The Hidden Deep (14 page)

Kester was just opening the largest of his instrument cases, and both Zeke and Jude hovered excitedly to see what it contained. A cello made its appearance, and Zeke asked, “Can ya play it?”

“I can,” Kester replied.

“Can
I
play it?” the eight-year-old negotiated.

“You may make an attempt.”

“Cool!”

“Is it hard?” Jude wanted to know.

“Learning to play an instrument requires patience,” Kester said.

“Do you have to practice?”

“Yes.”

“Do you
like
to practice, or do you
hafta
practice?” Zeke asked.

“Both.”

“Lucky for you,” Jude said.

“I agree.”

While her little brothers plagued Kester with even more questions, Baird nudged Prissie with his elbow. “Surprised?”

“No one told me you were coming.”

“This was a very hush-hush operation,” he said conspiratorially. His gaze flitted briefly to her ear, and his mouth quirked. “That’s a regular bluebird of happiness riding on your shoulder.”

Immediately, Prissie brightened. “Taweel said it was okay.”

The redhead’s smile broadened. “Let me introduce you around.”

Prissie mumbled, “Sure,” but she was feeling pretty nervous. She didn’t know any musicians, and these people seemed so confident about their instruments. It made her wish she had their talent because it must be fun to play in a group with Baird.

“Kester you know,” the Worshiper said with a nod to his apprentice. “So ladies first. This is Mickie.”

The young woman seated on a box drum offered a warm, “Hey.”

“Hello,” Prissie said. She vaguely remembered the percussionist, whose hair was woven into at least a hundred tiny
braids that coiled against her neck and shoulders. Trying hard not to stare at the tiny gem that pierced Mickie’s nose, Prissie fumbled for something else to say. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m glad to meet you, too,” the drummer replied. “After Baird bragged on this place, we jumped at the chance to see it for ourselves.” With a smirk in the redhead’s direction, she added, “Baird bragged on
you
, too!”

Prissie blushed. “Is that so?”

Baird took the teasing in stride and touched Prissie’s elbow, leading her over to the two guys armed with guitars. “The tall one’s Sheldon,” he announced, gesturing to a balding man wearing a yellow sweater.

“You must be Prissie,” Sheldon said, offering his hand. “Nice place you have here!”

“Thank you.”

Moving right along, Baird said, “And Rick’s on bass.”

The wiry young man looked younger than the rest, perhaps college age. “Yo,” he said with a tight little smile before shaking her hand.

With the niceties covered, Baird led her to one side, and as soon as they were out of earshot, Prissie leaned close to whisper, “Does your band know you’re an angel?”

“Nope,” he replied softly.

“Oh.” She thought he looked a little sad.

“It’ll make a nice surprise someday. I hope.”

“You don’t think they’ll be mad?”

“They’ll probably think it’s funny. Or they’ll refuse to believe me.”

Searching for a safer topic, Prissie asked, “Why did Kester bring a cello?”

Baird grinned and waved at the barn rafters. “Because there’s plenty of room here for large scale music!”

“It’s a barn, not a concert hall,” she said.

“A rustic cathedral! We’ll run through our Sunday morning set, but we were planning to give
Messiah
a go, too. Kester’s going to fill in the symphonic gaps with that oversized fiddle. After all that, if you’re not ready to kick us out, we’ll take requests!”

“It sounds fun.” Glancing at her almost twin, she added, “Beau’s going to be in his glory.”

“Him and me both!” the Worshiper assured.

By the time the band was running through their first real sound check, Zeke sent up a cry. He’d spotted Jayce’s van coming up the driveway. The Pomeroy boys trooped out to help because Dad always brought home whatever was left over at closing time on Saturdays. Jayce hopped out and circled around the back to unload bread, pies, rolls, cupcakes … and one shifty-eyed apprentice.

“What’s
he
doing here?” Prissie muttered.

“Carrying stuff,” replied Neil with a teasing grin.

That much was obvious, for their father weighed Ransom down with half a dozen loaves, then pointed him toward the front door. Prissie couldn’t get over how
wrong
it was for these two parts of her life to collide. Ransom belonged at school, but somehow, he’d invaded the family bakery, and now her home. “I can’t believe he’s at my house!” she moaned.

