*Lauren slammed the front door to Sage Springs so hard, the remaining but now wobbly bannister shook.
She marched across the tiled hallway and up the stairs, skirting around the holes in the treads, not in the least bit concerned she’d stumble, fall, or even twist an ankle. That wasn’t her lot. It wasn’t her fate.
But it might be Mark’s—and she wasn’t referring to her great-grandfather and anything he might do to get rid of him from their lives. Right this moment she was inclined to invite him over so she could push him down the damned staircase!
She took a breath when she reached her bedroom, pulling off her scarf and throwing down her tote bag. It was useless getting riled. She needed to think this through. What the hell was he up to?
Would Marie know? Possibly—but she might not tell her niece.
Ava would certainly have a clue—but she’d talk in riddles, telling her to listen to her heart and not be tricked by words and actions.
But she was being tricked.
She fired up her laptop, plugged in the charge cord, and hit Skype.
“You look gorgeous!” Molly said two minutes later, eyeing her dress. The one she’d bought from the original owner of the Manolo Blahnik boots. The one she’d worn because she thought it might make her feel a little more feminine than usual while she allowed the saloon owner to flirt with her.
“Did Mark notice how glam you look?” Pepper asked.
“He was too busy looking after himself and his own needs. There’s something going on, and he’s at the heart of it.”
“Well of course he is! He’s your man. The one fate dictated for you.”
“Molly!” Lauren cried—then took another deep breath.
What were these dreams and visions? A pull between reality and what might be? Had she just been shown what could be but never would be? Was it some devilment from the great-grandfathers?
She looked at her cousins, waiting patiently for her to speak. They were so beautiful and she loved them to the ends of the earth and back. “Sorry for shouting. I’m at the end of my tether. I don’t know what’s going on!”
“Yeah,” Pepper said. “But what can you do? You and this sexy Mark guy are going to share your lives and bring up your children together, no matter how much you’re arguing now.”
“How can that possibly be when I currently can’t stand him?”
Pepper shrugged. “I don’t know, but you’re stuck in never-never land. I told you not to go home!”
Molly slapped a hand on the kitchen countertop in the hacienda. “Lauren—you have to keep him close and engaged. He’s going to help end the curse on you and your town.”
“But what about my suspicions? I know he’s lying. If I’m a soothsayer, I must be correct!”
“I can’t talk about what he’s really up to. No!” Molly exclaimed before Lauren had a chance to interrupt. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s that I don’t know. Alice told me to keep my nose out of it. I tried to pry into the otherworldliness that surrounds us, and she blocked me.”
“Blocked you? The grandmothers can do that?”
“I wish they’d block me,” Pepper mumbled. “Even I’ve been thinking about all this the last few days.”
Lauren brought her focus back to the primary problem. Mark. Her blood boiled all over again. “Honestly, you should have seen him at the meeting tonight. Standing there in all his glory, raising enthusiasm and passion like he meant it.”
“Passion, huh?”
“Could be he did mean it, once he got a taste of it,” Molly said.
Was it possible? Was he being shown something too? Something of value to him? “Like what?”
“Think about it. What comes to your mind first?”
“Only my pathetic attempt at flirting with him and how I failed miserably!”
“You’re just finding your courage with a man after misplacing it,” Pepper said.
Both Molly and Lauren looked at her. It wasn’t often Pepper came up with such prognostic declarations.
“What?” Pepper said. “It’s nothing more than common sense. I’m like Marie. An ordinary woman with a lot of common sense.”
“Says the woman who creates wonderful organic foodstuffs but prefers to eat junk food.”
“Hey—it’s not easy being a culinary genius! I need time off from all the healthy stuff. Just like Marie needs time out from all her hairdressing and beautification. That’s probably why she started her blog.”
Lauren caught Molly’s eye. She knew about Marie’s abilities now and so must Molly, but neither of them said anything. If this was Marie’s preferred way of handling her gift, so be it. Pepper would find out for herself when the time was right.
“Okay,” Lauren said. “What’s your take on this? My latest vision told me he’s going to leave me.” As she stood in the attic watching him drive out of town, the Lauren in the vision had felt her heart plummet to her belly, as though she’d lost something precious—and that somehow, it had been her fault.
“I hope you have sex before he goes,” Pepper said. “I’m looking forward to hearing about that part.”
“Be serious!” Molly said.
“Come on. She was always an imaginative kid. Perhaps these visions are just a kind of regression, so she can walk into her future with more stamina.”
“Perhaps I need psychotherapy.”
Pepper chuckled.
“Without stamina, I wouldn’t be here,” Lauren told her. “I’d have taken up your offer to stay in your apartment in Arizona.”
“Ah, but then you’d never have met the man of your dreams,” Molly said.
“The man of my dreams is really annoying. And how can he possibly be the man?” There was no point falling in love with a guy who was going to leave.
