The Emerald Ring

by Dara Girard

  Graham chased after him. “What are you doing?”

  “I have to find her.”

  “Who?”

  “The woman who helped me. The American.” At least he knew that much about her, although her US accent also had another cadence he couldn’t quite place.

  Graham grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop and face him. “I really think you need to take a seat. She didn’t do anything.”

  James yanked his arm free. “What do you mean? You were there when she healed me. The words she said.”

  “I don’t remember her saying anything.” His expression of concern grew. “I think—”

  James looked past him through to the exit and saw the sun glint against her earring. He pointed. “There she is!” She was outside in the garden. If he ran he could reach her. But he hadn’t run in such a long time that only after a few steps his chest hurt, his legs ached. She was moving too quickly, he wasn’t going to reach her. He was never going to see her again. He couldn’t let that happen. He used whatever fuel he had left and by the time he reached her he had no breath left. He fell on his knees before her, taking her hand in his as a silent form of apology and stared up at her hoping his eyes could say what his body wouldn’t let him.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Graham said to her. “He’s never been like this before. He’s not all there but he’s harmless.”

  Graham’s words angered him. His body may betray him, but never his mind. Not yet at least. “I didn’t…mean…the words. I want…thank—”

  The woman knelt down in front of him and up close he saw how young she was, although how she carried herself seemed much older. She pressed a cool finger over his lips and he felt his body craving more of her touch. “Shhh…let your mind calm or the words won’t come. But I know what they are and you’re welcome. You have nothing to worry about. This weakness won’t last because you’re stronger than it is.” She smiled then began to stand. But he stopped her, lightly tightening his grip on her hand and he saw a spark of fear in her eyes, but he couldn’t let go.

  “You’re scaring her,” Graham warned in a low voice.

  God he didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to scare anyone, but he just didn’t have the words. He didn’t have the manners of others. He felt a biting pinch on the back of the neck. “That’s enough of that,” his mother said. “Let’s go.” She addressed the young woman. “I’m sorry about this.”

  James inwardly screamed. He didn’t want the woman to think he was crazy or not quite right in the head. He tried to meet her gaze, hoping she’d understand, but she looked at his mother and his heart fell. He shouldn’t have run after her. At least she would have thought he was normal then.

  “No need to apologize,” she said, then surprised everyone, most of all him, by taking his hand. “We know each other. I didn’t recognize him at first.”

  “James?” his mother said as he scrambled to his feet. “You know this woman?”

  Yes, his heart cried, giving him the strength to stand tall. Yes, he’d been waiting for her his entire life and now she was here. She understood.

  The woman looped her arm through his. “Could you give us a moment, please?”

  “Yes, they can,” James said, answering for them then turned so that they could head deeper into the garden along the pristine path of begonias and poppies. He tilted his face to the summer sun, listening to the sound of her footsteps beside him as they crunched along the gravel path, then become a hush as the path turned into a grass carpet.

  “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it? I think so,” she said, easily turning a statement into a question then back into a statement again. “And you’re walking so quickly and steadily, your breathing is easy and you’re not worried about anything.”

  He felt it. The breathless feeling ebbing away, the worry, the fear becoming a distant memory. He felt her hand on his arm. His mother had chided him for not wearing a jacket and now he was glad that he hadn’t or he would have missed this chance to feel her warm hand against his skin. Her hand. No one had touched him with such command yet tenderness. His mother’s touch was always tinged with possession and fear; his assistant with duty but this stranger’s touch was like nothing else. No, he was wrong, she wasn’t a stranger. He’d been waiting for her all his life. He focused and let her name whisper into his thoughts. The name that had been on the edge of his awareness since he was a child: Michelle. He sighed satisfied. Her name suited her. “You have a beautiful name.”

  She turned sharply to him, alarmed. He wasn’t surprised. He’d been told once that his voice could have that affect on people. “How would you know that?”

  “What?”

  “I haven’t told you my name yet.”

  That’s right, she hadn’t. “I-I must have overheard it.”

  “What do you think my name is?”

  Damn, he was caught. He could be wrong. She could be named something else. He shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “My name’s Michelle.”

  The tightness in his chest eased a little. He’d been right. He took a deep breath and gazed up at the sky. “I’m not crazy.”

  She stiffened. He’d frightened her again and hadn’t meant to. “James. My name is James.”

  He could still feel the tension in her. He turned to her, hoping that his eyes could express what words couldn’t. But when his gaze met hers the shocking awareness that had first gripped him seized him again. She wasn’t afraid. She was…what was that expression on her face? What made her brown eyes shine like that? What made her eyebrows lift in surprise? “You’re not afraid?”

  “No, but when you were on your knees I felt as if I knew you.” She shook her head. “But I know I don’t.”

  “Do you believe in fate?”

  “No.”

  “I do.”

  “James,” his mother called to him. “It’s time to go.”

  He ignored her. “And we were meant to meet. There’s…so much I want to say.”

  “James!”

