The Sweetest Thing

by Barbara Freethy

  "You see yourself in the dreams?"

  "Not me exactly. I feel like I'm someone else, someone who lived a long time ago. There are two men, one that I'm supposed to marry, and one that I love. The old woman is angry with me, because I'm supposed to marry the one guy, but I'm resisting." Faith thought back to the dreams, trying to remember the details. "The pot is there, too. I think I made it for the man I love. Whenever the other man sees it, he becomes angry."

  "Faith, I hate to be pragmatic--"

  "But you're going to anyway."

  "I think your dream is reflecting your life, your ambivalence towards marrying Ben, your relationship with Mrs. Porter, the whole bit."

  "And the warrior, the man I love, that would be -- you?"

  His eyes darkened as he turned his gaze toward the window. "You don't love me, Faith."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because you shouldn't."

  "That doesn't mean I don't."

  "We barely know each other."

  "Sometimes I feel like I've known you for hundreds of years." She paused. "But I digress. In the last dream, the moon was full and the wedding ceremony was beginning. My face was painted, and they were taking me toward the circle of fire where people were dancing and chanting, and the drums were beating. Then I saw him -- the warrior. He stood in the shadows, and he put his hand out to me."

  "What happened?"

  "I ran to him. Then he disappeared. I couldn't find him. The walls started closing in on me, and I felt like I was being buried alive. Then I woke up."

  "Wow. When you dream, you really dream."

  "The warrior looks exactly like you."

  Alex leaned back in his seat. "It's just a dream. It doesn't mean anything."

  "Maybe not. But somehow..."

  "What?"

  She looked him straight in the eye. "I think something terrible happened to the woman when she made her choice, something evil, something to do with that pot. I feel it deep down in my soul, Alex. And somewhere out there in the desert is the rest of the story."

  * * *

  They landed in Phoenix a few minutes later. After disembarking from the plane, they made their way to the rental car desk where they picked up a four-wheel drive. The trip from Phoenix to Flagstaff took several hours, but the time passed rapidly for Faith. She had expected miles of flat, brown, dusty land, but the scenery changed a hundred times during their trip, from the blistering heat of the lowlands to the red bluffs of Sedona, and the mountains covered with ponderosa pine near Flagstaff.

  Having spent her entire life in various California suburbs, Faith had not been prepared for the vastness of this state, the endless horizon of land, the rivers and streams that wove through mazes of canyons, the incredible buttes that came out of nowhere to touch the sky.

  Along the way, she glanced through the guidebook Alex had bought at the airport gift shop. In the front was a map of the entire state. She saw notations for all the natural wonders, from the infamous Grand Canyon to the Painted Desert, the Petrified Forest, and the Badlands. She learned that the Navajo reservation covered almost the entire upper third of the state, stretching into the Four Corners area where Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah meet. Within the Navajo reservation was the Hopi reservation, and the two tribes were still arguing over boundaries.

  The book also went on to describe the various sites of prehistoric peoples such as the Anasazi. Discussion of archaeological sites was followed by pictures of pottery and baskets. Some of the pots looked similar to the half Julian owned, but nothing exact. That didn't surprise Faith. She had a feeling that particular pot was one of a kind.

  Julian remained quiet during most of the trip, occasionally commenting on the scenery, but otherwise he seemed to have little to say until they neared their destination. Then he became jittery, nervous, talking a mile a minute about that summer trip fifty years earlier.

  Julian told them that he and Suzannah had met in Flagstaff and spent a month taking day trips to various other parts of the state, sometimes staying overnight in rundown motels or campgrounds. He told them Suzannah had worn her mother's ring, pretending they were married, so no one would ask questions about who they were and what they were doing. Not that many people did.

  Arizona had been even less crowded fifty years earlier, and most people minded their own business.

  Faith let him talk. Through his stories she began to piece together a picture of Suzannah. She imagined a young, impetuous redhead with fire in her eyes and love in her heart, flouting the conventions, running off with the boy of her dreams, dancing in the moonlight in a meadow filled with wildflowers. Their story was pure romance, almost a fairy tale. She wondered if it would have a happy ending -- after all these years.