“Never trust a man who says he can solve your problems,” Pepper said, “unless he proves he can.”
That’s what Ava had said. How would Pepper know that?
She thought back to the Mark she’d begun to like. The man who’d teased her with a little seduction while she’d shown him around the house. The man who’d held out his hand and asked her to dance. He’d looked so handsome and earnest as he tried to ease the tension between them that her heart had gotten squished.
He was a fantastic kisser and probably knew how to hold a woman when he danced, but that wasn’t love. That was fantasizing or hoping—or portending fate.
“What if I fall in love with him?” she asked, unbelieving of the possibility—but what did she know?
“More to the point,” Molly said, “what if you don’t?”
“Uh-oh. You’ve lost me now.”
“It’s her gift,” Molly told Pepper. “It’s not fully functional yet and won’t be for a while, so we don’t know for certain exactly what’s going to happen. She’s right. She might change his life by mistake.”
Pepper rolled her eyes and picked up a tray of salsa ’n chips, ripping the top off the packaging.
“What if I do mess things up?” Lauren asked.
Perhaps there was already some Suzy Fletcher out there, waiting for him. What if he was meant for someone else and she channeled something and he changed his mind—or had his mind changed by forces she didn’t understand—and fell in love with Lauren instead? That would be terrible. It wouldn’t be real love or a real marriage. It would be entirely fake.
Pepper paused, a chip half way to her mouth. “You’re falling for him, aren’t you?” She threw the chip back into the tray. “He’s not going to stay, you’ll be heartbroken, and I’ll hate him—even though I’ve never met him. I don’t want to meet him. I hate him already—”
“Pepper—”
“Molly, stop interrupting.”
“But you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know more than you think! This curse thing—I reckon there’s some truth to it. As soon as I’m forced to come home, I’m not going to dither around like you two. I’m going to face it. I’ll know it’s there. I’ll have the advantage.”
“Wow,” Molly said, almost in a whisper. “It’s already happening for you and you’re not even home yet.”
Lauren leaned closer to her laptop screen. “You know that you’re going to be forced to come home?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Pepper said. “Just because I think there’s a possibility I might be called home for some reason doesn’t mean I’m predicting my future. I’m simply aware. I’m forewarned and forearmed, because let me tell you right now, if some man is out there and someone tells me he’s meant for me, I’m going to find him before he even sets eyes on me.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Punch him on the nose and make it bleed.”
Molly blew out a hearty laugh.
“I’m not joking. I’ve tried several men in the last few years, and I’ve come to the conclusion they don’t suit me or my intended lifestyle. I certainly won’t accept one who’s been sent. I’m going to remain unmarried and I’m going to be happy about it. The curse be damned. I’m going to beat it with its own intent.” Pepper picked up a chip and dipped it into her tray of salsa.
“That’s what I told myself,” Lauren said. “Did you, Molly?”
Molly nodded. “Yep.”
“You two,” Pepper said, shaking her head. “You’re so gullible.”
“There’s something else,” Lauren said, running a hand over her eyes. Tiredness was creeping up, or maybe it was despair. “I had the strongest sensation earlier, about Mark. I think he’s going to bring something bad down on our heads.”
“I told you!” Molly said. “You have to stick by his side, and all you keep doing is pushing him away.”
“He is suspect though,” Pepper said. “I mean, he’s got a nerve, calling his saloon Sage when everything Sage in Surrender belongs to Lauren. Why would he do that except to piss her off? If he’s the man of her dreams, why be so mean? I bet Donaldson’s is using him in some way. They’ll play you off him and vice versa, which means they’ll be playing your business off his business. That could get nasty. You’re going to have to keep on your toes, Lauren.” She paused when she noticed her cousins staring at her. “What? It’s common sense!”
“Right,” Molly said, nodding. “Common sense.”
Pepper yawned and put her salsa tray down. “Can we get some sleep now? What can possibly happen that you two soothsayers can’t control?”
*
Mark was about to head upstairs to his private rooms when the roar of a motorbike out the back halted him.
His heart palpitated. Donaldson’s men? Boomer? Had Lauren made it home safely? Damn! He should have walked her to Sage Springs whether she wanted his company or not.
Two seconds later, a wooden creak advised him he hadn’t locked the rear door to the bar.
He glanced around, but there was nothing on hand to use as a weapon.
Then a woman walked through from the kitchen. “Ought to lock your back door,” she said as she pulled off her helmet. “Never know who might walk in.”
A whippoorwill gave a lonesome cry in the distance. Then an owl called out.
“King of the night sky around here, the great horned owl,” she informed him. “You might want to listen out for the mateless mockingbird next. His cry says he’s searching. It’ll probably be a sound you recognize.”
“Can I help you?” Mark asked, his throat thick.