  He briefly closed his eyes. Must she call him as if he were a child or her pet? “Your number, please,” he said.

  Michelle shook her head offering a sad smile. “I thought you believed in fate. If we’re meant to meet again, we will. Remember, you’re strong.”

  Panic gripped his heart. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Not when he’d just found her. He pulled out his wallet and held out his card. “Here’s my number. Call me any—”

  She shook her head again. “I really don’t think—”

  “Please.”

  She quickly let his arm go and rejoined the tour group, leaving him feeling lost; his heart heavy. He let the card float to the ground. She’d lied or perhaps he’d lied to himself. But he could no longer deny it: She had been afraid of him.

  Michelle returned inside the main building, pressing her hands against her burning cheeks. She bumped into a couple posing for a picture and apologized before heading aimlessly through one of the large rooms. What had come over her? Why had she taken his hand? And why had she panicked when he’d asked for her number? She’d gotten close to something wonderful—a possibility, a hope—and she’d run from it. She knew there was nothing wrong with him, despite the way the older woman and the other man treated him.

  His voice was low and gravelly, not unpleasant but not soothing either. It was harsh, as if a mountain had spoken. A beautiful, majestic mountain. She loved mountains. Why hadn’t she given him her number? There was no harm in giving it to him. He may not have called her anyway.

  But if he had…that was her true fear.

  What are you? His words still echoed in her thoughts. Not ‘who’ but ‘what’? And his searching brown gaze had sought an answer she couldn’t give. She shouldn’t have touched him; she shouldn’t have spoken words to try to influence him. What if he thought she’d casted a spell? She hadn’t. She wasn’t a witch. None of them were. What an inadequate word to describe her, but she wished she could have given him an answer.
Why had she done what she had? Why had she taken his hand and pretended to know him if she was only going to run away?

  But she couldn’t go back because something strange had come over her. It wasn’t only a feeling as if she’d known him before, but when he’d been on his knees looking up at her, she’d been transported to another place. Another time. The castle garden had fallen away replaced with a palace in ancient Ghana and she was a queen. He knelt before her pledging his heart and life. And she loved him. But although she knew it wasn’t her life and it wasn’t her memory the emotions felt real.

  Michelle shook the memory from her mind. It was madness. She couldn’t face him again and now she’d never know why he’d looked at her twice.

  You were not brought up to be a coward, she could hear her mother say. Michelle glanced down at her ring and her father’s words came to her mind. She didn’t have to be afraid. There was someone out there who wouldn’t be afraid of her gift.

  Michelle raced back into the expansive garden hoping he was still there since only a couple minutes had passed, but he was gone. She searched but there was no sight of him. Her heart fell.

  It was her fault for letting him go. She turned to head towards the tour bus then stopped when she saw something white skating along the gravel path. She walked over to it and picked it up. It was a business card. His business card. She gripped it in her hand with a smile. Perhaps she had been given another chance after all.

  Chapter 12

  Joanna had that look. That ‘you’re full of bullshit’ look. He hated that look.

  Graham sighed as he poured himself a whiskey. He took a long swallow before he set the glass down. She could drive a man to drink and had driven him to do so on a number of occasions. But she paid him enough for it though he was careful enough not to get wasted. She wasn’t worth the headache. She’d been quiet on the drive back from the castle to the Kensington flat the Winfield’s owned when they were in London. He knew she was upset but always waited for her to speak first. She sat in the sitting room with her legs crossed at the ankles and her gaze fixed on him.

  “Do you like this job?”

  He hated that question too. She always used it when she threatened to fire him. But she wouldn’t. She needed him too much. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then why are you doing such a poor job of it?”

  She was nervous, anxious and she needed a whipping boy. She knew what this trip meant. That her son was getting stronger, that one day he might not need her anymore. That’s why Graham was around: to make sure James stayed in line. The incident at the castle had been unfortunate, but he didn’t plan to see it repeated anytime soon. “It won’t happen again.”

  Joanna sighed. “I knew letting him have his way would be a disaster.”

  “Not a complete disaster. He reunited with a friend.”

  She fixed him with another ‘bullshit’ look. “Did you believe that?”

  “The woman seemed harmless.”

  “That’s not the point. What if she hadn’t been? What would you have done then?”

  “Ma’am—”

  “Do I need to remind you of your past?”

  He bowed his head. Do I need to remind you that I know all about your son?

  “Don’t disappoint me again.” She stood and left the room.

  Graham poured another glass of whiskey and toasted the door before downing the contents.

  He’d made an error at the castle. He hadn’t been paying attention and he’d gotten caught. It was his job not to get caught. That was his specialty. As a Chicago cop, he hadn’t gotten caught with prostitutes or the occasional missing evidence bag. As a husband, he hadn’t gotten caught with the lady who delivered the dry cleaning. His marriage had broken up for other reasons too boring to list. Meeting Joanna had changed his life. He’d been one of the first officers at the scene of her nine-year-old son’s accident. She’d been traumatized and scared. She’d turned to him and he’d made it his goal to comfort her.

