by Jackie Zack
Several minutes later, the path widened into a dirt road. Dafina’s house stood within sight. So—that had to mean the first path he’d taken at the conjunction was right. It had only looked like the other path with the blackened tree trunks. Or more than likely the fire had spread to the other trail to give it the same appearance as the other. He wiped a tired, dirty hand over his face.
The lights were on in her house—she was still awake. Certainly she’d be okay with letting him stay another night in the stone cottage.
He stumbled by a black car parked behind hers. Oh, no. She had company. He hated to interrupt, but what else could he do? Way too exhausted to try to walk to town, he heaved his tired body up the steps and knocked on her door.
Footfalls sounded by the other side of the door and the curtain moved. She probably wondered who was stupid enough to be on her porch at this time of night. The door opened, blinding him with light for a second. Through squinted eyes, he made out her smiling face and a rather stunned face of an older woman.
“Darling! There you are! We were worried about you.” Dafina took hold of his arm, pulling him in and gave him a warm lovely kiss on his dirty lips.
Chapter 8
There was something about Dafina, and it included her kiss. A few seconds longer and Kory would’ve seen fireworks. Dafina pulled him through the door while the older lady looked him up and down.
“What ‘appened to you?” The chubby lady with graying hair interrupted.
All he wanted was to focus on Dafina. “Uh—”
“He’s been on a survey.” Dafina kept her eyes on his.
Kory smiled. She seemed quite on her own study. Did his expression betray his emotions?
“A survey?” The older woman spat the word like it was the most absurd thing.
“Aye, a survey. My ‘usband is a writer.”
Kory choked and coughed. Husband! Dafina’s stern expression told him not to blow it and go with the flow.
“I didn’t know George was an author. Why don’t you tell me these things?” The woman’s thick hand smoothed down her shirt collar and patted her hair.
“Oh, and don’t call him George either. He goes by his middle name, Kory.”
“Ah.” The older woman nodded.
“And this is your—” Kory looked for any readable hint on Dafina’s face.
“Aunt. Aunt Nesta.” Dafina’s eyes begged him. For what he wasn’t sure. His mind still whirled at being her husband.
“That’s right.” He said it like he knew all along. Yes, totally expecting the family member…aunt.
Dafina’s gaze slid down his wet muddy shirt to his equally dirty pants.
“I—ah—fell down a couple of times. When it was raining—slipped in the mud. Sorry, honey.” He smiled, all but sure his face had turned lopsided with a crooked grin by using an endearment for his new wife. Lying wasn’t one of his strong-suits. He looked off to his left to see the warrior angel painting staring at him. Really he hadn’t lied, but playing along was—
“Let’s take care of you right away. Have a seat, Nesta. We’ll be right back.” Dafina grabbed his arm and took him down the hall by the restroom. “What happened? Are you okay,” she hissed.
“Dear wife, why are you angry?” A complete one-eighty from the sweet kiss and the shortest honeymoon in history.
“I’m not angry at you,” she hissed again. “Quite a jolt to see you all mucky and bruised. Tell me what ‘appened.” Dafina pulled him into her bedroom.
“The two darrens, as you call them—”
“What did they do? Please tell me they are in worse shape than you.”
“Uh—”
“Kooory.” Her eyes implored a good answer.
“They bound me up at gunpoint and stole my wallet—well the money I had in it. They ditched the wallet, and I found it. They took the bike.”
She sighed. “They didn’t hurt you?”
“No. At least they’re gone for good this time. I don’t have anything else they’d want.”
Dafina turned away and bent down, reaching in her closet. She mumbled something.
“What?”
She pulled out a headless body from her closet and unbuttoned the shirt. The fodder for his writing career was endless here.
“You’re going to need some clean, dry clothes. I don’t suppose you have trousers and a shirt in your backpack?”
Whoa. This was worse than fessing up to his mother that he hadn’t planned his vacation well. Keep it short, Kory. “No.”
She rolled her eyes. “Americans.”
“I wanted to travel light. Is that a sin, dear wife?”
“Ah, bogies. Quit calling me that. You can take these clothes, and I’ll get you a towel. You’ll surely need more than a swill in the bosh.”
“A what?” Love her.
“You’ll need more than a wash in the sink. Agreed?”
“Yes. A swill in the shower and then put on Pop’s clothes?” He chuckled.
“More than a swill—and yes. I’m afraid it’s the only manly things I ‘ave.”
After she took the pillows and papers out of the shirt and jeans that made up the dummy, she handed the clothes to him along with a towel and washcloth.
Before disappearing into the bathroom, he leaned close to her. “And how is it now that I’m your husband?”
“Please pretend…for now,” she whispered, and batted her eyelashes. “And hurry, Aunt Nesta is waiting.”
Dafina lingered and watched the bathroom door shut. A dull thud sounded as Kory must’ve clunked his elbow against the door. She took in a breath of relief and stress slipped away. Just having him here gave her hope that she could deal with her aunt. Kory didn’t seem too put out about helping and acting the part of her husband.
