A Touch of Magick (18 page)

But it was more than sex and that was what was bothering him the most. He’d never felt more in tune with a woman. She was smart and funny. She was also nuts. He swore under his breath and then had to apologize to Mrs. Grady, who just stared at him as he pushed his cart farther up the aisle.

A witch. Who the heck even believed in witches and magick? That was all fantasy and fiction.

“Hey, buddy.”

He glanced up and found Jed watching him with concern in his eyes. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just distracted.”

Jed laughed. “The grocery store can do that to a man.”

Ryland grinned ruefully. It was true. It was amazing how many single women tried to chat him up in the grocery store. Today he was so deep in thought he hadn’t noticed anyone.

“Any news on Rhiannon Sparks’s case?” In the back of his mind, he figured if there was news, it would only be right for him to tell her in person. It would be the professional thing to do. Not that he needed an excuse to see her.

Jed shook his head. “Nothing concrete. It’s the same style and signature of a few other cases of vandalism. If we catch the culprit, we can tie him in to a bunch of these crimes.”

They both knew the chances of catching the graffiti artist were slim to none unless they got lucky. Ryland nodded. “Do you believe in magick?” He wasn’t even aware he was going to ask the question before it was out of his mouth. Jed and he went back a long ways and he trusted the other man like a brother.

Jed’s eyes narrowed as he studied Ryland. “Why do you ask?”

Ryland shrugged, not wanting to get too specific. For some reason, he felt the need to protect Rhiannon’s reputation. Especially after the graffiti incident. If word got out that she truly believed she was a witch, she might find herself the target of more than just vandalism. It might even escalate to physical violence. The thought burned like acid in his gut.

Jed glanced down the aisle. “Why don’t we get checked out and go grab a coffee?” Ryland followed his friend’s gaze and realized Mrs. Grady was halfway down the aisle, pretending to be shopping while she tried to overhear their conversation. Neither of them had spoken loud enough for her to hear, but he didn’t want to take a chance.

“Good idea.” As Ryland wheeled his cart to the front of the store, he snagged a few more items off the shelves. Whatever he missed, he could pick up later.

The woman running the checkout was one he’d gone to school with. Kathy March, or Kathy Bragg now that she’d married and settled down. She was also a talker. She told him about her two kids and asked about his dad. He answered in monosyllables so as not to encourage her. That didn’t matter a whit to Kathy. She chattered on while she scanned and bagged his groceries. She was fast and efficient, for which Ryland was grateful.

When his groceries were paid for, he loaded them into his cart and wheeled them out into the parking lot, stowing them in the passenger seat of his truck. Jed was already in his SUV and pulled up behind him. “Meet you at Clancy’s.”

“I’m right behind you.” Clancy’s was a local bakery that served soup and sandwiches as well as an array of baked goods. It was popular with the locals and tourists alike, but at this time of the afternoon it wouldn’t be too busy. The lunch rush was over and the kids weren’t out of school yet. Perfect timing.

Ryland drove the short distance to Clancy’s and found a parking spot close by. He locked up the truck and strode up the sidewalk. Jed had beat him there and was waiting at the door. Both men walked inside and ordered coffee and a thick slab of hot apple pie. By mutual agreement, they carried their food to a table in a quiet corner of the shop.

They settled in and both men took a few mouthfuls of pie. Ryland almost moaned as the sweet and spicy tang of apples and cinnamon hit his tongue. It reminded him of Rhiannon. Hot, sweet and spicy all at the same time. He choked as he tried to swallow and had to grab some coffee to help wash it down. Damn, he couldn’t even eat without the woman invading his thoughts. This had to stop.

Jed watched, his gaze thoughtful as he pushed his plate away, the piece of pie only half-eaten. He took a sip of his coffee and set his mug back on the table in front of him. “You want to know if I believe in magick?”

“Yes.” Ryland forgot about the pie and coffee sitting in front of him, his entire focus on the man sitting across from him.

“I’m part Native American and part Irish.” He paused and shook his head. “I was born believing in the unbelievable. Why?”

Ryland hesitated, not wanting to betray Rhiannon in any way.

