Making Magic (40 page)

Thea tried to get rid of the huge lump in her throat, but couldn’t. “If…” she croaked, then cleared her throat with a gulp of coffee. “If at any point, you want any of the constraints removed, contact one of us. All right?” She managed a smile for Emmy and Aaron.

Jake had waited in his truck until the dim gray light of dawn, watching everyone leave, then he had tailed Greg after the man slashed the correct tire on Thea’s BMW and drove off the mountain. Once he was certain Greg was headed for Asheville, he’d come back up to the farm and resumed his search for Bailey.

He still couldn’t get the expression on Thea’s face out of his mind. Betrayal. Pain. And a whole lot of anger. Despite how tired she’d been, his Matchstick had been furious.

“Bailey!” Jake’s voice echoed back from the ridge in the soft morning air. No answering yap. No white fur ball barreling out of the underbrush into the sun.

Her anger had been justified. Jake had thought when Nick had brought up the subject and shared that eerie poem with him, that he could manage it. He could allow Thea to use her gift on him—set a good example for his mom and the kids.

But when it came right down to it, he couldn’t.

On top of everything else Thea had been through yesterday, he had turned his back and walked away.

No. He needed to be honest. He had run. Just when he had found her again, he had run away from her.

He had always thought of himself as strong and capable. Not much could shake him. Nothing but his little firebrand and her talent—her voice.

Finding out that his mom’s drinking problem had been brought on by her own gift—by her fear of what she was seeing—had been unsettling. On top of that, he was stunned by the change in her after whatever Mel and Grace and little Lily had done.

He shook his head. It wasn’t as if twenty years had fallen away and he had his old mom back, but it was still pretty amazing. Although no one else would probably notice the change, Eric would—if Eric ever came home again.

“Bailey! Come on girl!” He waved the bacon he’d brought in the morning air, leaving a scent trail no dog could resist. As reluctant as he was to face Thea, he really didn’t want to face her without Bailey.

Watching Thea use her gift on Greg the way a surgeon employed a scalpel had given Jake a whole new perspective on her anxiety about using it. In the hands of a skilled attorney it was truly a formidable weapon. The idea of anyone having the power to control his mind that precisely, and without leaving a trace, really bothered him. Even if that someone was Thea. It wasn’t about trust. It was more fundamental than that. It was about free will.

Jake wasn’t surprised that she had wanted to leave the mountain. When he thought about the sacrifices the people in that room last night were going to make—for the future of the planet, he was dismayed. The look on Thea’s face when she heard Granny Lily’s poem had said it all.

“
Only those who hear Her voice are burdened with this awe full choice, to serve in silence year on year the people of this blessed Sphere.
”

Awe full choice. Now that was a phrase full of double meaning. But there was no real choice for any of them. Not really.

“Bailey!” he yelled and waved the bacon in the humid air as he walked further into the woods.

After last night, normal had become a thing of the past. But then again, his life had never been normal. So much had been lost as a result of his mom trying to drown her gift in alcohol—Becca, maybe even his dad. So many years of going through the motions.

Physically, Grace had healed his mom. But mentally? Emotionally? In spite of the relief Mel had given her last night, she was going to need counseling. Hell,
he
was going to need counseling. Maybe they should go together.

And try to explain to a psychiatrist what his mom had been so afraid of that she took to drinking in order not to see it? Not a good idea. It was going to be interesting trying to explain to Eric what had happened, if he was ever
allowed
to do so.

Allowed. The word raised his blood pressure again. He had fought for control his entire life, even when there hadn’t been much he could control. He could control his gift. He could control his music. He had tried to control the way that the roller coaster of their family life impacted Becca, but he had failed at that in a big way.

He didn’t deal well with losing control. At all. He practically had a damned phobia about it.

And giving up part of his free will, even if it was for their protection? No. Nothing would have kept him in that room last night. Even the thought of losing Thea didn’t keep him from running out that door.

“Bailey!” he yelled. “Come on, girl.”

But Thea, of all people, should understand. She had given up years of her life trying to atone for Becca’s death and her father’s bad choices. And here she was confronted with giving up the rest of her life for what—the greater good? Maybe. But he could tell by the look on her face last night that she was fully aware of what that poem had meant.

“Bailey, girl!” He whistled long and loud this time.

Aegis
. Shield. He could only imagine what that was going to mean in terms of her personal life and health. She had almost run out of steam last night because they were relying so heavily on her gift. Even Grace couldn’t get her voice completely back to normal. Someone needed to protect Thea from herself.

He frowned. If he was going to somehow get back in her good graces, it was going to have to be with that fur baby of hers in his arms. A nice Thea-proof shield to get him into the house so he could apologize.

“Bailey, honey, you need to come out for some of this nice bacon!”

Was it wrong that he was envious of the attention Bailey got from Thea? At least the
dog
got a chance to dance with her at the wedding.

But to be honest, he’d never taken the chance. He wondered how different his life might have been if he had all those years ago. How different her life might have been.

He whistled loud and long. “Here, Bailey girl!”

He heard an answering note and stopped in his tracks. Was that the mountain singing back with birdsong? The woods were certainly full of it. It was a perfect morning—warm and moist, with the air full of the scents and sounds of the summer forest. Motes of pollen danced in the shafts of sunlight that made it through the dense branches. The contrast of the summer wildflowers in bloom along the trail with the deep emerald foliage was amazing.

He let out a relieved breath when he heard the sound again. Thea’s flute. The voice of the flute seemed to be just another of the normal sounds of a summer morning on the mountain. She was out here somewhere calling Bailey to her with her music.

