The Secret Ingredient of Wishes (29 page)

They made it to the bed in three long strides. His boots thumped on the wood floor in time with her erratic heartbeat. He sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her bare back and finding her mouth with his. Unwinding her legs, Rachel straddled him and flipped open button after button on his shirt.

“Who's Lucy again?” she teased, the words vibrating against his mouth.

The muscles under her hands tensed. His eyes were suddenly a sharp, focused blue as he rested his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes and blew out a shaky breath.

“Rachel, I can't.” Ashe leaned back, dragging his hands through his hair. “I know I'm not with Lola anymore, but I'm technically still married and I just can't. It's my fault. You warned me about making a wish and I pushed you anyway. I should've known it would get out of hand.”

Disappointment shuddered through her. Her skin flushed as his words sank in.
He thinks I was going to sleep with him because of a wish. God, I'm an idiot.
Rachel eased off the bed without meeting his eye. She turned to retrieve her shirt and saw a hint of color draped over the top two steps. She reached for a pillow to cover herself but pulled back, not wanting him to see how much he'd affected her.

“You couldn't have told me that before you took off my shirt and threw it down the stairs?” She tried to dull the hardness in her voice with a smile.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Wrapping her arms around her waist, she turned away.

“You make it a little hard to think sometimes,” Ashe said.

“Then maybe you should watch what you wish for from now on.”

Rachel shivered, knowing her current state of undress had nothing to do with a wish and everything to do with simply wanting him.

 

29

Rachel vaguely remembered wishing as she fell asleep that she wouldn't get a hangover. Opening her eyes, she squinted against the early-morning sunlight streaming through the window. A slip of paper balanced on the window ledge above. She blew on it so it danced in the air before landing on the empty pillow next to her, confirming that she was the reason for her lack of a headache and queasy stomach that usually followed a night of drinking too much wine.

She also remembered Ashe's wish from the night before and how he'd ended things. “Thanks a lot,” she whispered and sat up.

After she'd dressed, she headed downstairs. The air in the foyer was a few degrees cooler than upstairs. The front door was propped open, letting in a trickle of a breeze and the buzzing of a lawn mower from a neighbor's yard. She stopped on the last step as the back door swished open and clicked softly back into place.

Ashe. Shit. What if things are weird between us after last night?

She glanced back up the stairs and contemplated hiding in her room until he'd gone. But that would definitely make things awkward, so she stayed put and listened as Catch greeted him.

“You look awfully chipper this morning, Mr. I-Snuck-Up-to-a-Girl's-Room-Last-Night-and-Thought-I-Didn't-Get-Caught,” Catch said.

“I know better than to think you don't know what goes on under your own roof,” Ashe said, his tone matching hers.

“Oh, stop your gloating and eat your damn breakfast.”

The floorboard at the base of the steps creaked when Rachel continued toward the kitchen.

“I think there's somebody here to see you,” Catch said. When Ashe turned toward Rachel, she added, “Wrong way, Romeo. This one's a ginger and is currently running circles in my backyard.”

His smile morphed from devastatingly sexy to pure joy before he pivoted to watch a dog playing outside. Her big paws dug into the ground as she darted in and out of the trees, sending tufts of grass and dirt into the air. Ashe eased off the stool, scooting it back so it screeched on the floor, and let out a short, sharp whistle. The dog skidded to a stop and met his stare through the window. She returned a playful bark and raced to the back door. He had it open before she launched herself up the two wooden steps. The dog pulled up short and sat, tail thumping, on the doormat. She lifted her right paw in greeting. Ashe knelt and buried his face in her copper fur. He scratched and rubbed and nuzzled. She nibbled on his hair in return.

Rachel laughed as she watched them from where she'd stopped in the middle of the kitchen. Catch raised one thin, gray eyebrow. The creases around her mouth deepened as she laughed too.

“I was wondering when Carol Ann would send her back. I thought she was holding her prisoner to try and force you and Lola to reconcile?” Catch asked.

“She was,” he said with his face still pressed into the dog's neck.