As if Jed sensed his unease, he leaned forward. “It goes no further than here.”

He nodded. “What if someone you knew told you they were a witch?”

“A woman?”

Ryland nodded. He glanced around the bakery to make certain no one was close enough to hear anything they said. He leaned in closer. “Rhiannon.”

“Ah.” Jed sat back in his chair and rested his hands on his stomach, a smile playing on his lips.

Ryland sat up straighter, all his senses on alert. He didn’t like the look on his friend’s face. It was too…interested. Rhiannon was his. “What the hell does that mean?”

Jed picked up his fork, broke off a piece of the apple pie and popped it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Now there’s a woman to make a man think about magick.”

He gripped his mug tight and forced himself to stay calm. He was jealous. Why the hell was he jealous about a woman he’d only been on two dates with? It wasn’t logical, but there was no denying the burning in his gut.

“I take it you’re not asking about a set of spiritual beliefs, but something more than that?”

“Yeah.” The lighting of all those candles in her room pushed the situation far past just a set of spiritual beliefs, although he had no idea if that was part of the deal for her or not.

“Ry,” Jed began. “There are more things in this world than we can see and hear and touch with our five senses. Call it magick, call it the paranormal, call it whatever you want. It exists.”

Picking up his mug, Ryland took a sip of his coffee and let the bitter brew slide down his throat. “I believe in what I can see or touch.”

Jed nodded. “Fair enough. But you asked me what I believed and I’m telling you. I believe some people have gifts, power, something extra. Whether that turns out to be a good thing or a bad thing depends on the individual.” He grinned. “I’ve often wondered if Rhiannon was fey. You can feel the power emanating from her. She looks like a fairy too.”

“Or a witch,” Ryland muttered.

“Or a witch,” Jed agreed. “The thing you have to ask yourself is what does it matter? How much do you like this lady?”

“That’s the question.” Ryland pulled his plate over and finished off his slice of apple pie before draining the rest of his coffee. His thoughts tumbling over in his mind, not lending themselves to any easy answers. Jed silently finished off his own snack and waited patiently.

“This has to do with your mother, doesn’t it?”

That was the problem with having a friend as good as Jed. They’d met when they were both kids and had fallen in together almost at once. They’d been through skinned knees, baseball practices, sleep outs and teenage angst together. Jed came from a stable, loving family, while Ryland’s home was anything but tranquil. “Partly.”

“Your mother was a weak woman who couldn’t deal with the real world. It wasn’t all her fault, but she didn’t try to help herself either.”

“I know.” It hurt him to admit it, but Ryland had often thought the same thing, blaming his father for being as much of the problem as his mother. They’d never sought help or treatment for her, preferring to keep it quiet and inside the family. It had been like dealing with an active volcano—never quite knowing when it was going to erupt.

“It’s not your fault, Ry. You were just a kid. It was your parents’ responsibility to do something to help the situation.” There was no pity in Jed’s eyes, only fact. Ryland was glad. He couldn’t stand being the object of anyone’s pity. He’d gotten enough of that from well-meaning teachers and adults when he was growing up. His parents might have thought they could hide his mother’s mental problems, but this was a small town and people talked.

“Could you picture your mother running her own business, being part of the business community?” Jed continued.

Ryland stopped and shook his head. The mere thought was impossible. His mother had been too fragile, too afraid of life, of everything. Rhiannon on the other hand was strong and fearless. She’d told him about herself, all the while knowing his reaction probably wouldn’t be a good one.

A heavy weight felt as though it had been removed from his shoulders. Jed had given him a lot to think about. “Thanks, Jed.”

“No problem. I didn’t really say or do much of anything.”

No, he hadn’t, but he had reminded Ryland of something important. Rhiannon wasn’t his mother and he wasn’t his father. Was he willing to lose Rhiannon over this? The answer should have been easy. They’d just met after all. But Ryland already felt the connection between them and knew deep in his gut that if he let her go he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

Shoving back from the table, he stood. “I gotta go.”

“Good luck,” Jed offered as he tipped up his mug to finish the last of his coffee.

“Thanks. I may need it.”

