End Detour [The Mystic Museum 4] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Loc Glin

  When Nate first arrived, he’d entertained them with stories of Cecily in school. Nadine thought he had very carefully avoided the bad stuff, and she respected him for that. Hugo may have asked about the bad stuff, but she didn’t. She didn’t want what she feared in her heart to be made a truth.

  Harold barely tolerated Nate. It was such a shame. Nadine had hoped that they would become good friends, but as far as she could tell, Harold wanted nothing to do with Nate. Maybe her son was jealous. Nate was exceptionally good-looking. In the years since he’d arrived he’d turned his body into a marvelous specimen of the male physique. Not that her son was anything to sneeze at, Harold was handsome in a manly way, and his body was honed from years of hard work. Her son was as strong as an ox and smart as a fox. His muscles were defined but not overly bulky. Nadine thought he was perfect. He took after his father. She thought Hugo was perfect, too.

  Her husband moved from the kitchen to the dining room easily. He’d done this enough since her knees started acting up a few years ago, making the job difficult for her. She was scheduled for surgery in a few weeks. She knew her men could take care of themselves, she’d just feel better if there was a woman around for little Billy’s sake. The men sometimes got busy and forgot about the boy. Now that it was summer vacation, Billy would be home alone most of the time while she was in the hospital. Some of the fields already needed harvesting, so the men would definitely be preoccupied. They would have to find someone to take care of Billy so she wouldn’t have to worry over the boy.

  The woman was wearing Cecily’s clothes. When Hugo asked where they were, and told her what he wanted them for, she had one of her “spells,” as her family liked to call her moments of forgetfulness. Nadine knew she was slowly going senile. It was sweet of them to call it something else. Senile made her sound old and feeble, “spells” made her sound eccentric. She knew she was a little of both. She wasn’t kidding herself, though, she was more senile than eccentric.

  Cecily’s clothes fit the woman. Shamika was her name, but she wanted to be called Mika. Very well then, she would call her Mika. Cecily and Mika were both full-figured black women, not fat, just plentifully endowed on the top and bottom, giving the impression of an hourglass figure. Maybe they had a little extra padding here and there, but that just made them better. Mika was very pretty, she had the look of Whitney Houston about her, those same facial features and the light coloring.

  “I sent Billy to fetch the men,” Nadine said from the dining room doorway.

  “Good,” Hugo said. “We’re almost ready aren’t we, Mika?”

  “I suppose.” Shamika shrugged.

  “You seem at home in the kitchen, Mika,” Nadine said.

  “It’s been a while. I used to help my mother set up before I left home. I used to help her cook, too.”

  “That’s good to know. I could use some help in the kitchen. Hugo could get more of his work done if you were willing to help.”

  “I’m going to be stuck here for a week. It would only be fair. I could repay Hugo, and you, for your kindness that way.” She pulled a face.

  Nadine stopped herself from laughing. The girl didn’t want to help in the kitchen. Cecily used to make that same face. She chuckled. “It won’t be that bad, Mika. If it’s been a while, you may even enjoy it.”

  Mika frowned and pursed her lips. She looked like she was trying to control her temper, or maybe her tongue. Hugo had warned Nadine about the language Mika had used when they’d met. Mika was spared further struggle because the men arrived.

  Nate came into the kitchen. Nadine watched appreciation touch and fill his face as he gazed at Mika.

  “Billy said we had company, but he didn’t say she was gorgeous,” Nate said.

  Shamika turned, and her eyes widened when they landed on Nate. Nadine watched Shamika take in Nate’s handsome face and fine physique, and then her eyes narrowed. Maybe Mika didn’t like compliments.

  “Mika, this is Nate Cole. You two may have things in common. Nate came to us from New York City, too.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mika.” Nate clasped Mika’s hand, his thumb caressed the back of it as he raised it to his lips. His smile was dazzling.

  If she were forty years younger she would be swooning, but Nadine noticed that Mika didn’t seem to be affected. Why was that?

