by Lexi George
Sassy smiled to herself. She was starting to like the surly manager.
One of the Caterpillar operators snagged a load of logs in the massive metal hook. The machine swung about and rumbled toward a large conveyer belt with rotating metal teeth.
“That is an impressive machine,” Taryn said. “I would know more about it.”
The huntress had that look again, the one she’d gotten when the log truck had boomed past them.
“That’s a log loader,” Houston said. “He’s moving logs onto the live deck. See?”
“Fascinating.” Taryn gave him a cool smile. “Pray continue.”
“Um . . . well . . .” Houston cleared his throat. “The logs go into the debarker and then into the saw shed.” He raised his voice over the noise of the loader and the rumbling conveyer belt. “Every man here is like a cog in a big machine. It’s the loader’s job to keep the sawyers supplied with the right mix of logs to keep the line running smoothly.”
Taryn watched the operator chug into position with the heavy load. “A thing of power, but slow.”
“Don’t need it to be fast,” Houston said. “Need it to be able to handle the load.”
A small, wiry man in work pants and boots exited a shed whistling a nameless tune. The Dalmatian trotted into view wearing a doggy grin, and the man’s whistle dried up. Trey wagged his tail at the man and disappeared.
“He’s back.” The startled employee dropped the shovel in his hand and backed away. “The ghost hound is back.”
The man turned and ran like the devil was on his tail. He grabbed another worker and waved, saying something they could not hear.
Houston slapped his hard hat against his thigh. “Tour’s over, ladies.” He yelled across the yard at the worker. “Don’t start that ghost foolishness, Furr. I mean it. I won’t have you riling the men.” Houston spat. “Ghosts and curses. No such thing.”
He’d hardly finished this pronouncement when a log loader swung away from the live deck with a screech of gears. Inside the cab, the driver wrestled with the out-of-control machine, his eyes bulging with fright. The long arm whipped around. The logs in the hook swayed, and the grapple opened and spilled its load.
“Watch out,” Houston shouted as tons of raw wood barreled down on them.
A log separated from the bundle and crashed, end over end, straight at Houston. Taryn threw her arms around the big man, and they disappeared.
Sassy turned to run. Her feet got tangled in the oversize coverall and she face-planted. She rolled over and screamed as the logs thundered toward her. No time to move. She would be crushed.
Something big and heavy landed on top of her. A log? No, something well-muscled with a subtle green musky scent. Looking up through the cradle of Grim’s powerful arms, she saw the logs bounce and roll harmlessly away.
Grim’s golden eyes blazed through the russet curtain of his hair. “Sassy, are you hurt?”
Sassy wanted to burst into tears and throw her arms around him. She wanted to bury her face against his broad chest and soak up his heat and strength. She wanted to kiss his firm, sensuous mouth and keep on kissing him.
Tasting Grim would be sweeter than all the desserts in Miss Vi’s bakery case; all the sweets in the world.
Instead, she allowed him to help her to her feet.
“I’m fine, thank you.” She gave him a trembling smile. “A little shook up, maybe.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “You are certain?”
A tremor ran through Grim’s big body, and he was pale beneath his tan.
“Nothing bruised but my dignity.” Sassy searched his face for answers. Was he hurt? Had he exhausted his reserves of energy when he’d shielded her from harm? She knew so little about him and less about magic. “What about you? Are you all right?”
“No, by the sword. I am not. You were nearly killed. If I had not looked back—” Grim shook his head. “I was almost too late.”
“But you weren’t too late. You saved me.”
He brushed his thumb across her nose. His hand was shaking.
“You have dirt on your face,” he murmured.
“Do I?”
Sassy was covered in dirt and sawdust from head to toe. She was dressed in a shapeless bag and Trey’s grungy boots. For a gal whose custom was to be perfectly groomed and dressed to the nines, this was not her finest hour.
It didn’t matter. Grim looked at her as if she was beautiful and precious. She felt breathless, on the verge of something too wonderful to describe.
No designer dress or expensive pair of shoes could ever make her feel so desirable.
