Heroes of Falledge Book One: Black Hellebore (3 page)

Julianna was partially dead, too.

"You aren't leaving here without giving me some answers."

He grinned at her naivety. "You can't make me do anything."

She gaped. "We aren't teenagers anymore. This isn't a game!"

"No, it's not," he agreed. "It's in the past. Can't drive away from it, right? So what's the point in rehashing it and digging through old wounds?"

"Like you should talk. You came back here to visit her grave! How is that not rehashing it?"

"How is not moving away?" he countered.

Julianna threw her hands up in the air. "You're just as infuriating now as you ever were back then."

"Thanks. Now I gotta get going."

"On a bike that doesn't have enough gas to get you out of town."

"I'll get out of town. Thanks for breakfast, doll." He winked and stomped out of the house, grinning despite himself as she continued to yell at him. Nicholas didn't care that she was furious about his leaving or his term of "endearment."

Actually, he cared a little more than he thought he would.

Chapter Four

Nicholas hopped onto his bike and sped away. He passed his old home again and paused in front of it. Mrs. Perry had died four years ago from a massive heart attack. He hadn't learned about that until a few months after the funeral. By that time, Mr. Perry had packed up his things and moved somewhere.

"Well, I'll be. Is that you? It is, isn't it? Nicholas Adams."

Nicholas turned off his bike to conserve gas and smiled at good old Virginia Jacksonville. "Yes, I am, Ginny. How are you, you old bird?" he teased.

She shook her head at him, her white hair not moving despite the slight breeze in the air. "I'm good, although I would be better if you learned to respect your elders."

"Me? Respect? You sure those words go in the same sentence?"

"Bah." She flicked her hand at him. "You always thought you were tougher than you actually were."

"I am tough!"

Ginny snorted. "Tough enough that... well, you're still broken, boy. I can see it in your eyes."

Nicholas narrowed said eyes. "I'm fine," he said, his tone now cool.

"Don't get all bothered because of me. I'm just a crazy old lady. What do I know?"

He humphed. "You know everything." She always had. Ginny was the town gossip. In an hour, everyone in town would know he had been here. And if they hadn't previously known about him, they would have heard his entire life story, at least as much of it as Ginny knew. Despite her tendency to wag her tongue, Nicholas had always enjoyed her company. He'd often cut her grass in the summertime. She had a special place of her own in his heart -- not only had she been the closest thing to a grandmother he had ever known, but she had been the one to push him to ask Justina out in the first place, when he had been too chicken for fear of ruining their friendship.

Maybe she had a point about him not being so tough.

"I do know everything. I must say, I'm hurt, though."

He furrowed his brow. "What did I do now?"

"It's what you
didn't
do. All these years you came back to visit her, but you never dropped by to see me."

His jaw dropped. "You knew?" Julianna hadn't known, which meant..."You
can
keep your trap shut?"

She giggled, sounding much younger than her seventy-some years. "There's a power in knowing when to talk and when to keep secrets."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know if you still wanted to see me."

"Don't lie. Your eyebrows twitch when you lie. You probably never even thought about me. It's all right." She waved away his protest. "I understand. You have more pressing matters to worry you. Come on in. Stay awhile. Let's catch up."

He hesitated. Every cell in his body screamed at him to flee. Normally he always left town before the sun started to rise, so no one could corner him as he was now. But Ginny was a dear woman. He owed it to her.

Nicholas walked his bike over and parked it next to her Oldsmobile. "Please tell me you don't drive anymore," he said as he followed her inside her small ranch.

"You bet your ass I do. Every day. I may be getting old, but I can still kick yet."

Her tongue was just as he remembered it, but her shoulders hunched more, and she walked a lot slower. He grabbed her hand and helped her into the kitchen, neither reacting to his gesture. She knew she needed him for balance, and he knew she wouldn't accept that help from just anyone.

The thought of helping an older woman reminded him of the woman he'd given the $5.41. If he hadn't, he would've had money for gas and been long gone. Not that he had a house to go to home to.

