Meadow's Keep (The Gatekeepers Series) (8 page)

She laughed, hugging tight around his neck. “Bill,
you old coot, I’ve missed your hugs.”

He laughed, put her down and turned to Eryk, extending his large hand, laughter still in his eyes.
“Bill Ruthorford.”

Eryk took it and felt a surge.
However, this one he couldn’t place. “Eryk Vreeland. Pleased to meet you.” It took everything he had not to pull his hand away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jasmine studying the older man, a small frown passing fleetingly over her eyes before it was gone.
This is Teresa’s husband?
He hoped his astonishment couldn’t be read in his expression.

“Have you two eaten? Of course not,” he said and led them into the dining room. “Let’
s sit over here.” He led them over to a table overlooking the side garden and held the chair for his wife, while Eryk pulled out Jasmine’s. “I’ll be right back.” He headed into the kitchen.

He’d barely passed th
rough the doors when Jasmine spoke, “Teresa, why didn’t you call me? What’s wrong with Bill?”

Teresa’s shoulders visibly sagged. “I don’t know. He says he’s fine, but he lost thirty pounds
and looks like he’s aged thirty years.” She unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap. “You know he won’t go to Mike Yancy.”

“There are other doctors,” Jasmine insisted.

“Not for us. You know that.”

Jasmine looked down, then up
, brightening. “Morgan and Dorian…,” she began and was cut off by the wave of Teresa’s hand.

“He won’t let Morgan
do anything because of the baby and Dorian doesn’t have the healing power.” She smiled and patted Jasmine’s hand, trying to reassure her. “Miss Alice and Miss Grace have been giving him some of their concoctions. It seems to be helping. He’s not as tired.” She stopped speaking and plastered a smile on her face as Bill reappeared through the doors with a pitcher of iced tea.

Eryk blinked and allowed his vision to shift. The man’s aura was
mottled. The entire thing had a lavender glow. Nothing he’d ever seen before. The other colors spiked in jagged arcs. There were definite breaks in the energy.

Jasmine touched his hand
and he felt the tingle. He blinked and looked at her. She frowned. He tried to smile at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He placed his hand over hers and squeezed, allowing a small about of energy pass between them. He heard her intake of breath and watched her eyes sparkle.

“You could…
,” she started. He gave her hand another squeeze and gave an almost imperceptible nod, hoping she caught his motion.

“What a beautiful inn,” he di
rected his attention to Teresa. Teresa was looking at his hand over Jasmine’s. He gave one last squeeze and put his napkin in his lap.

“Yes,” Teresa said, not skipping a beat. “It’s one of the oldest structures here. It was built by the Abbott family to hide away one of the daughters thought to be not quite right in the head.” She smiled at Bill as
filled the glasses and sat down.

“Lunch will be
but a moment.” He took a deep breath and placed his own napkin in his lap with a flourish. “Now, isn’t this something. Me sitting down to a meal with my two favorite women.” His smile was warm and encompassing.

Eryk could tell Teresa had reached under the table and taken Bill’s hand.

“I was just telling Eryk about this old place,” Teresa said.

“Hedy’s hideaway?” Bill laughed.

Teresa hit him in the arm, “Bill. That’s not funny.” She was laughing, nevertheless.

She turned back to Eryk.
“Helen Abbott, nicknamed Hedy for some reason,” she shrugged, “was one of the first to have green eyes.” Then she looked at Eryk directly. “…and the visions.”

Eryk frowned.

Jasmine piped up. “We haven’t had a lot of time for conversation.”

“Oh,” Teresa said
, shrugged again, and continued, “rather than have her institutionalized—back then that was like condemning someone to hell—Mr. Abbott built this house for her. Sent her here with servants and here she remained for the rest of her life. Quite happy, I’m told.”

“I thought you said it was privately owned?” he looked at Jasmine.