Grim reached for her. “Sassy—”
Men ran out of the buildings. Grim dropped his hands and stepped back. Fifty yards away, out of the path of the wooden avalanche, Houston was yelling at Taryn.
“Big as a minute and I weigh two hundred and thirty pounds. There is no way you pulled me clear, much less way over here.”
Taryn’s lips moved. Sassy couldn’t hear what she was saying. Houston went stock still and stared at the huntress.
The log load operator jumped out of the cab of the Cat.
“Is everybody all right?” The man stumbled around a fallen log, eyes wide in his stark face. “Jesus, that’s the most amazing thing I ever seen. Thought the lady was dead for sure. This big guy comes outta nowhere and the logs bounce right off ’em. Like they was surrounded by a force field or something.”
Mr. Houston shook himself as though waking from a trance.
He scowled. “What the hell, Burke? Are you on drugs? You almost killed me, you idiot. This woman, too, if I hadn’t yanked her out of the way.”
Sassy did a double take. Houston thought he’d saved Taryn? It had been the other way around.
Burke sputtered. “Drugs? You know me better’n that. It wasn’t my fault, I swear.”
“Shut up, Burke. You got any idea what you’ve done?” Houston spun the man around to face Sassy. “This here’s Sarah Peterson, Trey’s sister. The new owner. If those logs had rolled her way, you would have killed her.”
“Rolled her way? But, boss, the Cat—” Burke sputtered. “The logs—”
Burke was confused and he wasn’t alone. The logs had rolled her way. If Grim hadn’t shielded her, she’d have been squashed like a pancake. First the witch and now this; two near misses in one day.
Uncle Gaudy said things happened in threes. What would happen next?
The thought made Sassy quake.
“Get your gear and get out, Burke,” Houston said. “You’re fired.”
He turned his back on the stunned driver and stalked over to Sassy and Grim.
Burke dogged his heels. “I’m telling you, this weren’t my fault. One second everything’s fine. The next thing I know, the damn Cat’s out of control.” He turned his pleading gaze on Sassy. “You gotta believe me, miss. There was nothing I could do. It’s like that loader was possessed.”
Oh, Sassy believed him. She believed him all right. A whiff of evil still lingered in the air.
Eddie Furr slunk out of the crowd. “The loader was possessed. The mill is cursed.”
Houston threw his hard hat on the ground. “That’s it. I’ve had enough of this mumbo jumbo. Get your things, Furr. You’re fired, too.”
Furr’s eyes widened. “What? But that ain’t fair. I ain’t done nothing.”
“You’re a troublemaker. Spreading stories about ghosts and curses and keeping the men on edge. I’ve had a belly full of it.”
Sassy understood Houston’s frustration, but jobs were hard to come by in Hannah. And although Mr. Houston didn’t believe in ghosts or curses, Sassy knew that both were real. She was also certain the log spill had been no accident.
“Mr. Houston,” she said. “Perhaps you should—”
Her words were swallowed by Furr’s protests and the uneasy grumblings of the men.
“Patience,” Grim said in a low voice. “Think you it wise to do this now?”
&nb
sp; Sassy hesitated. Grim had a point. Undermining Houston in front of his men would be a mistake. Better to talk to him tomorrow, after he cooled off.
Cussing and complaining, Burke and Furr pushed through the group of men and left.
Houston rolled his shoulders and glared at the rest of the workers. “Anybody else got something smart to say? No? Then quit standing around with your thumbs up your asses and get to work. We got a yard to clear.”
Houston gave Sassy the once-over. “You all right, Miss Peterson? Must’ve scared you half to death to see your friend Taryn in danger like that. Good thing I pulled her out of the way.”
“Yes, indeed.” Taryn strolled up to them. “I am greatly in your debt, Mr. Houston.”
“Nah. Always happy to help a lady in distress.” Houston paused to bellow at a heavyset man in a baseball cap. “Get away from that Cat, Percy. Nobody touches it until a mechanic goes over it with a fine tooth comb.”
“Thank you for showing us the mill, Mr. Houston.” Grim shook the manager’s hand. “It has been most enlightening, but it is time Sassy and I were going.”