  Harold entered at the precise moment Nate’s lips made contact with Shamika’s hand. Mika chose that moment to smile and say, “Same here.”

  Her son stopped dead in his tracks. Nadine watched him try to cover his initial reaction to Shamika’s smile. Nadine knew her son. He had been affected by that smile. It was good to see him interested in a girl again. She knew he was interested, even if he was scowling at the moment. Maybe that scowl was for Nate, not Mika. Harold had noticed Shamika’s figure, she’d seen it in his eyes. These two men were so different. Harold chose to cover his reaction, where Nate jumped on it and pushed forward.

  “Mika, this is my son, Harold.”

  Shamika removed her hand from Nate’s. She had to tug on it twice before Nate released it. Mika’s smile was gone now. She seemed a little annoyed with Nate.

  Nadine observed the subtle reaction Mika had when she looked at Harold. It passed quickly, almost as if it hadn’t been there. One look at Harold’s scowling face had Shamika scowling right back.

  “What the fu—” Shamika glanced at Hugo as she cut the cuss word short. “What’s the matter with you?” she growled at Harold. “I haven’t done anything to warrant that look.”

  Harold’s eyebrows knit even tighter together, if that were possible.

  “It’s good that you curbed that foul mouth. I don’t like a woman that swears.”

  Shamika’s eyebrows rose at that. “Do you think I care what you like? I’ll watch my mouth, but it will be for the boy’s sake, not yours.” Her hands went to her hips. Mika was daring Harold to continue the argument.

  “Now children,” Nadine scolded, but she was actually pleased.

  Harold relaxed his stance. He moved to his mother and kissed her cheek. “For you, Mother, I’ll ignore her lack of manners.”

  Shamika looked like she was about to explode. Nadine noted the satisfied grin that came to her son’s face when he noticed Mika’s agitation. “Behave yourself,” Nadine whispered for Harold’s ears only.

  “Why?” he asked. He appeared serious.

  Nadine frowned at her son. “She’s a guest.”

  “Guest?”

  Nadine nodded.

  “And here I thought Dad had brought home another stray.”

  “Harold,” Nadine warned.

  “All right, if you insist.” He moved away from his mother.

  Shamika stood there. She was struggling to keep her composure. She opened her mouth to speak just as Hugo called her name from the other side of the kitchen. “What?” she snapped and then rolled and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” She went to Hugo.

  Hugo picked up a large bowl of mashed potatoes. “I know,” he said. “Try to ignore my impolite son.” His voice rose a little. “I raised him better than that.” He handed the bowl to her and shot his son a disapproving look, which Harold chose to ignore.

  “Come on everyone. Have a seat,” Nadine ordered.

  Shamika put the potatoes on the table.

  Nate made sure he slipped into the seat next to Shamika. Little Billy was next to Nate. Hugo and Cyrus occupied opposite ends of the table.

  Harold was seated across from Shamika and Nadine sat next to her son.

  Nate seemed quite pleased that he was literally rubbing elbows with Shamika. Mika tried to increase the distance between them, but there wasn’t much table left to her.

  “So, Mika, what did you do to earn a living in New York?” Nate asked.

  “I did a number of things.”

  “Such as?”

  “I waited tables. I washed dishes. I parked cars. I even tried walking dogs.”

  “So you’re one of t
hose people walking five or six dogs at a time?” Nate laughed.

  “I wish I could‘ve handled that many at once. Any more than two, and I was the one being walked not them.”

  “All those dogs being controlled by one person is a sight, I will say that.”

  “They make it look easy. Believe me, it‘s not.”

  “Did it pay well?”

  “If you do five or six at a time it might. For what I could handle, I have to say no, it didn’t pay well, at least not well enough to make up for the responsibility that goes along with it. Those dogs need you at a certain time. If you’re late, you can have a mess to clean up. Sometimes I had auditions and couldn’t make it on time. Their owners didn’t like that. Needless to say, that job didn’t last too long.” She shrugged in dismissal.

