Like a Charm

by Candace Havens

  I wondered if there might be more to their relationship. Though he acted like she was a kid sister, I could see a certain fondness in his eyes when he spoke about her. Caleb didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would ask a girl out while he was dating another, but I couldn’t be sure. I could count the dates I’d had in the last five years on one hand. First there had been school, and then work. There had never been time.

  “It’s nice of you to help her out.”

  “I’m…between jobs right now, so it’s good to have something to keep me busy.” He frowned for a moment, and then I saw him force a smile, as if he were trying to push bad memories away. “Who knows, I may look for more work around here. I kind of like the town, and the company.”

  I smiled back at him, wishing I could wipe away the sadness that touched the corners of his eyes. My imagination went crazy and I thought perhaps he’d just come out of a bad relationship. Or maybe someone close to him had died.

  Picking up my plate, I moved to the sink. “Have you ever had one of Mr. Owen’s cream puffs?” After washing the dish, I put it in the rack and reached for his.

  “I had a blueberry muffin that shamed all the others I’d ever had before.” He took the cream puff. “I’m almost afraid to eat it. What if all the other cream puffs after this pale in comparison? I could be setting myself up for a lifetime of disappointment.”

  I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Getting hold of myself, I told him, “It doesn’t matter to me. If you don’t eat it, then more for me.”

  He pretended shock and took a healthy bite. Closing his eyes, he gave a soft moan, “Mmmmm.”

  “You are now officially ruined for life.” I took a bite of mine and did the same thing he did. “Thankfully you forget after a few years just how magnificent the things really are. I think he uses some kind of magic.”

  “Well, it’s that kind of town. Protected by a coven of witches—you never know who or what you are talking to. But I like it. The people are friendly and the food is the best I’ve ever eaten. And I’ve been around.” He took another bite.

  “Do you have a home base somewhere?”

  “Yeah. I work out of Dallas. I have a condo I’ve renovated downtown. That’s the place I call home, but I travel a lot with the job.”

  I thought most carpenters worked with contractors and stayed pretty close to home. There was something odd in the way he said “job.”

  “Caleb, what do you really do for a living?”

  “For a living?” He finished off the cream puff. “I’m a writer. At least that’s what’s been paying the bills for the last few years.”

  “Seriously?”

  He chuckled.

  I don’t know why, but I always think of writers as being bookish types—skinny, pale men and women with big, dark glasses. Caleb wasn’t anything like that. He was strong and muscular, and so damn sexy it was ridiculous.

  I cleared my throat. “I thought you were a carpenter. What do you write?”

  “Features for magazines.” He looked at his watch. “I do a lot of renovations for friends. I like to keep busy in between assignments.” He stood up. “Do you know if the television works? I wanted to catch the world news if that’s all right with you.”

  “Oh, sure. I mean, I don’t know if it works, but go ahead.” I cleaned up the rest of the dishes and put all the trash in one bag to carry out when I left.

  He fiddled with the satellite box for the television and then settled in on the couch to watch Charlie Gibson run down the list of things that were wrong with the world.

  Nervous, I wasn’t sure where to sit and I landed on the opposite end of the couch. I tried to focus but my mind wandered over the day. It seemed surreal to be sitting in this room with a handsome man, watching the news.

  I hadn’t met that many writers before and I wanted to ask Caleb more about his job. I wondered why he didn’t talk about it. If I hadn’t asked, I didn’t think he would have ever told me what he did. My cell phone rang and I jumped up to get it.

  “Hello?”

  “Kira, where are you?” It was my mom. I moved back toward the bedroom so I wouldn’t disturb Caleb. I didn’t feel like explaining about the library. “I’m having dinner with a friend.”

  “Oh.” She paused. “Well, you ran out after the service rather quickly and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Any idea when you might be home?”

  “No. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll see you guys later.” I sounded snappy, but I didn’t mean to. I’d been out on my own for years and it was weird for my mom to check up on me.

  “I didn’t mean to make you angry, dear.” Mom’s tone was patronizing and I knew I’d hurt her feelings.

  I sighed. “Mom, it’s been a long day. I’m sorry if I sound curt, but I’m fine, really. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I hung up. I know it was rude, but I didn’t feel like playing twenty questions with her.

  Peeking around the curvy glass wall, I took in the bedroom. There was a full-sized, cherry wood sleigh bed and a dresser that matched. A beautiful ring quilt spread across the bed. The baby powder and cinnamon tea smell was strong here.

  There was so much I didn’t know about Mrs. Canard. She obviously had wonderful taste when it came to antiques. And she had a sense of humor. There were whimsical touches throughout the loft, a painting of fairies here or a modern sculpture of the goddess Hera there. Odd little pieces that all seemed to fit together in this eclectic space.

  “Are you okay?” Caleb was right behind me.

  I jerked back into the wall of his hard chest.

  He steadied me with his hands. “I bet I’ve asked you that thirty times today.”

  “Twenty-seven.” I laughed. “I keep finding things here”—I pointed to the painting of the fairies over the bed—“that surprise me.”

