by Sydney Logan
Angelina could feel Dylan’s eyes on her as she stepped off the ladder. Out of all the stories Maddie could’ve shared, did she really have to start with that one?
“And there wasn’t an herb in sight,” she finished softly.
Customers began to shuffle inside, and Maddie welcomed them to the store while Angelina continued dusting and rearranging in preparation for the busy weekend. The Maple Ridge Music Festival always brought potential shoppers to the music store. The weekend-long event featured local music and crafts and was the town’s only tourist attraction, bringing in visitors from miles around.
Throughout the rest of the busy day, Angelina had the feeling that someone was staring at her.
And to her great disappointment, it wasn’t always Dylan.
The first time, it was Corey Ellis—a tall blonde who had just opened the new hardware store in town. A little later, it was Brad Tompkins, who pretended to be interested in one of her mandolins but really just wanted to ask her out to dinner. Angelina made up some excuse as to why that wasn’t possible, and when he left, Brad was without a date and the mandolin still hung on her wall.
Angelina wasn’t used to all this attention.
Maddie, however, was thrilled.
“That spell is really kicking in,” she whispered in her friend’s ear.
“Stop it.”
“I’m serious. There isn’t a man in this room who can keep his eyes off you, and that includes my favorite reporter from Nashville.”
Angelina grinned. “Do you know many reporters from Nashville?”
“No, but even if I did, Dylan would still be my favorite.”
Angelina glanced toward the window to find Dylan standing there, gazing at her. Her body still tingled from his massage, and his intense look was making her a little dizzy. Luckily the shop was crawling with people, so she didn’t have time to stand around and stare at the handsome reporter with the gentle hands.
Later that afternoon, Angelina was busy showing an antique banjo to a customer from Virginia when she heard a familiar laugh that made her skin crawl. She looked up to find Adam McDonald standing next to the register, shaking hands with one of the local musicians.
Adam walked casually over to the instruments, stopping to admire one of the more expensive Gibson guitars they’d just put on display. A nervous Angelina offered the banjo to the man and walked slowly over to the counter. She took comfort in the fact that the shop was full of people, and Adam had never been one to make a scene.
Dylan noticed her agitation and was immediately by her side.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Determined to keep her cool, Angelina began to rearrange the counter display of guitar picks. Dylan watched her every move, but it didn’t make her edgy. She found it comforting, which was a little ironic considering Adam’s possessive tendencies and Angelina’s absolute rebellion against them.
Adam McDonald had been her first serious boyfriend. She’d rarely dated in high school, but he’d worn her down with his charming smile and all-American good looks. As captain of the basketball team, Adam had been the most popular guy in school, with girls worshiping at his feet.
For some reason, he’d picked Angelina.
At first, his controlling nature had been flattering. Friends told her it must be wonderful to have a boyfriend who truly loved her, so she’d ignored her gut instinct—and the warnings of her parents—and allowed him to dictate every second of her life. When she finally realized their relationship was far from healthy, Angelina had half-heartedly conjured a spell to banish him from her life. Naturally, it hadn’t worked, and when she had tried the more traditional route of simply breaking up with him, Angelina had witnessed a side of Adam McDonald she’d never dreamed existed.
“Who is he, Angelina?” Dylan asked.
“He’s an asshole who shouldn’t be allowed to step one miserable foot inside this shop,” Maddie muttered angrily.
“He’s nobody.”
“Then why are you trembling?” Dylan took her hand and squeezed it softly.
Maddie slammed the register shut just as Adam appeared.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, his voice laced with that same Southern drawl the girls had loved back in school. He placed the Gibson guitar on the counter and grinned, but his phony smile turned into a frown when he saw Angelina and Dylan’s joined hands.
Very calmly, Angelina pulled her hand away and reached for the guitar to check the value. Normally she wouldn’t make her loyal customers pay full retail price for an instrument, but Adam McDonald deserved no favors.
Maddie was livid. “Don’t you dare sell him that guitar, Angelina.”
Angelina breathed deeply. The last thing she wanted was for Adam to think he intimidated her in any way.
“Dylan, would you please take Maddie to lunch?” Angelina asked, proud of her steady voice. “She gets a little grouchy when she hasn’t eaten.”
“I’m not leaving you.” Dylan’s tone was firm and resolute.
“Neither am I,” Maddie said.
Adam smirked and handed Angelina his credit card.
“You’re as beautiful as ever, Angelina. How are you?”
Without saying a word, she swiped his card. Maddie huffed loudly and stormed off. Dylan, however, remained rooted to his spot at Angelina’s side.
“Are you looking forward to the festival?” Adam asked.
Angelina ignored his question and handed him the credit card receipt to sign. She’d never been so rude to a customer, but this wasn’t just some random shopper. He didn’t seem offended in the least. He simply signed his name to the slip and handed it back.
“Have a good day, Angelina.”
The bastard’s smirk remained on his face, even as he walked out the door with her guitar in his hand.
The cancer treatment center in Knoxville was brightly lit and decorated in soft blues and creams. It was meant to set a peaceful tone, and to the patients, it probably offered some sort of calm. For Angelina, it had the opposite effect. It did, however, make her forget all about her encounter with Adam McDonald.