She pierced him with a look from dark green eyes. “Lauren tells me you’re a writer.”
“Lauren?”
“My granddaughter. Don’t tell me you haven’t worked out who I am yet.”
“You gave me a bit of a fright.” He pushed out a shaky laugh. “I was supposed to come and see you…” He’d had no intention of visiting Wild Ava and hadn’t for a second expected she’d turn up at his bar on a motorbike in the dead of night. “Would you like to sit?” he asked, pulling out a couple of chairs from a table close to the bar.
“I have a fancy to do a bit of writing myself,” she said as she sat, using her boot to spin a third chair around so the seat was facing her. She lifted her feet and rested them on the chair edge.
“Really?” he asked, taking his own seat opposite her and attempting to control his breathing now that he knew who his midnight visitor was. “What would you write about?”
“How about I write your story? How about I put you in a position where you’re under pressure? You have a family to protect, and for some reason that’s why you’ve come to our valley.”
Her eyes were olive green, and it was the all-knowing calmness in them that worried him.
“It’s the reason behind it all that I’m concerned about,” she continued. “People think you’re worthy. I know different.”
His features were stuck in a mask of incredulity and he thought perhaps even his heart had stopped beating.
“Spooked yet?” she asked, with a light in her eyes and a smile on her face.
He granted her a laugh. “Kind of.”
“You’re wondering how I know so much about you.”
But she didn’t. She couldn’t possibly.
“I can do better,” she said, and nodded at the rear side of the bar. “A mirror is like the surface of a lake. It can reflect what’s next to it, but it also holds depth. What’s behind or beneath the surface reflection—that’s what you’ve got to ask yourself.”
Okay, now he was freaked.
“What are you saying?”
“Perhaps I’m saying you’re seeing things in the mirror because you need to see them.”
A happy little girl, dancing her heart out? Why be shown that?
“Lauren was the one who told me my bar was cursed.”
Ava smiled. “She was getting your hackles up.”
“So there’s no curse in here?”
“Only if you believe it.”
It was what Lauren had said. People thought they were cursed, and eventually, if they believed it for long enough, it appeared to the rest of the world that they were. It still didn’t explain how a rational man like himself saw those images.
“And the curse on her house? Is she safe in there?”
“What did you feel when you were in the house?”
He shrugged. “A little odd at times. Like there was someone at my back.”
She nodded. “Gave you a taste of what it feels like when someone’s at your back, snooping on you.”
He straightened. Okay, that was scraping bone.
“What’s precious to you?” Ava asked.
His mom. His sisters. They all still lived at home. His older sister was a bit of a loner, even at the age of thirty-seven, and he wished she’d found someone to share her life with. The middle sister was twenty-seven and shy to the point of painfulness. If she found a man to fall in love with, the guy would have to be equally reserved, although hopefully not as timid as she was, so that together they could drive the other forward. His twenty-year-old sister was a different kettle of fish. She’d never known their father—he’d left before she was born—and she thought the world was at her feet. Their mom worried she was too openhearted to see the bad in some people. The women in Mark’s family were typical Dubois women. Shy, smart, a little sassy if pushed around by their brother, who was still and had always been the only male in their lives. But they were kind and generous. Just wanting to get on with their lives.
How come he wasn’t made the same way? Why had he been given the genes of wanderlust, with no reason to look for a settled environment?
Was he just like his father?
“Are you in trouble?” Ava asked, breaking his reflection.
“No.” He shrugged off her question with a smile.
“I think you are. Your father’s in trouble and his issues are raining down on you.”
He couldn’t smile that one away. How could she know anything about his father?
She waited, watching him. Patience oozing off her.
He swallowed. Okay, he needed to maneuver this conversation. “I am here because of my father, in some ways.” It was what he’d already told Marie, so he could open up a little now and stay as close to the truth as possible. “He got into trouble, and I’m trying to find a way to ensure my mother and my sisters aren’t on the receiving end. He messed up.” Big-time.
“He messed up the moment he left your mother.”
Mark stared. It wasn’t possible, even for a genuine soothsayer, to have this amount of accurate information.
“What would your father do,” she asked, “if he were in a real bad position of his own making?”
“Run. He’d kick a puppy if it got in his way. His family means nothing to him.”
“And what would you do?”
“I’d try to work it all out so it’s fair for everyone. If I couldn’t do that, I’d hand myself in.”
“Which means you’re not like him.”
The sad fact was, he was becoming more like his father every second he was here in Surrender, and he’d better watch what he said or he’d end up giving her the entire sorry tale.
She pulled at a hessian bag tied to her belt, placed a white cloth on the table, and threw the bag’s contents onto it.
“Runes?” he asked. The stones were crafted from crystal pieces in similar size and shape but were multicolored and multifaceted. Three jade-green stones had fallen slightly to one side.
“Those are yours,” she told him.