“Hustle up and help!” called Jayce, lifting a large, white bakery box.

Milo patted Prissie’s shoulder on his way past and claimed the box, saying, “Good afternoon, Jayce! Thanks for inviting
me!” As he ferried it up the front walk, he met Ransom coming and going.

“Hey, Mr. Mailman.”

“Hey, Ransom,” the Messenger replied with an easy smile. “You really
can
call me Milo.”

“Right,” he agreed, then cast a wary look in Prissie’s direction.

She knew better than to be rude to a guest, especially with her father standing right there, so when Jayce handed off a box of muffins, she managed a polite nod to her classmate before escaping into the house. Prissie had a sneaking suspicion that her dad would consider
this
the perfect chance for her to apologize. “Why me?” she muttered dismally.

A tug on her hair yanked her attention away from her worries, and she glanced down in surprise at the little angel who swung from the end of her braid. In all the confusion, she’d forgotten about her passenger. Prissie’s expression immediately softened, and she murmured, “Today was supposed to be
fun
, right, Omri?” With a flicker of wings, he darted up and swooped around her head a couple times before settling on top of her head. Straightening her back, she marched into the house with her head held high. “I won’t let him ruin my day.”

Lunch was served, and the apple barn hardly seemed big enough to contain Baird’s enthusiasm, which was contagious. As it happened, Prissie found it much easier to enjoy herself than anticipated. It was incredibly hard to frown when tiny hands kept reaching down to pat the furrow that formed between her brows.

After the meal ended, Neil stepped up to play host, asking Ransom if he’d like a tour of the farm. As they walked out of
the barn together, Prissie could hear her older brother quizzing him on Joey Mueller’s progress. His teammate had been benched for the rest of the season because of a broken collar bone. Naturally, Jude tagged along, but he kept popping back into the apple barn to keep her posted. “He’s never been here before, even for apples!” he exclaimed.

“Maybe he doesn’t like apples,” she suggested.

The six-year-old’s eyes widened at the very thought. “That’d be
crazy
! Ransom said he wasn’t here for field trips either.”

“He’s from somewhere else, I think. And only just joined my class a couple years ago. The orchard is more of an elementary field trip.” Both Zeke and Jude had spent a half day touring their own backyard with their classmates earlier that fall.

“Where’d he come from?” Jude inquired.

“How would
I
know?”

The boy ran off, intent on finding the answer for himself. Grandma Nell and Momma returned from the kitchen with folding chairs and blankets and settled in to enjoy the rehearsal. Prissie drifted off to one side, a little further back from everyone else, because she wanted to play with Omri while she had the chance. His antics and Baird’s songs lifted her spirits.

She had just decided that nothing, not even Ransom, could spoil the amazingness of befriending a yahavim when her classmate returned with her brothers. While Neil went to get a closer look at Mickie’s box drum, Ransom hung back and drifted over to Prissie. To her dismay, he sat on the next bale over and said, “This place is pretty cool.”

“Yes, it is.” Fidgeting uncomfortably, she looked around for someone to rescue her, but Milo and Koji had joined Tad
and Zeke in the balcony section of the hayloft. The only person whose eye she was able to catch was her father’s, and Jayce only nodded approvingly. Folding her arms over her chest with a grumpy huff, she was caught off guard by Omri, who dropped down to nestle in the crook of her arm. Prissie smiled softly at the tiny angel’s sweet expression.

Ransom noticed and quirked a brow at her, and she colored slightly. That smile was meant for Omri, not him! Silence stretched awkwardly between them until he remarked, “The music’s not bad.”

“They’re a Christian group,” Prissie pointed out.

“Yeah. The lyrics kind of gave that away.”

Swallowing hard, she glanced over and mumbled, “About the other day. I’m sorry if I was rude.”

“If?” he challenged.

Squirming under his direct gaze, she grudgingly said, “I might have been out of line.”

“You think?”

“I’m
trying
to apologize!”

Ransom only shook his head and said, “Try harder.”

Flustered and frustrated, Prissie snapped, “What do you want from me?”

“Mostly nothing,” he replied. “But if you’re feeling generous, maybe half a chance.”