Sometimes, a little perspective was all one needed.
With her banana Popsicle in hand, Celia chatted with a fellow patient while the IV pumped their bodies full of poison. The doctor had suggested something to help with the nausea, and Popsicles seemed to do the trick. They’d been lucky so far, and the treatments hadn’t been too brutal on Celia’s body.
“My daughter will be graduating from college in May,” the woman said proudly. Her name was Teresa, and she lived with her husband just outside of Knoxville. “I can’t wait to see her walk across the stage.”
“That will be wonderful,” Celia agreed.
Angelina heard the wistful tone of her mom’s voice. While Celia had been thankful when her daughter had taken over the shop, a small part of her wished that Angelina had gone to school. She hadn’t mentioned it in a while, but during the drive home, she broached the subject.
“You could still go to college, you know.”
“Mom, you know how busy the shop keeps me. Besides, I’ve lost any desire I ever had to practice medicine.”
Celia sighed. “I know your beliefs have been shaken since the death of your father, but the power to heal is such an amazing gift.”
“It’s only an amazing gift when it works.”
Celia leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. The treatments drained her, leaving her physically weak and emotionally exhausted. The hour drive back to Maple Ridge was normally a quiet one, so Angelina was a little surprised when her mom started talking again.
“I’ve invited Dylan to dinner tonight.”
This wasn’t exactly breaking news. Dylan had been a guest at their table almost every night since he’d arrived in Maple Ridge. Never had she seen her mother so willing to talk to a stranger.
“He’ll have some questions for me. Maddie told him about Billy Ross’s wrist.”
Celia
grinned. “I bet that particular story has made Dylan even more curious about you.”
“I’m sure. He also met Adam McDonald yesterday.”
Celia tilted her head toward her daughter. “I thought he was living in Asheville now.”
“I think he’s back for the festival. Tourists have started to trickle into town. It should be a good weekend for the shop.”
Angelina could feel her mother’s eyes on her as she continued to drive.
“Did he upset you, Angelina?”
She shook her head, and the remaining drive home was a quiet one. They never talked about Adam, but Angelina wasn’t one to keep secrets from her mother. Besides, Dylan was sure to mention him tonight, and she didn’t want her mom blindsided by the news that her ex-boyfriend had made an appearance.
It was nearly dark by the time they made it back to Maple Ridge. As they pulled into the driveway, Angelina wasn’t at all surprised to find Dylan’s vehicle parked in her spot.
“You gave him a key?”
“Yes.”
Angelina shook her head, and her mom laughed.
“What’s so funny?
“You’ll see,” Celia said, smiling happily.
Angelina groaned and stepped out of the car. While she was thankful the cancer and chemo hadn’t affected her mother’s visions, it wasn’t much fun being kept in the dark.
As soon as they stepped inside the house, the undeniable aroma of garlic filled the air. A grinning Celia took her daughter by the arm and pulled her toward the kitchen, and that was where they found Dylan. He was standing next to the table, whistling and buttering garlic bread.
Angelina gasped, and his head shot up in surprise. He smiled sheepishly at the two of them before turning toward the stove. As he placed the bread inside the oven, Angelina spotted her mom’s pink apron tied around his waist.
It was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.
And quite possibly the sweetest.
“Celia didn’t eat much tonight.”
It was almost midnight, and Dylan and Angelina were sitting on the front porch. He was in one of the rocking chairs while she sat on the step with her back pressed uncomfortably against a beam. Cash’s head rested in her lap, and Angelina trailed her fingers through his fur while he snored.
“The treatments really wipe her out. I was surprised she ate anything at all.”
“What kind of cancer?”
“Breast.”
He nodded. “Did she have surgery?”
“Yeah, a single mastectomy. The oncologist ordered the chemo just as a precaution. We go back in a few weeks for more blood work.”
“What happens then?”
Bitterness stuck in her throat, making it impossible to answer him. Cash sensed her sadness and snuggled closer, and she rapidly slid her fingers through his coat.
“Angelina, I’m sorry.”
She blinked back her tears as Dylan rose from the rocker and joined her on the step. Very gently, he took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
“Aren’t treatments expensive?”
Angelina nodded. “Dad’s life insurance policy helps pay most of her medical expenses. We’re very lucky.”
For a few minutes, the only sounds they could hear were an owl in the distance and Cash’s soft snores. When Dylan finally spoke, his voice was just a whisper.
“I read about your ancestors and their gifts. Did you really heal that boy’s wrist? Just by touching him?”
Angelina nodded.
Dylan gazed at her hand as if it were some kind of science experiment. His face flickered with so many conflicting emotions.
Indecision. Disbelief. Wonder.
Understanding.
“Your touch heals, but it doesn’t cure,” he said softly.
Angelina nodded and closed her eyes, surrendering to the tears that were so desperate to fall.
