“That would be me,” Teddy said. “My parents collected from local potters. We’re having it shipped up here for the art walk. Why does the woman in these paintings look vaguely familiar?”
Lance looked pleased at her recognition. “That’s Valerie, when she was much younger. Her voice was even better than her looks. We should have musical evenings so she might let us hear it again.”
“Valdis of the black veils,” Kurt said in an undertone. “These had to be painted thirty years ago.”
Which reminded Teddy of why they were here. “Do you know if there was ever an art shop in town? One with a mural on the walls?”
Lance waved a dismissive hand. “Back in the 80s, the commune tried to operate one for a while. Mostly, we just came in and painted the walls while we got high. It started with a psychedelic rainbow with a VW van traveling over it—not very original. Then Lars added his own face driving the van, so his wife added hers in the passenger seat.”
“Lars?” Teddy asked, immediately interested in an L name.
“Ingersson, Sam’s grandfather. He owned the farm and the commune. That was before Geoff started buying up the town. Whoever owned the building didn’t object when we all started drawing ourselves on the rainbow. We added unicorns and dragons and hell if I remember what all. If you want to call that a mural, then sure, it’s behind the ice cream counter. When the family corporation bought the building, it got painted over in mint green. The crappy painter used acrylic over the oils.”
Mia had known about a mural and an art shop that hadn’t been in existence since before she was born! Her niece really was speaking to a presence. Teddy didn’t know if she should be excited or terrified.
She kept Lance talking while she pondered that knowledge. “Even I know better than to paint acrylic over oil. Guess the ice cream parlor covered up the peeling mess with their big chalkboard. Do you think the acrylic can be removed without harming the oil?”
Lance polished a pair of reading glasses and studied her. “Why would you want to see that old thing? There wasn’t a speck of artistry to it. Graffiti would be a polite name for it.”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. Well, it was now or never—Kurt either believed or he didn’t. “My resident ghost said there was a mural in the art store. I guess I wanted to know if my niece was making up stories in her head or if the ghost really was talking through her.”
Both men stared.
Oh well, now they thought she was just plain crazy, like all the other Lucys.
Teddy glared defiantly at Kurt. “You’ve seen Mia talking to Thalia. Call us liars and you’ll never see my naked ass again.”
Twenty-two
June 30: evening
* * *
Lance laughed.
Totally caught off-guard by Teddy’s defiant declaration, and his uncle’s unusual display of humor, Kurt couldn’t help flashing a grin too. So, she amused him, go figure.
“What happens if I call you gullible?” He stood up, caught her arm, and led her toward the door. He called back to his uncle, “I’ll have maintenance take a look at the old church, although let’s call it a meeting house. I’d rather not have any religious group haunting us along with the ghosts.”
Lance saluted and returned to his work and his usual taciturn self. Still, hearing his uncle cogent and erudite as he’d once been improved Kurt’s mood.
“I am the furthest thing from gullible as you can imagine,” Teddy informed him as they stepped into the chilly night air. “I’ve already considered that someone has been feeding Mia information that she’s simply repeating, but that’s even more far-fetched than ghosts. I can feel our resident ghost and see and hear her tantrums. That house is not wired for special effects—you’ve seen it yourself. You’re the one who is naïve for not believing there are more things in heaven and earth, than dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.”
“You don’t know Mariah well, do you?” he asked drily, steering her toward his cottage, refusing to acknowledge her statement about feeling ghosts. “Or Cass.”
She shrugged. “They have no reason to manipulate a six-year old. You are supposed to be taking me home, not back to your place. The lawyers call that fraternizing with the enemy. I refuse to let you steal my house from me. That’s worse than Ray stealing my gems!”
“I am not stealing your house,” he said. “Your family abandoned it for ten years and my family has been paying the expense of upkeep. It’s a legal issue the lawyers will settle. Quit comparing me to an outright thief.”
He should be outraged, but he understood Teddy in ways that he didn’t understand many others. They had both been burned and were fighting physical attraction. Maybe a little of the conflict had to do with pixie dust and what had brought them together, but he wouldn’t let Lucy talk deny him the best sex he’d ever had.
She dropped his arm to drag her hand through her hair. “Anyway, we have absolutely nothing in common. I just don’t have space in my head for compartmentalizing sex right now.”
He grimaced at her bluntness. “Why do women do that? Why can’t sex just be pleasurable? Why does it have to come with attachments?”
“Because we’re not all animals,” she said in scorn, glaring at him in the moonlight. “And I’m no longer a bored teen. Just because it’s possible to have sex without children these days, doesn’t mean women aren’t still wired for relationships. I can’t turn off that part of who I am. So I’ll be the grown-up here and walk home if that’s all you have on your mind.” She started walking toward the parking lot.
She left a cold spot where she had been. He was tired of being cold—and alone. And apparently the only way of gaining her company was to give her a piece of him. Kurt wanted to resist, but it had been a really long day. He had denied himself the beer, but he couldn’t deny himself the comfort Teddy offered, in any form she preferred. It didn’t even have to be sex, he had to admit.
“That’s not all I have in mind,” he called after her. “I really did want to show you something.”