I
want another way in,” the dark figure growled.

Dinge and Murque exchanged nervous glances, and the latter cautiously inquired, “In
where
, my lord?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention?” he asked silkily.

“M-more or less,” the demon replied in ingratiating tones.

“Lots of places you’re wanting to get into lately,” said Dinge. “If you catch my meaning.”

Their superior sneered. “The girl is hemmed in on every side, but I can still reach her through those around her.”

Murque’s eyes took on an evil gleam. “The father’s a trusting fool.”

Dinge leered and added, “The brother’s at a difficult age.”

“Perhaps,” the Fallen mused aloud. “Look for an opening. There’s
always
an opening.”

When the regular football season ended, the West Edinton Warriors moved on to the playoffs, and without a Friday night game on the docket, Prissie was able to make plans for a different kind of fun. The social studies assignment was due next week, right before Thanksgiving break, so she invited April for a sleepover to give their group the chance to work on it.

It was by far the best project Prissie had ever been a part of, mostly because for once, she didn’t feel the need to do everything. April had bookmarked half a dozen search engines, and she wasn’t afraid to use them. Koji remembered everything he read, so he was able to bring up useful tidbits from the stacks of library books he’d read on their assignment. For her part, Prissie was good at giving the teachers what they wanted. Once the report was finished, she’d be the one to present it. They each carried their own weight, and it was coming together quickly.

“Want to take a break?” Prissie asked. They’d been working steadily since right after dinner, and she was ready for a change of pace. “We could make popcorn.”

“Yes!” April quickly agreed. “Homework always gives me a case of the nibbles.”

They found Neil at the kitchen table, munching his way through an apple while he read. Prissie did a double take. “Studying?” she asked incredulously.

“Kinda, yeah.”

“What class?” inquired April, plopping down across the table from him. She never minded being called nosy because it was a reporter’s job to be curious. Prissie thought April
might have made a decent Observer, except that her curiosity was a lot more in-your-face.

“Not a class,” Neil corrected, flipping over the book to show her the cover.

“That’s some pretty technical extracurricular reading,” April remarked.

“This is the manual first responders have to learn,” he explained. “Derrick Matthews loaned it to me.”

“So you’re interested in first aid?”

“Kinda,” he repeated. “It’s a good place to start.”

“If that’s your starting point, where are you headed?” April pried.

“I’m going to go into medicine.”

Prissie’s head whipped around, but her friend didn’t bat an eye at this pronouncement. “What kind? Are you talking neurosurgeon … pediatrician … veterinarian?”

“Nope. I’m going to drive ambulances.”

“Since when?” Prissie asked.

“Since
now
,” Neil replied with a careless grin.

In spite of a late night, both April and Prissie were awake early on Saturday morning. Soft sounds from the kitchen lured them down the back stairs where they found Grandma Nell already at work. Saturday breakfast was often her treat, and with both Neil’s play-off game that afternoon and April over, she was going the extra mile. The coffeepot was on, and she was just sliding some kind of cheesy potato bake into the oven.

“Blueberry pancakes?” Prissie asked, eyeing the ingredients her grandmother had set out.

“And sausages,” Grandma Nell confirmed. “Help yourself to juice.”

The girls padded over to the table with their glasses and joined Tad and Koji, who were polishing off cinnamon toast.

“You’re up early,” April said cheerfully.

“No more than usual,” Tad replied.

April pointed out, “It’s not a school day.”

“Tell that to the pigs and chickens,” the oldest Pomeroy boy replied with a small smile.

“I’m an early riser, too, but that’s because it’s the only way I can keep up with my dailies before school.”

Tad asked, “What’re dailies?”

April pulled out her cell phone and tapped the screen a few times before showing him the morning’s headlines. “I keep up with several blogs, a couple of forums, some web comics, all the major news feeds, and that doesn’t even begin to cover my emails, personal messages, tweets …” Tad’s expression showed April he wasn’t plugged in, and Prissie wasn’t much better. So she smoothly changed the subject, asking, “What kinds of chores do you have to do every day?”