  Julian ran out of steam when they turned off the highway. In fact, as they stopped at a light, he began pulling at the collar of his shirt as if it were too tight, as if he couldn't breathe.

  "Alex, stop the car," Faith said, suddenly terrified by Julian's color, his trembling limbs.

  "What?" Alex glanced at his grandfather and immediately pulled into the next lane, finally turning in to a gas station. "Grandfather? Are you all right?"

  "Water. I need some water for my pills." Julian reached into his pocket and took out a bottle of pills.

  Faith handed him the water bottle she'd brought with her on the trip. He took a long sip and let out a breath of relief.

  "All right now?" Alex asked, his voice tense.

  "Yes."

  "Are you sure? Take a deep breath. Is there any pain?"

  "No. My chest felt tight for a minute there, but it's fine now."

  "Do you get these attacks often?"

  "Sometimes when I feel stress."

  "That's it. We're going to find our hotel and get you some rest. I knew this trip would be too much for you."

  "It's not too much, and I want to go straight to Suzannah's house. Now, Alex."

  Alex glared at his grandfather. Julian glared back. Standoff. They needed a bridge, so Faith leaned forward.

  "Why don't we compromise? We'll find our hotel, get some dinner, and decide what to do next."

  "Fine," Alex said.

  "Fine," Julian replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  Faith sat back and smiled at Jessie. "Boys," she muttered.

  "I heard that," Alex said as he started the engine.

  He drove through town until they found the hotel his secretary had booked for them. Alex and Julian were to share a room, with Faith and Jessie doing the same. They agreed to meet in thirty minutes for dinner in the coffee shop.

  "This is nice," Jessie said, as she walked into the hotel room. "Ooh, two double beds." She flopped down on one, bouncing in appreciation. "Cool. I never stayed anywhere as nice as this. I'm going to check out the bathroom. Can I take a shower?"

  "Sure, honey, whatever you want."

  Faith stretched out on the bed, relieved to have a few moments peace. She felt tired and cramped after the plane trip and the long car ride. Too much movement, she decided, closing her eyes.

  The silence soothed her, and she drifted off almost immediately.

  He was there in the moonlight, waiting for her with the pot in his hands. He opened his arms. She ran into them. He kissed her long and hard, pledging his love, his life, his soul. It was over too fast. But they could not linger here in the open canyon floor. The others were coming.

  Her betrothed would not allow her to be with anyone else. That she had chosen another -- a man who had come from another place, who had always walked alone, who called no other a friend -- would shame her betrothed. He would be an outcast for the rest of his life unless he sought revenge. He would have to kill them to save his pride. They had to get away.

  The warrior pointed to the rock formation in the distance where the butterflies danced. He told her his grandfather had spoken of another land, a world they had never seen. Beyond those rocks, he said, they would find their freedom.

  He
took her hand and she gave him her heart...

  Faith groaned as the drums got louder and louder. She sat up in bewilderment, finally realizing the pounding was coming from the hotel room door. Jessie was singing in the shower and obviously hadn't heard a thing. Faith got to her feet and walked over to the door, wondering how long she'd slept.

  She pulled the door open and Alex fell into the room, his hair wild and restless, his eyes frantic.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "Grandfather. He's gone."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  "Gone? What do you mean? Is he downstairs?"

  "No, he's not downstairs," Alex yelled. "He's gone. While I was in the shower he disappeared. He's not in the gift shop or the coffee shop or the bar. When I came back to my room, I found this." He held out a piece of paper.

  Faith took it from his hand and read aloud. " 'Gone to meet Suzannah. I can't wait another second. Love, Julian.' " She handed it back to him. "At least we know he's all right."

  "Do we? An hour ago he looked like he was having a heart attack because of stress. What kind of stress do you think he'll be under when he sees Suzannah for the first time in fifty years?"