Jake couldn’t compete with a pied piper of that caliber. He accepted defeat and followed the music. She wasn’t near the cemetery today, but up closer to the top of the ridge. Her music was different as well. Not mournful at all.

Velvet notes danced through the moist air, as sultry and warm as the rich scent of some unseen bloom. Jake had no idea what she was playing. It seemed to be Native American—an interesting selection to charm a wandering dog. The mountain was conspiring with her, lending an underpinning of sweet rhythm to her music.

Jake didn’t recognize the song, but did recognize the instrument. It was a wooden flute. He had carved a couple of them right before Thea was supposed to head off to Curtis. He’d given one of them to Becca, the one with the very ugly bear perched on top. He knew exactly where that one was, wrapped in glittery hair ties, tucked next to her fiddle.

The other one was supposed to be a gift for Thea, but it had disappeared only days before the accident.

As he ducked low-hanging branches and clambered over rocks and roots, Thea began another Native American melody—a plaintive tune that reminded him of birds calling in the evening, echoing around the trees. Even the song birds seemed to be in key, trying to follow along in this bewitching concert.

But he wouldn’t simply blunder into this snare of hers. He wanted to watch her play. He slowed down as the rich notes grew and expanded around him, persuasive and tempting. Catching a flash of color through the green, he hunkered down among the rocks and inched forward carefully.

Thea had found a lovely little spot nestled back in the ridge, surrounded by rocks and overhanging trees and carpeted with lush green. She had spread a blanket out in the dappled sunlight sifting through the trees. She was standing, of course. Thea rarely sat still or even stood still to play if she could help it. She was moving around on the blanket barefooted, jeans rolled up to her knees, moving in that way she did when she played—dancing with her flute.

His
flute. The one he had made of cherry from wood he’d found on this mountain years ago. The one he had planned to give her once he carved a better fetish for the top. He was pretty sure, even at this distance, that he had carved the rather ugly mountain lion that served as the block. If it was his, it bore a carved paw print below the mouthpiece—the mouthpiece she had those talented lips of hers wrapped around. He bet that Becca had stolen it from his room and given it to Thea a long time ago, because it was clear Thea had been playing it for a good while. Something warm and possessive bloomed in his chest. His fingers tingled watching hers on the flute he had carved.
Mine.

But it wasn’t the flute he wanted to hold.

She moved with her eyes shut, as if the instrument in her hands was a guide and she had to go where it called her. She was as certain of her footing as the big cat portrayed on the flute. She must’ve gotten at least some sleep because she looked well rested and had managed to repair the horrible hack job he had done on her hair, or at least hide the damage.

He had to admit, even though he loved her hair long, this short cut suited her. With her red hair blazing around her glowing face above that dark green shirt, she looked otherworldly, dancing like a wood nymph in the shafts of sunlight.

Her flute seemed to be longing for something out of reach, something she desired with all her heart. It was a different tune, but filled with even more yearning. If Bailey didn’t respond to this, Jake would be surprised.

And Thea had been doing her duty for Daniel’s honey, deadheading those invasive flowers again. A huge pile of the lacy white blooms were stacked on a paper towel next to her tote at the edge of the blanket. He caught a flash of movement and noticed something else white and fluffy sticking up from behind the tote. Leaning over for a better view, he could see Bailey’s tail. The dog was lapping up water from a bowl, her tail wagging as if it were a pump handle. He grinned. Thea had to be ecstatic.

But if it wasn’t Bailey that she was trying to lure with her music…

Chapter Eighteen

The melody was so full of longing and hunger that it reached right into Jake’s chest and evoked something equal in response. Those velvety low notes reverberated all the way down his spine.

Mine.

If he walked into that little glade, his life would never be the same again. But if he didn’t, his life wouldn’t be anything like he wanted it to be. It felt as if his fiery Matchstick was luring him in for a bonfire—with him as the willing sacrifice.

He smiled and rewrapped the bacon, tucking it into his jeans pocket.

The dog noticed him first, sprinting over to throw herself at him. He scooped her out of the air and looked her over. No apparent damage from her night in the wild.

“So little lady, where did you spend the night?” he asked, his voice a bit rough.

The song cut off. Thea spun around, a bright smile on her face. It looked authentic. Maybe it was.

“There he is, Bailey! I told you he was out here somewhere.”

“And here I thought Bailey was the one who was lost,” Jake said, tucking the dog under his arm. “Apparently it was me.” She immediately started squirming and trying to stick her nose in his jeans pocket, so he put her down.

“She wasn’t lost at all, were you, pumpkin?” Thea bent down as the dog raced back to her. “She was hiding out on the back terrace under a chair the whole time.”

“Best place for her, I suppose. No damage from being kicked around?”

“She’s a little tender along her ribs. I’m going to let Grace take a look at her,” Thea said. “But I think she’s okay. I’m thrilled she stayed close, bless her heart.”

“Like I told you—”

“‘Anyone who belongs on this mountain comes back to it, eventually.’ Which is why, you will note, I don’t have a leash on her anymore.” She stuck out her tongue.

“You keep sticking that tongue out at me and I’m going to do something with it.”

“
Really
?” she purred.

And that was exactly what it was—a very sexy purr. It made his hair stand on end.

“Where’d you get that flute?”

The instrument disappeared behind her back. She flushed a little, raising her chin into the air.

“Becca gave it to me. A long time ago.”

“Oh?” He crossed his arms and stared at her.