Summer Of My Secret Angel (15 page)

“Bugger!” Yesterday’s labor in the field had
worn me out. The last thing I remembered was having to rest my head
for one minute. I must have fallen asleep while writing the
note.

My stuffed backpack waited in the corner
next to the door. Damn, all I wanted was to get away from this
place. But here I was, stuck in my aunt’s house, trapped for
another day with the dragon.

“No, no, no!” I banged my fist on the desk,
sending the pen flying in a high arc to the floor.

My glance skated over the clock on my
nightstand. I should have set the alarm. Falling asleep had ruined
my chance at freedom for another day.

Tonight I’d be more careful, making no
mistakes. I needed to get out of this place and fast.

Downstairs, I greeted everyone with a long
face on my way to the door. Not even Marie’s beaming smile could
melt my ice-cold glare, and I shrugged off Julian’s questioning
tilt of the eyebrow with a sneer.

And then I bounced into
her
.

Charlene came in through the front door
right as I wanted to walk outside. A big blue book slipped from her
hands and dropped to the tiles. It flapped open somewhere in the
middle. My hands fisted, and a grumble rolled from my chest,
filling the hallway.

The dragon beamed. “Good morning, Jona.”

Oh, get the hell out of my way or I’ll put a
stop to that happy grin with my bare hands.

I wanted to step over the book on the floor,
which on second glance happened to be a photo album. The glimpse of
one particular picture made me freeze.

The photo was of me—in front of this very
house.

Sneaking up on me to take pictures? Damn her
to hell.

Marie huddled next to us to gather the book
for my mother. She rose with joyous surprise on her face. “Where
did you find this?”

Charlene cut a glance to her sister. “It was
one of the few things I took with me when I ran away. I must have
thumbed through this book a thousand nights.” Her sickly soft voice
made me want to puke.

“Look,
chérie
.” My aunt turned with
the open album in her hands. “That is me and your mother when we
still were young. Oh Charlene, you must have been Jona’s age
here.”

My stomach dropped to the floor as I looked
at the photo she pointed out. The faded color proved it was taken
many years ago, but I would have sworn that was me standing outside
the door smiling for the camera. The same dark red hair wafted
around the girl’s face, the same eyes stared at me. The red dress
and white pumps looked stupid on me though.

“I cannot believe how much Jona resembles
you in your younger days.” Marie’s words made me sick with
repulsion.

“Come on, you two. Let’s go to the front
room and look at these pictures together.”

Or, you could grab a gun instead and shoot
me in the head.

I gave both women a wry look. “I don’t think
so.” Bad enough that I looked exactly like the dragon in her
younger days, but there was definitely no chance I would sit and
reminisce with them about the “good old days” and notice every
bloody detail of our resemblance.
No way in hell!

Careful not to brush against my mother, I
stepped past her and escaped into the morning breeze. Deep breaths
calmed my anger only a little as I leaned against the wall.

Birds flew across the flawless sky. Another
hot day in the dragon’s den. I really needed to get away from here.
The farther I could get from my mother, the better. Did she
honestly think she could just enter my life and expect us to be
best friends? As if the past twelve years never happened?

Marie came out a little while after me, and
together we walked to the field. I appreciated the silence between
us.

Out in the vinery, my pacifying song crept
to my mind, the one I didn’t know the title of. I began humming,
and the notes of this haunting melody stayed with me all
morning.

As promised, Albert instructed me on how to
use the cell phone-sized device to make scans of the dirt. For the
simple purpose of distracting me from thinking about the unhappy
meeting with my mother that morning, I wanted to get my hands on
the gadget with the round keypad and a bright screen.

But my failed prison escape chewed me up
inside. Pebbles bounced off my boot as I kicked the dirt. No matter
what, I had to stay awake long enough tonight to pull off Houdini’s
grand disappearing act.

Since Julian was assigned to “cheer me
up”—and I’d heard Marie use those particular words before she had
sent him off with me—his short trips back and forth to the house
and the field didn’t escape my attention. If this was his way to
perk me up, I could very well do without his help. What was he
doing anyway? Serving the dragon another lamb for her to roast?

