*Mark was upstairs in his living quarters while the gang downstairs swung into party mode.
He called Big Sam to double-check the situation in California was still secure. Thankfully, it was.
“It won’t be long now, Sam.” The police would be back to question him and others, but the longer Mark could draw this out, the more the press would discover. He wanted time to ensure everyone’s safety, and there was something else making him hesitate to call the police and confess everything he knew.
Lauren.
There was trouble on her heels. Why else had that strange, harmony-filled yet eerie moment have passed between her and Marie?
He needed to keep time on his side, just for a little while longer.
He texted Boomer in case he needed another ruse. He doubted the man was still around; he’d be long gone, but just in case…
“I’ve found my father. Text me a time and place to hand him over.”
He waited a few minutes, but there was no answer. Boomer might already have become someone else. Gone.
The police wouldn’t hold D’Pee and Slick for long. They’d have their lies in place for their supposed lack of knowledge of previous employee, Bob Smith.
He grabbed the saloon keys and made his way to the stairs. On a whim, he left his cell phone behind. He wanted to give Lauren his undivided attention tonight.
He paused as once again, Ava’s words came to him. You’ll be given an option, and it’ll tear you in two. You won’t believe it possible. You’ll run from it.
What were these Mackillop women telling him?
He guessed he’d find out.
Ten minutes later, he was knocking on Lauren’s front door. “It’s me!” he called when he heard footsteps from inside.
The door opened a crack. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t want to celebrate without you. I brought wine.” He held up a bottle of champagne. “And since you’re reluctant to share in the good fortune going on around town, I’ve brought the party to you.”
She glanced over his shoulder, surprise registering when she saw the gang standing on the pathway. Her friends and her townspeople.
“Don’t lock us out, Lauren,” he said quietly. “We care for you.”
“You shouldn’t have come. The house is not safe.”
“In that case, I’m getting you out of there.” He slipped a foot between the door and the frame in case she closed him out.
“That’s not what I mean, Mark. There are things you don’t understand.”
“All I understand is that we need to talk. For a start, what was going on between you and Marie? Why did you run away?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Hey, can we come in now?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to look mean-spirited if you don’t let them in.”
She blew out a breath and opened the door wider.
He smiled as he handed her the champagne and beckoned everyone in.
The Buckners, Hortense, and the Gerdins trooped up the path and onto the porch.
“This is right good of you, Lauren,” Ingrid said as she walked into the hallway, eyes on everything around her. “Mark told us you’d invited us over.”
Lauren shot him a withering look.
He gave her a smile, then stepped back as her friends gave her welcoming hugs and made their way into the kitchen with a picnic basket and more bottles of champagne.
She shot a look at the still broken staircase. Was she thinking about the time she’d showed him around the house? That had been the day it all changed for him. His feelings for the town, and for her. As soon as this party was over, he was going to come clean and tell her who he was, why he was here, and why she could trust him.
*
Lauren ought to be angry with Mark, but she couldn’t bring herself to it.
She probably had been thoughtless, leaving town the way she had. There was nothing bad in the house after all. It was exactly as it always had been, full of the aroma of sage, warmed from the day’s sun, and quietly resplendent.
“Come off there,” she told him. He was teasing her by standing halfway up the staircase.
He grinned, and a second later, pretended to trip.
Regardless of the pretense, she ran forward.
“Ouch,” he said, holding up a finger. “Think I got a splinter.”
“Stop it!”
He smiled. “I wanted to get your attention. Everyone else has had it for the last half hour. It’s my turn.”
She looked over her shoulder.
“This is some house!” Hortense said, fingering the push-button light switches and turning the chandelier on and off, making it twinkle as the light faded then sparkle again.
“Always wanted to see inside,” Ingrid said. “I didn’t get the chance when the renovations were started.”
Nobody mentioned the fact that they’d stopped—due to the curse.
“Everyone should use the downstairs bathrooms,” Lauren told them. “Until I get the staircase fixed.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t invade your privacy by taking a peek upstairs without your permission,” Ingrid said, expectancy in her eyes.
“When the bannister’s back on and the stairs are safe,” Lauren told her. “I promise, you’ll be the first to see the house as soon as it’s renovated.”
“It won’t take much,” Hortense said to Ingrid. “It’s spectacular.”
“Why are you so worried about me being on the stairs?” Mark asked when the others continued their perusal of her home.
She pulled a frown. All right, she’d give him a little insight—after he’d given her some. “Didn’t you get bad vibes when you were last on them? When you fell?”
“I tripped.”
“Pull the other one.”
He pursed his mouth. “Okay. I did feel something…odd.”
“Like what?”
“It was—hell, I don’t know. I thought for a second I’d been pushed, that’s all. I felt a hand on my shoulder…” He trailed off, then smiled and jogged down the stairs. “Come on, let’s not spoil the party.”
“Mark, wait. Did you pretend just now? Or did you trip?”
“I bruised a finger.” He held it up again. “Want to kiss it better?”
He was flirting with her and she wasn’t supposed to let him. A cacophony of emotions rose, scrambling her mind. “This is so dangerous,” she told him, then took his face in her hands and kissed him on the mouth.
His hands came to her waist as he accepted her kiss, his mouth strong against hers.
When they broke, his eyes had darkened. “You’ve really given the town something to talk about now.”
She didn’t know why she’d done it. Some wild streak inside her, after all, maybe. But she wanted to do it again. To feel his mouth on hers, as though that might protect him in some way.
She’d promised herself not to sway him in any way whatsoever. Now what had she done by kissing him? Changed fate? Again?
“Love is in the air!” Ingrid said. “Gerdin, open that next bottle of champagne. This could be your lucky night.”
The party was in full swing, everyone enjoying a hearty debate on what the developers might try next. But Lauren couldn’t bring herself to move far from the staircase.