Julianna was right. He was still running. Running around in circles. Yet, he always ended up back here.

Ginny insisted on making tea. Her hands trembled slightly, clanging the ceramic of her tea set together as she placed the cups and saucers on the table. He watched, knowing how particular she was about the set, knowing how upset it would make her if he tried to help.

Soon they sipped scalding hot, but delicious, tea. Ginny eyed him without saying a word. Finally she said, "You look better than I thought you would."

The right corner of his mouth curled up. "I'm glad you approve."

"But I must say," she continued, "can't you afford a razor? You need to shave." She leaned over and rubbed the scruff on his face.

He winked at her and brushed his hand against his chin. "Some women think it's sexy to have a shadow."

She snorted. "Like you care about 'some women.'" Ginny adjusted herself in her seat.

"You okay?"

"My back's sore. A storm's coming. I can feel it in my bones."

Nicholas held his cup in his hands, the warmth almost too much for him to handle. "You want to talk about the weather?"

He had been trying to mentally prepare himself for questions about his home, his life, what he had been doing since he just up and left town, even about Justina... but the weather?

"What do you want to talk about? What do you want to know?" he asked.

Ginny just smiled and sipped her tea.

"What's new with you?" he asked. It felt surreal to be sitting across from her, drinking tea -- especially since he never drank tea. He was more of a black coffee kind of guy. But being here in her familiar kitchen again, he realized how much he missed the old bird. The room was decorated the same, in a soothing country and apple theme.

Her smile grew as she lowered her cup to its matching saucer. The light blue floral design on the set matched the color of the tablecloth.

"Does your grass need to be cut? I can do that for you." He was stalling, trying to talk about anything that wasn't important. Ginny wouldn't tolerate that for long. Then he remembered it was early October. The grass wouldn't be high even if it hadn't been cut in a while.

"This time'll be for free," he rushed to add, not wanting to burden her with paying him as she had when he had been in high school. Although he really did need the money...

"You need money?" she asked, finally breaking her silence.

"What makes you say that?"

"You looked like you wanted to swallow your tongue after you said 'free.'" Her small eyes widened. "I warned you about the dangers of credit cards. It's always better to only buy what you can afford. If you can't pay for it upfront, you wait and scrimp and save and then get it."

"Don't worry. I never got a credit card. Not even one."

Ginny's white eyebrows knitted together. "No job then? The economy is tough right now, I know."

Nicholas shifted his gaze to the apple-shaped clock on the wall above her head. A small spider crack distorted the six. He rubbed his nose and sniffed. The scent of something baking filled his nostril. Whatever it was, it smelled good. His stomach agreed and rumbled. He'd learned a long time ago to eat whenever he could. Never knew when his next meal might be.

She rested her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm. "If you want some muffins, you'll have to start talking. Don't fret. It won't leave this room."

"You won't tell Julianna?" he muttered.

Ginny blinked. "No... You used to be so close to her too, though. Have you talked to her lately?"

He didn't want to talk about either of the twins so he said, "I work odd jobs. Sometimes I have too much work; most times I don't have enough. I get by somehow. Never stay in one place too long. Don't really have a lot more than some clothes and my bike. It's all I need."

"'Never stay in one place too long.' Does that mean you don't have a place to go to once you leave here?"

"I have a place, but it isn't home."

Her chair creaked, and she groaned as she stood. She hobbled over to the stove and removed the muffins from the oven. The scent of cinnamon made his mouth water.

"You know you can stay here as long as you want," she offered as she returned to the table with two muffins in hand.

"Thanks, but I--"

She shoved one of them into his mouth. "You need to stop."

He chewed the delectable morsel and swallowed. "Stop running?" he asked sourly.

"You need to figure out what you want to do with your life. Seems to me you haven't been living for quite some time. Life happens. People die. You grieve. You move on. That's the natural order of things." She carefully unwrapped her muffin. "You're still stuck in the grieving stage. It's by far the most painful one to be in. You're hurting yourself unnecessarily. Move on."