“I’ll be back in the morning,” Sassy said. Houston’s face clouded up and she added, “I plan to stay in the office. I want to take a look at the books and the computer. Get my bearings.”
Away from the noise of the saws and the smell of sliced wood and sawdust; out of Houston’s way.
Houston grunted. “That ’ud be all right, I guess. I got no patience for paperwork or computers. Rather be working the plant. We need someone to take care of orders. It’s more than Lucy can handle.”
“Creamy,” Sassy said.
Tomorrow she would use her charm to convince Houston to rehire those men. Furr couldn’t help it if he saw ghosts. And that log loader hadn’t malfunctioned because of anything Burke did or didn’t do.
No, dear old Aunt Susan was behind the accident and the other troubles at the mill, too. She was trying to run Sassy off. Sassy felt it in her bones. They’d see about that. Susan Harwood wasn’t the only demonoid in town. She’d met her match in Sassy.
Houston strode away, barking orders this way and that.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Sassy rounded on Grim.
“What’s going on here? Why does Houston think Taryn saved him? And what do you mean I enjoyed the tour? You weren’t here.”
“Taryn adjusted his memory,” Grim said. “Houston thinks you were not in danger. He also thinks he rescued Taryn and that I arrived with you.”
Sassy stared at him. “She what?”
“She adjusted his memory,” Grim said. “Mortals sometimes see things they should not, so we adjust their memories. Else we would be in violation of the Directive against Conspicuousness.”
“That’s horrible.”
Taryn arched a brow at Sassy. “Before you judge, think but a moment. Memories had to be altered after your fairy fit.”
Sassy’s cheeks grew hot. “I didn’t realize—I guess I didn’t think—” She lifted her chin. “I don’t care. It’s wrong.”
“We will discuss the philosophical and moral implications of our ability to your heart’s content, if you so desire,” Grim said. “Later. After we depart this place.”
“The car—” Sassy said.
“Leave it. Taryn will see to it.”
Grim took her by the hand. The busy yard swirled and melted in a smear of yellow, red, brown, and green, and Sassy fell into the void. She closed her eyes against the streams of starlight and the gaping blackness. When she opened her eyes, she and Grim were standing in the living room of the river house.
Grim had done it again. Yanked her around in highhanded fashion without consulting her. She was starting to get the itsiest bit annoyed.
She pulled free of his grasp and marched over to the fireplace.
She braced her hands on her hips. “Grim, I love you, but you have got to stop bullying me.”
Grim stilled. Then he stepped closer, his expression intent. “What did you say?”
His amber eyes blazed so bright that it hurt to look at them. He was angry. Too bad. She was a person, not a piece of luggage.
She thumped her fist on the front of her coveralls, raising a small cloud of dust. “I said stop bullying me. Ask me if I want to go someplace. Don’t yank me around without a by-your-leave.”
Grim’s big body practically shimmered with tension.
“Before that,” he said. “What did you say before that? Think on it, Sassy. It is most important.”
Sassy frowned. If he’d been listening he’d know what she said. She’d said—
Her fingers flew to her mouth.
“Mother-of-pearl,” she whispered.
Grim crossed the space between them in a blur of motion and pulled her into his arms. His woodsy, spicy scent enveloped her, and the combination of his nearness and the realization of what she’d confessed made Sassy light-headed.
Grim tilted her chin. “Say it again, my heart.” Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth against hers. “I would hear it again.”
His heart. He’d called her his heart. Joy bloomed inside Sassy and threatened to overflow.
“I can’t,” she said. “I’m still engaged.”
Grim stiffened. Then a smile warmed his ochre gaze. “Still?”
Sassy nodded.
Grim rested his forehead against hers, his muscled chest rising and falling as though he’d run a marathon.
“Thank the gods,” he said. “But for that one word I would despair.”
Meredith materialized on a blast of citrus fragrance. “W-e-l-l, aren’t we cozy?”
Grim and Sassy broke apart and turned to meet the ghost. Meredith was wearing a sleek black pencil dress with a round neck and cap sleeves. A white dragon pattern was mirrored, front and back, on the jacquard knit. She balanced, one hip out, on a towering pair of black python and leather heels.