“Guess your brother'll be along in a few minutes too.” Catch got out a fresh plate and sliced another piece of pie.

“I'd expect so. Don't think she drove herself here, unless that's part of the wish.” When Ashe stopped petting the dog, she nudged his hand with her muzzle. “I missed you too,” he said to her.

“I don't remember you wishing for a dog,” Rachel said.

He looked up then, his eyes locking on hers over his shoulder. “This is Lucy. Lola exiled her to my mom's a year ago because it turns out she's not a dog person. Apparently Lucy's been set free. That makes two wishes I'm incredibly grateful for. Even if the second one got put on hold.”

Stuffing her hands in her back pockets, Rachel ignored the nerves dancing in her stomach at the implied promise of the wish getting fulfilled at some point. “Good for her.”

“Good for me.” He rubbed his hands under Lucy's jaw, shaking her whole head. Her tags clanked against the metal ring on the collar. Her floppy ears flapped up and down.

Ashe stood, taking his hand off Lucy. She barreled past him into the kitchen and leaped at Rachel. He wasn't quick enough to stop her from placing both paws on Rachel's shoulders and licking her face.

Rachel stumbled back a step. Catching a hand on the edge of the counter, she gripped it as the dog pressed her wet nose to Rachel's neck.

“Apparently she likes our girl,” Catch said.

“She's a smart dog.” He snapped his fingers, and Lucy dropped back to the floor. Her tail whacked his shins when he strode to her, grabbed her collar, and tried to pull her back outside. “Stubborn as all get-out, but smart.”

Rachel wiped at the wet spot on her neck. “It's not hard to see where Lucy gets her manners,” she said. She tugged her shirt back down when Ashe stared at the exposed skin below her belly button.

“She better get her furry butt out of my kitchen before I swat her,” Catch said. She raised a wooden spoon and smacked it against her bony hand a couple times.

“You heard her,” Ashe said. He gave Lucy another rough tug, maneuvering her back outside. He held his hand up for her to sit. She turned her hopeful brown eyes up at Rachel and let out a short bark. “I'm pretty sure that was a ‘thank you.'”

“You're welcome,” Rachel said. Ashe ran off after Lucy, his laugh and her barks filling the backyard.

*   *   *

The park was packed with tents and tables and people selling fresh fruit, vegetables, breads, bottled marinara sauces and handmade pasta, fresh-cut flowers, organic dog treats, and pies. Rachel would've skipped the farmers' market altogether if Catch hadn't nearly passed out as she loaded the pies into the back of her car that morning.

While Rachel emptied the trunk and backseat, Catch sat in a folding chair glaring at her and mumbling under her breath about how she wasn't an invalid and she could handle selling her own damn pies by her own damn self.

Rachel ignored her. She suspended the chalkboard listing the flavors and prices from the back legs of the tent.

People nodded to Rachel from across the sidewalk and whispered thanks as they squeezed through the crowd that encircled the tent. They stopped in front of her, touching her hand, her arm as they told her she was welcome to stay in Nowhere as long as she wanted. Only one in every five who came to their booth actually wanted a pie. She didn't know who all the wishes she'd granted a few nights before belonged to. She wasn't even sure everyone who thanked her had been a recipient of her gift. But they all seemed to know that she was responsible for returning every plot of land that had been sold under false pretenses to Max Riley back to the original owners. And not one of the wishes had gone wrong.

“Well, aren't you Miss-Queen-of-the-Market today?” Catch asked between customers.

“I kinda gave in and made some wishes come true.”

“Some?”

“Okay, a lot. But in my defense, there was wine involved. And guilt. A whole lot of guilt. I guess I just figured what's the point of being able to do what I do if I don't actually do it.”

“Told you.” Catch's low chuckle morphed into a wracking cough. She held up one hand to keep Rachel away. Her eyes were watering by the time the fit passed.

She handed Catch a bottle of water but knew better than to ask if she was okay. “I'm just glad I could help them. And that Ashe won't have to.”

“That makes two of us.”

