“She figures you must be a complete jerk if Miki’s trying this hard to get your attention and you haven’t even called to thank her.”
Gideon took the tray of food, the scent of grilled onions on a medium-well hamburger filling the air. A double order of onion rings and a cola joined the burger. In a plastic cup half-filled with water was a pink carnation, a red rose, and greenery. He didn’t need to read the tiny tag attached to each piece to know what they meant. It’d been the same the last three times. Carnation for never forgetting, the rose for love, and the sprig of pine for hope.
Gideon clenched his teeth, fighting to gain control of the urge to take the vase and throw it across the room. Damn it. He’d thought Miki was special, but not that way. He didn’t want her to be a witch. Anything but that.
Too damned bad he didn’t get a choice.
After refusing, six times, to see her the day before, she’d taken to sending gifts and tokens. Pulling in the townspeople to her side. As much as it irked him to see their sly grins and know they were all gleefully sticking their fingers in his private life, it was easier than having to see Miki’s face. Or the pain in her eyes. The same pain he felt, but refused to acknowledge.
His jaw set, Gideon slammed the tray on his makeshift desk. He’d taken over the meeting room of the library as an office. He’d wanted to work from home. To hide away and deal with his anger, hurt, and shame. But after his acceptance as temporary mayor two nights before, the townspeople hadn’t been willing to let him too far out of their sights. After all, their current mayor had already skipped town.
“How would Marcia know what I have or haven’t done?” Gideon couldn’t stop himself from asking. “And since when is she on Miki’s side?”
“So you admit there are sides?”
Dammit, he knew better than throwing these people even the hint of a bone. Like a pack of rabid dogs, they’d be all over it.
“I’m not admitting anything. Look, Fred, I don’t have time for this. I need to solidify the contracts, start preparation for that first tournament. The pre-fishermen will likely be out here the first of the month. That leaves us three weeks to save our asses.”
He’d had to pull a lot of strings and make a lot of promises to get them a date that soon. But with the demise of the Spud Doll Factory, jobs and a source of income were imperative to the town. How sad was it that he was actually grateful for the turmoil? It gave him plenty to concentrate on, to help him ignore his pain over Miki’s shocking news.
“Did Gene get back from inspecting the docks and launch ramps out at the lake yet? He’d promised to do that this morning.”
“Nope, haven’t seen him since he corralled your momma to go out there with him. He’s scared shitless of them cult people, he figured Deloris was the toughest person he could think of to protect him.”
Gideon pulled a face and jotted himself a note to go talk to the people living on the East side of Mage Lake. Maybe they’d be willing to get involved somehow. It was time to heal the rift, bring the town back together.
Of course, they all believed in supporting magic, so it was doubtful they’d be too reasonable. Too bad he hadn’t realized Miki’s true calling. He could have sent her out there, let her lure them in like the Pied Piper.
“Boy, it’s not that we don’t appreciate what you’re doing here, ’cause we do. But you need to put your own affairs in order first, so you can give this the focus it needs.”
It was all Gideon could do to keep from growling at the older man. He sucked in a deep breath, ignored the stabbing ache in his heart at the idea of letting Miki go, and shook his head.
“There’s nothing to put in order. Miki’s stay here is only temporary. It always was. She’ll be on her way soon. And believe me,” he said bitterly, “the last thing we need is her sticking around. I don’t think the town is ready for what she’d stir up.”
“What the town is ready for is accepting that girl. She’s proved herself a standup kind of gal.” Fred jutted his chin at the lunch tray, then the huge vase of flowers, balloon bouquet, and black-haired spud doll holding a sign that said ‘Let’s talk.’ “She wouldn’t go to all this trouble if all she cared about was leaving.”
Fred sighed, then leaned his weight on the old buffet table Gideon had unearthed to use as a desk. Gideon winced as the table creaked at the weight, but it held.
