by Linda Palmer
He grinned. “That’ll be my first priority when we get back home.”
Home. Wow, did that word have an impact on my father or what?
He went very still and didn’t speak for a second, his face flushing more by the second, though probably not from anger. Or maybe it was. “So you’re not coming back to Lake Village to live?”
“Not right away, at least.”
“But what about your schooling? Have you given up on MSU?”
“Yes. No.” I sighed. “I’m not sure. I’m obviously not attending spring classes since they’ve already started. As for the fall, maybe I’ll enroll. I just don’t know yet. Everything has changed, and I’m a little���confused, I guess. But when I decide, you’ll be the first—” I flicked a glance at Erik “—well, maybe the second to know.”
Dead silence followed that and lasted for a couple of minutes. Dad’s mantel clock ticked loudly in the background. I heard outside traffic and the sound of the central heat kicking on. Wishing for something clever to say, I looked at Erik and then my stepmother.
Megan cleared her throat and came to the rescue. “I read about The Arm in the paper. Wasn’t a man named Titus Leopold involved?”
I looked at her in surprise since I’d deliberately left him out of my story and had no idea that any paper would report paranormal news. Then I remembered that Titus probably led a seemingly normal life just as Yarbrough had. Naturally their friends, customers, or coworkers who weren’t in the know would wonder about them. The Corteggio probably reported the story to avert suspicion. “Yes. His family started it a long time ago.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I believe I read something about him online, too, and it was very different from what the newspapers reported.”
That surprised me even more. “Really? Where?”
“One of those conspiracy theory sites.” She laughed self-consciously. “I teach modern mythology, so I try to keep up.”
“What did it say about Titus?”
“That he was a Paladin or Paladine or Palatine—I’d never heard the term before, so I’ve forgotten it. Supposedly he ran a secret gang of werewolves who were really teens he’d abducted from all over the world and turned. They apparently mutinied and some kind of supernatural FBI started shutting everyone down.”
Her answer was so close to the truth that I couldn’t find my tongue for a second. Luckily Erik could think on his feet. “Wow. That’s pretty out there.”
Megan and Dad exchanged a laugh and sheepish looks. Her twinkling gaze found mine. “So you won’t be shifting into a werewolf for us?”
“Not anytime soon.” That, at least, was the truth. I’d played the situation by ear and decided to keep my secret for now. Though both of them would probably promise not to repeat the mysteries I revealed, the temptation to do it before a class of curious students might be too much, especially for Megan. “Um, walk with me, Dad?”
“Sure.”
Neither Erik nor Megan commented on my exclusive invitation. Guess they both knew I wanted alone time with my dad. Hoping I hadn’t put Erik in an awkward position, I grabbed my jacket and scooped up the gift bag I’d left in the foyer earlier. Dad slipped on the cardigan he’d taken from a hook by the back door. He and I walked outside and through our big back yard, which had several flower gardens in it. The winter roses had diehard blooms, and a few brave daffodil leaves were already peeking out the ground, but that was it.
I headed to our gazebo and the bench swing there. We both sat. He kicked it into motion with his foot as I handed him his gifts. “Happy birthday and Merry Christmas. Sorry I missed them.”
Dad just shook his head and opened the bag. He seemed to like what I’d gotten. “Thanks, baby girl.”
“You’re welcome. I’m really sorry I wasn’t able to get word to you that I was okay before now. I think I might’ve been a little brainwashed or something. Looking back, I wonder why I was such a wuss.”
“It’s all right. You did the best you could at the time, and I’m very grateful you’re here now. And if anyone is sorry, it’s me. I let well-meaning friends influence me into having that memorial service when I should’ve kept the faith. You never felt dead to me, not even for a moment.”
“Maybe you were doing the best you could do, too.”
“Maybe.”
“I need to tell you I’m in love with Erik,” I blurted as he held up the T-shirt for size.
“I guessed that. Is he the reason you’re not coming home?”
“Part of it, I guess. I’m not sure if he loves me back or not, so don’t be mad at him. This is all me, trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. I’ve changed in a lot of ways. I’m not exactly sure who I am anymore.”
He clearly understood. “You’ll figure it out. And as far as you not coming back home���well���every dad with a daughter knows that day is coming. In a way, I’m prepared since you’ve been gone so long. I’m just glad it has nothing to do with Megan, who is really a remarkable young woman.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Oh God no. Do you think she thinks that?”
Dad chuckled. “Actually, she’s too levelheaded for that kind of foolishness, even if she researches weird things on the internet.”
Smiling, I laced my fingers with his and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I can see she’s good for you.”
“She was there for me during a very dark time. Probably saved my life.”
My eyes filled. I knew that dark time well. “Then I’m really glad you found each other.”
“Ditto. Now tell me about this mystery man of yours.”
I spent the next fifteen minutes doing just that. And by the time we went back inside, both of us chilled to the bone, I felt pretty good about things and Dad seemed to, too.
We ate dinner with them around 6:00—steaks on the grill—and left around 7:30 after Erik gave Dad his address: 10 Willow Woods Road. It surprised me that there was one. I’d sure never seen a mail box or a number on the cabin. But every house had to have an address according to law so that emergency services to get to them if need be. Maybe the post office had a rule, too.
