Although you could hear the music from where they were, the sound was muted and the crowds were smaller. There were still a few people who, like Thea and Greg, were exploring the grounds of Patton Springs Resort and Spa. Hot tubs full of the famous mineral water were scattered in various open-air shelters along the river and around the main building.
Greg sniffed. “Personally, I have never seen the appeal of getting into a tub full of hot water that someone else has used.”
Thea bit her lip for the thousandth time—by now it should have had a hole in it—as they headed back to the festival grounds.
“This area has a lot of interesting history, mainly because of the hot springs,” Thea explained. “They were discovered during the Revolutionary War and the road through town was heavily traveled.”
Greg looked surprised. “That long ago? Why would they come through here?”
“It was the major route for driving livestock south and the town sat on what was basically the superhighway heading south from the east coast at the time. Then there are the hot springs, which a lot of people believe have healing properties. There has been a hotel of one kind of another on these grounds ever since. In the nineteenth century, it was a very fashionable resort to visit, well known around the world.”
“Fashionable?”
It really wasn’t a good thing to let her frustration build up like this; she might hurt him. The thought did give her some satisfaction, though.
“Very. It was the place for the social elite of the South to come in the summer. They had golf, bowling, tennis, horseback riding and a ballroom with an orchestra playing every night.”
Greg looked at the modest building that stood on the grounds now. “Really?”
“Yes. It burned down three…no, four times, I think, and was always rebuilt. During World War I it served as a kind of internment camp for Germans who were stranded here when German luxury liners and merchant ships were seized,” Thea finished. “That story is amazing in itself. The place has a fascinating history.”
“Why is the town so small now?”
“The interstate highway system eliminated the traffic that used to come through this part of the mountains. But those of us who live here like the size of the town as it is and so do the tourists. It’s a relaxing place to visit. You can enjoy the hot springs and the spa, or go white water rafting, or take plant walks and learn about the ecosystem of the mountains. The Appalachian Trail goes right down Patton Street. And there are all the shops, the antiques and, of course, the music.”
“You sound like a PR rep for this place, yet you stayed away for a very long time,” Greg retorted.
Thea frowned. She needed to get rid of this guy. She wouldn’t let her family or friends to poke at her like this and she didn’t have to put up with Greg doing it.
“I love this place,” she said. “And, as I said before, every day that I had to spend in Philadelphia was torture.”
Greg stopped before they reached the row of vendor tents and turned to her. “I still have trouble believing you. Are you really going to leave corporate law?”
“Yes,” she said.
“There are people who would hand over their firstborn for a position like the one you fell into at Hartford.”
“Fell into?” I dropped out of Curtis. Gave up my music for pre-law. Suffered through law school. Missed the last few years I could have had with my Pops. “You know, when you put it like that, it does sound totally crazy.” She started down the row of tents toward town.
He hurried to catch up with her. “I didn’t say it was crazy,” he huffed.
“You didn’t?” Messing with him was fun, but she really needed to come clean and get Greg to head home. This was ridiculous.
“No, but you have a lot of talent. It seems a shame to toss it away on…on whatever it is that you think you’re…” He trailed off, a lawyer without a brief.
“Thea!” someone yelled from a booth. “Al, it’s Thea Woodruff.”
She turned to see Marty Croate waving her over to the Dreaming in Clay booth. She was happy to oblige.
“I have to thank you for that performance you put on this afternoon,” Marty said. “We nearly sold out of ocarinas.”
A man with black hair braided back into a long tail came from the rear of the booth to join her. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Al Croate.” Al was probably short for something in Cherokee.
“This is Greg Whitehead, a business colleague of mine,” she explained as they took turns shaking hands.
“We had tons of kids dragging their parents over here to buy one of our ocarinas so they could learn to play like ‘that pretty red-haired lady’,” Al said.
Thea grinned. “I think that’s about the best compliment anyone could give me. Thank you!”
“It was amazing. The festival has an impact on so many kids. You wouldn’t believe how many get interested in learning an instrument after listening to the bands. But seeing you two perform with such passion—that really made them think,” Al said. “They connect the dots and see that music is magic.”
Thea smiled. “Perhaps a few of them will stick with it when they find out about the practice part of the magic.”
Al smiled and nodded. “I can understand why people were flocking to buy those polished wood and chrome beauties of Jake’s. They’re as much art as they are musical.”