And yet, I found myself staring after him,
every time he excused himself for a few minutes. I kept my face
emotionless, but inside I screamed at him not to leave. Confusion
and doubt were my permanent friends.

In the evening, I ate my gumbo extra fast. A
headache provided a good excuse from the chitchat.

Aunt Marie bid me goodnight at the bottom of
the stairs. “Too much work is not becoming you.” She reached for my
hand to squeeze it tight. “Tomorrow, you will not be going out to
the vineyard.”

Oh, how right you are
.

Inwardly, I sneered. But at the same time,
the loss of my new family slung a noose of barbwire around my
heart.

“You need to recover,
chérie
,” she
went on. “And it is the weekend, so we will find something nice to
do, just you and me.” The corners of her mouth lifted. “How does
this sound?”

It sounds great!
Bile in my throat
stopped me from slamming the lie right into her face. I pulled my
hand away.

But it’s not a lie, and you know that.

Damn that better part of me and its
inclination to talk back.

I locked my confusion out and nodded once
then turned on the spot to run up the stairs. Safely over the
threshold of my room, I slammed the door shut and leaned against
the cool wood. A sigh puffed through my half-parted lips. My gaze
wandered heavenward. “God, let me get out of this house before I go
insane and change my mind.”

I rushed to the bathroom to shower off the
sweat and dirt from today’s work. Once clean and dressed in my
ragged jeans and an old black tee, I sat at my desk to rewrite
Marie’s letter. The paper folded twice, I tucked the message into
my notebook. Later, on my way out, I would leave the note on the
kitchen table.

Light dimmed outside. So this was it, I was
prepared to go. From my nightstand, I grabbed the alarm clock and
set it for midnight. Strange, how such a simple task took me over
three minutes. My throat tightened while I fumbled with the clock.
I would also close the windows tonight, so the noise of the alarm
wouldn’t wake Julian.

Julian.

My focus blurred. I drew back to a part of
my mind where I had saved his luscious scent. If only there was a
chance to smell the warm wild wind on him again. Just once more,
before I had to go.

My skin tickled at the memory of his touch.
I stroked my fingers over my wrist, the spot where he’d wrapped his
hand around me when he’d freed me from the cuffs outside Abe’s
office. An image of Julian’s lopsided grin flickered before my
eyes. The one that grew on me all too quickly.

I wished there was a way to say goodbye to
him. A letter would never do.

Swiveling on the chair, I took in the beauty
of my room one final time in the fading daylight. What a palace.
And I was turning my back.

A dull thud, like someone had dropped a
cutlet, snapped me out of my mulling. I walked to the open balcony
door. The moment I pulled the curtains aside, a sparrow took off
from the railing and gave me a start. It fluttered excitedly in
circles then shot up to the roof and out of my view.

Crazy birds
. The curtain slid from my
hand, but upset chirruping drew my gaze to the boarded floor. My
eyes grew wide, and my heart turned to pudding.

One step out on the balcony sat a young
bird. Cocking its small head this way and that, it never let me out
of focus. Its head was the only part moving, even when I squatted
on the threshold.

“What are you doing on my balcony? Can’t you
fly?” Very slowly, I moved my hand forward, but the bird hopped
back, its wings still folded at its sides.

“Don’t touch it,” my most favorite voice in
the world said, and a spray of bliss washed over me.

Julian approached on a gentle step. “It must
have fallen out of its nest. There is one right above your room.
Underneath the eaves.”

As he lowered to his knees, the bird
retreated to the corner of the banister where it got trapped.

“Can you bring me a towel from your
bathroom?” he asked.

“I don’t think the bird needs to be rubbed
dry. It needs a lift.”

Julian’s exhausted sigh came with an amused
half-smile. “Off you go.”

After a suspicious glance at him, I loped
off to fetch the terrycloth he wanted. “So, what are you going to
do with it?”