He really hadn’t, not until this minute. But now that he’d said it, he figured it had come from his subconscious. He wanted her to know who he was.
She made him vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been since childhood.
She turned and eyed him skeptically. “What?”
Impatiently, he jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’m not announcing it to the world. Either trust me or not.” And there he went, building walls and undermining himself again.
In the dim outside light, he could see her do that weird thing where her eyes turned gold, and she kind of drifted inside herself. She hesitated, then returned to the moment with a nod. “I don’t have reason to trust men,” she said. “But in the interest of open communication, I’ll try.”
He didn’t dare question why she’d changed her mind. It felt too much like defeating his purpose, which was to keep her with him for as long as he could.
They didn’t touch as they strode up the mulch path to his place. As much as he wanted Teddy in his bed, he also wanted—needed—her to understand where he was coming from. No one else really did, except in a money-making sort of way.
He flipped the overhead light switch as they entered. He’d had bright LEDs installed a few years back so he could use the front room as his office and studio. He certainly never entertained there. He shoved back the portable divider to open it up.
“I didn’t see any of this last night.” Teddy studied the lay-out with interest. “You literally kept me in the dark.”
He shrugged. “I don’t share much.”
She snorted at his understatement and wandered over to his old-fashioned drafting desk. He’d rescued it from his uncle’s office before the contents had been auctioned off. Kurt waited as she studied the large-scale drawing pinned to it.
“This is how you envision Hillvale?” she asked, concealing her opinion behind neutrality as he usually did.
He stood behind her to observe his work as she was seeing it. “I added
Sam’s flowers and the mosaic planters recently. They’re nice touches. If everyone wants to promote the artwork theme, I could add outdoor sculptures. But it’s the architectural effect that I want to see carried out.”
She traced the outline of the building that would stand where her home did. “Three stories and balconies? How come it doesn’t have stucco like these others?”
“I was trying to keep the different architectural styles already established. I know it’s not historically accurate. That would be impossible if we want wiring and windows. But the town is a mash-up of timber, stone, adobe, and brick. I wanted to reflect that. Your house is currently wood siding, but wood is prone to rot and termites and has to be stained every few years. I’d use synthetic material that insulates and is far more durable but looks just as good.”
He wished he could see her expression, but he was trying not to push. He wanted her to understand.
“It’s a creative dream,” she said thoughtfully. “This is a beautiful fantasy town, like building castles in the air. Real towns don’t look like this. They only dream of looking like this.”
“Planned communities look like this,” he insisted.
“Planned communities are not real towns,” she argued, but with more curiosity than anger as she continued to examine his dream. “They’re profit centers. That could be where our disagreement lies. I like flaws and character and real life. This. . .” She gestured at his drawing. “This is the product of a man who likes control of his environment. But real towns and real people are messy.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. Of course he wanted control of his environment! Who wouldn’t? Wasn’t that the whole point of owning a town?
“You’ve created an idyllic retreat for the rich without any thought to the personalities who live and work here, just like the lodge. I admire your imagination, but it won’t suit me or Cass or Aaron or Dinah. . .” Before he could follow the ramifications of her argument, Teddy swung around, stood on her toes, and kissed him. “You need to lighten up,” she whispered against his lips. “Lose a little of that control.”
He knew how to respond to that well enough. And yeah, maybe he lost a little control as he grabbed her ass and yanked her up against him until her kiss seared his mouth and boiled his blood.
“Does this mean you trust me?” he asked when they came up for air.
“Too much negativity around here to say for certain,” she muttered back, running her kisses down his neck. “But I want to trust that you’ll see your dreams aren’t necessarily what’s best for all.”
Dismissing the negativity remark, he pulled her up against him again and returned the kiss, using his body to ask what his mouth didn’t. She responded positively.
Just as Kurt lifted Teddy to carry her to the bedroom, his front door crashed open.
Totally sucked into the haze of heat Kurt generated, Teddy clung to his neck and kiss a moment longer than she should have.
“Kurtis Dominic Kennedy!” an outraged female voice shrieked. “What are you doing with that tart?”
Shrieking drama queens meant a little more than crashing doors, but not enough to take them seriously. Teddy reluctantly pulled back a little to stare over Kurt’s shoulder at the virago letting in the chilly night air. Too old to be an outraged lover, she concluded, before Kurt muttered, “My mother.”
He carefully set Teddy down. She felt the chill of his departure and hugged his lingering warmth to herself as he blocked her view of his mother and vice versa with his broad build. “I had a lock installed on that door for a reason, Mother.”
“And maintenance keeps copies of the key for a reason,” she mocked in the same tone. “I saw the lights and assumed you were working. I just wanted to let you know I was home.”
Between Kurt’s icy withdrawal and the announcement that this shrieking shrew was his mother, Teddy was wary enough to open her Monitor. Negativity blasted icily through the room. In this case, she’d almost believe in evil. This was how Thalia had felt when she’d knocked Kurt down—only worse, because this was a living, breathing, thinking ball of fury, hate, and anxiety.
Teddy stepped from behind Kurt to contradict the outright lie she sensed in his mother’s volatile emotions. “No, you did not. You interfered on purpose, just to see what Kurt was doing.”