Chapter 6
The Maple Ridge Music Festival was in full swing. Brightly decorated booths lined each side of the street as music streamed from the stage at the far end of the road. Despite its name, the festival wasn’t just about music. It was an amazing display of local talent, offering everything from homemade crafts to beaded jewelry. The Morton sisters were selling their quilts and canned goods, while their husbands sold their leather wallets and belts in the neighboring booth. A customer could buy cotton candy at the Baptist church tent or burgers and fries from the high school band.
Because Celia’s Strings was right in the middle of town, they never bothered to set up a booth. They simply opened the doors, and tourists could come and go as they pleased. In the one hundred years since the festival’s inception, it had only been canceled once because of rain.
Dylan pointed his camera toward the street and snapped a few pictures. “This is amazing. The crowd is a little thin, though. Is that normal?”
“It’s still early,” Maddie said. The three of them were sitting on a wooden bench just outside the door. “Just wait. This place will be crawling with people this afternoon.”
“And tonight,” Angelina said with a grin.
“What’s tonight?”
Maddie bounced in her seat. “The concert! At sundown, some of our local bands take the stage. The booths close and the street becomes a giant dance floor!”
“Maddie really loves to dance.”
Dylan grinned. “What about you, Angelina? Do you love to dance?”
“It’s okay.”
Her best friend snorted. “She loves to dance. Especially slow dances.”
Subtle, Maddie.
“Is Nick coming in this weekend?” Angelina asked. Maddie and Nick Phelps had been high school sweethearts. He’d been working for his dad’s trucking company since graduation, and weeks would pass before he had the chance to come home.
“He’ll be here this afternoon, which means I am taking the early shift at the shop while you and Dylan enjoy the festival.” Maddie leapt off the bench and followed a couple of customers inside. “Make sure he tries Ms. Imogene’s blueberry dumplings!”
Angelina sighed loudly, causing Dylan to chuckle. He grinned and jumped to his feet.
“Come on, Angelina. Take me to the dumpling booth.”
“Then there was Camilla Jones—one of my distant cousins who lived in Maple Ridge way back in 1840. She was born at midnight, which according to mountain tradition means she had the ability to talk to spirits. Camilla loved talking to the ghosts of Civil War soldiers.”
Dylan polished off his third bowl while Imogene Williams shared her family’s stories. Angelina had rolled her eyes throughout most of the conversation, but at least the dumplings were good.
Imogene wiped her hands on her apron and smiled at the two of them. “More? We’ve got plenty.”
Dylan and Angelina exchanged a look before shaking their heads. They thanked her and were just getting ready to leave when Imogene let out a squeal.
“Wait! I want to introduce you to my daughter!”
Angelina stifled a groan when she saw Christine Williams waving wildly in the distance. She was tall, blonde, beautiful, and the biggest flirt in Maple Ridge. As she strutted down the street, everyone noticed that her denim shorts just barely covered her bottom and her tank top left very little to the imagination. Neither wardrobe choice was unusual for Christy.
“Who’s this?” Christy smiled up at Dylan and pointedly ignored his companion. Again, that was nothing new. Christy and Angelina had spent most of their lives trying to forget the other existed, especially after Christy’s unfortunate case of pimples.
The memory never failed to make Angelina laugh.
Imogene made the introductions. “Christy is a photographer with the Maple Ridge Gazette. I bet the two of you have a lot in common since you’re both in the news business.”
Christy was her usual giggly self as she asked Dylan a hundred questions about his job in Nashville. He was polite and answered them all while Angelina took a deep breath, counted to twenty, and scanned the crowd for her
mom. She wasn’t hard to find, sitting under a tent and wearing her red, wide-brimmed hat. By her side was David Murray, plucking his banjo.
After five minutes of Christine’s nonstop chatter, Angelina politely excused herself and walked over to the next booth. She said hello to Mrs. Evans and reached for one of her homemade candles, lifting the top and inhaling the fruity scent. Suddenly, she felt someone’s hand brush the small of her back, and she smiled.
“That was quick. Christine boring you already?”
“Christine who?”
Her body went rigid.
Adam laughed. “Christine Williams? Hell, she bored me back in high school.”
That wasn’t how Angelina remembered it at all. Adam had always appreciated Christy’s short skirts and complete lack of morals.
“Looks like your new boyfriend is enjoying her company, though.”
Angelina tightly gripped the candle and turned toward her ex.
“What do you want, Adam?”
His grin was just as breathtaking as ever. Too bad she knew the evil man behind the pearly smile.
“She speaks. I was beginning to wonder.”
Nervously, she glanced toward Imogene’s booth to find Dylan’s eyes fixated on the two of them. Christine was still chattering, but he wasn’t paying her a bit of attention.
This made Angelina far happier than it should.
“By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice that I paid full price for that guitar. Is that any way to treat your first great love?”
“You are not my first great love. You were my greatest mistake.”
Adam’s eyes flashed with anger before he chuckled darkly.
“You look gorgeous. I’m surprised the boyfriend lets you out of his sight.”
She didn’t bother correcting him. Instead, Angelina paid Mrs. Evans for the candle before heading toward the next booth.
“Don’t ignore me, Angelina,” he said menacingly, grabbing her arm. “You know how much I hate that.”