“Koji and I will head into the back forty to take care of the pigs, and then I’ll give Judicious a hand with the chickens,” Tad replied. “The other usual stuff can wait until after Neil’s game.”

“Oh! I remember when your grandpa used to give us rides around the orchard behind his tractor,” April said. “Do you remember that?”

“Sure,” Prissie said with a smile. When it came to impressing little girls, her Grandpa Pete was a real pushover.

Tad glanced between the girls. “If you bundle up, I’ll hitch
the trailer to the quad. It’s not the same as Grandpa’s hay wagon, but we should have time for a little tour.”

“You probably have an hour and a half before breakfast is ready,” said Grandma Nell, giving the four of them an encouraging smile. “There’s nothing like morning air to give you a healthy appetite!”

April’s eyes took on a shine, and she glanced at Prissie. “Let’s?” she begged.

“Sure! Prissie readily agreed. Her friend was obviously very excited, and it
would
be fun. Prissie didn’t mind because, more than any of the others, April had stuck by her.

When they reached the machine shed a few minutes later, Tad had the quad ready to go. Its trailer was square with low sides, and Tad had tossed a couple of old blankets in the bottom, not that they’d do much good. Prissie knew from experience that they were in for a bumpy ride. Still, it was a nice gesture.

April clambered aboard. “Thanks so much!”

“We’re heading out that way anyhow. I don’t mind the extra company.” Tad swung his leg over the four-wheeler’s wide seat.

Prissie stepped over the side and settled down next to April, and Koji climbed in with them. The young angel seemed to have gone back into silent Observer mode, for he tucked his knees to his chest and simply listened as the girls swapped memories of the games of hide-and-seek they’d played out here when they were younger.

Their breath showed on the morning air, and frost glazed the grass that hadn’t been touched by the sun. All but the most stubborn leaves had dropped from the apple trees, and here and there, Prissie could see odd pieces of shriveled fruit
clinging to a branch. Even over the exhaust from the quad’s rumbling motor, she could smell the sweetness of fallen fruit, the apple scent that defined home for all the Pomeroys.

Just as they reached the pig shed, which had an odor all its own, Prissie noticed that Koji’s mood had changed, so when April hurried to the fence to admire their porkers, she nudged him and whispered, “Are you okay?”

His gaze darted upward, and he quietly admitted, “There are a lot of things going on right now.”

“Things?” she asked worriedly.

“Fear not,” he said with a reassuring smile. “There are many protecting us.”

When Koji finished with his responsibilities to the pigs, Tad urged everyone into the trailer so their tour could continue. “We’ll take the scenic route back to the house,” he said, putting the quad into gear and driving toward the far end of their land.

Prissie glanced around curiously, wondering what Koji was seeing, and she noticed that Tad was checking out the vicinity with just as much care. The eighteen-year-old sat tall and systematically looked over the trees, keeping an eye out for signs of pests, disease, and damage. If he was anything like Grandpa Pete, he was probably also deciding which branches he would prune next time he came through.

When they reached the top of the last hill, the quad sputtered and stalled. “Huh, that’s odd,” Tad muttered as he hopped down. “Gimme a sec to check it over.”

While he popped open the covering on the engine and began to tinker, April climbed out of the trailer and stretched. “What a view! I didn’t realize you were this close to the fairgrounds!” She pointed down the gently sloping hill
to the outbuildings that lay between the Pomeroy’s land and Sunderland State Park.

Prissie joined her friend, replying, “Yes, we’re next-door neighbors.”

“How far are we from your house?” April asked curiously.

“From here, it’s probably almost two miles,” Tad replied, not looking up from his tinkering.

While he rattled off boundaries, Koji edged closer to Prissie, and his fingers silently found hers.

Meanwhile, April said, “I guess I didn’t realize your place was that big.”

“The orchard and farm have been in the family for a lot of years,” Tad explained. “When adjoining properties went up for sale, we bought them. This section is part of the original orchard, and the newer parts are along the highway. There’s enough wiggle room for both me and Judicious to stay busy.”

April admired the acres of fruit trees. “You have it all figured out!”

“It’s not so hard with a family business,” Tad said.