Reluctantly, she headed back to the lounge and sat in a chair by Nesta who immediately started a dissertation on all of her lovely, brainy daughter’s accomplishments and travels. Dafina thought she was either going to fall asleep or lose her dinner. Clearly her cousin Ruby’s life was as near to perfect as one’s could be—along with her rich, successful fiancé who, of course, was madly in love with her and bestowed her gifts of jewels, expensive chocolates, and exotic flowers. Gag!
Dafina did her best to smile and nod, but felt a nasty frown coming on. Footfalls in the hallway alerted her that Kory was done with his shower and headed their way. He wore the flannel shirt over the jeans, both too big on him. He gave her an endearing smile and sat on the sofa.
She moved to sit next to him and held his warm, squeaky clean hand. His hair was a shade darker from still being wet, making him even more striking, if that were possible. A spicy woods scent emanated from him. Her ex never smelled that good.
“You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve lost some weight and apparently all my other clothes are in the dirty laundry,” he said in a charming manner to Nesta.
She waved it away and almost blushed. “I don’t think anyone ever mentioned that Geor—Kory is American.”
“Yes. But I guess you can see why he’s me ‘usband. Can’t you?” She leaned toward him and gripped his bicep, immediately losing her breath at the sensation as the muscle sprang to life and flexed. She took in a shaky breath. “Have you ever met a more kindhearted, sweet man?”
“Goodness. You can tell by looking at ‘im that he’s a dear. How did you meet?”
Dafina stole a glance at his eyes and for certain she could see to his soul. How could he convey such a loving warm look? Bless him. “Met him at the bookstore, I did. He was on a holiday and stopped to find some writing and reading material. It was—uh—love at first sight.”
“It sure was, darling.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “For both of us.”
She thought back to his stunned expression when she first saw him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. And now his words rang true. She realized that she had to be smiling with a silly faraway expression, probably as dumb as the face she drew on Pops.
“Are you
okay? You look a little light-headed.” He scrutinized her expression far too intently.
“I’m just a little off, didn’t ‘ave much to eat today.”
“Why not?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Busy—I guess.”
“Honey, you should take better care of yourself.”
Huh? What was he doing? He headed off into the kitchen. She gave her aunt an I-don’t-know expression and shook her head. Nesta smiled, but was it genuine? Kory returned with a glass of milk and handed it to her.
“Nesta, can I get you anything?” Kory turned to her aunt.
“Thank you, no.” Nesta frowned.
Kory sat beside Dafina and held her hand as before.
“That should help—protein. You could be expecting. After all, we have been trying.” He whispered and gave her a quick wink.
She coughed and sputtered on the milk. “Right-oh, love.”
“Drink up.” Kory motioned.
She drank the whole glass down then whispered back. “I can feel the baby kicking.”
Kory’s eyes widened. “Really? Are you…?” His surprised expression made her laugh.
“Could you speak up over there? I’m missing all the fun.” Aunt Nesta twirled a hand. “Did I hear right? Are you expecting?”
“Uh—” Dafina wracked her brain as she stared at Nesta. What should she say? She looked over at Kory who also seemed to be holding his breath for the answer. But it was he who brought them to this uncomfortable conversation. Writers. Americans. American writers. “It’s too early to tell.”
Griff must have had his limit of all the strange vibes and hand squeezing that he jumped up on the couch and positioned himself between her and Kory. She let go of his hand to pet Griff then dared a glance at Kory. The warmth in his eyes still lingered, but somberness overshadowed it.
“Tell me now. How did you become a writer? What do you write? How do you get your ideas? What are you working on?” Nesta leaned forward in eagerness to hear it all.
Dafina relaxed and listened to Kory. He answered her questions in a humble, energetic process. He talked about his childhood, riding bikes with his friend Luke. The adventures they had, finding new paths. The scary stories they made up and told each other. How he realized he could be taken into any thrilling ride or frightening adventure through writing. He talked about his college professors, writing his first manuscript, rejection, writing more novels, and finding an agent. Landing contracts at a publisher. Books signings, fans.
She learned so much about him from his answers. Why hadn’t she thought to ask such questions? What was wrong with her that she hadn’t? She assumed she was relatively a smart, curious individual. Ah. Kory had gotten into her head. That was it. She couldn’t think straight around him, although she gave every impression to herself and him that she could. Bother.
“What are you working on now?” Nesta repeated with enthusiasm.
“Taking a break right now.” Kory glanced toward Dafina.
“Well, you certainly deserve it.” Her aunt nodded.
Kory smiled sadly. “Time away from the creative process isn’t always easy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Writing. It’s hard to turn off.”
“I have no idea.” Nesta looked confused. “Dafina, what does he mean?”
“It’s like when you have a project—for me, gardening. Imagine that I have all my flowers ready to be planted. Holes dug in the ground. Then I take a break for a couple of weeks and leave everything sit. See what I mean?”
“Maddening!” Nesta thumped her hand on the arm of the chair.
“Exactly.” Dafina turned to look Kory in the eye. “Poor Kory has a mind fertile with imagination and he can’t get it on paper.”
He smiled and his eyes sparked. Oh yes. Her words had struck a nerve. After all, they had been trying, she thought sarcastically. Indeed.
