What in hell had I been thinking?
What if my friends were right and Bunny MacKenzie was wrong and there was no blood link between Chloe and me? What if she’d gotten her facts wrong and Chloe and I were part of totally different Aubry families? As far as I knew, Chloe hadn’t had her DNA tested so there was no scientific basis for claiming a family relationship.
No wonder Claire and Diandra and Kelly had looked at me like I’d suddenly gone crazy. I had no proof at all of actual kinship (however distant) beyond the snooping abilities of a retired nurse from Boston.
Go home.
I stopped in my tracks. We all have that little voice in our heads, the one that pops up when you least expect it, and tells you what to do. Like most people, I usually ignore it but this time was different.
It wasn’t my voice I was hearing. It was a man’s voice.
And yet there was no one there.
Go home.
I spun around again.
Still nothing.
Talk about a welcoming committee.
The jury was no longer out.
I didn’t like Sugar Maple and it was beginning to look like Sugar Maple didn’t like me. Call me crazy, but something weird was going on and I didn’t want to be part of it.
Not even for yarn at a family discount.
If I left now, I could be home before dark. All I had to do was go back to the Inn, grab my bags, and point my car toward Maine.
Which turned out to be easier said than done.
Maybe I would just take a look at the front window of Sticks & Strings before I left. I mean, what knitter worth her stash could get this close to fiber nirvana without at least a peek at paradise.
Besides, nobody knew what I looked like. Even if Bunny MacKenzie was standing there looking back at me, she’d think I was just your average window shopper.
The window display was quirky and compelling. Lots of funky fleeces, baskets of roving, and swoony, summery shawls interspersed with serious hand-painted yarnage with antique spinning wheels suspended from the ceiling. I could feel my hard-earned money trying to escape from my wallet.
I leaned a little closer to see if I could spot any life beyond the window display, but the sun’s reflection off the glass made it hard to see beyond the glare. I felt a rush of air near my left ear and I turned quickly but there was no one there. I chalked it up to the Sugar-Maple-is-weird factor.
Still I had the strongest feeling that I wasn’t alone even though I was the only one on the street. You know how it feels when someone invades your personal space? How even the tiny hairs on your arms register another presence? That was how I felt as I surveyed the display at Sticks & Strings.
And then I saw him.
He was standing just behind my left shoulder. The glare from the sun reflecting off the window made it impossible to see his face in the reflection. He was tall, broad shouldered, clad in (of all things) a dark cape with some kind of red and orange embroidery across the front. He seemed to be shadowing me, blocking my view of – well, of everything but him.
“Hey!” I said. “Give a girl some space.”
I spun around to get a better look at the pushy stranger but there was nothing but empty space where he had been.
I turned back to the window display and there he was again, reflected over my right shoulder this time, his face still in shadow. This time his arms were outstretched, like a giant bird shielding me with the wings of his cloak.
Or maybe trying to kill me.
I had taken a few self-defense courses. I knew what to do. I spun around, ready to deliver a well-placed knee to an unprotected groin and kept right on spinning.
Chapter 11
CHLOE
* * *
Throwing your future mother-in-law out of your yarn shop probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do on the day before your wedding, but Bunny seemed to understand it wasn’t anything personal.
I needed space. I’m not sure Wyoming would have been enough space for me, but I’d take what I could get at this point, but the last twenty minutes of alone time was a start.
I was still reeling from my experience with the Book of Spells at the library. The hideous images I’d seen still lingered, ferocious and terrifying, at the edges of my consciousness, waiting to grab me. How any of that figured in with the glowing ring that seemed permanently attached to my finger was anyone’s guess. And I mean anyone’s, because so far nobody in Sugar Maple had a clue.
Luke was off having lunch with his father, brothers, and brothers-in-law. Some kind of ersatz bachelor party, I assumed. I texted him an update on Bunny’s latest left-field surprise and his response was short and right on the mark.
* * *
WTH?
* * *
As far as I was concerned, that pretty much summed up the last few weeks.
I paced the shop, unable to settle down. I didn’t want to knit or spin or check stock. Social media held little appeal. All I could think about was this mystery cousin Bunny had found on-line. What would she be like? Would she like me? Would I like her? Had she known my father?
Was she at Fully Caffeinated, chowing down on a panini or (I admit I was pulling hard for this one) had she decided to jump back in her car and head for home?
Maybe heading home was what I should do. The experience with the Book of Spells yesterday had exhausted me. I had laid awake most of the night trying to make sense of the horrors I’d seen, to figure out how they tied in with the mini earthquake, the ring, the general sense that something bad was coming. And let’s not even start on the figure in the cape with the gorgeous Welsh embroidery on it and the pull I felt toward him.
I checked on Penny the cat, made sure she had food and water and that the a/c was working the way it should. The stupid ring was suddenly blinking for reasons unknown but I didn’t have the time or inclination to worry about it now. I was about to gather up my things and head out when I heard a loud thump near the front door to the shop. Birds sometimes hit the plate glass window, stunning themselves into immobility, but this sounded more substantial.