  "A lot. I'll get my purse."

  Jessie came out of the bathroom, wearing a clean T-shirt and a pair of shorts, her hair wrapped in a towel. She stopped when she saw Alex. "Is it dinnertime already?"

  "Julian has disappeared," Faith said gently. "Apparently he couldn't wait to find Suzannah."

  Jessie's eyes widened. "Oh."

  Faith turned to Alex. "Did he take the car?"

  "No, I've got the keys right here."

  "Then he must have found a cab. We'll just have to go to Suzannah's house and make sure he's all right."

  "I don't like this, Faith. Why couldn't he wait?"

  "Your grandfather has a mind of his own."

  "He's selfish and arrogant and does whatever the hell he wants, no matter who gets hurt in the process."

  Faith read through the anger in his eyes. "And you're worried about him."

  "I guess I've gotten used to having him around. Come on, let's go."

  "I'm ready. Jess?"

  Jess ran a brush through her wet hair and slipped on her sandals. "I'm ready, too."

  * * *

  With the help of a local city map and the concierge, they found Suzannah's house without too much trouble. It was in a neighborhood on the outskirts of town facing the San Francisco Peaks, where snow could still be seen on the very tops of the mountains.

  Suzannah's house was a one-story white stucco building with red tiles. The lawn was well kept with colorful flowers planted in baskets along the walkway. The porch light cast shadows along the edges of the yard. There were a few lights on inside the house, but everything was quiet.

  Alex rang the bell and they waited for long, tense seconds. "Where is she?" he muttered.

  Faith started to answer, then heard movement from inside the house. Her stomach tightened and she couldn't help the nervous flutters of excitement that ran up and down her spine. She was going to meet Suzannah. Finally. Faith could only imagine what Julian must have felt when he'd stood on this doorstep waiting for his long-lost love to open the door.

  Faith held her breath as the door slowly opened and a woman stepped into the light. She was a slender reed, barely five feet tall, her hair a dark, rich shade of copper, her eyes a light hazel or green. They seemed to change as she stepped into the light.

  "Yes?" She looked at Faith, then at Alex. Her jaw dropped open as she stared into his blue eyes -- so like his grandfather's. "Oh, dear." She put a hand to her mouth. "You're -- you must be -- who are you?"

  "Alex Carrigan. Julian Carrigan's grandson. And you are?"

  "Suzannah." She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "You have the same eyes as your grandfather."

  "So I've been told. This is Faith Christopher, a friend of mine, and my -- and Jessie."

  Suzannah said hello to Faith and Jessie, still looking uncertain, unsure of what to do next. That was when it occurred to Faith that something was wrong. Suzannah did not look like a woman who had just been reunited with her long-lost love.

  Alex seemed to come to the same conclusion, his eyes narrowing as he tried to peer past Suzannah into the house. "I'd like to speak to my grandfather."

  "Your grandfather?"

  "Yes," Alex said impatiently. "Can we come in?"

  "Your grandfather is not here."

  "He has to be. He said he was going to meet you. He left at least a half hour ago. He has to be here."

  "I'm sorry, but I haven't seen him, not in more than fifty years."

  "Faith?" Alex turned to her with his heart in his eyes. She'd never seen him look so worried.

  She put a hand on his arm. "He's okay. We must have misread the message."

  "All he had was this address."

  "Is Julian all right?" Jessie asked, as she bit down on her bottom lip.

  "Yes," Faith said fiercely. "We didn't come this far to lose him now." She turned to Suzannah. "May we come in for a few moments, so we can think about what to do next?"

  "Yes, of course." She stepped back so they could enter the house.

  Suzannah's living room was a kaleidoscope of colors, reds, greens, oranges, and blues. There were handmade rugs warming the hardwood floors, Native American crafts, baskets and dolls adorning every corner of every table. There were paintings on the wall that were purely Southwest, spectacular views of the Grand Canyon and the Painted Desert, Monument Valley and the Sunset Crater.

