Meadow's Keep (The Gatekeepers Series) (7 page)

He couldn’t help
but smile at her. Her black eyes looked into his. It went straight to his gut.

“
They used to get into so much trouble,” she chortled. “We weren’t sure they’d make it to their teens. But, they did.” She took a breath. “And, they grew into gorgeous, gracious girls. They are perfect for my shop. They’ve added a young, kind of funky touch. They’ve brought in some younger clientele, while keeping the others. I’m really proud of them.”

“And…The Shoppe of Spells?” He watched as something moved across her eyes and was gone. He couldn’t tell what.

She took a breath. “The Shoppe of Spells has been a part of Ruthorford from almost the beginning. It has a reputation for being rather…,” she paused, “…eclectic.” She seemed pleased with her choice of words. “I think I’ll let you see for yourself.”

“Oh,” she said as an afterthought, “
Ruthorford is privately owned. By the Abbott House.”

He frowned.
He’d never heard of a town being privately owned.

“But, I thought you had property there?”

“I do. I’m part of Abbott House.” With that, she turned away to look out the window at the clouds.

It wasn’t long before t
hey began their descent. Her least favorite part. He motioned for her to look out of the window. Jasmine had no desire to watch the ground rushing up at her. However, she knew this place. It was home. She pointed, wanting him to see it as it first donned its fall colors. She shifted her gaze down and smiled as she was rewarded with the show of trees, tipped in gold and orange, standing at attention along the waterways that encircled Ruthorford. They flew over the town and headed further south toward the small airport. She listened as he talked to voices over the headset. Then, ahead, she saw the runway. Unable to resist, she grabbed the seat.

It was a smooth landing.

“You can take your death-grip off the seat now,” he laughed. “We’re on the ground.”

“Sorry,” she whispered and flexed her fingers from the cramping.

A young man ran out as they taxied toward the building and waited for them. He pointed to a spot and Eryk parked the plane and shut it down. Eryk reached over, unfastened her harness, and held out his hand to steady her as she stepped over the console and back up into the body of the plane. One thing he’d not liked in the small plane was the lack of hand-holds, but now, having the black-eyed beauty placing her long fingers in his, he wasn’t so sure.

A small current ran between them. Her eyes flew to his. He said nothing, just watched her and felt the pulse change.
Desire followed. He watched her eyes grow even darker, if that was possible. Then the look took on something he didn’t like. Was it fear? Of him? His eyes? He gently squeezed her hand and smiled. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He tried to sound light, carefree.

When the
airstairs lowered, the young man was waiting, all excited. “You’ve got a car waiting for you,” he smiled. “It’s a fully equipped Range Rover.” His excitement was palpable.

“Bask,” Jasmine commented to Eryk.

“Why don’t you bring it around so we can get the luggage?” He smiled at the teenager.

“You mean it?” He was almost hopping.

“Sure. You work here, right?”

“Yes, sir.” He saluted and ran off.

Jasmine followed Eryk down the stairs and smiled at him as he closed and latched the stairway. “You just made that kid very happy.”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all. It’s not my car. I think I’ll go freshen up before we get started,” she turned and walked toward the small building.

Eryk stopped what he was doing and watched her. She moved with incredible grace
and the she filled out a pair of jeans was a pleasure to behold. He felt the blood rush to his groin. “Down, boy,” he half groaned.

He blinked, letting his vision shift so he could see her aura. It was a little less tight than it had been before the flight, but she was still encased in one hell of a protective wrapper.
Returning his vision to normal, he pondered the woman that was haunting his dreams while he unloaded the bags, and then watched as the kid raced the vehicle, a bit too fast, toward his jet.

****

Jasmine finished washing her hands, dried them and dug the small phone out of her jeans pocket. She applied a light swipe of lipstick as she waited for Jenn to answer.

“On the ground, again
?” Jenn piped up.

“Yep. At the airport. Bask left us a Range Rover. Think I’ll give him a little tour on our way in.”

“Everything
hunky
dory?” Jenn let her voice linger on the hunky.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” she affirmed, “and so is he.
How’s Lily?”

“Skittish. Didn’t want to join us for dinner. Meadow changed her mind
. They’re in your wardrobe room, now.”

“Well, Meadow’s sweet nature
could warm anyone.”

Jenn laughed. “The
lasagna helped. And Meadow’s constant chatter about your designer clothes. They didn’t wait for dessert.”

“I’m glad. There’s something about that girl that went straight to my heart.”

“I know. Mine, too.” Jenn said, sounding more subdued. “Call me tonight.”

“Will
do. Bye,” she responded and shoved the phone in her pocket.

Eryk wasn’t at the Rover when she went out. She climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine
, as he walked out of the building and moved toward her. She definitely liked the way he moved.

“Nice ride,” he said
, climbing in beside her and fastening his seat belt.

“Abbott House,” she said simply.

“This Abbott House…,” he started to say, shut his mouth, and gripped the hand bar as she swerved onto the small road.

“You can relax,” Jasmine quipped, “we’re on the ground.”
She hit a button and the sunroof slid back as she slowed to a comfortable speed.

T
rees lined the road, displaying their colors in vibrant coats of gold, orange, and red. Jasmine realized she was more than a little happy that he would be seeing Ruthorford at its best. Black painted fences snugged the curve of rolling pastures where horses grazed. High upon a hill a red barn with white trim proclaimed its southern heritage.

They passed more farms and crossed several bridges before the country road widened into a four lane highway.

Within minutes, he found himself in a bustling center of commerce—divided highways, concrete walkways, lights. He’d gone from country back roads to major shopping in no time.