Bill spoke up. “It is. Abbott bought all the surrounding lands, once he got approval by the tribal counsel. It gets complicated, but everything goes back to the Abbott House in Atlanta. It’s the foundation that holds everything. I am sure you will hear from Bask, if you haven’t already.”

“I got an email from a Kristoff Bask about flying Jasmine down.
A very assertive personality, even in writing,” Eryk said.

“That’s the one,” Bill said enthusiastically. At that moment
, several young women appeared carrying trays. Plates were placed in front of them. Grilled pork chops in a wine demi-glaze, sugar peas, grilled zucchini, and herbed potatoes. Fresh yeast rolls were passed around and Eryk found his mouth watering. The tea glasses were refilled and everyone dug in, silent except for murmurs of appreciation. When Eryk rolled his eyes and groaned, Bill laughed, “Now, that’s a real compliment.”

As they finished off thin slices of several types of pie
, Jasmine rose. “I hate to do this, but I want to check on the girls.” When Eryk started to rise, she gently rushed him back down. “You. Stay. Teresa will show you your room. Freshen up. I’m come back for you and we’ll head over to Dorian and Morgan’s.” She stepped around and kissed Teresa and Bill each on the cheek and waved over her shoulder as she walked out of the room.

Teresa watched Eryk
’s gaze follow Jasmine and smiled.

****

Eryk stood on the balcony, the French doors thrown wide. He’d taken a shower and changed, then stepped onto the balcony, not sure what he’d expected. At soon as he stepped out, Jasmine’s description came to mind, as did her enthusiasm. If anything, she’d understated its magnificence. A lush green lawn stretched down to a winding creek. Trees dotted the lawn, each one encircled by colorful plants. Wrought iron tables graced the lawn and couples dined in the cool afternoon air. The weeping willow she’d described was beyond anything he could have imagined. Green limbs spread away from the huge trunk, its many stems thinning and dipping, moving gently in the breeze, like green gossamer tresses.

Jasmine knocked lightly on the door. She opened it when he called, “Come in.
"

He turned as she walk
ed into the suite. She’d thrown on a black cowl neck sweater over black jeans, tucked into black boots. Her hair softly framed her perfect features and her lips were touched with a hint of red. She smiled and his breath caught. She was stunning.

She stopped. Their eyes locked and it felt like a charge moved through the room. Trying to ignore it, she looked away
, around the room. It was one of the Inn’s biggest and best, other than the bridal suite. In fact, she liked this one best. It had a Scottish feel to it—heavy mahogany, highly polished, plaid fabrics with paisley. It fit his personality to a tee. Unable to stop herself, she let her eyes move back to him. He leaned against the wooden balcony, something she would never do, his hands resting on the rail, his legs slightly parted. The breeze ruffled his black hair and it looked as though his green eyes sparked.

As though
nothing could stop them, they moved toward one another. When they were but a foot apart, he raised his hands and gently framed her face. The surge between them was immediate. “We’re no longer in the air,” his deep voice whispered as he brushed her lips with his. He heard her intake of breath and waited until her lips parted slightly in invitation. Then he claimed her mouth. For an instant, she was his. His mouth moved over hers and their tongues danced. Then, just as suddenly, she pushed away, staring wild-eyed.

He frowned.

“We better go,” she said a little breathless and turned away. She continued to move away until the energy between them subsided. Without looking back, she pulled open the door and walked down the hall.

Eryk
followed her.

They waved at Teresa as they passed through the lobby and out.
The afternoon was lengthening and shadows played across the median. They strolled down the sidewalk toward her shop, stopped, but did not enter. They crossed the median, moved around the fountain, up to The Shoppe of Spells.

It rose like a gothic
mistress, beckoning. She grabbed the doorknob, pushed open the door, and stepped aside, letting him walk past her. Nothing like its outward face, the shop was bright and airy and smelled of herbs, with a floral undertone. Glass shelves displayed soaps and lotions. A door under the stairs opened.

“What can I do
—” Dorian’s words died in his throat.