Chapter Twelve

Rhiannon wiped the back of her arm over her brow, ignoring the way her sweater clung to her torso. She was a hot, sweaty mess, but she was very pleased with her afternoon’s work. She surveyed the dining-room table with pride. It was lined with batches of six-inch candles—blue, green, pink, orange, yellow and red ones. Each had a different purpose. All were infused with magick.

Refusing to mope the entire day away, Rhiannon had called her mother and Grammy this morning to tell them about her breakthrough in her magick. Both women were thrilled, chattering excitedly over the phone lines. Both of them had wanted her to come home immediately so the entire family could celebrate. She’d put them off, citing her upcoming busy season, and promised an extended visit early in the New Year.

She hadn’t had the heart to tell them about Ryland. Neither woman had asked how her magick had been released. That in itself was telling. Rhiannon suspected Gwen had filled them in on the gory details and they were keeping quiet so as not to upset her further.

She could have told them it was a waste of time. She wasn’t likely to forget Ryland anytime soon. That, however, didn’t mean she didn’t have a responsibility to herself and her magick. This was an important moment in her life, one that needed to be celebrated and nurtured.

Her family had been a great source of help, suggesting simple ways for her to begin to test her magick, to stretch it and become more accustomed to using it. It would take time and practice, but she was pleased with her progress so far.

Today’s lesson was about infusing certain qualities into the candles she used for meditation, healing and other spell work. She was proud of the batch of candles she’d made this afternoon. She’d been making candles since she was a child, but today was different. It was more than just melting the wax, adding color and measuring essential oils to the mixture. This time the magick had flowed into each different color as she made them. She’d worked hard, infusing every single one with the right kind of magick.

A lone red votive sat in the center of the table. Rhiannon refused to admit she hadn’t been able to toss away the candle that had been instrumental in bringing Ryland to her. “Stop it,” she admonished herself. “You can’t change how Ryland feels about the situation. You can only control how you feel.” That was the truth, but it wasn’t easy to accept.

She’d vacillated between tears and anger all day. She’d had to pause several times while making candles when her eyes began to water, making it impossible for her to see what she was doing. Her eyes stung again, but she ignored it, blinking the fresh tears away. Crying did no good. It only served to make her eyes swollen and itchy and her nose red.

Abigail meowed and trotted into the room, twining around Rhiannon’s feet. “Hey, girl. Did you have a busy day?” Abigail had watched her make candles for the first half hour or so and had then disappeared to spend the afternoon in another part of the house. The cat had probably found a sunbeam in the living room to lie in. The October sun had been bright today.

The cat meowed again, brushing against Rhiannon’s legs before trotting over to the counter. Abigail paused and peered over her shoulder.

“I’m coming.” She shook her head, but couldn’t contain her smile. Someone should tell Abigail that Rhiannon was the owner, not the other way around. Unfortunately, Rhiannon had never gotten the courage to tell the cat that. When she thought about it, she wasn’t sure it was really true anyway.

“I made real progress today, Abigail.” The cat purred her praise as Rhiannon opened a can of gourmet cat food and poured it onto a china plate. “But now I’m a mess.” She set the plate on the floor and Abigail began to nibble.

Come to think of it, she’d been too upset to eat and had skipped lunch. She was still upset about Ryland, but she knew she had to eat something. “Shower first.” She glanced around the kitchen, which was spotless once again. “Hold down the fort,” she told Abigail as she headed down the hallway to her bedroom.

She shucked her clothing, tossing everything into the laundry hamper. When she was naked, she padded into the bathroom and straight into the shower. Her eyes felt slightly swollen and gritty from fatigue and, although she didn’t want to admit it, from tears as well.

Turning on the water, she adjusted it and stepped beneath the spray. Groaning with pleasure, she tilted her head back and let the water cascade over her face and body, washing away the worries of the day.

She quickly shampooed her hair and washed from head to toe, ignoring the tenderness in her breasts and the slight ache between her thighs, reminders of last night with Ryland. Leaning with one hand against the wall, she let the soap rinse away. She watched as it swirled around the bottom of the tub before slipping down the drain. If only she could get rid of all her problems so easily.