Ever since Mark had amused himself by pretending to trip, there’d been a chill around her shoulders.
She hadn’t felt any chills in her house before now, nor had she been given any indication that there was something bad in the air, not even when she came home earlier and searched for it, waited for it. But the chill now bit into her.
She looked up at the staircase.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
All of a sudden, her ears cracked, but when the sounds around her disappeared, she wasn’t carried to the future. She was in the here and now.
Something passed her vision. A wafting. Not smoke, but a vaporous thing, and in a moment, she was at the base of the stairs without being aware she’d moved.
“Lauren?”
It was Mark’s voice, but she was unable to turn to him. She was unable to speak. She was tied to another. It was like a heavy chain, dragging her up.
“Lauren!”
There were other voices now too. Her townspeople. They sounded shocked, shaken. But she was powerless.
Someone or something had built a wall between her and her people, her family. It was trapping her. A staleness, full of resentment was behind her, pushing her—and in front of her, an invitation to step forward. To greet it. To accept it.
Her fingers curled into her palms. She wasn’t supposed to reach out. She wasn’t supposed to go.
“Lauren!”
It was Mark’s voice again, easily distinguishable, but there was another voice in her head. A voice she hardly remembered, although it crawled from the depths of her recollection, making its way to her heart. Her mother.
“Don’t go.” The voice was ethereal and rich in appeal. And the inviting hand—intimidating. Was this her great-grandfather, come to show her his power?
She clenched her hands tightly.
“Lauren, stand firm.”
Ava’s voice.
She drew on all her courage until it buoyed her.
Maybe passion beats anger. It was what she’d said to Mark when she showed him the house and told him about the great-grandfathers and how her brave Mackillop ancestors had beaten them. She’d hoped it was true. She’d been thinking it might help should her great-grandfather ever try to do harm.
She’d been giving herself her own forewarning. She was a true Mackillop.
“Damn it—Lauren!”
Mark again.
But she was so deeply in this trance, it felt like her feet weren’t touching the ground. Her heartbeat resounded in her ears. She was floating, the love in her heart brimming, like a cup overflowing, like the waterfall that fell from the clifftop and met the lake in a pounding rush.
*
The light bulbs in the chandelier and in the wall sconces had all gone out. It was dark, with only the stars and moon sending shadowy light through the thick plastic sheeting attached to the gap in the wall.
Mark’s focus was on the staircase. On Lauren. The denseness of the air was so thick he could practically see it.
“Lauren!” He couldn’t get to her. He couldn’t reach her.
She was halfway up the steps, just before the staircase curved, and she was suspended, literally hovering above a step.
He was pushing against some invisible barrier. The Buckners were next to him, also trying to break through. He put his shoulder to it, but whatever it was, it was an intangible wall of steel.
*
Kid was punching the barrier, his face red from the effort. Gerdin’s mouth was pinched, eyes scrunched, as he, too, used all the strength in his body to drive through the blockade.
Ava! Do something.
*
The feminine power was overwhelming, and it was protecting her, but Lauren’s inner strength was being tested, and she’d need to use all her determination, all her willpower, and all her beliefs in what was good and what was right.
As the energies around her heightened, the balance of power swung, rocking her, as though the air had been knocked out of her. A second later, a moment later—she had no idea of time—the denseness melted and calmness prodded the atmosphere, chipping away at the bad until good reigned supreme.
Her arms dropped to her sides, as though weighted. Her breath was still high in her chest—but she was free.
She’d done it! She’d been challenged in the most daunting manner and she’d come through.
She turned, not yet fully aware of her surroundings or of the time that had passed, and met the stunned expressions of her houseguests.
Reality sank in fast. What had they seen? What had they felt? “Is everyone all right?”
After an inordinate silence, Mr. Gerdin spoke, “Well. That’s not something you see every day.”
Everyone laughed in a relieved but befuddled way.
“Do you know what just happened?” Mark asked as he stared up at her.
She couldn’t hold onto her joy or her smile. “I did it, Mark. I did it!”
“Did what?”
She was freed from a bond she’d never known had bound her. “My great-grandfather. The curse,” she explained, “it was real.” And she’d just gotten rid of it, much the same way Molly must have done at her hacienda.
No wonder her cousin hadn’t wanted to talk about it!
The emotions and sensations that had overcome her had been strong, and yet she’d had a miraculous command streaming through her. How could she ever explain it to another person?
“I think I need another drink,” Ingrid said.
“We might have had too much!” Hortense exclaimed. “Did we just see what we just saw?”
“I doubt anyone would believe us,” Doc said.
“I thought it was amazing,” Kid said. “Whatever it was.”
“It happened.” Ingrid took a step forward. “Unbelievable or not, we saw it—or what we were allowed to see.” She glanced up at Lauren again, her baffled expression still in place.
“How do you feel?” Butch asked softly. He was holding Hortense’s hand—gripping it, and no doubt thankful his woman wasn’t capable of such things.
“I feel wonderful.” In some small way, she’d just met her great-grandmother and had been reunited, for the briefest, heavenliest moment, with her mother.
How could she ever thank the powers that be?
“It was certainly not something I could explain away,” Hortense said.
Ingrid raised her hands, meeting each person’s eye. “What we’ve seen tonight is what we saw, and not one of us can deny it. But we’re not going to talk about it. To anyone. This stays with us.”
Everyone agreed, but with a deeply embedded instinct that was new to her, Lauren already knew the story wouldn’t stay buried. But it wasn’t going to be a viciously spread rumor, it was going to help her cousin, Pepper, in some way. She just didn’t know how.
“Sweetheart,” Ingrid said, “you’re one of a kind.”
“No,” Lauren said, pride overcoming her. “I’m a Mackillop.”