Moving swiftly, I crossed the room then flung open the door, yelping in surprise when a woman tumbled into the shop.
“I’ve always had a knack for the grand entrance,” she said, looking up at me with huge brown eyes that seemed vaguely familiar. “Falling over my own feet is my specialty.”
Whoever she was, I liked her immediately. “I thought I had that specialty all wrapped up.” I was known in Sugar Maple as a major klutz.
“You’ve met your match.” She rolled those big brown eyes and made a face. “Good thing I have strong bones.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride,” she said. “I was aiming for a clean getaway.”
Just like that I knew who she was. “You’re Wendy, aren’t you?”
“Guilty.” She flashed a quick smile. “And you’re Chloe.”
I nodded. “So why were you looking to get away?”
“Let’s just say your future mother-in-law is way too persuasive. This was a stupid idea and I should have known better. I figured I’d come back some other time.” Her smile widened. “Like maybe when you’re not getting married.”
I didn’t argue the point. “Let me help you up.”
I held out my hand and she took it. Her fingers were long and bony like mine. I noticed she didn’t wear a wedding ring and I tried to remember what Bunny had said about her marital status.
“Count of three,” I said. “One, two—“
“Ow!” She fell back down on her butt. “I think I might have sprained my ankle.”
“Okay,” I said. “No problem. We’ll get you into the shop so we can have a look.”
She winced as we made another attempt. “Just don’t let me buy anything.”
“No promises,” I said, as she leaned her weight against me and hobbled inside. “I am, after all, a professional fiber enabler.”
She laughed but I could see she was hurting.
Any attempt to put weight on her right foot caused her to emit a small groan.
I helped her to the maple rocking chair near my favorite antique wheel and she sank onto it with a grateful sigh. I knelt in front of her and looked at her right ankle. It was already starting to swell.
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” I asked.
She thought for a second. “Low seven.”
I whistled. “Low sevens for me mean full body anesthesia. I’ll get some ice.”
Penny roused herself from her basket of roving and wandered over to check out the newcomer. By the time I returned with towels and a bucket of ice, Penny was ensconced on Wendy’s lap.
“I hope you’re a cat person,” I said, resuming my position on the floor in front of her. “As you can see, Penny doesn’t wait to be asked.”
“Cats, dogs, birds, ferrets, hamsters, I love them all.”
“Good to know.” I reached for her ankle. “This might hurt. Tell me if you want me to stop.”
She nodded. I saw her lips thin the slightest bit as I rested her right foot on a pillow.
“Sorry,” I said. “I promise the ice will help.” I wrapped the makeshift ice pack around her ankle.
“You’re good at this,” she said. “Do you have nursing training like Bunny?”
“Experience,” I said. “I’m no stranger to tripping over my own feet.”
A funny look passed across her even features. “About that fall,” she began. “There was this guy—“
I rocked back on my heels and looked up at her. “I didn’t see anybody.”
“It was weird,” she said, stretching out her leg and looking down at her swollen ankle. “I was on my way here when I suddenly decided that maybe this wasn’t the greatest time to pop up for a visit. But I couldn’t be this close to Sticks & Strings and not at least peek in the window.” She stopped. “It sounds ridiculous, I know it does, but there was a . . . figure lurking behind me.”
“Lurking?”
“Okay, here is where it gets weird,” she said. “I saw his reflection in the store window but when I turned around, there was nobody there.”
I didn’t like this at all. Either she was certifiable or the charm I’d settled on Sugar Maple for the wedding was fading fast. Frankly, I was hoping for crazy. “Then what happened?”
“I turned back to the window and there he was again, but on my other side. I still couldn’t see his face, but this time his arms were raised and with that crazy embroidered cloak and everything—“
“A cloak?” I couldn’t keep the shock from my voice. “A cloak in August?” The significance was just out of reach.
“I know, right? I guess I freaked out and spun around to knee him in the groin and—“ She made a helpless gesture with her hands. “I kept right on spinning.”
This was getting worse by the second. “And what did this mystery man do while you were spinning like a top?”
“Nothing. Like I said, I never really saw him, except for the reflection in the window.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
She hesitated. “No, but when I first rounded the corner on my way here, I thought I heard a voice tell me to go home.”
“Male or female?”
She looked so embarrassed that I hated myself for asking.
“It was just one of those little voices in your head,” she said. “I know I must sound crazy.”
“Male or female?” I asked again.
“Male,” she said. “Definitely male.”
“Tell me more about the mystery man,” I said. “Are you sure you didn’t see his face?”
“Positive.”
“What was so compelling about him? Describe what happened the best you can.”
Wendy’s expression grew wary. “I thought your future husband was the detective. I’m starting to feel like I need a lawyer.”
“Sorry,” I said with an embarrassed laugh. “I’m not a detective, but I am the mayor of Sugar Maple and you were hurt within our town limits. I want to make sure we don’t have a problem.” The poor woman looked like I was about to Mirandize her.