“From what I heard, he sold almost everything he had today,” Marty said.
“That’s great.” At least Jake’s business had gotten off to a good start.
“I told him he needed a booth out here, but I guess he didn’t,” Al said.
“How’s Emmy doing today?” Thea asked.
Marty’s smiled faded. “About the same. Aaron does something to set her off and that makes her symptoms worse and it just cycles.”
“I plan to sit down with Grace and work out something for her. Try to hang in there,” Thea said.
“Something that doesn’t involve any more of the poison that caused all this, I hope,” Al said, fire in his eyes.
“No more prescriptions. Strictly herbal. I promise.”
Al nodded solemnly and hugged his wife as Thea walked away from the booth.
“What was all that about?” Greg asked.
Thea sighed. “Their daughter has tardive dyskinesia as the result of taking antipsychotics. I’m trying to help them out with an alternative treatment.”
He was silent for a long moment. “Why did you really go to work for Hartford, Althea?”
“I told you. I needed a job. And as you so kindly pointed out, nepotism opens doors,” she said. “And that big bonus check there at the end didn’t hurt.”
His voice took on an unusual edge. “I’m curious. You never really supported anything Hartford, or your father, stood for, did you? You seem to be all about alternative medicine—that herbal stuff your sister produces.”
Thea tensed, but she knew he was fishing. He was hurt and he was trying to understand why. She turned to face him. “What are you insinuating, Greg?”
He took a step back, looking around at the crowd. No one was paying the slightest bit of attention to them. “Nothing, really. It’s just… You seem so different here.”
Greg had never known the real Thea. And, to be honest, she hadn’t made it easy for him to. “I told you. I keep my business and personal life separate—”
“But we were dating. That’s as personal as it gets.”
“We were not dating, Greg. I made that pretty clear in Philly. I’m sorry if you somehow got the wrong impression.”
He made a tentative movement, as if to take her by the shoulders, but she started walking back down Patton Street in the direction of the parking lot. He trotted after her.
“What do you think will happen to the settlement—to all those pending civil lawsuits—if they find out an attorney on the case was compromised?”
“Compromised?” She spun around. “Where on earth did you get that idea?”
Greg shrank back. “All this seems very important to you—your grandfather, the family business, this mountain of yours. Your father walked away from all of it. He turned his back on your grandfather, on the business.”
Greg’s obsession with her father frankly bordered on the creepy. Thea laughed and shook her head. “Seriously? You think I would risk that big bonus, my license, my reputation, on some kind of sentimental revenge? You really don’t know me at all. Business is business.” She continued down the sidewalk toward Patton Street. Maybe Greg knew her better than she thought, but he was still guessing.
“Your father was certainly pursuing his own vendetta against the herbal industry. I figured—”
“Maybe the business as a whole, what with that anti-supplement legislation that he’s been lobbying so hard for. But a personal vendetta against the family?” She shook her head. She wouldn’t put it past him, but she had never found any evidence of it.
“Actually, he had this project underway to analyze the herbs your company sells,” Greg said in a lowered voice. “It was supposed to be a secret, but I have a friend who was involved.”
Thea gazed into the store windows they were passing. She took a steadying breath at that revelation. “I never heard about it.” Why would her father be studying Grace’s remedies? What was he looking for?
“And oddly enough, in the middle of everything that is going on, your father shut it down on Monday,” Greg went on.
Thea nearly sighed with relief, but kept her expression blank. “Since that kind of research doesn’t make much sense anyway, I suppose it’s a good business move.” She had told him not to interfere with anything they did, but had no idea he had been analyzing the herbs from Woodruff Farm.
Analyzing the herbal remedies that Grace produced. The thought stopped her in her tracks. She was standing in front of a rack of T-shirts on display on the sidewalk.
Grace had the ability to heal. Did she change the herbs with that gift in some way? And if she did, would it show up in lab tests? What would it show?
“He’s doing a lot of other things that don’t appear to the board to be good business moves,” Greg went on. “Such as dropping his support of the anti-supplement bill and his opposition to that orphan drug legislation.”
It was hard not to show her delight at that news. Her dad was following her instructions to the letter. “I guess the DoJ finally got his attention.”
“It also seems completely out of character,” Greg said.
“My father never really had any character to speak of,” she said. “He is all about the business, the bottom line and the profit margin. I’m sure all of this fits somewhere in there. Nick said the stock price was soaring.”
