by Candace Sams
But even though they were harmless, Blain decided that if someone didn't come clean about the shenanigans soon, all hell was going to break loose. He was getting tired of it, and he began to attribute his fear of the future to finding all the odd little bits of superstitious paraphernalia. The problem was, some of what he found was old and dried up, and some of it was fresh. It was impossible to tell how long the stuff had been laying around, so he couldn't come out and accuse his visitors or Hugh about something so odd.
So while the others ate supper and made small talk, he answered when spoken to but kept his eyes on them. If he concentrated hard, he could imagine that he knew what they felt. But if that was true, he was worrying over nothing because everything he imagined he felt about them was non-threatening.
When everyone decided to turn in early, he remained outside on the porch. If he had any sense, he'd go to bed and get some sleep. But a restless urge hit him. The moon was full and the night was young. He decided to go into town, knowing where the trip would take him. Rhiannon. He felt a kind of pull, as if something beckoned him to her.
When he drove up in front of the antique shop and parked, he saw the lights were on upstairs. He made his way up the steps to the side entrance. The wooden frame creaked as he ascended. Before his fist could even make contact with the door, Rhiannon opened it.
"Darling, what a wonderful surprise. I thought I wouldn't see you until later this week." Rhiannon pulled him into the apartment, slammed the door behind him and threw her arms around his neck.
The kiss they shared started slowly.
But Blain abruptly ended it. Where the touch of her lips had once been sweet, they now seemed sour. With all the makeup she wore, she looked a little harsh instead of alluring and sophisticated as he'd once thought her to be. And suddenly, there was something dark, almost seedy about her. He stared at her longer than he normally would have, and she seemed to notice some change in him. Her expression altered, going from open lust to a thoughtful, pensive stare.
"You feel tense," she said as she began to massage his shoulders. "What's wrong, darling?"
"Nothing's wrong. It's just that Hugh's friends showed up yesterday, and they're the strangest couple of women you'd ever want to meet."
"Tell me about them." She continued to rub his shoulders.
He moved away from her so that he was slightly out of reach. Something inside him—an unknown warning—made him want to back away from her touch. He attributed his attitude change toward Rhiannon to the new people in his life whose actions had his nerves on edge. Without warning, the old tingling that usually proceeded a bout of nausea rushed over his skin. It was almost as if he'd developed a sudden aversion to being too close to Rhiannon.
Recalling she'd asked him to tell her about his visitors, he said, "There's an older woman, Shayla. Hugh says she's some kind of cultural expert, but she wears weird clothing while looking for wild herbs in the woods. Then there's Afton."
Blain stopped. What could he say about Afton that wouldn't sound absolutely ridiculous? And why didn't he want to talk about Afton with Rhiannon? Something inside him didn't want to have the women associated with one another, not even in a conversation.
"Go on. Tell me about her, too," Rhiannon coaxed as she moved closer and let her hands drift over his body.
"Afton bakes good muffins, and she's got a knack with animals." It was the best he could do without sounding absurd.
"What's so strange about wearing odd clothing while looking for herbs, being a good cook and liking animals? I think these new friends of yours sound perfectly charming." She softly blew into his ear and took the lobe into her mouth.
Again Blain moved away. At any other time, having a woman like Rhiannon come on to him would have been so sexually arousing that he wouldn't have been able to stop the urge to throw her down and have wild sex. Now, however, the idea not only left him feeling cold, it actually began to irritate him.
"Sorry, I can't do this." He gently disengaged her outstretched arms from his body and moved away from her.
"What's wrong? You've never acted like this before."
He noted that her tone of voice had become as cool as their relationship was about to. "I don't know what to say. I've led you to believe I came by here to make love, and that wasn't the case. All I wanted to do was talk."
"Talk? Well, that's something you've never really had an interest in, darling. Can't we talk in bed?"
Blain shook his head, and his mind quickly went back to all the empty times they'd shared. There wasn't one substantial moment in their encounters. "Every time I'm here, all we do is have sex. I haven't meant to use you, but that's exactly what it feels like I'm doing." He watched as her hard expression became even harder and colder.
"That's what I suddenly seem to you? Used? Is this the part where we start being just friends? You know, the beginning of the royal flush for me?" She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
Blain held out his hands in a supplicating gesture. "I can't explain it, Rhi. Please try to understand. There's got to be more between a man and a woman besides sex. When we're together, we hardly ever leave this apartment. We never go out to eat, to a movie or a drive. It's just sex, and some of what we do is ... well, kinky. We never talk. Never. Doesn't that bother you?
For heavens sake, Rhi, I don't even know your favorite color or what music you like. I hardly know anything about you."
"No, none of that has ever bothered me," she snapped. "And it didn't bother you either until now. What the hell is wrong with you?"
He dragged one hand through his hair. He didn't know how to articulate that he wanted to be with someone who could have thoughts deeper than what sexual position to try next. There had to be more to a relationship than that. He remembered the way his parents had loved each other. It had only taken a glance between them and one knew what the other was thinking. He had grown up watching that kind of passion. It was deep and pure, and he wanted that kind of devotion. That kind of communication. Sex would be all the more fulfilling because of it.