"I can't," he said around a large mouthful of muffin. It was more scrumptious than he remembered. Buttery goodness, it almost tasted like a coffee cake. "What's in this?" A few crumbs flew out of his mouth as he asked.

"I'll tell you once you grow some roots," she said acidly. She stared at her unbitten muffin.

Nicholas winced at the bitterness in her tone. His unofficial grandmother was disappointed in him. Julianna probably was, as well.

He might be, too. He hadn't realized how much of a loner he was. Thinking of himself as a drifter wasn't completely accurate. He was too close to being considered a worthless bum for comfort.

"Your life is your life. I can't tell you how to live it. You have so much potential, Nick. You can change the world if you want to. You have light within you, despite all of the darkness that has touched you. But your light is dimming. Don't let it go out completely."

It didn't bother him so much when Ginny called him "Nick," not like it had when Julianna had. He tried to rationalize it, that it was because she looked exactly like his Justina, but that wasn't quite right. Tucking the thought away to reflect on at another time, he focused on Ginny's words. He liked the idea of having light within him, but he didn't feel as if he did. He felt dark and empty and depressed.

"She would want you to keep on living, you know that." Ginny's eyes filled with tears. "You didn't know him, but my Sean was an amazing man. When he died, I lost my whole world. I never thought I would recover. And there are days when I feel like I can't get out of bed. But I still do. It hurts now and again, but most of the time, I can get through the day. And it does get easier."

Her words echoed the sentiments the ghost Justina had told him.

"I don't know if I'm ready to move on yet," he said hoarsely. "I don't know if I want to."

"Only you can know if you're ready to, but there are still people here who care about you and would be more than willing to help. I know you hate asking for it. Believe me, I'm the same way, but we all need help sometimes."

The clock chimed two. When had it gotten so late? So much of the day wasted, and he still hadn't left this accursed town.

No, not wasted. Breakfast had been delicious. He'd enjoyed catching up with Ginny.

Even so, his leg muscles twitched, itching to feel his bike between them.

Her joints creaked as she stood. "I'm gonna lie down for a nap. You can stay or you can go. Whatever you want. You know you're always welcome here, and I love ya."

Nicholas stood and walked around the table. He enveloped her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. She was smaller and frailer than he remembered, but her arms held him tightly. "Thank you," he murmured.

Ginny waved his words away and shuffled away down the hall.

He turned back to the table and spied her uneaten muffin. "Hey, Ginny, you mind if I--"

"Go ahead. Just remember you aren't gonna grow any taller. Just wider."

With a wide grin, he devoured the muffin in three large bites. Nicholas wandered into the living room. The muffins hit his gut like bricks, and lethargy threatened to overtake him. He lay down on the soft tan couch. Closing his eyes, he figured he would see a mental image of Justina. Instead he saw the older girl -- Julianna.

Guilt. That was why he didn't want her to call him Nick. He still kept Justina's secrets for years, hiding them from her twin. To be called his nickname belied the distance between the two of them -- a distance he was determined to keep. It would destroy Julianna if she knew the truth. Honestly, Nicholas wasn't certain
he
knew the whole story.

When he woke, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. In front of him was a large window, the blue curtains pulled aside. It was nighttime. He stood and headed toward Ginny's room. Soft snores floated through the door.

"Goodnight, Ginny, thanks for everything," he whispered.

Then he walked out the door, climbed onto his bike, and drove out of town, not once looking back.

Chapter Five

Nicholas approached the "Welcome to Falledge" sign and stopped at the red light. He waited impatiently for it to change -- all of the lights here took forever to turn. When it finally flashed green, he remained in place as something occurred to him.

He hadn't dreamed about Justina.

He always dreamed about her.

Nicholas wracked his brain but couldn't remember what he had dreamt about. He left the town behind and had to stop again at the next light.

Anxious to keep going, especially since he didn't know how far he would get on the teensy gas he had left, he glanced around. A large white building loomed to his left. The laboratory.