Before we left, Dad gave me a huge tub of my things that he hadn’t had the heart to get rid of. I was thrilled when I saw that my purse was in there. He told me my credit card was probably still good, but if it had expired, he’d have a new one sent to me. He also said he’d sold my car. I could tell he felt bad about it and quickly let him off the hook. Why on earth would he hold onto it if he truly thought I was dead?
Clearly Dad still had a lot of guilt about “giving up on me,” as he called it. I assured him that I didn’t blame him for trying to get on with his life. It was all behind us now.
“I’ll buy you a new car.”
“I’ll buy my own when I get a job,” I told him.
“You’re just nineteen. I should be paying the bills.”
“You can co-sign on the loan,” I retorted with a teasing smile I hoped would soothe him.
“At least your savings is still intact. Since my name was on the account, too, I just let it ride.” He dug his wallet out of his back pocket. “Do you need any money?”
“I have enough for now. If I get in a tight, I’ll call you.”
“On what? I canceled your phone.”
“Now that pisses me off.”
Chuckling, Dad invited us to dinner the following weekend to celebrate Megan’s thirty-fifth birthday. He was planning something special. Of course we said we’d be there.
In parting, my father gave me the longest, tightest hug ever, so naturally I cried once Erik and I were back in his car. I realized I’d felt that relieved only once before in my life: when the Corteggio carted Yarbrough off to prison and told me I was free to go. Erik’s springing that trap in the woods rated very high, too, making those events a three-way tie.
Had I hurt my dad by not moving back home? If so, he hid it well. Though I was pretty sure he was disappointed on some level, he
’d raised me to be independent, and that meant letting me live my own life. At least I’d given him the peace of knowing I was alive and happy. As for the memorial plaque in the family plot next to my mom’s grave, Erik and I took care of that before we left town. We pulled the thing from the frozen ground and tossed it in a big green trash barrel.
On the drive back to the cabin, I asked Erik questions about job opportunities in Branson. I didn’t want to mooch on him much longer, even if we might be mated for life. He told me about the College of the Ozarks in Lookout Point, which was just a couple of miles from Branson. Erik said that a few of his friends were going there and according to them, tuition was free because students participated in work study programs and got state and university scholarships. He also said a guy he knew was majoring in Computer Information Science, which sounded right up my alley.
“So you think I should go back, too, huh?” I asked.
“Just trying to keep your pop happy.”
“And what about Bronte? Shouldn’t she be happy?”
“Yes, which is why I don’t want you to settle for a waitressing or secretary job somewhere. You’ve got skills. I know for a fact you’ll be better satisfied if you use them.”
I smiled even though he probably couldn’t see my expression in the dark. Was my guy brilliant, or what?
Erik didn’t take his eyes off the road, which was icy in places. “We’ll go to their website when we get to the cabin. You can check out everything.”
“And speaking of websites, I want to Google Titus Leopold and see what kind of stories are circulating about him. Megan hit a little too close to home this afternoon.”
“Yeah. That was wicked weird.”
“And the last thing I expected.”
We got to the cabin around 9:00 thanks to slick roads and one pit stop to buy drinks we sipped the rest of the way there. Once we were indoors with flaming logs in the fireplace, I was so wired I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep for hours. So I turned on Erik’s iPod and listened to his playlist. We had similar tastes, but were not an exact match by any means. I realized I liked not knowing everything about him; I looked forward to all the surprises awaiting us. I also realized he had a point about taking things slow. Why rush through this time of discovery? After all, spending days and days together might actually increase the chances of his falling for me as hard as I’d fallen for him. With luck, forever would eventually happen for us.
Forever. Wow. If we lasted that long we’d certainly defy modern odds. How could two people who’d known each other less than a week actually believe they’d be together that long? They couldn’t, that’s how. It was just too crazy, which totally explained Erik’s doubts.
Of course crazy depended on point of view.
From where I sat, the possibility of spending my life with Erik wasn’t loco at all. In fact, it made perfect sense. I could’ve crashed anywhere in the Ozarks, but I did it within walking distance of his cabin. That trap was buried under snow on a two-by-two patch of earth in a forest that went on for miles, yet I’d somehow found and stepped in it. Erik could’ve been the trapper who’d set it. Instead, he was a photographer with a big heart and a determination to set me free. And then there was his reaction to my dual nature. Not only had he accepted my reality, something most people probably couldn’t, he’d asked to be included in it.
I called those things destiny. Fate. Our karma.
And that made me one lucky girl. Now all I had to do was convince Erik he was one lucky guy.
We shared a bed again that night. I cuddled up to Erik, who played with my hair.
“Is this real?” He wrapped some strands around his finger.
“If you’re asking if you and I are actually lying in your bed, then I’ll have to say yes.”
“I’m talking about our feelings for each other—our so-called chemistry. Is it real? Will it last? Evolve into something more permanent? I guess what I’m asking is does anyone actually mate for life these days?”