She studied the tall, wide-shouldered female version of Lance. Kurt’s mother looked considerably healthier than her brother, almost ruddy-faced in anger under that full head of coiffed blond hair. “You were furious before you even stole the key to unlock the door. Did someone report Kurt was with me? Or did you just want to see why he isn’t at the lodge? Now I understand why your son needs to control his environment.”
“Teddy,” Kurt said warningly, before resorting to etiquette. “This is my mother, Carmel Kennedy.”
Before he could finish the introduction, Carmel shrieked like a peacock. “Where did you find this creature? She can’t possibly be one of our guests! Are you consorting with Cass’s minions now?” she asked in tones of horror.
“She’s not really real, is she?” Teddy asked, only in half-jest, waiting for the harpy to foam at the mouth. Her ability to sense Carmel’s distress beneath her volatility lessened the impact of this ludicrous scene.
“Don’t,” Kurt murmured. “We’ll talk later.” To his mother, he said, “This is Theodosia Baker, one of our tenants. I’ll take her home after you give me that key.” He held out his hand.
His mother glared at Teddy and defiantly flung the key behind her, into the heavy shrubbery surrounding the cottage. “This is my home, and I’ll not have it defiled by your philandering ways, Kurtis. I spoke to Kylie. She’s willing to take you back. All she needs is a little courtship. She’s the class of woman you need to help move your plans forward.”
Teddy raised her eyebrows and stayed out of that one. This was where that trust thing fell apart.
Carmel sent her a triumphant glare, as if confident she’d won this round. Teddy really wanted to smack that smirk off her face, but she and Kurt didn’t have anything remotely resembling a relationship. He’d once been engaged to Kylie—his ball to roll.
“I don’t need a woman, or Kylie’s father, to move my plans forward, Mother,” he said, tugging Teddy toward the door. “I already have my own plans in place. If you’ll remove yourself, we’ll be going. Another attack like this, and I’ll return to the city and leave you to run the resort on your own.”
That staggered the woman enough that they could push past without any more shrieks. Even though she’d shut down her extra sense to avoid the collision of her usual pain and confusion with Carmel’s hungry need, Teddy still felt the lie in Kurt’s retort as well as Carmel’s disorientation. There was too much going on to sort it all out.
Carmel Kennedy had to be the emotional vampire the Lucys had declared her. The consequences of living with that kind of psychic drainage—wow. She wasn’t much of a deep thinker, but even she could grasp some of the parameters.
“I’ve heard of people like that, but never met one,” she muttered in awe.
Without comment, Kurt hauled her down the lane to the parking lot. Teddy hurried to keep up with him. Thank heavens she wore boots and not real heels.
“Well, now I understand why you keep everything bottled up,” she said brashly as he flung open the door of his Mercedes. “That was practically Shakespearian.”
“She studied drama,” he said drily, before closing the door after her.
“With Valdis?” she asked when he climbed in the other side.
“They hate each other’s guts, so probably.” He turned the ignition and roared the motor.
Teddy pondered that for all of half a second. “Lance has been painting Valdis for thirty years. He’s about to throw Val in her face, isn’t he? Lance said he used to visit the commune, and if I’m understanding the history here, Val’s parents owned the commune that your father bankrupted. Romeo and Juliet?”
Kurt remained silent as they
cruised down the resort road toward town. Not until they hit the parking lot did he answer. “I never thought about the romantic relationships involved, but you could very well be right. We’ll have to send Mother back to the city before Lance hangs those pieces, or she’ll have another breakdown.”
What kind of man protected a virago from herself? One who knew how to love despite all reason. Teddy couldn’t decide if that was deeply impressive or deeply insane, but it softened her belief that Kurt was just another stiff suit.
“And here I thought I was settling in where Syd would be safe, and I could work in tranquility. Instead, Hillvale is just one giant soap opera. Who needs TV?” When Kurt turned off the car in town, she climbed out without his aid and glanced automatically to her own home. The shop was still lit.
“If you mention negativity and emotional vampires, I’ll let you walk yourself home,” he said, unamused.
“You know, I might have a crystal to help.” She walked down the boardwalk a little faster than she’d planned. Kurt’s soap opera would have to wait. Why would Syd still be in the shop at this hour? “I buy crystals because they call to me, even though I don’t know why until I recognize a need. Would you like a ring?”
“Through my mother’s nose?” he asked, still without humor.
“Well, if you could persuade her to wear it all the time, I could come up with a pendant for your mother that might neutralize her to some extent. I’ve never really tested my abilities, though. I don’t know what I can do. That’s why I’m here—to find out.” She stopped outside her door and peered through the glass.
Syd was pacing up and down, the wireless landline in her hand, although she didn’t seem to be speaking into it.
“Let’s talk about this in the morning,” Kurt said, rubbing his hand through his hair. “I’m just not in the mood to be polite tonight. What is your sister doing?”
“That’s what I’m wondering. Come in a second, will you? Syd has problems, and she needs to understand that the whole world isn’t out to get her.”
Topaz Dreams Page 20