“Aren’t I supposed to ask a question of the universe before you throw the stones?”
“No need. I know what your question is. I know why you’re here.”
“Like I said, I’m here because I needed to get away for a while.” The only question he had was what the hell is going to happen next? He nodded at the stones. “I hope you’re going to give me some good news.”
She chuckled. “There’s no end until you’ve gotten yourself through the start and the middle. I reckon you’re at the middle.”
So how was it going to end?
“You’re at cross purposes,” she told him.
She was right. His purpose was double-crossing.
“Are you playing us, Mark Sterrett? Or do you want to be genuine?”
He wanted a lot of things, probably her granddaughter included, but she didn’t know about his situation. She couldn’t possibly. Was it guesswork? Did she know of a way to peel back layers, pinch relevant bits of information from all around her, then use it to taunt a guy?
“Are you going to write about all this one day?” she asked.
“No.”
“I think you will.”
He didn’t move; he didn’t even blink. Was that a prediction? He hadn’t intended to write again, ever. “What do those stones tell you I’m going to do?”
“I already know what you’re going to do. I’m helping you find your way. That one,” she said, pointing to the left jade-green stone, “is an element of the past. People are doing you a favor. You’re wondering about having to respond in kind.” She glanced at him, then down. “The middle stone refers to your dawning. Your understanding. You’ll feel energized like never before. The stone on the right is your future. Providence. Karma. Fruitfulness.”
“Sounds like it’s good news.”
“Depends how you decide to plant your crops.” She gave him a look that made his spine tingle. “That which has been sown will then be reaped,” she said quietly.
Again, she was right. He’d lose the friendship and camaraderie he’d built up with the people in this valley. He’d lose face due to having stabbed them in the back. He’d probably never be the same man.
“That middle stone says you’re going to go down before you come up again. This cycle is eternal, and it started when you were a child. You ran from what you experienced as a young boy. Lack of paternal love and your parents’ difficult marriage. You won’t find love again—a man’s love for a woman—until you look for it. And you’re going to have a tough ride.”
“Thanks,” he said, unable to halt the wry tone.
“Be careful about your feelings and what you believe. Especially around Lauren.”
“Why?”
“You’ll be given an option, and it’ll tear you in two. You won’t believe it possible. You’ll run from it.”
“And that’s a mistake?”
“It depends which path you take.”
“Which one do you think I’ll take?”
“Can’t say.”
“Take a bet.”
The air got serious all of a sudden.
“You’re the one to make the decisions about what you believe, Mark Sterrett. I’m trusting you.”
Somehow, this woman knew he was playing everyone around him, but she wasn’t sentencing him. “Can you write a person’s fate and it plays out?” Was she showing him an exit route from the mess he was in?
“No. Neither can Lauren.”
“What has she got to do with my future or my fate?” There was no way Lauren could help him, and no way he wanted her involved in the current seedy side of his life. For all he knew, he’d end up branded a criminal.
Ava rose. “I’ll throw the lock on the door after me,” she said, picking up her helmet from the bar and making her way to the kitchen without looking back. “And remember—change is up to you. Listen out for that call from the mockingbird.”
Did she think he was lonely and wanted a mate? Or was it a play on words and she was mocking him?
As for change, his future was set, thanks to his father. He’d be on his own for years to come, forever recalling how badly he’d behaved—or appeared to have behaved—during his short stint as a bar owner.
He scrubbed his face with his hands as the back door closed, the click of a lock falling into place. Whatever she’d wanted him to hear or feel during that extraordinary meeting, it was up to him to make sense of it all.
He’d spoken about passion at the meeting. Passion and value. He had to make an impact with more than words. With more than nods of agreement and suggestions of how they could change the fate of their town.
He’d been working alone all the time he’d been here, without realizing what he had around him—value and passion. From the townspeople themselves.
For a second, part of him longed to be one of them. Their slow way of life was about to change, and the only way he could at least attempt to make things right before he left was to become actively involved.
One day he might look around for a place like Surrender. Somewhere to put down roots. Unless he was in prison…
He pulled out his cell phone and sent his mom a text. “Hey, Mom. How are you?”
A few minutes later she replied.
“Darling! What are you doing texting this late?”
Time hadn’t been on his mind.
“Sorry. Been writing hard. Forget what day it is!”
She sent him a kiss-kiss. “All well here. Take care of yourself. And don’t forget to EAT!”
He found a smile. She was okay. Nobody had gotten to her or frightened her with strange phone calls or threats.
Next, he sent a text to Boomer. “I’m ready for you tomorrow. Everything in place. They had a town meeting tonight—and they don’t know what they’re doing.”
Then, he dialed the Buckners. “Doc,” he said when the middle brother picked up the landline phone. “I’ve just discovered Donaldson’s will be here first thing in the morning. I need everyone’s help. I’ve got a plan.”