“Boy, we all know how hard it was for you when your wife up and waltzed out of here. But, other than both being females from California, she and Miki have nothing in common. You might think you’re saving yourself a world of hurt pushing the girl away so it won’t be so bad if she leaves. But all you’re doing is denying yourself a chance at happiness.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s a lot more involved. And believe it or not, Miki and Tilda have an amazing number of things in common.”
Like being witches. Damned witches. Most men went through life happily oblivious to the fact that there really were witches in the world. Gideon, though? He seemed destined to seek them out, open up his heart, his life, and his damned town to their machinations.
“All women have things in common, Gideon. Let’s be realistic, there are only so many traits out there. Some might say that my Reba and your momma have a lot in common, if you know what I mean. But you and I both know it’s what they have different that really counts.”
Fred didn’t know what he was talking about. Gideon’s grinding teeth must have warned him he’d gone too far. With a roll of his eyes, the older man shrugged and lumbered to his feet.
“You just think about it, boy. That girl has potential. Even though I don’t want this getting back to your momma, I have to admit, I kinda like the gal.”
Gideon stayed silent as Fred left. Not hungry, he ignored the tray of food and tried to work on his supply list. After five minutes of staring off in space, he threw the pen across the room and shoved to his feet.
Why the hell did Miki have to be a witch? Why couldn’t she be the sweet, spunky woman he’d fallen in love with?
He caught sight of one of the Wilson boys heading toward his pseudo-office, a huge teddy bear in his arms and an even huger grin on his freckled face. With a groan, Gideon realized he just couldn’t take any more.
He sidled to the side-door, slipping out before the boy saw him. But once outdoors, he realized there was nowhere to go to escape the gossips, the sly looks, or the well-meaning advice.
So he went to the one place he knew he could be alone. The Town Square.
He wandered along the cobblestone path, the murky shadows making the square dim as night, even though it was barely noon.
As Gideon wandered the meandering path, he noticed here and there sprouts of green growth. He frowned. When had things started growing here again?
Miki would have loved to see it. She’d been fascinated with the square and its history. Gideon snorted. And no wonder. A history that included a witch was right up her ally.
Hadn’t that history been part of Tilda’s fascination with the town? Why she’d insisted they move back there?
Not that he could claim Miki’d moved to Rossdale for the history. No, she’d moved here to heal, to try and regain her spirit, to get her feet back under her.
And she’d done one hell of a job. Even though with hindsight, he could see where magic had played into some of her progress with the house, he’d also seen her apply a lot of elbow grease, good humor, and effort.
She’d come out of a rotten marriage, like him, but she had recovered. Gideon stopped stomping around and heaved a sigh. He shoved his hands into his front pockets and leaned back on his heels while he contemplated the gazebo in front of him.
In barely a month, Miki had managed to do what Gideon hadn’t in six long years.
She’d found faith in herself again. He’d watched it happen. Watched her confidence grow, her humor support her. She’d taken the rotten hand dealt to her, and played it for all it was worth.
And him? He’
d been hiding here, like a wussy-boy, from his ex-wife and her nasty threats. Six years after she’d blown up their house and stormed off, Tilda was still running his life.
Gideon hunched his shoulders against the spasms of tension and stared at the gazebo, although he really didn’t see anything but a blur of remembered images.
So now what? Was he willing to let Miki go because she had one little thing in common with his ex-wife? He’d known from their first date that Tilda was a witch. She’d never been one to hide her light under a bushel, and he’d been fascinated. Raised with Rossdale’s history, he’d always identified with Hiram Ross. Although he’d kept it to himself, he’d often thought it was the town’s rejection of magic that had caused its downfall.
If he were honest, he’d married Tilda because she was a witch, secretly thinking she would make him Rossdale’s hero. Instead, he’d been a big fat zero.
But he’d fallen in love with Miki because of who she was. Sweet, plucky, and deeply loyal. And he’d turn away the best thing to ever happen to him because... what? She had that one little thing in common with Tilda? At least she wasn’t the vindictive, nasty type his ex was.