Although forewarned, they stood
immobile, facing each other, seeing
themselves
. Other than Dorian’s ice-blue eyes and the few pounds difference in weight, it was like looking into a mirror. Neither spoke.

Jasmine stepped forward
, breaking the silence. “Dory!” She threw herself into his arms.

He
grabbed her and twirled her around. “Jas,” he laughed, set her down, held her at arms’ length. “You look gorgeous, as usual,” he said. “Morgan’s in the garden.”

“I’ll get her.
Dorian, Eryk—Eryk, Dorian,” she said as she made her way out the back door screen door, letting it slam behind her. Better they get over the shock without her. It was hard enough seeing the two of them together. Having to watch them dance around each other was more than she wanted to handle at the moment.

Jasmine stopped on the stoop.
Meesha, Dorian’s Border Collie, leapt up and raced toward her, tail wagging. She leaned down to brush the soft fur, letting her eyes rest on the woman kneeling in the garden. Morgan’s faceted green eyes locked on Jasmine’s obsidian ones.

The redhead broke into a wide grin.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me up,” she laughed cradling the large stomach of a late term pregnancy.

Jasmine bounded off the steps and ran to her, gently taking her arm and hoisting her to her feet, not letting go until she was steady. “What are you having,” Jasmine grunted, “a whale
?”

“Some days it feels like it,
” Morgan groaned. She flung her arms around Jasmine. “Oh, to be lean and mean again,” she laughed.

Jasmine hugged, stepped back
, leaned over and stroked the round belly. She cooed a loving comment and planted a kiss, only to feel a foot against her mouth. “I just got kicked,” she exclaimed, thrilled.

“Welcome to my world,” Morgan said and pushed on her stomach, rearranging the offending limb. “Inside?” She glanced at the building.

Jasmine nodded. She was glad she and Morgan had not only made their peace but become friends along the way. Something deep inside her told her Dorian and Eryk would need the both of them.

“Let’s give them a moment, then.”

Jasmine looked around the garden. Even for fall, it was lush and full. Morgan’s magical touch had brought it back to the opulence Morgan’s birth mother, Melissa, had enjoyed. It was a shame Morgan never got to know Melissa—they were so much alike. Unfortunately, Melissa and Thomas Kilraven had died in a plane crash a little over a year before—which was what had brought Morgan to Rutherford in the first place. Jasmine wondered if Morgan would be married to Dorian had they not died. Jasmine forced herself to stop musing. History didn’t change.

Morgan led Jasmine toward the beautiful cottage nestled at the back of the garden. The
Dutch door stood open. Jasmine loved the cottage and was thrilled that little had changed in it over the last year. Herbs were hanging from the beams in the great room, drying, their fragrance scenting the air. Crystals and stones rested on window sills and the mantel, sparkling. French doors led to the back bedroom and bath. The woven rug rested in its special place in front of those French doors.

An involuntary shudder passed through
Jasmine. “Any activity?” she asked, letting her gaze linger on the old woven rug.

Morgan
’s gaze followed hers to the rug and she shook her head. “Nothing. Which is making Dorian a very happy man.” Her hands went protectively to her stomach. “Let me go pee and we’ll go check on the boys.” She waddled the walk of a very pregnant woman through the bedroom to the bathroom.

Jasmine
pushed down a twinge of jealousy and called toward the back. “When you have some time, I need to talk with you.”

Morgan appeared, pulling
down her shirt over her pregnancy pants. “I will be so glad NOT to have to use every facility within reach,” she laughed. “Want to talk now?”

“No
. But soon.”

“
Okay. Let’s go see how the boys are getting along.”

The
y walked back through the garden, arm in arm. Morgan stopped right before they reached the steps. She turned to Jasmine. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Jasmine commented and dropped her arm.

Morgan took her hand. A small, controlled current went from Morgan to Jasmine, almost a challenge. Jasmine laughed. “No fair. I don’t want to risk the babies.”