Chapter Eleven #2
“Not sure how it spreads. At first, I thought it was about Grace and Lily.” He looked at the two curled against each other, the picture of health.
“The second time I had the dream I saw news magazines with headlines about dropping birth rates and a possible bioweapon. I couldn’t see the dates, or if I did, I didn’t remember them. ”
“An airborne bug that impacts birth rates.” Grace shook her head.
“You were both in Atlanta, meeting with someone at the CDC. I…was in the ER with someone who was having a miscarriage.”
Grace’s hand was over her mouth. “Who was it? Do you know?”
Daniel took a long drink from his glass. “Not until a minute ago.” He looked at the two people in the world he trusted with this information. “It’s Mel.”
Grace’s eyes widened as an alarm bleated twice, telling them that someone had opened the front gate.
Mel drove out of the tunnel of trees into a huge meadow.
The road getting here had been misty, with wisps of fog dancing in her headlights the higher she climbed.
She had wondered if her car was going to fly off into space at some point.
Her GPS had quit working, probably because of some ridge or mountain peak or something.
But the well-lit sign for Woodruff Herb Farm & Cabins had been a beacon in the chill night.
She’d had no problem finding the place, despite Daniel’s concerns.
But this? This was amazing. The vista of black mountain ridges weaving back and forth as far as she could see looked like the spine of some huge, coiled fantasy creature sleeping on a cloud. The fog moved and shifted as if with the creature’s breaths. And beneath it all was that barely heard music.
She looked up at the night sky and stopped the car. It was like someone had blown a handful of sugar over black velvet. She had seen the stars like this before—many of the places her parents had performed were well removed from the city—but this magnificent display seemed closer somehow.
“I like your mountain so far, Daniel,” she said as she drove on, following the signs that pointed her toward the cabins. She turned into the drive in front of the house as instructed.
A familiar dark-haired figure waited by the brick walkway as she put the car in park and opened the door.
He looked more casual in his jeans than he had in Italy, even though he still had a button-down shirt on—thankfully with no tie—and gloves.
She jumped out and came over to him, reining in her initial impulse to throw her arms around his neck.
“Still as tall and eccentric as I remember,” she quipped, and was rewarded with a warm grin.
“Still as short and sassy as I remember.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Sassy, huh?”
“How about feisty?”
“That works too.” She tried to get a read on his mood without her talento. The smile had faded a bit, and he was keeping her at arm’s length.
He turned to admire the Mini. “I like your car. The color suits you. In fact, I bet it matches your eyes…at least some of the time.”
So, he’d noticed that her eyes tended to change color. “Laser blue,” she said. “This place is breathtaking, by the way. The view up in that meadow is like something out of a fantasy movie. And the stars! So glad I had the top down.”
“You didn’t get lost? Overshoot the turnoff or miss the sign?”
“No. Does that happen a lot?”
“More than you think. The mountain can play tricks on you.”
“Really?” She shrugged. “Your directions were fine. I’m probably here earlier than you expected. I’m afraid I sometimes exceed the speed limit.”
She noted his skeptical expression.
“Okay, most of the time,” she admitted.
“That’s more like it.” He ran his gloved fingers over the hood. “I like the racing stripes.” They were the same gloves he had bought in Italy.
“They suit her. This baby can move, especially on those winding mountain roads.” She pulled her pack out of the passenger seat. “I’m afraid the rest of my luggage is a stack of shopping bags. I bought the suitcase afterward and didn’t get a chance to pack everything into it.”
“I’ll help you get it all upstairs.” He followed her to the trunk. “I’m sorry about your RV, Mel. That had to be hard, watching everything go up in flames like that.”
Mel remembered the horrible noise the RV had made as it burned. Like an old friend had been trapped inside. Or an old life. “It was.” She tried to keep her voice light but didn’t quite succeed.
“You know, you don’t have to act all gutsy around me,” he said right behind her. “You can be upset once in a while like everyone else. I won’t tell.”
His words flowed over her, warm and comforting. If only he knew that when she got upset, the world got upset right along with her. But it was nice to have someone actually notice her true emotional state without her projecting. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned past her to pull a fuchsia suitcase out of the trunk, along with a handful of shopping bags.