Jasmine pulled into a parking lot. “Just need to run in here for a moment. Be right back.”

“Is this Ruthorford?”

“Oh, no.” She darted into the store.

Eryk
got out of the car and stretched. Going from cockpit to car left his muscles cramping. He started to follow her into the large electronics store when something caught his eye and he walked around the side of the building instead. Old tombstones stood upright in a small area fenced off by black wrought iron fencing. The asphalt of the shopping center stopped abruptly at the ornate gate, turning into a small gravel drive that barely accommodated one car. It wound through the tiny cemetery and then led back to the gate.

“Oh, there you are,” Jasmine called and walked over to join him.

He nodded toward the cemetery. “What gives?”

She shrugged. “In Georgia, cemeteries are grandfathered. You don’t move the cemetery. You build around it.
”

“But it’s small,” he
commented.

“I’ve seen smaller—stuck right in the middle of a development. One or two graves, fenced in.
They don’t do this where you’re from?”

“You know…I don’t know,” he said and turned back toward the car.

“Well, we better get back on the road. I want you to see Ruthorford before it gets dark.”

She took him into town
by way of her favorite route, across the bridge near the Abbott Bed and Breakfast. She smiled as they passed the small chapel next to the grand inn. Pots of orange and purple blossoms lined the steps leading to the wrap-around porch of the Abbott Bed and Breakfast. The summer white rockers had been replaced with black ones, one of the little seasonal touches Teresa liked to do. She could almost see Teresa standing on the porch, waving, as she used to do when Jasmine would come home from college. Right now, the porch was empty. “That’s where you’ll be staying. We’ll drive through town and come back.”

They passed the tiny Victorian post office. Brenda
, the postmistress since forever, had already decorated the front in fall colors. She slowed to a crawl as they passed The Shoppe of Spells, the afternoon light twinkling off the bottles and stones that decorated the front windows. Jasmine pointed out her shop directly opposite, across the median. In the middle of the median the fountain’s water shot up, its spray wetting the pots of chrysanthemums encircling it.

T
wo older women were walking down the sidewalk in front of her shop. She waved. They waved back, stopped, and stared, long after the SUV had passed.

“An interesting pair,” Eryk turned back to her
, having turned in his seat to watch them lean into one another, talking and gesturing with their hands.

Jasmine glanced up into the rear view mirror and smiled. They were still pointing and talking. She could almost hear them.
“That’s Miss Grace and Miss Alice. They’re sisters. They’ve been around forever. No one makes pies like Miss Grace. You’ll get a taste, I’m sure, at the bed and breakfast. And news of your arrival will soon be all over town.”

“Gossips?”

“More like the top of the phone tree,” she laughed.

They passed more shops and came to where the median narrowed. There
, Jasmine stopped to swing the car into a U-turn and head back down the other side to the inn.

“Where’s your house
?”

She hesitated a fraction of a second before she pointed past him, toward the
far end of town. “A little ways that way. But, I live above my shop.”

Jasmine pulled in front of the bed and breakfast and was just coming around the front of the
vehicle when Teresa came running down the steps, her arms wide. “It’s so good to see you,” Teresa called and pulled Jasmine into a tight hug.

Eryk watched the shorter woman wrap Jasmine in a warm embrace.
Shorter and more muscular, she resembled Jenn more than Jasmine, down to the bouncing waves of hair, streaked with white.

Jasmine, laughing
, hugged her back, and inhaled. Teresa smelled of herbs and fresh bread. She closed her eyes, embracing the memory. The scents of home.

Allowing one last squeeze, she stepped back. “Teresa, I’d like you to meet Eryk Vreeland.”

Although she’d been forewarned of his resemblance to Dorian, all Teresa could say was, “Oh, my.” When Eryk offered a smile and his hand, she stepped past it and put her arms around him. “You’re family.” She hugged him and spoke softly, warmly. “Welcome home.”

His hug was tentative.
This woman seemed convinced that he was something he wasn’t so sure about. Yet, he could sense her sincerity. Well, two could play at this game. When she stepped back, he smiled and looked deep into her eyes, studying her reaction. His eyes didn’t bother her in the slightest.

“Wow
! And I thought Dorian was handsome.” She patted him on the arm and placed herself between the two of them. Linking arms, she led them back up the steps. “We’ll get your bags later. Come on in. I want Bill to meet you. Then I’ll get you settled in.”

Eryk glanced back down the road toward
The Shoppe of Spells, almost compelled. No one was about. His eyes wandered across the median, taking in the splendor of the town. It really was beautiful. Norman Rockwell beautiful. He turned his attention back to the two women on his left.

Although the weather had begun
its cool-down, it was still warm enough that guests of the inn were moving out onto the wrap-around front porch, taking in the view and enjoying the cool breeze. Several smiled at them as they passed. Ever the gracious hostess, Teresa smiled and said hello, pausing briefly to announce that her cousin has come home for a visit and if they needed anything, just ask at the desk.

“You go on,” someone called. “We can find our way around. Besides, you’ve always got everything so taken care of, we
don’t need a thing.”

Teresa glanced back. “Why, thank you Miss Jill. We’ll see you at dinner.”

Eryk opened one of the beautiful double doors, the Victorian wood arching gracefully around a large pane of glass. They stepped into the huge foyer/lobby. Scents of herbs and baked goods wafted from the dining area.

A tall man stepped through the door, wiping his hands on an apron. “Well, that about takes care of the
late lunch crowd,” he beamed.

“Not quite yet,” Teresa pulled them over.

“Jasmine,” his deep voice resonated as he pulled her into a bear hug, lifting her off the floor.