  Turning me in his arms to face him, he held me there for a moment. I thought he might kiss me, and then he pulled me tight and held me. A hug so wonderful and giving, and exactly what I needed in that moment. Everywhere his body touched mine, I warmed instantly, and I wrapped my arms around him. We stood there for a full minute, not moving. Then he kissed the top of my head.

  “I don’t know what it is about you, but I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I met you,” he said against my hair.

  “You should have done it sooner.” I backed out of his arms and my hand flew to my mouth.

  He laughed.

  My cheeks burned. “I have no idea where that came from.”

  He grabbed my hand as I passed by. Then he pulled me to him again, and this time his mouth captured mine. I couldn’t think, only feel. His lips were soft and his tongue pushed through my teeth, gently exploring. My arms curved around his neck and I held on, my body thrumming.

  Now he was the one to back away, but he held my hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to do that again since Thanksgiving.” He laughed. “Maybe I should go. You’ve been through a lot today and I seem to be having a difficult time keeping my hands off of you.”

  He let go, and I wanted to say, “Stop! Come back and make love to me, you walking Adonis.” But my common sense kicked in as the hormones fled.

  Instead I picked up the bag of trash and said, “I’ll follow you out.” As I locked up the library for the second time that day I heard someone say, “Is she crazy?”

  Yes. I am.

  Caleb led me to my car. He started to walk away and paused. “I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow night.”

  I stared at him blankly.

  “For our date?”

  I nodded, like of course I knew what he was talking about.

  “Will you be here or out at your parents’?”

  I thought about trying to explain Caleb to my mom and dad.

  “Um, meet me here. Bye.” I waved and he did the same.

  I heard giggling in my backseat. I didn’t bother to turn around. Once I was on the main highway, I glanced in the rearview mirror.

  “I don’t know who you are, b
ut I’m not ready to deal with you. So can it.”

  Someone snickered.

  “I’m not joking. Leave me alone,” I growled. Silence followed.

  I don’t know when my life took a turn toward crazy, but I wanted it back on track.

  * * *

  Pros and Cons of Dating Caleb

  PROS

  He’s gorgeous

  He’s sweet

  He’s smart

  He thinks I’m pretty

  He makes me feel very warm inside

  CONS

  The last thing I need is a man in my life

  He lives a thousand miles away

  He’s mysterious

  He’s hiding something

  He’s a man, and I can’t trust him

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  Nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose.

  FRANKENSTEIN

  By Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, 1791–1851

  all #: F-SHE

  Description: 238 p.: ill; 21cm

  The next morning I woke with a case of severe determination. I’m not the kind of woman who is wishy-washy about any part of my life. Most people at work, and even my friends, describe me as the calm, intelligent, confident one. I’d been none of those things for weeks.

  Part of it was the illness, and I’m certain much of it had to do with the rather emotional events I’d experienced. If I was going to move forward with my life and decide what was going to come next, I had to let go of all of that.

  I’m also known for having great instincts, and it was time for me to apply that talent to my life.

  The first order of business was to get to the library. Loopholes existed in every contract. Though I’d been through the will a half dozen times, I knew there would be some kind of answers either at Mrs. Canard’s loft or in the library. I just had to find them.

  I threw on a pair of True Religion jeans and my favorite black cashmere sweater to wear with my boots. I also grabbed a pair of slacks and a jacket for later. I didn’t know how casual my date with Caleb would be. I assumed we’d probably go to Lulu’s, in which case the jeans would work fine. If he had something fancier in mind, I could make a quick change into the suit.

  My parents were near the entry and I felt like I had to give them some kind of explanation as to where I was going. I told them about the will and that I wasn’t sure what to do. They took it in their usual laid-back fashion.

  “I can’t believe she thought I’d drop everything to become a librarian,” I said at the end of my long diatribe.

  My parents looked at one another and then at me. “She obviously saw something special in you, Kira,” Mom said. “Something that made her think you would be an excellent person for the job.”

  “Your mother is right. We are behind you and believe in you. You’ll make the right decision.” My dad patted my head. “You always do.”

  Mom handed me a parka. “The weather’s too cold for that wool coat of yours. Wear this.” It was puffy and white, but I put it on anyway. I was grateful for it once I stepped outside.

  “Be careful, and don’t stress yourself too much,” Mom added. “When the time is right, you’ll know what to do.” Holding on to both of my arms, she leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “There are times when we must think with more than our heads. Be open and perhaps the answers will come to you.” She shut the door.

  I loved that they had this unfailing belief in me. I wished I felt the same way.

  After a quick stop for coffee and an egg sandwich from Lulu’s, I made my way to the library. The wind, which was coming out of the north with a mighty blast, made it difficult for me to shut the door. I locked it and flipped on the lights.

  “She’s back.” I saw something out of the corner of my eye by the computer. It was more of a shadow than anything.

  “Yes, I’m back and I need to do some work. So leave me alone,” I said to no one in particular. All I heard in reply was the hum of the fluorescents and the sound of the heat as it kicked on.

