A Harvest of Bones

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A Harvest of Bones Page 20

by Galenorn, Yasmine


  “C’mon!” I grabbed his hand and dragged him upstairs. Quickies had their time and place, and right now twenty minutes in bed with Joe was one luxury I wasn’t about to take a pass on.

  We tumbled out of our clothes, laughing. I reveled in the feel of his hands on my skin, on my breasts, on my thighs as he traced circles with his fingertips, drawing vines and tendrils. He leaned over and slid his tongue against my own and I welcomed his presence in my home, my bedroom, my body. Joe reached for protection and then rose above me, bearing down with the mastery of his ancestors—robust and full of vigor. As my legs entwined around his waist, I forgot all about ghosts and spirits and long-forgotten bones in a sweep of love that brushed them into the dark corners of my mind.

  BY THE TIME the kids came trooping through the door, we were dressed and back in the kitchen. My heart ached at the look on their faces when I broke the news that Sammy hadn’t come home yet. Tears in their eyes, they headed into the living room to play with the kittens. I ordered the takeout, then Joe and I talked over coffee while we waited for it to arrive.

  He leaned back in his chair. “You met with Irena today, didn’t you?”

  I blinked. “Did she call you?”

  “Her lawyer did,” he said, breaking into a wide grin. “The lot’s mine. He’s working up the final papers now. We can get back to work on it, though I have to tell you, that damned place scares me out of my wits. What the hell are we going to do about it?”

  I went over everything that had happened with Brent and Irena and White Deer. “I’ve come to the conclusion that Brigit must be searching for Mab. The Will o’ the Wisps were there to lead us to her body, thanks to the pact the faeries made with her great-grandfather,” I said. “I’m thinking that if we clear the lot, Sammy and Mab will be able to exchange places and Brigit and Mab will be free to rest or go off and do whatever it is that spirits do.”

  “Maybe so,” he said, musing. “Broken hearts and ghost cats and skeletons in trees . . . the stuff legends are made of. I wonder who killed her.”

  “If you ask me, I think it was probably Brent. According to Irena, he was always unstable and, unless I miss my guess, for some reason he snapped and killed her, then tried to cover it up. When Irena heard that a skeleton was found on the lot, she must have put two and two together.”

  “Maybe.” He toyed with his coffee mug. “Meanwhile, though, I want to talk about something else. Specifically, your birthday.”

  I blinked. We’d barely discussed my birthday since we’d found the basement and the hauntings had started. “Yeah, tomorrow night. I’ll be thirty-seven. Joe,” I said, hesitating.

  “What?”

  Taking a deep breath, I took the plunge. “Do you think . . . in ten years, do you think our age difference will bother you? I’ll be closing in on fifty by then. Well, forty-seven, and you’ll still be in your prime.”

  He stared at me, puzzled, then a look of understanding spread across his face. “Good God, woman! Has that really been worrying you?”

  I nodded, blushing.

  He laughed. “Emerald, I’m in love with you. Not your age. You’re beautiful and vibrant and everything I want in a woman. Whether you’re thirty-seven or sixty-seven, I’ll still love you.” With a soft look, he reached across the table and took my hands in his. I hung my head, embarrassed to have questioned him in the first place.

  “Yes, you’re ten years older than I am, but does that matter? I’m not going anywhere. I’m not looking for anyone else. I’ve never been a player, and I don’t respect the sort of man who toys with a woman’s affections. Like Andrew.”

  I blinked. Joe had a thinly disguised disgust for the man I’d been dating before he came into the picture. I didn’t blame him. Hell, it had been a bitter pill for me to swallow when Andrew dumped me. When he came crawling back a few months later, I’d been secretly overjoyed to be able to tell him thanks, but no thanks, not interested. We’d tried being friends, but that hadn’t worked out. He’d called a few times since then, once getting Joe on the line—which hadn’t been a pretty sight. Every time he’d sounded whinier and needier.

  I looked up into Joe’s face. He held my gaze for a moment, questioning, and then I broke down and laughed. “Oh Joe, you’re so good to me, and I’ve been an idiot about this. Thank you for understanding, for not treating me like I’m crazy.”

  “I never said you weren’t crazy,” he said sternly, but then snorted. “But, I’d never call you an idiot. Now, where’s dinner?”