“Well, darlings, it’s been fun, but I’m heading off to my room.” Nesta stood. “You do have tomorrow off, right?” She focused on Dafina.
“That’s right.”
“I’m looking forward to spending the day with you and Kory.” Nesta smiled and turned bashful. Dafina had never seen her aunt carry on so—like she wasn’t the same woman.
“Good night. We look forward to it, too,” Kory answered.
Nesta went to her room, happiness giving a spring to her step. Dafina put a hand over her face. How she dreaded to hear any form of backlash from Kory. Here he was on a holiday and got bamboozled into helping her.
“That went well, wouldn’t you say?” Kory’s whisper broke into her thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“I make a good husband, right?” He smiled lightheartedly.
“Jolly good. I’ve never seen her…so…nice. She likes you—probably more than anyone on the face of the earth.”
He smiled and followed her down the hall. “I’m glad it went well. I’ll just grab my backpack and slip out to the cottage, so—”
“You can’t.” She took in a breath and her hand clutched her sweater by her neck. “Nesta is sure to find out and suspect that—”
“What do you want me to do?” He yawned.
Dafina was at a loss for words.
“Look, sooner or later, she’s going to find out. Right? Wouldn’t it be better that when she finds out I’m not your husband, she also learns that I stayed in the cottage?”
She wrinkled her forehead and nodded.
“Why is it so important that she thinks you’re married?”
“Come along.” Dafina stepped into her bedroom, and Kory followed.
She turned on a dim light, then leaned into the hall to turn out the other light. She closed the door, fearful that Nesta might hear their conversation, although unlikely, since the guest room was on the opposite end of the house.
“I’m whipped.” Kory sat on the floor.
She tossed him a pillow, and he turned it around and looked at it like he had no idea how to use it. How to explain her problem to him? Ridiculous, it was. “It’s a family curse.”
“You have to be married or—”
“I lose the house and the stone cottage.”
“Huh?” His expression turned incredulous in the faint light.
“I know it might not seem like much to you, but—”
“Your house and cottage are great, it’s not that. I just don’t understand how—your aunt will take it away?”
She nodded.
“And Nesta is such a nice lady. I thought you were protecting her from being hurt over learning your marriage didn’t work out.” He leaned with an elbow on the pillow.
“No, actually she’d be glad for that. Her daughter just became engaged and she could take over the property.”
“To live here…in this place, you have to be married? Who set up such a deal?”
“Bother, it’s probably been the deal since the middle ages. I don’t know. Probably as soon as the stone house was built.”
She tried to read Kory’s expression, but couldn’t discern anything.
“Mum should’ve gotten the house. She and Dad had a wedding planned. When Nesta found out, she got her chum to marry her practically on the spot, so she could beat out her sister. Did it on the sly, she did. Waved the marriage license in front of everyone’s nose. At least that’s what I’ve heard. Of course, I wasn’t born yet.”
“Doesn’t seem fair.”
“No…no it doesn’t. When Nesta finds out that I’m not married, everything can go to her daughter who’s already got the whole world.”
He opened his mouth to speak.
“Ah, you know what I mean.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I can hardly make a living as it is. But living here—I hoped I could have a life. My gardens…and pottery.”
“Your pottery?”
“Yes, did you see it in the shed when you stowed your bike?”
He lifted his eyes off to his right as if thinking intently. “That was your pottery?”
/> She nodded and felt a little lighter inside. His expression turned to awe. He liked it.
“It’s amazing. You’re quite talented.”
“I wanted to see if I could sell them in a shop or two in town. If I have to move into a tiny flat, I’ll not be able to have a kiln or clay. I get the clay from the ground.”
“Wow.” He sighed and reclined further moving his head to the pillow. “I’m sorry, I—”
“That’s okay. If I lose it, I guess that’s the way it has to be. I’d just hoped I could live here happily with my ‘usband. Have a bed and breakfast in the cottage and work on pottery.”
“Sounds like a wonderful plan.” After he said the words, his eyebrows came together like he’d surprised himself that he’d said it out loud.
“Turns out that George only had eyes for the property. Wanted to sell it, he did, and move away. When he learned that I didn’t actually own it, he wasn’t interested in our relationship.”
“That’s awful,” Kory said in a sleepy voice.
“He annulled the marriage and took off after a rich widow he met.”
She noticed his eyes couldn’t stay open. Poor man was exhausted. She draped a cover over him, and he closed his eyes.
Losing her home now would be a hardship for sure. She’d have to get a minute flat in a sketchy part of town or bunk in Gweneth’s apartment over the store. Dafina couldn’t go for that again. Even though she liked her boss, Dafina needed a space of her own.
She’d get to keep the house for a bit longer if Nesta believed she was married. Even if she could keep the property for a year—what a difference it could make. She could get her pottery established in shops and save some money for a new place. But being deceptive—she hated it. Her face turned uncomfortably warm. It was Nesta’s fault for coming and Nesta’s fault for stealing the property away from Mum.
Griff bounded into the room, ready to jump up on the bed as he usually did. But he stopped and sniffed the blanket bunched up on the floor. Once he realized it was Kory, Griff tried to wag the tail he didn’t have, making her giggle. “Silly boy.”