“Does Wesley know you’re boning Butt Boy?” Meredith oozed venom.
“I am not—” Sassy shook her head. She refused to dignify such crudity with an answer. “What do you want?”
“I finally got in to see that numb nuts shrink of mine.” Meredith tapped one elegantly shod foot. “He had an interesting theory regarding my recent lapse into congeniality. Leonard Swink, licensed professional counselor to the dead but not quite departed, seems to think somebody put the whammy on me.”
She glared at Sassy. “Somebody sweet. Somebody bursting at the seams with sugary goodness. Any idea which treacly twat might have—to paraphrase a hero of mine—dicked with my beautiful wickedness?”
“That would be me,” Sassy said. “You wouldn’t stop calling me names.”
“We are so done. You’ll pay for this. Nobody messes with me.”
“Piffle,” Sassy said. “This is my house. Give me trouble and I’ll boot you to the curb.”
Meredith’s blue eyes narrowed. “I’d like to see you try, fairy fart. I eat gumdrops like you for breakfast.”
“Is that so? Mess with me, Meredith, and I’ll dress you in spandex and pleather.”
Meredith gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“Push me, my peep, and see. You’ll have beavage, panty lines visible from the moon, and terminal toe hang in your cheap plastic shoes.”
“Bullshit,” Meredith said. “I’m dead. You can’t do a damn thing to me.”
“I sweetened your sour, didn’t I? Granted, it lasted a hot second, but I did it.”
“It was a fluke. You’re bluffing.”
“Really? Okay, you asked for it.”
Raising her hand, Sassy flung a fistful of dusky purple sparkles at the ghost, and Meredith’s sexy black pumps were transformed into a pair of black orthopedic old lady lace-ups with thick bottoms.
“My shoes,” Meredith shrieked. “What the hell have you done to my shoes?”
“I’m just getting started,” Sassy said. “By the time I’m through with you, you’ll have belly cleavage and enough muffin top to make a baker’s dozen. For
eternity. Still want to chance it?”
“I hate you.” Meredith’s face scrunched in a death mask of fury. “I hate your sugar coated guts, you stupid little Pop-Tart.”
“Then haunt someplace else, because I don’t like you, either.” Sassy swelled. “I abjure you, Meredith Starr Peterson. You are not welcome here. Leave this place and never return.”
Meredith evaporated with a howl of rage.
Chapter Thirty
Wednesday afternoon
Sassy clapped her hand over her mouth in shock. Marshmallows. She’d used her fairy cobbler powers to make ugly shoes. That was fifty shades of wrong.
Junior appeared. He looked country club casual in a pair of light gray seersucker pants in a Prince of Wales pattern and a white cotton dress shirt. A black belt and matching loafers completed his outfit.
“Nice work.” He adjusted his buttoned barrel cuffs. “She won’t be back.”
“There was nothing nice about it,” Sassy said. “I was mean.”
“Forsooth,” Grim said. “I, for one, am glad she is gone. ’Twas a malignant spirit with an unnatural obsession with my posterior.”
Not unnatural. The man was all kinds of fine. His tush was the first thing Sassy had noticed about him. Hanging upside down over his shoulder at that.
So much had happened. It seemed a lifetime ago.
“She’s a raving bitch,” Junior said, nodding in agreement. “She’s the reason Trey stays in dog form.” He looked Sassy up and down. “What on earth are you wearing?”
“A coverall. I’ve been touring the mill.”
“Did they pull you around by a rope? You’re covered in dirt and you have wood chips in your hair.”
Blushing, Sassy plucked a shred of wood from her curls.
“There was a mishap at the mill.” Grim’s expression was forbidding.
“What?” Junior looked startled. “What happened?”
“A log loader went crazy,” Sassy said. “I think Aunt Susan is responsible. She’s in town. She was the buyer for the mill.”
“Why on earth would she want that grimy old mill?” Junior shook his head in wonder. “Aunt Susan’s lived all over the world. She’ll be bored to tears in Hannah.”