He plunked down on the gazebo steps to try to sort through all his conflicting thoughts. His heart was screaming for him to run to Miki and beg her to forgive him. Damned if his head wasn’t yelling the same thing just as loud.
Something tickled his neck. Gideon slapped at it, thinking it was a bug. But it didn’t feel like a bug. He turned and his jaw dropped in shock.
Holy shit. The last time he’d seen the well, it had been covered in dead brambles. Now it was lush with green leaves and small, fragrant white flowers twining around it.
Hope unfurled inside him, as fragile as the tiny white blooms. He brushed the plaque and read the words again. Faith, magic, and love.
Even though he’d been busting his ass this last week to make the tournament happen, he’d never been quite sure if it’d be enough. If there was really a chance of saving the town from ruin. Now, reading this with new eyes, Gideon realized the simple truth.
Rossdale needed its witch. That was the source of its success or failure. That belief and acceptance of magic. And while he’d believed in it—after all, a house in flames was damned good proof—he’d never really accepted it.
Could he now?
He closed his eyes and called up the image of Miki’s face. Of her smile and the sound of her laugh. If he tried, he could almost smell the sweet scent of her perfume.
If the magic was a part of Miki, then yeah, he’d accept it.
His heart pounded with excitement as he considered the ramifications, the possibilities. He barely bit back his roar of triumph.
They’d survive. With or without Miki, they’d not only make it all work, but they’d lift the miserable gloom that had kept the town teetering on extinction for the last thirty years.
But it’d be a hell of a lot better with her.
He needed to think a few things through. He was sure there was more to the prophecy than a simple acceptance of magic. There had to be. His best bet was figuring out that sticky business of the people who’d left Rossdale years before to live out at the lake.
Gideon puffed out his cheeks and considered his options. It looked like it was time to start repairing his town. But first, he needed to repair his relationship with Miki.
* * *
Gideon waited for the townspeople to take their seats. After his epiphany in the Town Square, he’d tried to reach Miki, but she wasn’t answering her cell. He’d taken a trip out to Mage Lake, met with a few old friends, and learned some very interesting facts about what was really going on out there.
And while he was amped over his discovery and what it meant to the town, he was still antsy to fix things with Miki. Had his refusal to acknowledge her overtures been too much? Had she changed her mind?
And if she had? When Tilda had left, he’d actually been relieved. But life without Miki? He didn’t know if he could do that.
Setting aside his personal thoughts, he called the meeting to order and quickly got to the point.
“Look, I met with a few of the people out at the lake. We have a chance here to reunite the town, and I think we need to take it. Right now they’re being jerked around by some guy named Antonio. The people I talked to said nobody would be sorry to see him gone, but too many of them are afraid of him.”
“So?” Marcia asked, still wearing the same glare she’d had for him since she walked in. “What’s that to us? They are the fools who got all wrapped up in that cult crap, let them deal with him.”
“They were once a part of this town. And I believe if we’re going to survive these lean times, if we’re going to successfully implement all those tourism plans, we have to mend some fences.”
The room exploded in argument. Thankfully, nobody seemed to expect him to actually answer, they all just wanted to voice their opinions at the top of their lungs.
Gideon stretched his head from side to side to try to relieve the tension knotted in his neck. For the first time, he was finding it hard to find the energy to care about the town. Not when the one person who really mattered seemed to have disappeared before he could fix things between them.
Then, like the sun coming out on a dismal, dark day, she walked in and quietly took a seat in the back row of folding chairs.
A rarely felt joy suffused him and Gideon sent up a prayer of thanks at the sight of her. His grin stretching his cheeks, he ignored the arguing townspeople. He stepped down from the podium and made his way through the crowd to where she sat. Her eyes were huge, almost amused at the ruckus in the room. But it was the trembling of her lower lip that kicked him in the gut. He’d hurt her. And, despite the sudden stares and voices calling his name, the only thing that mattered was setting things right. He reached out to take her hands in his and pulled her out of her chair, then out the door.