  “Where did you live? Maybe I know the area.”

  Shamika seemed to tense at that question. “I moved around a bit. I lived in Manhattan for a time and the Bronx, but mostly in the Queens.”

  “I lived in Manhattan, too. When were you there? Wouldn’t it be something if we were practically neighbors and didn’t know it?”

  Shamika started to look a little nervous, or possibly defensive. Maybe she didn’t like so many questions. Her expression as she said, “Look, Nate, I know you’re trying to put me at ease, but back off,” was positively scathing. It also seemed as if she wanted to add “fucker,” but was being polite.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to piss you off. I was just making conversation.” He sounded hurt.

  Shamika rolled her eyes. “Can we just talk about something else? Like what were you doing in New York? You don’t sound like you were born there.”

  “I wasn’t. I went to Manhattan to go to school. That’s where I met Cecily. Did you know Cecily?”

  “No. I never had the pleasure.”

  “She was something. You would’ve liked her, everybody did.”

  Nadine smiled. Nate was right. Cecily had been popular.

  Hugo cleared his throat. “Harold, did you check out the south pasture today? We need to bring Tootsie in, it’s almost her time. We don’t want to lose a foal to the coyotes or wolves.

  “I’ll go tomorrow.” Harold nodded.

  “Good.” Hugo smiled. “Nate, check the north wheat fields. They may need harvesting soon. We’ll have to call for help if they do.”

  “Sure will, Mister T.”

  “You know he doesn’t like to be called that.” Harold scowled.

  “It’s not my fault your last name begins with a T.”

  “You could call him Mister Turner.”

  “He don’t like that either.”

  “Now, boys,” Nadine admonished. “We’re at the table. No more of these silly squabbles.”

  Harold and Nate stared at each other. The tension between them was thick enough to slice.

  Shamika squirmed a little. “I was wondering what I should call you myself, Mister Turner. Since you don’t like Mister T and Hugo is a little too informal, I was thinking Mister H? How does that sound?”

  “That’s a good fix to a pesky problem. I don’t mind Mister H at all.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” Nate said as he shook his head in disbelief. “It’s such a simple answer.”

  Harold looked over at Shamika. Nadine thought he looked surprised. Did he think the girl had no brains? Nadine had to admit it was a good solution.

  “Nate, you can continue to call me Mrs. T., I don’t mind.” Nate smiled. He is a handsome devil, she thought. “Billy, please say grace.”

  “Do I have to, Nana?”

  Nadine raised her eyebrows.

  “Okay, okay.” He templed his fingers and closed his eyes. “We thank you, Lord, for all these good fiddles.”

  Nadine snickered. “Not exactly what I was looking for, but it will do.” She smiled warmly at her grandson. “When we have company we need to be a bit more formal, Billy.”

  “Aw, man.”

  “No back talk, Billy. Have your manners deserted you altogether? Just because your uncle thinks he can get away with it doesn’t mean that you should, too,” Hugo scolded.

  “Sorry, Pop-pop.”

  Hugo smiled at his grandson. “Be a good boy and pass the chicken. Make sure you take a piece first.”

  “Can I have a drumstick?”

  “What was that I just heard?” Nadine asked, frowning at Billy.

  Billy bowed his head in shame. “May I have a drumstick, please?”

  “That’s better,” Nadine said. “Yes, you may.”

  Shamika was watching and listening to all that was going on. Her face showed so many emotions. Nadine thought Mika must be traveling down memory lane, possibly thinking about her own family and the life she once knew. Shamika leaned forward, waiting for the chicken. Nate took a piece and handed the platter to her. He made a clumsy attempt at touching her hand as he did so. He missed and brushed her breast instead. Shamika’s breath hitched. She looked like she wanted to say something. Maybe she held her tongue so Nate wouldn’t be embarrassed. The potatoes followed the chicken around the table with no further incident that Nadine could see.