“Yes, but it’s such a significant change in direction. That worries people.”
She spotted a T-shirt decorated with a huge red treble clef and the words “Here Comes Treble” splashed across it. Trouble had certainly followed her to the mountain. Now she needed to get rid of Greg so she could talk to Grace about all this.
“And I should care about this why exactly?” She turned to face him, hands on hips. “I don’t know why you followed me down here. I don’t know what you expect from me. I’m not going to explain anything else to you. I did what I did for my own reasons. It’s over. I’m going on with my life and you need to go on with yours.”
“And where exactly are you going, Althea? You said you weren’t staying here, even though you seem to have some kind of relationship with that Jake fellow—”
“My future plans are my future plans,” Thea replied. “I’ve got some business to finish here, but then I’ll be on my way. And I think you need to be on your way back to Philadelphia.”
“But…but I care about you,” Greg blurted out, his face reddening as he glanced around to see if anyone was listening. “When I found out you had quit, I was… I had to check on you. See how you were. I was worried.”
She walked around the T-shirt rack to the corner and turned to confront him. “I wish you had checked on my welfare some other way, instead of traveling down here. I do have email and a LinkedIn account you know.” She gestured to herself with a smile. “But as you can see, I’m doing fine. I appreciate your concern.”
He searched her face. “You really don’t care about me, do you?”
Where was a cast iron frying pan when she really needed it? “I enjoyed working with you, Greg. But I never gave you the impression that it was anything more than a business relationship,” she said solemnly. “I regret that you thought it was more than that.”
“You regret,” he said with the oddest laugh, like she’d tripped over an awkward joke. “I’m the one that got fired because of you. Because, no matter what you regret, your father thought there was something between us.”
“That’s impossible.” She remembered exactly what she had said to her father. She had been very specific about him not retaliating against her friends or colleagues for her departure.
It was Greg’s turn to look dumbfounded. “Your father doesn’t share your belief that business and personal lives are so separate. He thought we all knew you planned to leave and no one informed him.”
“We? Who else did he target?” she said. If he went after Greg, he could come after all of them. Damn unreliable gift.
Greg threw up his hands. “I don’t know! I wasn’t given a list. Only an order to clear out my desk.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?” What if he came after the mountain again? She needed to warn Grace and Nick.
“I-I didn’t want to spoil things for you, with your family and all. I’m just trying to work out my future plans,” Greg said. “I was naïve enough to think you were a part of them.”
“I guess I was,” she said. “The big fat wrench right in the middle of them.”
“I’m glad this amuses you, Althea. I don’t find it amusing at all.”
She shook her head. “I don’t either, really. There’s no logic to it. I’m stunned that he did that.”
And she was terrified that he would do more. They needed a family conference, but she didn’t want to bring any of this up with Grace while Greg was still around. And she had no idea when Daniel and Mel would be home from their honeymoon. Greg needed to go.
“Stunned,” Greg said. “For me, that is an understatement.”
“Look, Greg, feel free to hate my guts if it makes you feel better, but you need to go back to Philly right now and get an employment attorney. Your contract—”
He raised his hands. “I understand now. You want me to leave.”
She shook her head. “No. I mean… Yes, I do. I think it would be best if you left. But what he did to you is retaliation plain and simple,” she said. “I’m surprised he would risk the unwanted attention.”
“Speaking of unwanted attention, it seems like your friend Jake is getting some,” Greg said, pointing behind her.
Thea turned and looked down Patton Street. A line of cars with emergency lights flashing—city police, county sheriff’s office and a black SUV—sat in front of HeartWood.
Jake watched the emergency lights reflecting off the polished wood of his one remaining bowed psaltery. His mom had said something about seeing lights. And then all this had happened.
He hoped she had gone straight home, but he had seen Sarah lurking out in the street. He knew that the minute Charlie had let his mom go, she likely took off with Sarah and worked herself into some kind of frenzy over the whole affair.
Right when she seemed to be opening up to him instead of that charlatan.
He needed to hear the rest of that story, whatever it was. He was worried she was describing the visual symptoms of a bigger problem—a tumor on a nerve or something.
“With all your musical expertise, you couldn’t tell what kind of instrument it was?” The FBI guy, Jackson, asked the same question again in a slightly more condescending tone.