They lapsed into silence again as more people flooded the tent. The wishes accumulated in her pockets and littered the ground. Despite the breeze, the paper never blew farther than the tent entrance.

Rachel tried harder to sell the pies.

As she handed a middle-aged woman the last peach-raspberry, she glanced into the crowd. A man with a familiar smile caught her eye. Suddenly dizzy, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she reopened them, he was still there, less than a hundred feet away. The guy she saw on her first morning in Nowhere, whom she'd mistaken for Michael. The words of the customers in line turned to a low buzzing in her ears. She grasped the pole to keep steady and stared into the throng of faces looking for the one she'd recognized a moment before.

She found him on the edge of the park, skirting a group of girls who all smiled at him. He sent them a sheepish grin and disappeared into the crowd.

Michael.

Rachel's pulse raced. She waited one second, two for him to come back. When he didn't, she elbowed her way through the line of customers. Catch called after her but she didn't respond. She had to find him.

When she reached the spot where he'd disappeared, she paused. Looking left and right, she found a wall of people, faces she didn't know. Then she spotted him again, working his way through the crowd. His deep brown hair was curling at the ends from the heat. He headed to the outskirts of the market, weaving in between tents and people, and was gone again. She chased after him, not caring when she bumped into someone or stepped on a foot. She ignored the questions and curses. She ignored the frantic thumping in her chest until the stitch in her side forced her to stop running. She looked around, desperate to find him.

He was gone. Again.

She groped for the back of the splintery bench she'd stopped next to and collapsed onto it. She thought she heard someone call her name, but her head was too heavy to lift. Hunched over, she hugged her thighs, her fingers digging into the soft grass beneath the bench.

“Breathe, girl. You're gonna pass out if you don't get ahold of yourself.”

“I … can't,” Rachel managed. She closed her eyes as Catch sat next to her and patted her back.

“You don't seem like the type to hyperventilate over nothing, so why don't you tell me what's going on.”

She took one ragged breath, then another before she said, “I saw him. I followed him, Catch. He's here. I didn't imagine him. He's here.”

“Who did you see?” Catch asked.

“My bro—” Rachel whipped her head up. Her vision spun. Everything was a mishmash of grass and concrete, leaves and flesh.

Catch's hand slipped from her back. “Well, don't stop on my account. That was starting to sound interesting.”

“I saw Michael. My brother.”

“Oh.”

Rachel's hands shook so she balled them between her knees. “I wished he'd get lost when we were little. I didn't mean it, not literally. Not permanently. But I did it and he was gone. Just like that. I was the only one who remembered him. My parents thought I'd made him up. And sometimes I thought I had too.”

“How old was he when you made your wish?”

“Four.”

“And you haven't seen him since, until today?” Catch asked. Her eyes narrowed on something across the square, but when Rachel followed her line of sight, she only saw Ashe watching them from the front window of Everley's shop. Catch held up a hand, letting Ashe know to leave them alone.

Looking away, Rachel said, “I thought I saw him the morning Ashe took me around downtown. I tried to follow him but he disappeared just like today.”

Catch swore under her breath. “He left town that day.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Wait, you know who he is?” She gripped Catch's skinny wrist, and the old woman looked at her with her mouth twisted into a frown.

“There was a little boy who suddenly arrived in town years ago, just walking down the road. He didn't remember his name or where he was from. And he had no idea how he got to Nowhere.”

Rachel's breathing had almost returned to normal as she replayed Catch's words in her head. She released Catch and scanned the crowd for her brother again. “He was here the whole time? Living in Nowhere?”

“Seems that way,” Catch said, shaking her head. Rachel noticed how gaunt Catch's face was, her skin pale despite the heat. She worried that Catch still seemed sick and briefly thought about telling Ashe, but then Catch continued, pushing the thought from Rachel's mind. “A family took him in when no one came looking for him. He's had a good life. Not perfect, but good. He's a happy kid who thinks he's always been a part of his family.”

Rachel swallowed past the lump in her throat and she asked, “Who is he? Please tell me where to find him.”