When she opened her eyes there were stars reflected in his dark eyes, stars tangled in her hair, stars swirling around them in the cave. Fireflies—brighter than the candlelight—pulsing in time with some distant music.
Grace began to convulse around him, crying out as he thrust up into her once, then again, and then shouted her name as he came.
The smell of warm Grace and old books. The sound of pages turning—slower this time—and the occasional scratch of a pen on paper. The flickering of a candle, still burning away.
“And you’re still not dead,” Grace said. She didn’t even look up from her note taking. She was seated against the wall with that journal propped against her knees.
“Still buried underground with an insatiable witch. I can live with that,” Nick said. His voice was hoarse. Understandable, considering what they had been up to for the last couple of hours.
“Insatiable?” She looked up then, her eyebrows raised.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Did I say that? I meant—uh—completely satisfied and fulfilled witch.” He smirked. “Sated. That’s the word. Sated.”
“And here I thought I was an angel,” she said.
Nick stretched, enjoying the absence of the fatigue and fever that had dogged him for months, and the comfortable ache of muscles that hadn’t been used quite so enthusiastically in a long while.
Grace closed the journal, marking her place with a piece of paper. “Before our rescuers knock through that mess out front, I wanted to thank you—”
“You know, I love this whole Southern politeness thing. Thank you, Dr. Grace, for proving that all my various components are in fine working order,” he said to the ceiling. “Over and over and over—”
“You’re welcome,” she said, cutting him short. “But I was thanking you for something else.”
“You’re welcome. Whatever it is.”
“Seriously, Nick.”
Her tone made him sit up with a theatrical groan. “I need coffee before serious.”
She reached for her pack, sitting against the wall beside her. “Instant?”
He finally woke up enough to notice that she was fully dressed and everything that had been spread around their little nest was packed away, except for the blankets and his clothes, which were draped neatly over a rock.
“Meh.” He pulled the blanket around himself and settled back against the wall. “We need to ask those guys for a thermos. Or maybe we can slip out the back, go down and brew some, and be back up here before they notice. Maybe the mountain will let us out for coffee.” He grinned at her.
Grace frowned.
“You’re right to protect that back entrance. You might even want to put some additional security in place to keep people from nosing around.” Nick saw her flinch a little, and wondered, for a moment, if she regretted sharing her secrets with him. “But I’m sure the cave will be safe. It has been for—”
“No, you’re right. I’ll need to put in some extra measures once the entrance is open, just in case,” she agreed. “But I was thanking you. Stop interrupting.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Thank you for telling me about your gift,” Grace said. “What you shared was painful—and you didn’t have to. But—” she put her hand over her heart, “—it really helped me see some things in a different light.”
“Good.” Nick should’ve known Grace would pick up the obvious parallels. “I’d imagine it’s hard for doctors sometimes, knowing their skills could help and heal so many people, but only having so many hours in the day and so many years of their life to do it.”
Grace smiled. “Is that part of your sixth sense again?”
“No. It’s just something I had to deal with too. So I know what goes through your head when confronted with the tough choices these—” he looked at his hands, still struggling to reconcile what he had learned with reality, “—gifts present to us.”
She nodded. “When I started med school, Pops said that if I was a true physician, not only a doctor, at some point I’d get overwhelmed by the thought of all the sickness out there in the world. And then—then he reminded me of the fireflies.”
Nick waited.
“He reminded me that my part wasn’t to try to save all the fireflies in the world, trapped in their jars. My part was to save the one right in front of me.”
Nick smiled. “Saving the world, one firefly at a time.”
There were tears glimmering in her eyes when she looked up at him and he moved as if to comfort her, but she waved him back, shaking her head. Frowning, he settled back to listen.
“I had forgotten that he had used that old tale on me that way until you told me your story, and I read something in this,” she stroked the old journal in her lap. “Sometimes I get tangled up in my own head—thinking too much about all the fireflies out there trapped in their jars—and it helped to realize that someone else had learned to cope with the same horrible choices. So, thank you.”
“How about this: when you get that whole ‘tangled up in your head’ look, I’ll just say ‘fireflies’. It’ll be our code word.” He smiled, but she didn’t return it. In fact, she looked like those tears were going to spill over.
Damn. He had rushed things—assumed he could instantly become a part of her life because it felt so right to him. Nick had known when he stood in front of that carving back in the cave, felt the compulsion to touch that handprint, that he would feel incomplete until he did. But he would also feel incomplete without Grace in his life. And he would not tie himself to this place, whatever it meant, without knowing she would be at his side, in his heart, forever.
Grace watched him quietly, her eyes still glimmering. He was probably scaring her—again. Back off, McKenzie. You’re crowding the lady.
“Learn anything from Granny Lily?” he asked.
She shook herself, then picked up the old journal from her lap and held it against her chest. “There’s so much to learn.”
“So, answers?”
“Answers?”
“To all those questions you have. Data, theories, scientific stuff?”
At last she smiled again. Nick breathed a little easier.
“Oh. Well, yes and no. Parts of it are like a journal—a diary—wordy and dense,” she said. “And parts are like a lab notebook where you record your results as you go.”