Jake clenched his teeth and glowered at Charlie. Charlie frowned back with interest. If he were wearing that badge instead of Charlie, he wouldn’t be getting grilled like a steak at a cookout.
“It was a recording of some kind of a small flute. Since I didn’t see it and it was in another room, I really don’t have any idea,” he repeated, yet again.
“And you don’t find it odd that of the four babies who have been abducted, you have been the person to find two of them?”
From his expression, Evan Meade, Patton Springs’ police chief, seemed torn between enjoying Jake’s interrogation and the seriousness of the situation.
“I find it damned odd,” Jake replied, keeping his voice as calm as he could, despite his mounting frustration. “If I didn’t know better, I would think that someone was playing a monumental joke on me.” He held up a hand to forestall the protest, “But it isn’t funny to me or to the baby’s parents.”
“Jake—” Charlie began.
“On the other hand,” Jake cut in. “It could be that the store was the most logical place. They could see us in here and knew someone would hear the baby pretty quickly. Just like they knew that the postmistress would be back in a few minutes. Whoever is doing this takes great care to make sure the babies are safe, which brings me back to the practical joke idea.”
“We don’t think it’s funny,” Jackson said. “Do you think it’s funny, Sheriff Sloan? Chief Meade?”
Charlie also seemed delighted with Jake’s discomfort. It was like payback for all the micromanaging Jake had done to his deputy over the years. “Nope,” he said, his expression wavering.
“Not me,” Evan said.
“We’re going in circles, Agent Jackson,” Jake said. “You’ve pretty much gotten everything I know, which isn’t much. It’s a puzzle, I admit. But at least the babies are none the worse for wear. Can’t say the same for the parents.”
“Yes, well.” Jackson finally put his notebook away. “Sloan here tells me you’re leaving the department.”
Jake nodded. “Put my resignation in the mail this morning.” Charlie had won his bet, but he didn’t look happy about it.
Jackson gave Jake the FBI-once-over, the kind where they want you to think they’re getting inside your head. “It’s tough getting shot in the line. Kind of takes the wind out of your sails.”
Yes, and now he had to put up with this kind of shit. “It sure takes the wind out of something,” Jake said with a bland smile. “But I have to say, my band groupies put your badge bunnies to shame.”
Jackson frowned. Now Charlie had a pained expression on his face and Evan looked like he had indigestion. Jake suspected those two were desperately trying not to laugh.
“Yes, well. Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Moser,” Jackson said. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
Jackson left and both Charlie and Evan finally cracked up.
“You guys enjoyed that way too much,” said Jake.
“Ah, come on,” said Charlie. “After seeing you put the screws to people for so long?”
“I half expected you to turn the tables and start interrogating the Fed,” said Evan. “But we better go make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble. Take care, Jake.”
He wasn’t wrong. Jake hated the fact that he was on the other side of the blue line right now. He could be out there making a difference before the kidnapper did something more than catch-and-release.
Jake snagged Charlie’s elbow after the chief had gone out the door. “Any signs of escalation?” he asked in a low tone.
Charlie looked out the door then down at his hat. “Nah. Same MO. Babies are fine.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Charlie’s expression was sly. “Itching to get back in the middle of it all?”
He sighed. “Maybe.” It was easier to hand off the badge than the responsibility.
“Well, then, maybe you should reconsider.” Charlie said, slapping his shoulder. “Or, you know, if it’s the sheriff part you’re burnt out on, there’s always other options. I know you, Jake. You don’t like to be left out of the loop.”
The thought stopped him in his tracks. There were other options.
“Think about it anyway.” Charlie laughed. “But remember. I might get to boss you around.”
Jake followed him to the door. “Well, with luck this will be the last we’ll hear of this pied piper of yours, Sheriff.”
“Go on up to the house. I’ll get a ride.” That was Thea’s voice.
Jake’s heart lurched. He turned to see her jogging down the street, with that Greg guy trailing after her.
“Oh,” she gasped. “I was worried when I saw all those cars.” She gestured to the official vehicles. “Are you all right?” He was pleased to no end to hear how relieved she sounded.
“I’m fine. We had another one of those baby-napping incidents.”
“Seriously? Here?”
“Right in my workroom.” He leaned against the doorframe and nodded back into the store.
“Was the baby all right?” she asked. Greg finally loped up behind her.
“Fine. Her parents were down at the festival, set her down in her carrier at the back of a booth, turned their backs and poof. Gone. She showed up here about ten or fifteen minutes later.”