  Faith couldn't help wondering if Suzannah had always surrounded herself with such things or if her return to Arizona had revived an old passion.

  "Would you like something to drink?" Suzannah asked as she led them toward the back of the house where the combined kitchen/family room led onto a small deck. The windows and French doors had been left open to offset the balmy night, and a light breeze blew through the house.

  "I'd like something to drink," Jessie said. "Do you have any soda?"

  "I have orange juice or cranberry juice. I also have several different teas."

  "Orange juice is fine."

  "Tea," Faith replied to Suzannah's silent inquiry.

  "Nothing for me," Alex said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "I can't believe my grandfather isn't here. He's been looking for you for years, and now that we've found you, he's missing."

  Suzannah handed Jessie a glass of orange juice, then filled the teakettle with water. In the light of the kitchen, Suzannah's face showed signs of age. There were fine lines running across her forehead, around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. She wore a light dusting of makeup, but it did little to shield the freckles or weather spots dotting her skin. Despite her years, she moved with an athletic grace that made every movement seem effortless. Faith could see why Julian had fallen in love with her. She must have been strikingly beautiful in her day.

  Suzannah walked over to the table and sat down as she waited for the teakettle to get hot. "I didn't know your grandfather was looking for me until two nights ago, when my sister-in-law called me. I felt this momentary panic when I heard his name. I knew that I couldn't speak to him on the phone, not after so long." She paused. "I really didn't expect him to come here. Maybe a part of me wondered if he would, but I really didn't expect it."

  "It would have been easier if you had just called him back," Alex said.

  "I was afraid. It's been so long. I didn't know what I would say." Her gaze feasted on Alex's face. "You look so like him, at least the man I knew. I can hardly believe I'm sitting here talking to Julian's grandson. Sometimes it seems like only a moment ago that Julian and I were dancing in the meadow next to the old gray sedan he'd bought for a hundred dollars. Other times it seems like centuries ago."

  The tea kettle let out a cry and Suzannah stood up abruptly. She busied herself fixing two mugs of tea, then brought them over to the table for Faith and herself.

  "Thank you," F
aith said as Suzannah settled back into a chair.

  They sat quietly for a few moments until Jessie finally spoke. "Aren't you going to ask her about the pot?"

  Suzannah stiffened, sitting straight up in her chair as if she'd been called to task. "The pot? Julian told you about the pot?"

  "Thousands of times," Alex replied. "He's hoping you still have the other half."

  "Why? What does it matter now?"

  "He has the crazy idea that this pot can be put back together and returned to its resting place. My grandfather believes that he was cursed when he took that pot and the only way to break the curse is to return the pot."

  Suzannah bolted out of her chair. "Cursed? I don't know anything about a curse."

  "It's probably not even true," Alex said.

  "I knew he shouldn't have taken it. But I didn't know about a curse. What is it?"

  "Apparently neither my grandfather nor anyone in his family will ever find true love as long as he has the pot."

  Suzannah stared at Alex, her light eyes shadowing with fear or guilt, Faith couldn't tell which. "Your grandfather -- Julian -- he's never been in love?"

  "He's imagined himself to be a few times, but it never worked out. He blames the pot. I'm not so sure that isn't just an excuse for his lack of commitment."

  Suzannah stared out the window at the darkness. She didn't move for several seconds, completely lost in thought. "I always wondered," she murmured.

  Alex rose to his feet. "We need to find my grandfather, Mrs. Conrad. I'm sure he'll be willing to answer all your questions, but right now I need you to answer one of mine."

  "No, I want you to go," Suzannah said, her voice turning shrill. "This was a mistake, a horrible mistake."

  "Now, wait just a minute," Alex said angrily. "It's your fault my grandfather has come all this way, and--"

  "And," Faith said, interrupting Alex with a sharp voice, "we want you to know how important you are to Julian." Faith knew that she had to smooth the way between Alex and Suzannah. Alex was worried and impatient, but that wouldn't get Suzannah to help them. She was ready to put them on the next plane back to San Francisco.