“So, did you jump ahead to the end?” he said. “I do that when I read.”
Her smile wavered. “Well, yes. Only the very end. She lived to be quite old for her time, and she became a bit cryptic—more poetic than scientific. Dreams instead of observations. Plus the ink’s fading a bit here and there.” She patted the ancient book. “I think I need to go through it one page at a time and get to know the way she thinks. She’s very linear and precise most of the time—”
“Like her great-great-great-granddaughter,” Nick added.
Grace smiled. “Yes. It’s clear that she was writing it just for herself—at first.”
“Any help at all?” he asked. Something felt sideways here and he sensed it was coming from Grace, but he couldn’t sort out what it was.
“Well, it does help to see her experiencing the same things I have.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll have time to finish it, if we’re stuck in here for a while.”
“Actually, we’ll be getting out of this cave sooner rather than later,” she said.
He sat up. “The sheriff?”
“Yes,” she held up the walkie-talkie. “Called in an hour ago. The SAR guys are really worried about us being in here for any length of time with all the toxic byproducts. I think they’re working in hazmat suits.”
“Well, great. Sorry I slept through the fun.” Nick looked back toward the lab. “Hopefully it won’t take too long so they can get back to rescuing other folks.” Who want to be rescued.
“I think they can. They’re going to pull enough of the rocks out then stabilize it so we can climb through the hole.”
“When?”
“Right now. I don’t know how they managed, but they got the heavy equipment up here. We’re to stay as far away from the entrance as possible until they give me the all clear—” she wiggled the walkie-talkie, “—once they have a stable opening. So, you might want to put on some clothes.”
The blanket slid off as he stood up. He started pulling on his clothes, stiff with dried blood, and adjusted his vest and jacket so the bloodstains were hidden. “So, I guess we really don’t have time for a coffee run.” He looked back and caught Grace with her head down, wiping at her face with her sleeve.
“Grace? What’s wrong?”
The sheriff’s voice squawked over the walkie-talkie. “Hey, Gracie. Where are you guys?”
“So, you don’t think it will go to trial? Did they confess?” Grace asked Nick, who leaned on the breakfast bar gulping down yet another cup of coffee.
She saw Jake Moser shift uncomfortably. The sheriff stood inside the kitchen entrance holding his hat in his hands. Jake wasn’t a fool. He could sense the tension in the air and probably knew that Agent Nick McKenzie wanted him to get in his patrol car and leave. But Jake was an old friend, and Grace had asked him to make sure Nick got off the mountain safely. With Annie still running around out there, as far as they knew, it made sense. Although Grace wasn’t happy about the deputy who would be guarding her house for the duration.
“Pretty much. From the sound of things—” Nick glanced over at Jake, “—it appears that Annie was the brains behind the whole thing. Evan’s described as much as he knows about the operation, although he really didn’t know who was buying the stuff in Atlanta, and Mitch didn’t know much at all.”
“How is Mitch?”
“He’s still partially deaf, and he’s got one arm that’s a bit of a mess, but he’ll live,” Jake spoke up. “We haven’t found Boyd, or what’s left of him. And from the look of things, we might not find Annie any time soon, or we may catch her crawling out of the Pisgah half-frozen tomorrow.” The sheriff’s face went stony. “But after what Mitch told us about your Pops’s accident—” he made the word sound distasteful, “—I hope she’s a bit more than half-frozen.”
Nick moved as if to comfort her, but Grace turned away to pour herself an unnecessary cup of coffee. She had already had too many and her sour stomach and shaking hands proved the point. And she was exhausted. Too little sleep, too much emotion, and too many people trampling around on her mountain. And now Nick was leaving.
“Look, don’t worry,” Nick went on. “Jake is going to make sure you stay safe up here and my boss is making sure that you and the farm and Jamie are kept out of it as much as possible.”
Grace glanced at Jake, who nodded in agreement. “Good. Thanks.”
It had been a day-long marathon and the worst was yet to come. Nick had just finished his last conference call standing out in the snow using his sat phone because the land line went down yet again. And she still had to get someone up to fix the cell tower.
“I’m going to take just enough time to finish up this thing and hand in my resignation,” Nick said in a voice pitched for her ears. “Then—”
“How long will that take?” Grace interrupted.
Nick looked a bit frustrated. “Maybe a month. Maybe two. But I can take some time out and—”
“And you won’t need to go out into the field? You won’t be—”
“In harm’s way? No. I’m not a field operative anymore, Grace. This was an exception that got way out of hand.”
“And you’ll see a doctor,” she said.
His eyebrow went up. “I’m seeing one now.”
“I mean your oncologist.”
He grimaced. “Yes. Okay. I’ll see my oncologist.”
“And send me the report.”
“Yes. Okay. And send you the report. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy as hell?” That last bit was loud enough for Jake to hear and give an affirming snort.
When they both glared at him, Jake put his hat back on. “I think I’ll go wait on the porch. Night, Gracie.” He sauntered off and they heard the screen door slam.