Thea shook her head, speechless, as the cars began to pull away.
“So everything’s fine here. You can come with me,” Greg said.
If Greg-the-clueless didn’t know he’d worn out his welcome before, he did now based on Thea’s expression.
But the guy went on, nothing if not stubborn. “We need to—”
“I could use your help with something, Thea,” Jake said. “And I can give you a lift home.” He smiled at Greg and Thea followed his example.
All that combined smiling was too much for the guy. “I suppose…” Greg looked rather put out.
“If you have trouble finding the turnoff again, give me a call and I’ll have Charlie send a deputy to escort you up,” Jake said.
“I’ll find it myself.” Greg stalked off.
Jake watched Greg disappear into the approaching dusk.
Thea relaxed visibly. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he replied, grinning. “But I really d—”
“But I really ne—” she said at the same time.
They both laughed.
“Ladies first,” he said.
Thea’s smile faded. “I really do need to talk to you. But it can wait. I should probably get back.”
“From the looks of things, your friend Greg might pack up and head back to Philly tonight. Don’t you want to wait until he’s gone?”
She smiled. “That would be ideal.”
“And I really do want your opinion on something,” he said. “Come on in.”
“Do you have any of that hard cider left?”
He grinned. “Nothing but the best here at HeartWood.”
She looked around as she entered. Her eyes widened as she took in the empty wall where all his instruments had been displayed. “You really sold everything?”
“All but one psaltery and my favorite hammered dulcimer.”
She hugged him. “Oh, that’s wonderful, Jake!”
When she seemed ready to pull away, Jake hung on for a bit longer than necessary, enjoying the warm smell of her hair and the feel of her sweet curves pressed up against him.
He let her step away. “If I sell that last psaltery, what do I get as a reward?”
“Well I don’t know,” she said, a bit breathless. “What kind of reward were you looking for?”
“Let me think about that,” he hedged. Another kiss. Or something more. “Cider?”
“Yes sir.” She smiled, but it wasn’t that sweet sly smile of hers. It was a bit more tentative.
“After all this, I was going to close up early today anyway.” He pulled the door shut and locked it, flipping the “Open” sign around to “Closed”. “And since you’ve seen the sketches, I wanted you to see the upstairs—see what you think.”
Thea made a wry face and followed him up. “You know, I never thought anyone would really invite me up to see their sketches. This comes so very close.”
He laughed, but something in her voice told him she was nervous. He opened the door at the top of the stairs.
“Oh! This is so much more open than you would expect in an older building like this.” She stepped out into the main living area.
“Yeah, Donnie opened up a couple of walls,” Jake said. “More like a loft now.”
“The fireplace and floor are gorgeous.”
“He did the flooring and that mantelpiece. Made some of the furniture as well.”
Thea ran her hand over the top of the oak pedestal table and went over to the window. “But that is far too big a view for such a tiny window. Your plans for this wall are absolutely perfect.”
The sun was setting and there was an impressive vista. The mountains stood hazy and purple in the fading light with the river barely visible glinting beyond the trees.
“I think so. The glass doors will open it up a lot more and the deck will help shade the patio downstairs,” he said.
“Ideal for a container garden and breakfast and—” she stiffened, “—whatever you plan for it.”
“No, that sounds great, although I have a black thumb when it comes to growing anything.”
“It’s purple,” she said.
He looked at his thumb thoughtfully. “Okay.”
She laughed. “If you don’t have a green thumb, you have a purple one. You kill plants.”
“I don’t exactly murder them.” He looked at one of the potted plants the dispatchers had sent him while he was in the hospital. It was yellow.
Thea walked over to examine it. “No, you love them to death. You over watered it.”
He watched her fingers intently as she stroked the leaves.
“Okay then. Cider.” He walked into the kitchen and pulled two bottles out of the refrigerator.
“No glass.” She held out her hand.
He smiled and handed her the bottle, which she opened with a twist.
“I think you’ve taught me a new bad habit, Sheriff Moser,” she said.
“Not sheriff anymore, as of this morning. Just plain old Jake.”
She studied his face. “Is this something to celebrate or are you having second thoughts?”
She always could read him pretty darn well. “Celebrate, mostly. But with the Feds here I got a full taste of just how helpless I am as a civilian. Got me thinking.”
Thea grinned. “You always did need to be in control.”
