Mechanical issue, Abby. Just like I told you,” he said. “The old transformer couldn’t handle the load any longer. When this one failed, it caused a chain reaction across the grid. Three new ones are ready to install, but it will be hours. I’m going over to Zane’s clinic to see how they’re doing.”
Hours? Abby’s temples throbbed. “Beau,” she called after him. “Can you keep an eye out for Scarlett? She took off again.”
The work crew turned toward them again and burst into guffaws and teasing chants of ‘here kitty kitty.’
Beau stopped midstride, his broad-shoulders facing away from her. After a long moment, he turned. His face was strawberry red as he pointed to The Magic Potter’s roof.
“She’s u—p th—ere,” he said and dashed toward the animal clinic.
Abby’s shoulders stiffened, and she turned her gaze up to the roof. Again?
If Scarlett could find a way up, she could find a way down, and all by herself. Abby wasn’t going to spend the afternoon worrying about that cat.
Wreaking havoc for half of Cat’s Paw Cove, and the reality check from her aunt were the last straws. Abby’d had enough. She started back to the studio but then froze.
Wait. Had Beau Grayson tripped on his words again? Yes, he had.
Did that mean he still thought she was attractive?
“Zane, I’ll check back with you when the power’s back up. Hope you weren’t in the middle of surgery,” Beau said.
“I’d just set up for a neutering procedure, but I suspect the patient won’t mind. All of us along Bent Tail knew this would happen sooner or later,” Zane said. “At least our generator supports the medication refrigerators.”
Beau started to leave but decided to ask about Scarlett�
��s little problem. “Zane, you’ve seen your share of strange cat behavior. Ever heard of them stealing things?”
The vet drew back. “Stealing? I’ve had clients tell me their cats hide toys, or an occasional dead chameleon or bird, in odd places. Most felines get distracted from the habit and move on to other tricks. But it can freak out an owner to see mummified lizards under the couch. What prompted that question?”
Beau pictured the array in the middle of Abby’s living room. “I’m told the new cat next door has a voracious hiding habit.”
“Ah, yes. Scarlett. I caught her dragging something of mine across the driveway a while back. She panicked when I yelled at her and shot me a look like I was the devil incarnate. It was so funny to watch that I let her go. Even now, when she sees me, she gives me the evil eye. She’s a handful.”
“Remember what she took?” Beau asked.
“How could I forget? We were in the process of planting catmint and had everything lined up assembly style and ready. I don’t know how she managed it, but that cat dragged off an empty plastic pot. Can you imagine?”
Could he imagine? Try being an eyewitness to the evidence.
Chapter Thirteen
Beau leaned against his pick-up as the crane lowered the blown transformer to the flatbed truck. The guys would be lucky if this job was done before dark. His promise to everyone on Bent Tail Boulevard to come by and check their place meant he likely wouldn’t be home till late.
A part of him missed working for the utility company. Besides learning a trade, and the teamwork and camaraderie, he’d made darn good money. But he’d had a dream to be in business for himself. Damn unpredictable stammer made him work twice as hard to prove himself. Some, like his father, never thought he could make it on his own. Beau could still hear the words you’ll fail coming from his old man.
It meant more than money to show to the world, and himself, that he could succeed. But if his customer base didn’t increase soon, he’d have to sell out and get his old job back. If they’d have him.
It didn’t help that every bookkeeper he’d ever hired had given him grief about his accounting methods or lack thereof. His problem was that he loved seeing his customers’ appreciative smiles when he fixed things. Handing them a bill spoiled the moment.
Apparently, not asking for payment on the spot wasn’t the customary way to do business. He supposed he should slack off on the freebie services, too. But how could he charge for things like checking Zane’s office?
Beau could kick himself. How could he have been talked into striking a deal with a cat? The hasty decision to help Abby had happened before he’d discovered the feline had cooked up a one-sided quid pro quo. And worse? Scarlett was in collusion with Kristy Wilshire.
He tossed the work glove into the truck with its mate. Now that he had it back, what did it matter if the kitten robbed the city blind?
But could Scarlett be trusted to keep her word? The vet had explained that most grew tired of hiding things. A reasonable explanation for most felines, but the Blessing cat? Beau glanced back to the roof. Sure enough, Scarlett was still there, watching him.
He had no intention of getting the ladder back out and climbing up there just for her. He rubbed the spot on his shoulder where those claws had dug into him the last time she’d hitched a ride. She could find her own way down.
By seven, The Magic Potter’s power was restored. Deidra had left before dark, and last Abby had checked, Scarlett was still on the roof.
Abby was by herself in the two-story building. She wasn’t scared, but she was lonely. She’d started a new tidying up project, Theo’s kitchen. How could someone not be organized in one of the most essential rooms in the house?
She’d taken everything out of the cabinets and sorted them in groups on the kitchen floor. Her next task would be a deep cleaning of each shelf and drawer. After that, she’d wash each item before putting it away.
The work plan kept her mind occupied and off the curse, and off Beau Grayson. While on a stepstool and reaching far back into a cabinet, Abby barely heard someone knocking on the kitchen door. Who’d climb the back stairs at this hour?