“I’m trying not to put my scent on the bird
when I set it back in its nest. The mother bird won’t accept her
chick if she smells a human on it.” He scooted forward and lowered
his hands with the towel in them so the bird could clearly see his
movements.

“Be careful,” I whispered.

Julian moved so nimbly and gracefully, he
would have been able to catch a wild horse out on the plains. All
the while, I held my breath until he’d cupped the bird with the
towel.

He turned and showed me the scared little
fella in his hands. “Its heart is drumming like a machinegun.”

I sighed, struggling against the impulse to
stroke the tiny bird’s fragile head. “What now?” My voice was
barely louder than a whisper.

“Time for the little runaway to go home.”
Julian surprised me when he tilted his head up and bent his knees
slightly. His stance suggested he was going to push from the ground
and fly like superman.

Someone was definitely crazy out here, and
it certainly wasn’t me. I cocked a brow and bit my tongue,
restraining from saying something stupid.

He straightened and avoided my stare,
clearing his throat. “Well,” he stammered with a sheepish
expression. “Could you bring the stool from over there so I can
climb to the nest?” He nodded his chin to his side of the balcony,
where an old wooden stool sat in the corner.

Panic gripped me. I stepped from the
threshold, back into my room, and clutched a hand to my chest.
Shaking my head, I felt the color drain from my face.

“Oh, right.” His gaze locked with mine, and
he exhaled through his nose while his lips curled. He looked so
cute when he searched for a solution. “Could you hold Tweety for a
moment?”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the
other. “I’ve never held a bird before.” And yet I strangely wanted
to.

“Don’t worry. You can do it.” He stepped
into my room and handed over the small bundle.

Very carefully, I moved to take the bird
from him. The tiny animal started rebelling and chirruped like I
was after its life, and I shrank back. “Oh dear, I guess it wants
back to you.”

Julian laughed. “The bird wants back to its
home. So we better hurry.” At my reluctance to hold it, Julian
shoved it toward me. “It’s okay. Just don’t squeeze.”

His hands cupped mine, and he waited until
the muscles in my clamped fingers relaxed. To be honest, it was
hard to relax at all with him holding me so tenderly.

“Okay, you got it. And always remember, the
bird fears you more.” He winked.

I was afraid I’d crush the animal with the
new rush of excitement swamping me.

While Julian slipped out to the balcony to
retrieve the stool, joy filled my chest that he trusted me with the
care of something as fragile as this bird. The sparrow’s dark
button eyes glinted. I felt the racing heartbeat Julian had
mentioned. The powerful sense of a protector surged through me.

“Let’s see if this works.” Julian had placed
the stool in front of my room and stepped on top. When he held out
his hand, I placed the bird-package into his palm. My own hands
trembled as I pulled them away from his.

He lifted the bundle over his head, growled
low, and rolled his eyes. “Stools, my arse.” In the next instant he
stuck the chick in front of my face. “Take it again for a
moment.”

“What’s the problem?” I said as I reached
for the bird.

“The chair is too small, I can’t reach the
nest. And since I can’t f—” He cut off and gave me a pointed
look.

Don’t even think about it.

Julian examined the square window right next
to the door that led from my room to the balcony. “Do you think you
can step onto the windowsill from inside your room?”

His encouraging gaze made me wonder if I
actually could be brave enough, just for him.

“You don’t have to lean out, just hold onto
the window frame. When I reach down give me the bird.”

“Reach down? From where?”

One swift move and Julian had hauled himself
onto the railing. A breath caught in my throat, my spine stiffened
with terror. “God, Julian, will you please get down?”

Not wavering an inch, he balanced along the
narrow wood plank. “Don’t worry. I won’t fall.”

I was too scared to lean outside and see
what exactly he was about to do. Through the window, I glimpsed his
feet lifting from the railing and figured that he’d pulled himself
onto the roof somehow. Seconds later, footsteps sounded through the
ceiling.

“Oh, this would all be so easy if…” he
muttered on the roof.

“If what?” If he could fly? I snorted.
Well, buddy, if you could, I’d say you applied for the wrong job
here in the vines.