Her expression softened but I sensed she was more on guard than she had been earlier which made me feel terrible. “There’s not much to describe. I probably took too many self-defense courses. Like I said before, I spun around and I must have hit something, because I lost my balance and spun myself right onto my butt.”
“And he didn’t try to help you?”
“He was gone.” She hesitated for a moment. “At least his reflection was gone. I’m starting to think I imagined the whole thing.”
We agreed that bright sunlight and reflective glass were an interesting combination. I’m not sure either one of us believed a word we were saying but at least we were trying.
A rush of memory knocked the breath out of me. “Tell me more about that cloak. I’m a needlework junkie. I need to know these things.”
“A dragon,” she said. “Very upscale Comic Con with lots of fiery reds and oranges. I wish I could’ve gotten a better look at it. Actually the whole image was pretty compelling even without seeing his face. We don’t have anyone like that in Bailey’s Harbor.”
I had felt the same pull when the man from the Book of Spells walked through the fire.
“I sound like a real loony, don’t I?” she asked.
“I once sold angora to a woman who claimed she liked to eat it on toast with marmalade. We set a pretty high bar for loony around here.”
She nodded. “I noticed. The women at the café weren’t exactly the friendliest group. I half expected a drone to do some fly-by surveillance.”
I readjusted the ice wrap around her ankle. “Was a short, round little woman named Midge at Fully Caffeinated?”
“Yes!” Wendy’s face lit up. “And a stern, schoolmarm type—darn! I can’t remember her name.”
“Verna Griggs,” I said. “I’d bet the yarn shop on that.”
“That’s the one.”
“It’s not you,” I said, pausing for effect. “It’s me they don’t like.”
Wendy burst out laughing. “Good,” she said. “I was starting to worry. It usually takes at least an hour or two to dislike me that much.”
“Do you think one of them followed you?”
“No, but I’ll bet there was a lot of texting going on after I left.”
“You’re sure you didn’t see anyone else?”
“See? Now you do think I’m some kind of nut.”
I wished I could tell her what I actually was thinking: that one of those two bitchy old bats had decided to exert a little Sugar Maple brand of pressure on a non-magick visitor. I refused to even consider the appearance of the figure in the embroidered cloak. He was most likely one of our time-traveling stopover guests checking out the town despite the global request to steer clear of Sugar Maple until after the wedding.
Maybe I’d been too quick to blame the Souderbush boys for peeping through windows. The cloaked wonder was beginning to sound like a likely suspect.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll get it all sorted out.” I switched topics as gracefully as I could. “Can your stomach handle ibuprofen?”
“Like a champ.”
I ducked into the store bathroom and shook two pills from the bottle then grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge near the back door.
“Take these,” I said, handing Wendy one of the bottles. “They’ll help.”
* * *
She reached for the pills and her gaze landed on the stupid ring which, strangely enough, was no longer blinking. “That’s an unusual engagement ring.”
“You don’t have to be polite,” I said with a short laugh. “It’s not my engagement ring.” I gave her a brief history of how it came to be welded to my finger.
She popped the pills in her mouth then took a big gulp of water.
“So do you think we’re really related?” I asked. No point beating around the bush.
“According
to Bunny, we are. Apparently my father and your father were second cousins.”
“And that makes us--?”
“Beats me,” Wendy said, shaking her head. “I’ve never been good at the begats.”
“Me neither.” Then again, I never had to be. I studied her for a moment. “I don’t really see a resemblance.” She was younger, darker, and prettier without any help from magick.
She studied me back. “A little around the nose, maybe. I have my father’s nose.”
Maybe I did too but I’d never know for sure. There were no pictures of either of my parents. “Did your father ever talk about my father?”
“Not that I know of. He died when I was a baby.”
“My dad died when I was six,” I said. “I never got to hear his stories.”
“That’s the worst, isn’t it?” Wendy’s expressive face grew sad. “All of that personal history lost forever.”
“I know everything about my mother.” I was skating out onto thin ice but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “What I know about my father you could write on a matchbook cover and have room to spare.”
“Same here. My mother never talked about him. She remarried when I was a toddler and it was like he’d never existed.”
“What about the rest of the Aubrys?”
“There’s a great uncle in Halifax, but he’s very old. The last I heard, he was hanging on by a thread. That’s about it. Family always meant my mother’s blood relatives and my stepfather’s clan.”
“So it’s just us,” I said, kind of liking the word “us.”
“Looks like it,” Wendy said. “Unless there are some more out there waiting to get their DNA tested.”
I wasn’t sure if the idea filled me with joy or terror. All I knew was that I felt more comfortable, more quickly, with Wendy Aubry Lattimer than I had with any other human in my life. The connection had been immediate. The bond between us was powerful. Despite our obvious chemistry, it had taken a while for me to drop my guard around Luke. With Wendy, I felt like what remained of my guard was crumbling around my feet.
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