  The doorbell rang and I heard the kids come racing downstairs. “Mom, Mom! Takeout’s here!” Kip sounded overjoyed. Dinner could make or break his mood.

  As Joe went to pay the delivery man, Randa sidled up. “Mom, I invited Gunner over. He’s supposed to be here in a few minutes. Is that okay?”

  I gave her a long look. “Well, I wish you’d asked earlier, but yes, it’s fine. I ordered plenty of food. Go wash up.”

  Kip was setting the table when the doorbell rang. I answered and there stood Gunner Lindemeyer. A tall boy, he was already my height. Skinny, blond, the picture of a young Scandinavian lad. But I could tell that he’d been crying recently, and could only imagine how lost and confused the boy must have felt as he tried to find a way to cope with the enormity of his situation. I wanted to wrap my arms around his shoulders, to let him cry. He needed a mother’s touch, and his own mother was fighting for her life.

  “Come in.” I escorted him into the kitchen just as Miranda bounced back from washing up. Her gaze fell on Gunner and she almost tripped. Blushing, she stammered out a greeting. Oh yeah, she had it bad.

  We gathered around the table and I took a long look at the boy. He’d survive, I thought. He might be hurting now, but he had a strong spirit. If his parents made it through, he’d help them recover. He was just that kind of kid.

  As we dove into the fried rice and pot stickers and sweet-and-sour pork and almond chicken, Gunner didn’t say much but the expression on his face told me just how much he missed all of this—family and chatter and bright lights and companionship. I had the sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t too happy at his aunt’s house.

  For once, my darling Kip had the good sense to keep from sticking his foot in his mouth. Not once did he approach the subject of the fire. Randa, on the other hand, morphed into a moon-eyed love child. She hung on every word Gunner said, as infrequent as they were. Her food sat untouched on her plate, until I gently prompted her to eat.

  Joe and I glanced at each other. We weren’t the only ones in the thralls of love. Bless his heart, Joe launched into telling the kids that he’d be able to buy the lot next door after all and the conversation picked up.

  Kip cheered. “Does that mean we can go back over there and look for Sammy?”

  I nixed that idea right off. “No, it does not. We’ve been keeping an eye out for her but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you prowl around over there.”

  Gunner cleared his throat. “Are you and Mr. Files engaged?”

  I glanced at Joe and he grinned. “Not really, not yet.”

  “I’ll ask her to marry me when I think she’ll say ‘yes,’ ” Joe said.

  Kip and Randa stared at us, open-mouthed. I decided to change the subject. “Dessert’s in the freezer—Donna Linda’s ice cream.” The kids had developed a taste for a gourmet ice cream that we could only get at the Shanty Barn.

  Thoughts of marriage forgotten, Kip and Randa raided the freezer. Gunner waited politely for a bowl, which Miranda prepared. He glanced around the kitchen and I could tell he was taking in the feel of the house.

  “My aunt thinks that you’re an evil woman,” he said almost offhandedly. “She’s nuts, though, so don’t be offended.”

  I stared at him. Where had that come from? “What?”

  “My aunt. She says that you’re in league with the devil because you talk to ghosts and spirits and you don’t go to church. I don’t like my aunt,” he added. “She bitches because I write.”

 
; I wasn’t sure what to say, especially with his choice of language, but Randa jumped in immediately. “Mom isn’t evil! You’re aunt’s crazy—”

  “Randa, hon, that’s not a nice thing to say, but I appreciate you defending me.” I wasn’t sure how to deal with this. I didn’t want to belittle Gunner’s aunt in his presence, but I wasn’t about to let somebody ride roughshod over my reputation. “Gunner, what do you think?”

  A faint smile appeared on his lips. “I think my aunt and I don’t get along very well,” he said, accepting his ice cream.

  I nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it sounds like you’re going to have some problems all right, kiddo. Well, just for your peace of mind, I don’t believe in the devil . . . not the way a lot of people do. I do believe evil exists, but it comes in many forms and shapes and behind many facades.”

  “So does bad luck,” Gunner said, staring at his plate.

  Randa glanced at him, then at the rest of us, and did something I never expected to see her do—she slid an arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay—I know it will. And I’m here if you need to talk.”