“It’s not about control. I mean… I just know how much it helps to have trained personnel available in a crunch.”
Thea nodded. “You get used to being involved. Can’t be easy giving it up.”
“Guess not. Still, Charlie reminded me that I’ve got options.”
“Like what?”
“Reserve Deputy possibly, although Charlie would enjoy bossing me around too much.” He chuckled. “It’s something to consider, but the store comes first.”
“The music comes first.” She touched her bottle to his. “To the future of Songs in the Wood.”
“Which you helped launch today.” He took a sip.
Thea sat at the table and took a long swig. “Glad to help.”
He sat next to her. “So, what’s on your mind?”
She stared at the bottle for a while. “I thought I was coming home for Daniel’s wedding and to…to say goodbye to Pops and Becca.” She shook her head. “But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t all I needed to do.”
He was right. There was something more to that haunted look in her eyes.
She worried her lower lip, took another swig of cider and lifted her chin.
“Is this a two-bottle thing, a six-pack thing, or…?”
She gave a wobbly laugh. “Oh, I do love you, Jake Moser.” Her eyes widened when she realized what she had said.
He reached out and put his hand over hers. “I know what you mean, kiddo. Right back at ya.”
Thea smiled wanly, then put her hand over his. “I’ll be content with you not hating me.”
He tensed. “What’s this about, Thea?”
“I was…I was responsible for Becca’s death.”
“Because you yelled at Mom and told her to get out of there?” He shook his head. “Come on. We talked about that a long time ago. She was drunk, Thea. She—”
“No, listen to me,” she snapped. “I have this…power. Ability. I don’t know what to call it. I can make people do things just by telling them to.”
It was as if a puzzle piece slid into place inside him. Everything he had sensed, about Grace, about Thea—all of it was true.
He could picture her now, standing in front of his mom, chin up, face pale and determined, eyes dark and stormy, voice reverberating with fear and anger…and something else.
“No! You’re the one who needs to go. Go away and don’t ever come back here! And don’t you ever say that again. Forget it, all of it, and just go away!”
And the night of the wedding—confronting his mom at the edge of the crowd, and how his mom had suddenly behaved herself.
But Thea hadn’t said anything that resulted in Becca being hurt. It was an accident.
“Thea. Mom was drunk. She was going to drive us home that night. Both of us. Becca and me. She would have driven off that embankment whether you told her to leave or not. You forced her to leave without me. You probably saved my life.”
“Did you even hear me?” Thea stood.
He stood with her. “I heard you. But you…” he stuttered to a halt.
Wait a minute. Was this what the Woodsman had meant when he’d said Thea was making amends? She had abandoned Curtis Institute of Music right after Becca died, then she’d gone to law school and taken that job with Hartford. She had stayed away from the mountain. Jake had always thought that Thea was seeking her father’s approval for some reason. But that wasn’t it at all.
“You…you were… What you did at Hartford. You did that for Becca, didn’t you? You left your music for her?”
“I what?”
“You did all that—going to work for Hartford, sneaking into town when your father’s back was turned. You did all that for Becca, didn’t you? Some kind of atonement or revenge?”
“I didn’t leave my music.”
“Dammit, Thea. She wouldn’t have wanted that. No matter what you think.”
“You are not listening to me.” She lifted a clenched fist. “I said I have this power. Like something out of a comic book or a—”
“It’s a talent, Thea,” he said. “Just another talent, like playing a flute.”
“It’s not a talent.” Her voice was strident and shrill. “You don’t understand. Let me show you—”
He took a deliberate step back.
“You see.” She pointed. “You’re afraid of me.”
Jake laughed. “Not exactly.” He watched as her hair lifted into the air. Then the flowery edge of her top floated up.
“What are you—”
“You’re not the only one with an unusual talent,” he said, bracing himself.
Thea’s feet weren’t on the floor anymore. She looked down at her toes, dangling above the shiny wood, then back up at him. Her face went paler, if that was possible.
“But this is me. This is part of it. I-I did this at the wedding and at the festival.” Doubt flickered on her face. “Didn’t I?”
“Nope.” He tweaked one of the soft fabric ties on her top with some effort and it snaked up in front of her face. “This is me.” It was surprisingly more difficult than just lifting her off the floor in his arms. It felt as if he was using several arms just to hold her in the air, much less deal with the tie. One of the oddities of his talent.