  After reading Mrs. Canard’s letter, I knew the voices were probably real, but that didn’t necessarily mean I was ready to accept that fact.

  Depositing my bag under the large front desk, I looked for the switches for the computer and monitor. The machine came to life and I clicked her desktop icon to view her files.

  Before I could open a document titled “The Librarian’s Duties,” there was a knock on the door. I tried to ignore it.

  Then I heard a young girl’s voice, actually several young girls’ voices. “Hello? Please, is anyone in there?”

  I grabbed the key and unlocked the door. Four young girls, who looked like high school freshmen, stood on the steps.

  “Oh, yay,” the small brunette in front said. She was wearing a thick jacket and pink stocking cap, her hands wrapped in matching gloves. The girls behind her hopped from foot to foot, trying to stay warm.

  “Can I help you?”

  They all nodded.

  “Are you the new librarian?” the one in front asked.

  “Not exactly.”

  Their faces fell.

  “Crap,” the girl’s hand flew to her mouth. “Sorry. It’s just—we have a report due on Monday, and with what happened with Mrs. Canard and the library being closed, we couldn’t get the books for our research.”

  “Oh. Don’t they have the books at your school library?” I knew I should be more helpful, but I was busy with my own research.

  The girls snorted. Then I remembered our high school library. It was the size of three telephone booths stuck together. I knew they had expanded it a few years ago, but it wouldn’t have as much research material as what was inside this building.

  I pursed my lips. “Why don’t you come on in, and we’ll see what we can do.”

  The girl reached out and touched my arm with her gloved hand. “Thank you,” she said dramatically. “You’ve totally saved us.”

  After ushering them in, it seemed weird to lock the big wooden door with the kids there, so I left it unlocked.

  “What’s your paper about?”

  “We’re studying King Lear. I mean, like how crazy was that guy?” A petite redhead took off her hat, and her bouncy curls fell around her shoulders. “Anyway, Mrs. Canard promised to get us some”—she turned to the tallest of the four girls—“what kind of books were they, Tanny?”

  “Literary criticism,” the girl answered softly.

  “Right,” the redhead continued. “So we have to do our own criticism and then compare it to some of the books written by others.”

  Now this kind of research I could handle. “Did you try the Internet?” I moved to stand behind the computer.

  “Yeah, but we’re only allowed to use it for one source, and we have to have five,” groaned the girl who had spoken for the group outside.

  I wondered if they had Mrs. Chapin for English. She was a tough one, but also a great teacher. Her lessons made you think and you had to study to get a passing grade in her class. Getting an A had taken up any extra time I might have had back then.

  I clicked on the electronic catalog to bring up the books. “Looks like you guys are in luck.” I pointed them in the right direction. When I looked back down, I saw a notice flashing. It was sticky note on the electronic calendar. “King Lear, Box A-12.”

  I drummed my fingers beside the keyboard. Everything in the library was organized by rows labeled according to the Dewey decimal system and none of them were marked A-12. I wondered if maybe the note meant some of the boxes in the back room.

  “I’m going to check something, I’ll be right back,” I told the girls. Unlocking the storage room door, I clicked on the lights. Each set of boxes had a letter and a number, and then double letters like AA, BB, CC. Hmmmm.

  I went to the boxes under A and looked for one marked with the number twelve. It didn’t take long. It was the second box in the stack. I moved off the top one, which was heavy with books, and opene
d the second one. There on the top was a sticky note that read, “For Tanny and her classmates.” Three books had been tied up in a string. As I picked them up to take them up front, I saw another sticky note: “Maggie Charns’s cookbook request.” Under that was another stack tied in string for someone named “Bronwyn.” Those were for Caleb’s friend, and the bundle held books about magic.

  I closed up the box and put the other one back on top of it. Mrs. Canard must have had the books on order and been waiting for library patrons to come in.

  “Hello?” I heard one of the girls nearing the break room.

  “I’ll be right there.” I flipped off the lights, vowing to check the rest of the boxes later on.

  I helped the girls for more than two hours, researching King Lear and his daughters. I love research. It’s one of the things I adore most about law. You dig and find case studies to support your cause, and really it’s the same thing with freshman pre-AP English. By the time the girls left at two, they had a solid thesis and more than enough material to begin backing it up.

  My stomach grumbled, and I needed a quick snack. I put on the big fluffy coat and grabbed the stocking cap my mom had stuffed in the pocket. The lunch crowd was gone at Lulu’s, and Ms. Johnnie had retired to the back room to take her afternoon nap.

  Ms. Helen greeted me with a hug. “I saw you this mornin’, but things were a-crackin’ and I didn’t have a chance to say hello.”

  I squeezed her back. “It’s good to see you. I’m starving. Do you have any leftovers from lunch? Something light, I have a d—” I paused. I hadn’t meant to blab about the date.

  “Oh, I know all about your date. That young man was in here trying to find out something about you. Nosy fella, but a handsome devil. Asked about some of your favorite foods and wanted to see what we had planned tonight. I told him a couple of things, but said he needed to ask you the rest.”