So he was still stewing about that. Good. That beat giving up on it. “Not as many as used to.”
“But it’s possible, right?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“And why do you believe that?”
I raised my head to look into his dark eyes. “Because sometimes people are perfect for each other, Erik. Two of a kind meant to be together.”
“You’re talking about predestination,” he murmured sleepily.
“Yes.”
“I believe we make our own destinies.”
“If we do, I must’ve done something really bad when I was little.”
Since Erik softly snored instead of answering, I soon nodded off, too.
****
Friday the two of us pretty much goofed around all day. We hiked for starters. He took me to a natural spring, where he took more pictures. Around noon, we sat on a flat rock near it and had a winter picnic.
“I can’t believe all this land is yours,” I said, looking all around in appreciation and awe. A bright blue sky curved over us. To our left, a stream flowed past, twisting and turning its way to lower ground. To our right, lay the woods. I heard birds singing, the bark of a squirrel, wind rustling through the evergreens. The snow sparkled as if someone had strewn glitter on it.
I cherished the normalcy and companionship without a thought of Red, Buzz Cut and Blondie, who were still out there somewhere. I realized Erik was so much a part of my life that I couldn’t imagine living without him. So when he stuffed our trash into the bag that had once held our lunch and then turned to me with that sexy smile of his, I naturally took advantage of our solitude and gave him a tender kiss. He naturally returned it.
“How long are you going to live with me?” he asked moments later, playing with my natural curls.
I took his question very seriously. “That depends.”
“On?”
“You, of course. I don’t want to be a moocher or wear out my welcome.”
“As if. You can stay as long as you like. Forever, even. The cabin won’t be home without you in it.”
I liked the sound of that. “Thanks. I’ll pay my share of everything, of course.”
“So you’re thinking of staying forever? Because if you are, we should add some girl things so it won’t be such a man cave.”
“Good idea. I know exactly what we need.”
With that in mind, we drove to the nearest Wal-Mart in the afternoon. I bought a television that I intended to buy a satellite dish for as soon as I had a job—just planning ahead. I missed my shows on the SyFy channel. I also bought some scented candles, a couple of throw pillows, a hair pick and detangler, and, once we left there, our dinner. We ate at a restaurant where Erik wasn’t known. I thought of it as our first date but didn’t mention that to him. Whether or not he knew it, we’d officially begun a journey I intended to end in the intimacy I craved with him.
As always, we shared his bed that night with moonlight spilling over the blankets. Saturday morning, I cooked us a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and biscuits. We were seated at the table eating when the distinct whine of an engine broke the usual early morning silence of his winter woods. Erik and I looked at each other in surprise and listened. A truck or car was clearly getting closer by the minute.
He was up in a flash with me right behind. I handed him the gun I’d snatched from the corner. He quickly loaded the chamber. By then our visitor had reached the back of the house. My heart pounded in my chest; my hands shook. Whoever was out there had made no attempt to approach quietly.
I hoped that was a good thing.
Chapter Thirteen
With our gazes locked, Erik and I listened to the crunch of feet on frozen snow as someone rounded the back corner of the house en route to the front porch. The sound of a conversation confirmed more than one visitor. I naturally thought of Uncle Greger, though Erik surely had other relatives and even friends who knew where he lived. I was actually a little surprised when I realized he’d had no p
hone calls but the one since I’d been living in the cabin. How could a guy with his personality not have tons of friends?
Shoes thumped on the front porch. Someone knocked. I grabbed Erik’s arm, my heart now jack hammering wildly. He pushed me behind him and, careful to keep the rifle out of sight, opened the door a smidgen. I saw him relax. “Hey.”
“Hey,” answered a familiar voice. “Is Bronte home?”
It took me a second to place the speaker. Levi Crane. I stepped around Erik and opened the door wider so I could see. Yep. It was him and Ben DeLuca. I breathed a sigh of relief even as I wondered why they could possibly be there. Did they have news about The Arm, maybe? “You guys are out early. Come on in. We’re having breakfast and there’s actually enough for everyone.”
“No thanks,” said DeLuca. “But you two go ahead.”
We stepped back so he and Crane could come in. Both noticed the rifle, but didn’t comment on it. As I pointed to the couch, I noticed they were wearing suits today, which probably meant official business of some kind. They walked over to that part of the living area and sat.
Though I’d actually lost my appetite, I did try to finish eating, as did Erik. We exchanged several speculative glances. Was this visit a good thing or bad thing? I didn’t like the vibe I was getting, so finally pushed my plate away in defeat and got up to join them. Erik did the same, sitting in the side chair.
I perched on the arm of it. “What’s up, guys? Are you here with an update on those jerks who broke in to get the laptop?”
“Partly,” said DeLuca, as usual the spokesman of the pair.
I waited.
DeLuca continued. “Whit Wilson, leader of the pack that attacked you here in the cabin, has apparently moved his headquarters from south Texas to Missouri. We think he’s broadening his territory.”
“Shit!” Erik exclaimed. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing yet,” said DeLuca. “And at the moment we think it’s best to observe them until we figure out what they’re up to.”