Prissie only listened to Tad and April with half an ear. “Is something wrong?” she whispered. Koji shook his head, then nodded toward the base of the hill. She followed his gaze in time to see a figure step through the trees from a neighboring row and walk their way. “Who’s that?” she asked a little too loudly.

Tad straightened from his work and frowned. “We’re not close to much of anything out here. I should see if he needs help.”

The teen started forward, but the oncoming hiker waved him back and called out, “Wait there, please! I’ll come to you!”

Prissie stared hard at the man working his way uphill. He wore a nondescript denim jacket and carried a simple hiking stick, but even from a distance she recognized his hair. Thick black braids hung on either side of his face. “Padgett?” she gasped.

“You know him?” Tad asked curiously.

“He’s … I met him on our last field trip.”

“He is one of the rangers at Sunderland State Park,” supplied Koji helpfully.

“Oh, that makes sense,” Tad murmured, stepping forward with hand extended.

Padgett accepted the greeting. “Good morning. I was admiring your trees and thought to see the view from this slope. I apologize for trespassing on your land.”

“No harm done,” the oldest Pomeroy boy replied amiably.

“Hello again, miss,” the Caretaker said, a smile lurking in his dark eyes. “Koji,” he added with a nod.

“Padgett, this is my brother, Tad, and my friend, April. Aren’t you a long way from the park?”

“Not so far,” the ranger replied, glancing back toward state land. “My ramble brought me over more boundaries than I realized. Are you having trouble?”

“Oh, nothing serious,” Tad said. “Even if I can’t get the quad running, it’s a nice day for a walk.”

“I can attest to that.” Padgett nodded at the four-wheeler. “I would offer to help, but I know little or nothing about mechanical things.”

“I’m pretty good with this stuff,” Tad assured. “Something probably jiggled loose.”

“Show me?” the ranger asked.

“Well, sure,” the teen agreed, returning to the open case
to poke at the motor. “It’s usually something small, so I was checking everything over.”

“I see.”

April joined them while Tad performed minor surgery. “Do you really know what you’re doing?” she asked.

“Sure. Part of the job. Let’s see if that did the trick. Start her up, Prissie?” She hopped onto the seat and hit the starter, and the engine turned with a cough and a rumble.

“Nice!” April exclaimed.

Tad nodded in satisfaction and closed everything up, then cast a critical glance at the angle of the sun. “We should probably skip the scenic route and head straight back to the house. Knowing Grandma Nell, they’ll hold breakfast for us.”

The Caretaker moved to stand between them and the boundary. “Yes, that would be best.”

“Would you like a ride?” Tad offered.

“Thank you, no,” Padgett replied with a scant smile. “I’ll find my way back to where I belong.”

“If you say so,” the teen said. “It was nice to meet you, Padgett.”

“Likewise, Tad,” the Caretaker replied, nodding to each of them in turn. “Koji. April. And Prissie, it was good to see you again, miss.”

“You, too,” she murmured, wishing she knew what was going on.

“Have a pleasant day,” Padgett said, then strode down the hill at a steady pace.

Tad turned the quad around, and once everyone piled back into the trailer. He made a beeline for home. It wasn’t until they were hurrying up the front walk that Prissie had the chance to whisper to Koji, “What was that all about?”

“The boundary is a place of unrest,” the young Observer replied seriously. “Padgett redirected us.”

“Why?”

“The path we were on led into danger.”

Over breakfast, April was in what her friends called her interview groove. Conversation at the table seemed to revolve around her, but not because she was doing all the talking. Rather, she was asking all the questions.

For a while, she quizzed Tad on his college plans and discussed the pros and cons of the various universities that offered agricultural degrees. Prissie was amazed that April managed to draw the eighteen-year-old out enough to talk about
anything
, since he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Then, she turned around and dragged Grandpa into the discussion by asking him if he thought it was more important to know how to take apart an engine than it was to earn a degree.

Fleetingly, Prissie wondered about the attention April was paying to her big big-brother, but just as quickly, her friend turned to Jude, wanting to know the current retail value of farm fresh eggs. The next minute, she switched gears and asked Neil about the upcoming football game and the statistics of the other team’s quarterback. From there, she talked to Grandma Nell about the difficulties of raising blueberries in their region.