  He blushed, but I could tell that she had eased his pain, if just a little.

  I quickly looked in Kip’s direction—this would be the perfect chance for him to embarrass Miranda, but again, he wisely kept his mouth shut. When I saw he wasn’t going to take advantage of the opportunity, I smiled at him and gently nodded. As soon as the kids finished dessert, they decided to head out into the backyard to search for Sammy since the skies had partially cleared. I excused them from kitchen chores and they bolted for the door.

  Joe kissed me and headed back for work, and I was alone in the kitchen. The house seemed to breathe with life and, for a brief moment, everything felt calm. I yawned as I cleared the table. Long day, and I wanted a bubble bath and my sweats. I’d just started to stack the plates in the dishwasher when Randa jerked the door open and stumbled in.

  “Mom, Kip fell out of a tree—he’s hurt.”

  I was out the door before she could say another word, racing barefoot through the mud. There, near the fence that separated my property from the neighboring lot, Kip lay on the ground beneath the oak. God damn it! Weren’t my children safe in our own yard? As I skidded to a halt, falling on my knees beside him, he groaned and looked up at me.

  “I saw her, Mom! I thought I saw Sammy. She was in the tree, but then she disappeared!” Samantha . . . Kip must have seen Mab and got the two mixed up. I glanced up at Gunner, who looked confused.

  “I didn’t see anything,” he said.

  Randa caught up and knelt beside me. “Should I call the hospital?”

  “Where’s it hurt, kiddo? Are you okay?”

  He shook his head, biting his lip and I could tell he was in a lot of pain. “M-m-my arm, I think I broke it when I fell.”

  I grabbed the flashlight that was lying on the ground and trained it on his arm. Sure enough, his right wrist and forearm were twisted in an unnatural position. Shit. I turned to Randa. “Go call Joe. He’ll bring a medic unit. Tell him I think Kip’s arm is broken.”

  She scrambled to her feet and raced off while I tried to keep Kip from squirming. “Kiddo, I know it hurts but please, keep calm. Joe will be here right away, and he’ll fix you up good and proper.”

  “Am I gonna have to go to the hospital?”

  “Probably,” I said. “But I’ll be right there with you.” I brushed his bangs back. His forehead felt clammy. Shock, probably. I glanced up at Gunner, who was pulling a Bambi-in-the-headlights. Emotional overload, probably. “Gunner? Gunner!”

  He slowly shook his head and looked at me. “Huh?”

  “If you want to help out, why don’t you go see how Randa’s doing with that phone call? And ask her to bring me a thick blanket, my shoes, and a coat.”

  After he disappeared toward the house, I leaned down close to Kip’s face. “Kiddo, tell me what happened.”

  “We were calling for Sammy and then I looked up at the oak tree an’ saw her up there. She was meowing. Randa saw her too, but Gunner didn’t. Anyway, I started climbing up to get her and I almost had her when . . . when . . .” His lip trembled.

  I winced. Not only was my son in pain but the one thing he wanted most in the world had been right within his grasp before she slipped away. It must have broken his heart when he realized she wasn’t really there.

  “When what, hon?”

  “She disappeared—poof—and I tried to grab for her and fell out of the tree.” He shivered and I put my arm around him, taking care not to shift his shoulder. Randa and Gunner came back then, they were carrying my heavy coat, a pair of sneakers, and three blankets.

  “Did you get hold of Joe?” I snuggled one blanket under Kip’s head, then covered him with the other two.

  She nodded. “He should be here in five minutes. He said not to worry.”

  Yeah, right. Not worry. Good one. “Randa, I think Gunner had better go home for now. I can’t drive him, so go call his aunt and have her come pick him up. If she can’t, then get a ten-dollar bill out of my purse and call a taxi.”

  She looked crestfallen and shot one quick glowering look at Kip, but when she saw that I’d noticed her expression, she hung her head. “Okay,” she said.

  “Ms. O’Brien?” Gunner hung back.

  “What is it, Gunner?”

  “Thanks for everything. I had fun.” After a moment, he added, “Hey, Kip, you get well.” He gave a half-wave and followed Randa through the kitchen door.