She looked over her shoulder. Beau! Her monkey mind went into a full out frenzy. What had brought him back here? More problems with power? And her hair probably looked like she’d stuck a finger into a socket.
Abby took a deep, slow breath and willed herself not to say or think anything remotely related to the word.
She took one more breath for luck and went to the door.
“Come in,” she said as brightly as she could. She wiped her hand across her forehead and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Excuse the mess.”
“Holy crap.” Beau trod lightly amid jars, pans, plastic lids, and kitchenware to find a bare spot to stand. “More of Scar—let’s work?”
Abby laughed as she tossed her cleaning rag into the sink.
“No. No. Totally my idea. Cleaning and straightening up is my wedding gift for Theo,” she said.
“Big job,” he said.
“Organizing is my therapy.”
“Looks like the neigh—borhood is okay,” he said as he looked over the piles on the floor.
Heat trailed up her neck. Was he stuttering again? She stared at her feet to hide her smile.
“I can fix you a sandwich,” she said, hoping that might keep him here longer.
“I’m ex—hausted. I w—ouldn’t be much com—pany.”
Beau was wrong. He’d be great company, but despite her aunt’s encouragement, Abby wouldn’t push it. Obviously, the man didn’t want to stay.
“Maybe another time?” she asked.
“Lot on my plate. Can’t pro—mise.”
She brushed away the stray curl that had popped loose again. It didn’t take a college degree to see that he was brushing her off, too.
As he edged to the door, his heel landed on a pile of plastic lids scattering discs all across the floor.
“Sorry,” he said as he gathered them.
When he handed the stack to Abby, their fingers touched, and a tiny snap arced between them.
Beau rapidly shook his hand. “Static.”
“I guess.” Abby hastily reshuffled the lids into matching sizes and colors.
“Well, good n—ight.” Stopping on the threshold, he turned to Abby. “And Scar—lett’s still on the r—oof.”
Scarlett. Beau had left so quickly that Abby had forgotten to ask about this deal he’d struck with the cat. Annoyed, she grabbed her cleaning rag and scrubbed the countertops like a madwoman.
As she rinsed and wrung out the cloth, she wondered what she’d do once Theo and Ethan came home. Three’s a crowd for newlyweds. She’d go back home. But do what?
She didn’t have a job. Maybe she’d take the rest of the classes she needed for her associate’s degree. Before the curse, she’d enjoyed college. Now it meant crowds, socializing, and the sword over her head that she might meet a guy, say the word and refuel the catastrophic cycle.
Abby surveyed the ridiculous kingdom of inanimate objects she’d assembled, then threw the cleaning cloth against the cabinet; it rebounded and slapped her face. The sting on her cheek was nothing compared to the hurtful awakening.
Her gift of organizing had morphed into an obsession. It had become more comfortable to dive into someone else’s junk rather than deal with her own.
Everything her aunt had preached earlier showered down on her. Abby was always on the run from something. She’d let a curse control her life and provide a scapegoat for avoiding commitment. What was it that she feared the most? The curse? Or herself?
Beau Grayson wasn’t like other men she’d met. Sure, he had flaws, but who didn’t? His issues didn’t stop him from living life. She couldn’t imagine him sitting on a stool in a kitchen, surrounded by pots and pans, and soaking in a pool of self-pity. Abby had to get help or be prepared to accept a life of wiping crumbs out of other people’s kitchen cabinets.
Abby came
down from the stool, and once again blew that resistant lock of hair away from her eyes. She surveyed the shiny clean countertops and empty cabinets. So. Did she put all the items back where she’d found them, or did she arrange them in a new and better way?
She ran her fingers through her hair that had fuzzed out in fifty different directions. Tomorrow was Thursday, and The Magic Potter would be closed except for lessons. She was free to do what she wanted. First thing tomorrow, she’d set an appointment for her hair, and then she’d call Luna. Time to reverse the old hag’s curse, once and forever.
Chapter Fourteen
Abby should have worn blinders. Walking through town to the Claws-N-Coifs salon in Calico Court had been a terrible idea. Not because it was a gorgeous day, and the exercise would do her good. Not because everyone she’d met along the way had been super friendly.
It had slipped her mind that it was almost Valentine’s Day. Cat’s Paw Cove’s store windows were blanketed with colorful decorations. Posters everywhere advertised the Ball on the fourteenth at the Sherwood House. She pulled her cap tighter and kept her eyes averted to the sidewalk.
Yes, this had been a terrible idea.
At Claws-N-Coifs, Ramona, a bleached blond in her mid-forties, wearing what else but dangling pink and red heart earrings, swirled a plastic cape over Abby’s shoulders. “So, hon, what are we going to do today?”
After she pumped up the chair, the stylist patted Abby’s head. “Girl, you sure can grow gorgeous hair. It makes me think of that movie. You know, the one with that Betty Middle lady in it.”
If Abby had a dollar for every person who’d compared her hair to Bette Midler’s character’s, she’d be rich. Abby managed a polite smile and pointed to places where her hair was more out of control than other spots.
“Can you shape this up?” she asked.
“You betcha, hon. I like to cut hair when it’s wet, especially curly locks.”