"If your silence is any indication of the way we're headed tonight, I suggest you leave until you get your head on straight. I don't know if your uncle has had a hand in your change of attitude or these people from England have instigated it. Or maybe you're starting to listen to the town gossip. Whatever it is, Blain, I don't like it. I've only done what you wanted, and you enjoyed it. Now you've gone absolutely pious, and your current attitude couldn't be more boring."
"You're right. And I'm sorry. But can't we talk about this?"
She adamantly shook her head. "Not right now. You've made me feel like the whore everyone in town thinks I am. Just go." She turned her back on him.
"I'm sorry, Rhi." He was on the verge of telling her she deserved better, but her sullen tone made him feel even worse about his treatment of her. He could easily justify his actions by saying they were both adults, and she could have altered their relationship at any time. But his parents had raised him to love a woman, not use her. And that's exactly what he'd done, whether she'd agreed to what they shared in bed or not. Of course, he wasn't being completely fair to her. He could have also slowed the relationship down, or changed or altered it at any time, and he hadn't. Worse, he was actually seeing her differently and comparing her to Afton. He was judging her as she claimed. He quietly turned away and left her apartment.
He was walking to his truck when he saw Reverend Myers standing on a nearby corner. The clergyman's house wasn't far away, and Blain had often seen the man walking in the vicinity. He guessed Myers was on one of his nightly constitutionals and had, coincidentally, seen his retreat from Rhiannon's apartment.
"Good evening, Reverend." Blain nodded at the tall, wire-thin man, refusing to be intimidated by the preacher's presence and his glowering, holier-than-thou expression.
"Young man, I'd like to have a word with you." He raised his hand as he stalked over to Blain's truck.
"Look Reverend Myers, I know
what you're going to say, so you can just skip it. Okay?"
Blain was in no mood for the soul scorching the man would give him and started to walk away. But his path was suddenly blocked by the Reverend's lithe body. A bony finger was planted firmly in front of his nose as the man began to lecture him for the hundredth time Blain watched Myers' face turn a dark shade of rhubarb red, and his angry expression made his sharp features even more pronounced. The man reminded Blain of an overactive, mean-tempered terrier that needed medicating.
"Blain McTavish, this is a small town. If you must proceed in your carnal activities, can't you and that woman find someplace else to meet? You have this whole place talking, and Harvest is a God-fearing, Christian community. Even our children know of your liaisons with that .woman from New York Must you flaunt what you're doing in the faces of parents who are trying to raise their children with morals? Can't you even pull the shades in that apartment so the rest of us aren't inflicted with your debauchery?"
Blain watched the thin man's face twist and prune up, and his stringy, dark hair fall into his eyes as he lectured. Blain took a deep, calming breath and tried to be tactful "Look, Reverend Myers, what the rest of the town does is none of my business, just like what Rhiannon and I do is none of theirs. Your parishioners would better serve their children and the community by watching out for drug dealers instead of watching what I do with some woman. Now, if you don't mind, I've had a long day and would like to go home."
"You should be worrying about a home for your immortal soul, not in satisfying your lustful needs with a daughter of Satan."
Blain raised his hands in frustration and walked around the preacher. He was tired of dealing with the man. Time and time again Myers had confronted him about his affair with Rhiannon, and the old doomsayer didn't seem to care where the confrontations took place. He'd just come out of the feed store the last time the hawk-faced clergyman berated him, and half the town's farmers had been present to hear the lecture.
On that occasion, Blain had also held his temper and walked away. The man was annoying, but he figured that sooner or later another citizen would transgress so the good Reverend would have somebody else to chase after. The only thing that could have been worse tonight would be to run into Hannah Biddies. She also liked spreading their arguments all over town. Some days Blain coordinated his errands depending on where he thought the two of them wouldn't be.
"Mark my words, young McTavish. You'll be punished for your sordid behavior. You'll be punished," Myers yelled portentously as Blain got into his truck and drove away.
***
For days, everything at the farm went on much the same. Blain got up early in the morning and would pretend not to notice Afton's excursions into the garden, where she continually looked for something, and Shayla's walks into the woods, where she collected her herbs. During this time, his physical strength returned to normal, but there was an increasing feeling that something bad was about to happen. That same urgency that made him work harder and watch everything, making him feel like a man who was being pursued but didn't know why. And that put him in a constant state of wariness.
He also kept finding more strange talismans and bundles of garden herbs. Lemon grass was tied together with wild flowers and ordinary sage with lemon balm. If he kept collecting them, he'd have enough dried herbs to cook with all winter long. And some of the livestock he'd been treating for various illnesses seemed to get better without having to call the vet.
Then, there was Afton. The more she tried to keep out of his way, the more he wanted her to get back m it. During the day, he found himself returning to the farmhouse for some stupid excuse or another just to be near her.
One warm evening after supper, he saw her exit the house and walk toward the woods. He quickly excused himself from Hugh's and Shayla's presence, sensing the two older people might want some time alone. He caught up with Afton in the yard at the back of the farmhouse. She was sitting on an old log and looking up at the twilight sky. Her smile warmed him as he approached.