  Joe was good to his word. Within five minutes he and a crew were crowded around Kip while I stood back, watching and biting my nails. They examined him thoroughly, then Joe headed over to me.

  “Well, his arm really took a beating. Legs seem fine, he has some bruises and needs to be checked just in case there’s any internal damage, but overall, I’d say he escaped relatively unscathed. What the hell happened?”

  Keeping my voice low so the other paramedic couldn’t overhear us, I filled him in on what had gone down. “We have to do something Joe. White Deer offered to help me cleanse the lot. We’ll get started tomorrow.”

  “But tomorrow’s your birthday—”

  I cut him off. “And I want to see more birthdays! And I want my kids to see more birthdays. But at this rate, we may not unless we clear up this nightmare that’s been set in motion. Listen, do you mind if the kids and the cats and I stay at your apartment tonight after we get done at the hospital?” I wasn’t above bumming a safe haven when we needed it.

  He nodded. “You don’t have to ask, babe. You’ve got a key.”

  “All set, Captain!” His partner waved to the stretcher where Kip lay firmly strapped in. “He’s good to go.”

  “I’ll see you at the hospital,” I said. After giving Kip a kiss and assuring him that I’d be there soon and that everything was going to be A-okay, I stood aside to let the paramedics pull away. As soon as they headed down the street, I raced back to the house where Randa was waving at Gunner as he sped off in the back of a taxi.

  “How’s Kip?” she said.

  “Broken arm, I’m not sure what else. Joe said that he should be okay.” I shuffled through my purse to make sure I had everything, then nodded her toward the door. “Randa, did you see Sammy in the tree too?”

  She paled. “Yeah, though I thought it was the ghost cat at first. But Kip wanted it to be her so bad . . . I’m sorry.” She hung her head. “I told him go ahead and climb up to check it out. Kip’s so good at climbing trees that I thought he’d be okay. We didn’t have time to come get you. Since we were in the backyard, I thought we’d be safe.” As she shrugged into her jacket, she said, “Mom, will Sammy ever come home?”

  I smoothed her bangs back from her face. “I really think she will, honey. We’re going to stay over at Joe’s apartment tonight after we get done at the hospital. Then tomorrow, White Deer is going to help me finish cleansing the lot and maybe that will be just what Sammy needs to find her w
ay back.”

  As we hopped into my SUV, my stomach churned. What if we couldn’t clean the lot and it stayed a haven for sadness? What if Sammy never came home? I pushed everything out of my mind, unable to cope with any more stress.

  WE REACHED THE E.R. ten minutes after Kip was trundled in. The nurse glanced at me and smiled.

  “Ms. O’Brien, you’re here again?” She blushed. “I mean—”

  “I know what you mean,” I said and rolled my eyes. Great. Of all the places where I could be known as a regular, it had to be the hospital. Let’s see, how many times had we been here in the past year? I started counting on my fingers and then shook it off. Enough of the past. Time to focus on the present. Hopefully, the rest of the year would pass without incident.

  “Captain Files asked me to tell you he had to return to the station. He wants you to call him whenever you have news.”

  “Thank you. Can I see my son now?”

  “He’s in the x-ray room. As soon as he’s done, we’ll take you back. Meanwhile, I need you to fill out some new paperwork. We’ve updated our system since you were in last.”

  Fretting, I filled out the forms while Randa plunked herself down on a sofa and picked up a magazine. Half-an-hour later, the nurse motioned for me to follow her and led me down the labyrinth of sterile corridors. We stopped in front of a set of double doors that looked all too familiar. I took a deep breath as she peeked in, announced my presence, then guided me through.

  Kip sat on the table with an oversized hospital gown wrapped around him. He looked cold, and even though he’d put on his stalwart “I’m a big boy” face, I could tell he was tired and worn out. The doctor glanced up as I entered the room.

  “You his mother?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Emerald O’Brien. How’s my son?”

  “Kip will be fine once he’s mended. His arm’s broken, but it’s a clean break and the x-rays showed no internal damage. Your boy’s a tough customer. Of course, he’s going to be in a hard splint for six weeks, and a sling for awhile, but that’s not going to be so bad, is it, slugger?” He grinned at Kip and a light shone through the doctor’s aura. Curt, but caring.

 

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