“I’ll come back in one piece, Grace. I don’t plan on you ever having to use your magic on me again.” He seemed to think about that for a moment. “Well, except the way you used it last night.” Then he smiled and that dimple nearly did her in.
“Nick, about the coming back—”
“Maybe Thanksgiving,” Nick said. “I promised Matt, a friend of mine in Asheville, that I’d be back then. Maybe he and his wife could come up and meet you,” he looked down at his cup, avoiding her gaze. “And sometime I want to get you up to Cleveland to meet Mom and Alison and Tyler, my nephew. But maybe I can come back before—”
“Nick,” she said softly.
She saw Nick’s jaw tighten. He knew something was up and was trying to avoid it.
“I read quite a bit of Granny Lily’s journal last night and I found one of her rules,” she said.
He let out a relieved breath. “A rule?”
Grace went to the coffee pot and started pouring the contents into the thermos on the counter. She was a coward. She didn’t want to see the look in his eyes when he understood what she was trying to say.
“That day you caught me on the phone talking to Tink’s mom—”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know how much you heard, but Tink was a little…obsessed with me afterward.” Her voice shook a little and she took a steadying breath. “She wanted to feel like she was full of magic fairy dust all the time.”
“I can understand that.”
“She wanted to be with me, here on the mountain, all the time.”
“Grace—” There was a questioning note in his voice.
“I read enough of the journal to find out that this happened to Granny Lily too. When she healed someone who was extremely ill, like Annie’s grandfather, Duncan Taggart, who had whooping cough, they became overly attached to her. It’s the Florence Nightingale effect on steroids.”
“Grace—”
“She said that after about a month, it began to fade. That’s what happened with Tink. Her mom said she was absolutely fixated on me—throwing fits when they wouldn’t bring her here. Until about a month later—”
“What’re you saying, Grace? I’m not staying away from you for a month just because of some—”
She shifted around to face him. “Two.”
Nick’s eyes had turned steely gray. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Nick. This could all be a kind of contact high. You know I’m right.”
He was across the kitchen before she could finish, holding her shoulders. “Grace, I love you. This isn’t some obsession or afterglow or temporary insanity. I know what I’m feeling.”
Grace’s eyes glistened at the certainty in his voice. “So did Tink.”
“Grace. Be reasonable. I can’t—”
“I am being reasonable.” She pushed past him to grab the top of the thermos and screw it on in jerky motions. “I can’t chance waking up one morning to find you staring at me and wondering why you are in my bed—why you are in my life—why you left your job and turned your life upside down for me.”
“Listen to yourself, Grace. You’re not making sense—”
“It makes perfect sense. Even if you don’t believe what I’m saying, it’s well documented that no one should make major decisions when they have gone through a life changing event. And you’ve had two. And if you do believe what I’m saying, then you’ll understand when I say I feel like I’ve taken advantage—” She couldn’t talk any more or she would cry, so she bit her lip and went to get the bag of sandwiches and fruit she had packed for him out of the refrigerator.
Nick caught her halfway across the kitchen and grabbed her by the arms, turning her to face him. “Advantage? Dammit woman, you are insane.”
Grace could only blink at him.
Nick took a deep breath. “I think I fell for you the moment I saw you
in that parking lot. You hadn’t even touched me then, so you cannot blame this on magic. This isn’t some spell that I’m under.”
“After only three days?”
“Grace, this is more than magic. It’s—”
“If it’s more than magic, then you’ll be back. In two months. If not—” she scrubbed her hands across her face, “—you won’t. Simple.”
“Grace!” Nick’s voice was tense.
“I made coffee and sandwiches for you. For the drive.” She ducked under Nick’s arm and listened to him mutter some obscenity about witches under his breath.
I have to do this for your sake. I have to do this for both of us.
“You’ve never said how you feel about me, Grace.” Nick’s voice was deceptively calm as he followed her to the refrigerator. “Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me you don’t want me to stay.”
Grace took a deep breath and opened the refrigerator door, spending longer than she needed to, letting the cold air chill her heated cheeks. But when she emerged with the sack clutched in one hand, he was standing very close.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“And what if I did?” she managed to say. “What if I said ‘Don’t leave. Stay here forever’? Then in a month or two you wake up and realize it was all a mistake. Would you leave? Would Nick McKenzie walk out of here then?” She put her hand over his heart. “Not the Nick I know in here. I’m not just doing this to protect my heart. I’m doing it to protect yours.”
“Dammit, Grace. You don’t have to say the words. I can feel it.” He pressed his hands over hers, against the steady beat of her heart. “I know this is tearing you up. I can’t walk out of here with you like this—wondering if I’m going to come back—not knowing if I really love you.” His grip tightened on her hands.
The emotion in his voice shook her to the core. “T—two months,” she managed. “It’s not that long, Nick. You said the case might take a month or more—”
“Why two months. You said—”
“Twice, Nick. Both could—would’ve killed you.” She was crying now, just what she had promised herself she wouldn’t do. “Twice as long. I have to assume…Her observations suggest…”
More Than Magic (Books of the Kindling) Page 29