“I hope you don’t mind, but my sister and her husband have already gone to bed.
She’s five months pregnant and they’re both early risers.
” He paused. “At least that’s the excuse they always give me. ”
Mel laughed. This Daniel was more relaxed than the one she’d dragged around Florence.
“They send their apologies, and look forward to meeting you in the morning,” he continued.
“Since I probably still smell like burned RV, I’m a bit relieved.”
“You don’t smell anything like burned RV,” he said. “Of course, I don’t know what burned RV smells like.”
Shaking her head and laughing, she grabbed the rest of her shopping bags. “Lead me to my fabulous accommodations.”
He took her up the center set of brick steps onto the huge, covered porch.
There were two porch swings draped with old quilts and several wooden rockers with large cushions, along with clusters of rattan chairs and tables.
Hanging baskets full of blooms dripped from the eaves, and colorful rag rugs were scattered here and there on the floor.
She sighed. “I’ll sleep out here, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Wait until you see the sunroom,” Daniel said, opening the door.
She studied the planks on the porch and then the wood in the foyer as they entered the house. “How old is this place?”
“Not as old as it looks. Any old wood you see is reclaimed from buildings on the property or in the area. Same with the old fixtures and furnishings. Any new wood was harvested and milled on the property and then painted and distressed to look old. The paints and finishes are all nontoxic, plant-based. Pops was determined to prove that you could have sustainability and modern convenience and still have a house that looked and felt like it belonged.”
“I want all the details.” Mel peered into the house’s dim recesses beyond the foyer. “This place may deserve its own article.” She looked at the beadboard walls and ceiling and the gleaming wood of the curving staircase with a new perspective. “What about power?”
Daniel was enjoying her enthusiasm. “We’re off-grid. I’ll give you the full tour tomorrow. I promise. I imagine you could keep going for hours, but some of us actually need rest, and if you could possibly pretend to sleep or something, we’d all appreciate it.”
Truth was, Mel was exhausted. Between losing the RV and the long drive and Daniel’s warm welcome, she suddenly felt a bit unsteady.
“You okay?” Daniel said with concern.
“Lead on, dear innkeeper,” she said, resisting the urge to lean forward into that broad chest. “I am suddenly tired beyond words.”
Daniel motioned her toward the stairs. “We could use the elevator, but the door is right outside their bedroom,” he said.
“You have an elevator?”
“In a three-story house, it just makes sense.”
She noticed a lovely display of family photos on the curving wall of the staircase, along with shadow boxes of mementos, antique bird houses, baby shoes, framed lace doilies and old cookie cutters. She imagined there was a story behind each of them.
“Left,” Daniel said at the top of the stairs. She glanced over the balcony into the great room below and then turned. There was an elevator call button beside what looked like a closet next to the open door Daniel motioned her into.
“This is Grace’s old room. I thought you’d be comfortable here.”
A wedding-ring quilt adorned the four-poster bed, and she was certain every piece of furniture, from the charming rolltop desk to the rocker in the sitting area, was an antique.
The room was done in soothing shades of blue or green: the beadboard ceiling, the framed prints of plants on the walls, the cushions in the seating area.
A bright bouquet of wildflowers sat on the bedside table.
This was beyond comfortable. It was homey.
“Oh,” was all she could say.
Daniel carried her bags to the blanket chest and set the suitcase on the floor. “Don’t let the bathroom scare you. It looks Victorian, but the plumbing is modern.”
“It’s wonderful. What a perfect room,” she said.
“Much better than another motel, eh?”
She nodded and wondered if she would need to shield herself tonight. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, putting her shield in place so she could get off to sleep. And staying asleep if anyone was broadcasting strong feelings nearby was impossible. She opened up to read the emotions nearby.
Concern. Worry. That was Daniel’s constant background noise. Pleasure. Affection. Attraction. Those made her smile. He actually liked being around her, and despite the fact that she hadn’t used the talento until now, he was pleased that she was here.
The rest of the house was quiet. Beyond Daniel, there was only calm and contentment, the sort of feeling she got from people sound asleep.
That was a relief. She wished she could dispel the dread that lurked behind Daniel’s eyes, but first he had to trust her enough to share whatever disturbing things he had seen.
No. First he had to trust her enough to tell her about his ability.