  It had turned into a profitable move when she hired him to look after James, who she said was ‘accident prone’. People laughed at Graham being a glorified babysitter but when he gave them a round figure of what he earned they stopped laughing. And if that wasn’t enough, a quick punch to the jaw usually did it.

  Being around the Winfields showed him a side of life he’d never imagined. The travel, the food, the surroundings were a far cry from his Southside upbringing. Graham looked at the solid white gold diamond ring on his pinkie. It had been a gift from Joanna for his fifth year anniversary. He hadn’t thought he’d last more than a year looking after James. But the job came easy. James’s father was rarely around, so Graham took his place, not quite as a father figure—Joanna would not have allowed that—but as another man to emulate. A man who knew his place. Joanna liked her men that way, which is probably why her husband stayed gone. She hadn’t even taken on his surname, preferring to be referred to as Ms. Winfield, and neither had her son.

  As a boy James wasn’t spoiled but he wasn’t normal either. Now at twenty-five he was trying to create his own life. Joanna wouldn’t like that.

  And Graham liked his job too much to like it either, but he had to be careful to not let either side know what he was up to.

  He had to keep Joanna happy and James would have to re-learn his place in the family.

  “I don’t know how he could have let it happen. It was absolutely awful.”

  Joanna sat in the living room with her sister-in-law, Angela, a tray of tea and biscuits on the table between them. It had been hours since the castle incident but she was still upset and had called Angela to cheer her up.

  “You still haven’t told me what happened,” Angela said, eying a biscuit she wouldn’t dare touch. She sighed. Tea and biscuits. Why did it always have to be tea and biscuits? Or tea and sandwiches? Just once couldn’t it be wine and cheese? Angela looked at the chocolate covered biscuit again. She was trying to cut back on sweets. She wanted to maintain her slender frame although she knew she could easily burn the calories off at the club later, but she still wished Joanna had more of an imagination.

  “It was something awful, dreadful.”

  Angela blinked slowly. “Yes, you’ve said that.” When Joanna didn’t expand she said, “Am I supposed to guess or will you fill in the blanks?”

  Joanna rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m still so shaken. It could have been a disaster. I don’t know how to put it into words.”

  “Beating about the bush doesn’t make it any clearer I’m afraid.”

  “James met a woman.”

  Angela sipped her tea. It could use more sugar but she was cutting back on that too. “James doesn’t know any women. I’m not even sure he likes them.”

  “She said she knew him.”

  Angela looked at the sugar bowl. Would one more sugar lump be so bad? Joanna liked her tea blends so bitter and since it was the only thing to drink… She reached for the tongs. “Do you believe her?”

  “No, but what was worse was that he lied to me.” Joanna tapped her chest. “He lied!”

  Angela pulled her hand away from the sugar bowl, resisting the temptation, and looked at Joanna. “About what?”

  “He said he knew her too.”

  Angela grinned. “You can’t fault him for that. My Cory would do the same. If a pretty woman pretended to know him he—”

  “She wasn’t that,” Joanna said in a flat voice.

  “What?”

  “Pretty. She may be interesting, but certainly not attractive.” Joanna shivered. “But there was something about her.”

  “Go on,” Angela urged when Joanna suddenly grew quiet.

  “She was wearing an emerald ring.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I think she might be…”

  “She couldn’t be.”

  “She was wearing his birthstone and we know what that could mean.”

  Angela waved her hand. “A coincidence. There are a n
umber of women who could be wearing his birthstone right now.”

  “I wouldn’t have made much of it too, if he hadn’t acted so strangely.”

  “The likelihood of a woman like that really existing is rare.”

  “But not impossible.”

  “No.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Angela said, taking another sip of her tea and trying not to grimace. It amazed her how much Joanna ignored her hints about how nice a change a glass of wine would be. “Don’t fret. He’ll go to sleep and forget all about it and you should too.”

  “But what if he starts to ask questions?”

  “He doesn’t know what questions to ask.” She laughed. “We hardly know what to ask. Relax, nothing has changed and nothing will change.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” a deep voice said from the doorway.

  Chapter 13

  The two women turned to him startled; Angela spilling tea onto her saucer, before setting it down.

  James walked over to his aunt and kissed her sunken cheek before he pushed the plate of biscuits closer to her, hoping she’d take a few. Although fashionably dressed in a brown leather skirt and red silk blouse, she always had a gaunt, hungry look about her. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he said. He took a seat. “I was passing by and I couldn’t help overhearing your discussion and since it’s about me…” He shrugged. “I’m curious.”

  “Your mother was telling me what happened today.”

  “Oh, she told you about my decision to visit the office this week?”

  Joanna looked at him alarmed. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I’m telling you now. I also let grandmother know.”

  “Without consulting me?”

  “She’s very happy,” he continued, ignoring her outraged tone. “She likes me showing interest in the business.”

  “You should have talked to me first.”

  “I didn’t think I needed to.”

  “I like to know everything that goes on—”