"Nice night to sit and watch the stars come out." He took a seat beside her.
"It's beautiful here." Afton paused for a moment. "This is where your mother wanted to put her garden, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Yeah, this is the place. One day, when I catch up on all the work, I'm going to drive into town, get the plants and spend a long weekend getting it all done."
"You should. It would be a wonderful way of remembering her and your father "
He didn't speak for a time, too caught up in memories to converse. Just quietly sitting there with her seemed to make the subject matter a bit more bearable.
"Hugh said your parents passed on quite suddenly,"Afton said, making him feel as if she could read his mind
He took a deep breath. "Yes. I'd never known them to be sick. I came home from a trip one afternoon, and Mom was sitting on the front steps crying. Before she said a word, I knew what had happened. But she never explained exactly how Dad died. She just sat there crying as though her heart would…" Blain stopped, unable to continue
"How did you find out what happened?" Afton gently urged.
Blaine shrugged "The doctor at the hospital said it was a massive heart attack."
"Is that what you believe?"
Strange question. What else should he believe! "I...I want to believe he died doing what he loved. That it was quick and painless. So, I guess that's as good a way as any to go. But I never got to say goodbye, and that.. .that was hard."
"It's all right, Blain." She looped one arm around his. "I'm sure he knew you loved him."
Taken aback by the sudden contact, Blain gazed at her for a moment before pulling her a bit closer. He wanted to talk all night with her. It seemed so right. "It didn't take long before Mom started to get sick. The doc said she was suffering from some kind of general organ failure. It didn't make sense, and I wanted her to go see a specialist. But she wouldn't and said...she told me she wanted to be with Dad." He tried not to let his emotions overcome him. Afton tightly held his hand, and he was grateful for her touch.
"One night, not long after that, I got up to check on her," he continued. "She was taking her last breaths on this earth. I wanted to call for help, but she wouldn't have it. All Mom wanted to do was go to Dad. And she told me...she said..."
"Tell me," Afton softly coaxed and held his hand tighter.
"Right before the end, Mom said not to worry. She said that someone would be on my side, would defend me, and that I would understand when it was time. Then she was gone." He pushed back his hair and looked into the distant forest. "I didn't know what she meant, and it didn't seem to matter at the time. Then, out of nowhere, Hugh showed up a few weeks later. All I had to do was take one look at him and I knew he was Dad's brother. There are a lot of things that didn't make sense, but I was so glad to see him. To know that he was alive and that I had some family left."
"Blain, if it isn't too painful for you to talk about, what did you do with your parents' remains?"
He looked at her and wondered where the hell that question had possibly come from. And why she'd ask it? But Afton was as strange as his life seemed to be at the moment. So he said, "I had them cremated. Their urns are on the mantle in my bedroom. For some reason, I just couldn't bury them. We moved around for most of our lives, so I guess I wanted to find someplace suitable to scatter the ashes. A place they could call home. And Harvest just didn't seem to be home for them."
Afton nodded in agreement "You'll find that place I know you will."
He turned to look into her blue eyes "I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I guess it's because you're so easy to talk to."
"I want to be a friend, and friends listen to each other and try to help."
For a long moment, he considered her comment. "What if a guy needs more than just friendship? What if he needs and wants some real commitment? What then, Afton?"
She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "I think a friend is what you ne
ed most, .at the moment."
He slowly leaned toward her. "You're right. But sometimes that's awfully hard to do, especially at the moment."
Afton felt his lips brush her hair and wanted to fall into his arms. She could feel a strength about him that she hadn't with any other man. He was gentle with his animals and loved the land. But he was warrior-class at the same time. His build, carriage, and the power she sensed within him all said so. And what would happen when he found out about his heritage? Would he want anything at all from her? Or Hugh and Shayla?
She gently pushed him away, though it was one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. His touch made her insides weak and trembling. "Why don't you bring out those garden plans tomorrow? Maybe we can start on them."
Blain sighed when he sensed Afton's reluctance. She wasn't ready for his advances, which was just as well. He had someone else to think about. Rhiannon. Though he knew it wasn't fair, he couldn't help comparing the two women. One of them was a like a glittering gem—cold and lustrous. The other was like the reflection off a pond—deep and entrancing. And of the two, Afton was so much easier to talk with. "All right. We'll look at the plans tomorrow," he said.
"Good. I guess I'd better get inside. Shayla will be wondering where I've gotten to, and she's sort of my boss."
Blain watched her rise and walk gracefully away. "How am I ever gonna let you go, little sunflower?" he whispered.
"How?"
***
Later that night, Blain woke up in a cold sweat. It had been so long since he'd felt ill that he'd thought he was permanently over whatever had weakened him. Using his night stand for support, he tried to rise, but a sudden bout of dizziness sent him and the table straight to the floor. He tried to sit up, and everything went black.
Afton woke up immediately at the sound of furniture and a body hitting the floor. She turned on her lamp and grabbed her robe. By the time she was in the hallway, Shayla and Hugh were there as well.
"What was that sound?" Afton asked as she stood beside Shayla, her hand gripping the older woman's arm.