Once outside, he turned to face her. With both hands gripping her bare shoulders, he leaned down to press his forehead to hers.
“Sweetheart, I have maybe five minutes at the most before they all come out here screaming for attention. But I have to fix things with you. With us.”
“Yeah?” He saw her swallow, her lips pressed tightly together. Those huge, midnight eyes stared up at him, the hurt he’d caused plain to see in their depths.
He looked around the deserted street, the evening air heavy with the scent of nearby roses, and heaved a sigh.
“This isn’t how I wanted to do this. I know we need to talk, and this obviously isn’t the right time. But I don’t want you to keep thinking there’s a problem.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed a soft kiss over her knuckles before turning it over to place a kiss on her palm.
“Miki, I’m sorry about what I said the other night. I’m sorry if I seemed, well, prejudiced. I realize what you have makes you special, but that’s not a bad thing. I knew you were special all along.”
She pressed her lips together, then gave a sniff. “I realize that was probably a shock, my being a witch and all. And part of me wants to just let it go, be grateful that you’re willing to accept my magic, and move forward.”
His stomach, already working toward a world-class ulcer, burned. “But?”
“But I’ve come to realize I’m more important than that. I am actually proud of who I am, Gideon. Of what I am. I need to be with someone who feels the same. I won’t hide ever again. Not from someone I’m in a relationship with.”
“So,” Gideon said slowly, “What you’re saying is I have to accept you, magic and all?”
“Yes.” Her wince was infinitesimal, but enough to tell him she didn’t believe he could do it.
Gideon couldn’t stand that look, so he pulled her close, and despite the audience, kissed her. When he pulled his lips from hers, Miki gave him a breathless smile, but didn’t drop the subject.
“As great as that is, I won’t walk away from my powers, Gideon. I won’t deny who I am.”
>
He frowned. “Walk away? Why would you? This is who you are, Miki. I... Well, I have reasons it freaked me out, but it never entered my head that you’d give up a part of yourself. Not for me, not for anything.”
There was a pounding and they both looked over to see Fred, Reba, and Deloris tapping at the window. Fred and Reba were grinning, but Deloris looked ready to spit carpet tacks. Right at them. Gideon grimaced, but nodded at their gestures to return to the room.
“I have to get back in there. I just dropped a huge bomb on them, I can’t leave until we settle the issue.” He tucked her under his arm and brushed a kiss over the top of her head. “I have some things I need to tell you. Will you come back to my house after the meeting? We need to finish this talk.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he promised.
Her smile slowly spread, erasing most of the worry. Not all, but enough to give him hope.
“I can’t wait,” she said quietly. “After we talk, can I take you to bed and have my way with your body?”
They were laughing over the descriptions she whispered of what she’d like to do later when they walked, arm in arm, back into the room.
They were met by applause, whoops, and catcalls. Gideon grinned and looked down to see the look of pleasure on Miki’s face. Looked like she’d gained one hundred percent acceptance now.
He caught sight of his mother’s pinched face at the front of the room, and realized maybe it wasn’t quite one hundred percent. Yet.
Then, slowly, the clapping and yells died away. Gideon figured they’d all caught sight of his mother’s disapproval. Too damned bad. He made his way toward the front of the room, frowning as he saw the faces weren’t chastised, but actually a combination of fear and shock.
He looked at his mother, but she wasn’t looking his way. She faced the podium, her jaw low and her eyes huge.
Gideon couldn’t see through the crowd, but as if they’d sensed his confusion, the bodies parted, clearing the center aisle and leaving a clear view of the dais.
Gideon’s feet stopped of their own volition, as did his heart. For a brief second, his eyes blurred. He blinked, sure it had to be a mistake. A mirage. A damned nightmare.
Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers Page 82