  Nadine had never seen Nate work so hard at trying to keep someone’s attention. He seemed to be falling all over this woman. Her son, on the other hand, did his best to ignore her, which was telling in itself. She watched Harold glance at Shamika for her reaction to something that Nate had said. She watched Harold’s eyes narrowing to slits when he thought Nate was being fresh with his innuendos. Why was her son trying to ignore Shamika? Maybe he was attracted to her and didn’t want to make a fool of himself the way Nate was. Lord, she hoped so. Her son needed something or someone, to pull him out of this downward spiral. She was tired of his sour temper and foul moods since Cecily died. Dare she hope that Mika could be the one?

  Chapter 3

  Harold tossed and turned. The night was turning into a sleepless torture. Why couldn’t he get Shamika, no, Mika, out of his head? She was drop-dead gorgeous. Her body was divine. He started getting a hard-on just thinking about it. All through dinner he’d had to fidget. Frequent adjustments had been required so he could maintain a small amount of comfort. His jeans were tight to begin with. They’d become uncomfortably snug in the wrong place the more he’d looked at her. Her breasts had been staring him in the face, making it difficult to concentrate. Nate had certainly paid enough attention to her through dinner. As far as he was concerned, Nate had made a fool of himself. Maybe she liked the pretty boy type, or the type that flattered a woman insincerely. Nate was both.

  He hadn’t reacted this way to a woman in a long time. Maybe it was that ridiculous outfit she had on the first time he’d seen her.

  Had Nate seen that outfit? Was that why he was pushing himself on her? Most of the things Nate said during dinner passed over Billy’s head. Harold was pretty sure his father understood the innuendos, and maybe his mother did, too. Sometimes his mother surprised him. She seemed so innocent and straight-laced, but there were times he’d overheard her talking to his father, well, a mother just shouldn’t talk that way. He was sure his father would disagree, but as a son he just didn’t want to know those things about his mother. Sleep finally overtook him about two in the morning. Unfortunately Mika invaded his dreams, too.

  The day started quite early on the farm. He was always up before dawn. The animals had to be cared for before he could think about taking care of himself. It didn’t matter that he’d had only a few hours of sleep.

  His mother always had a good breakfast ready for him and the other men in the family. Unfortunately Nate had become family as far as his mother was concerned, and Cyrus was family where his father was concerned. Most of the time Nate showed up after Harold had finished, so he didn’t have to suffer Nate’s company very often. Maybe Nate planned it that way.

  This morning his mother was not alone in the kitchen. Mika was there. Mika looked as tired as he felt. Maybe she couldn’t sleep last night either. He frowned. Maybe thoughts of N
ate had kept her awake. Why did that piss them off?

  Mika turned, her eyes locked with his. He raised his eyebrows, because she looked like she was ready to murder him. What the hell had he done to deserve that look? Christ, he hadn’t even said good morning yet.

  “Morning, Mom.”

  “Good morning, sweetie.” Nadine moved to hug her son.

  Harold took his mother into his arms. He returned Mika’s scowl and then some. Mika raised her middle finger, placed it next to her cheek, and then presented him with a sweet smile.

  Why he thought it was funny was beyond him. He stopped himself from laughing, but his lips turned up in a smile.

  His mother released him. She looked at him and pinched his cheeks, both of them at the same time. “I do love those dimples when you smile, makes you so handsome.” She sighed.

  He looked down at his mother. “Mom, I’m too old for you to be pinching my cheeks like that,” he said, smiling fondly at her. He really didn’t mind.

  He glanced at Mika. She looked strange, almost dazed. He wondered what was wrong. He nodded at her and said, “Mornin’.”

  She shook herself out of her stupor. The dazed look was gone. “Morning,” she said. Her tone was almost friendly.

  Nadine moved to the stove. “Sit down. I’ve got your breakfast ready.”