An Ordinary Fairy (20 page)

Willow came out of the pool room and climbed the stairs without looking at him. “Jeans are better,” she murmured.

Soon, Willow bounded down the stairs. “Ready?” she asked, then “No, wait, shoes!” and she went back up.

Noah walked to the door, put on his coat, and sat down to pull on his boots. Willow appeared on the stairs carrying a pair of blue Mary Jane’s and a pair of white socks. She sat next to Noah on the step and pulled them on. He stood up, waiting patiently by the door.

Willow stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her jeans, fiddled with her hair and straightened her sweater, all rather nervously, Noah thought. “Do I look okay?” she asked.

What a crazy little fairy
.

He surveyed her from head to toe, to tease, and nodded his head. “Let me put it this way. When we walk into the pub, it will be as if I don’t exist.” Willow’s expression was blank. Noah touched her cheek. “Willow, what I mean is no one’s going to look at an old cowboy when the fairy queen walks in.” Her eyes grew wide for a moment, but then she smiled and her cheeks glowed.

“Thank you.”

Willow grabbed her vest jacket and they went out. After making sure Shadow had fresh water and food outdoors, they patted him on the head and left.

Ten

N
oah was right. Willow turned quite a few heads when they entered Ruby Nell’s. They found a private table for two near the back. Noah faced the front door, as he liked.

“I’ll visit the salad bar,” Willow said as they sat down. “If you hadn’t figured it out, I’m vegetarian.”

“Yes, I thought so. I suppose all your, uh, relatives are, too?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if I—”

“No, get whatever you want.”

Noah flipped open the menu. “Is Shadow vegetarian, too?” he asked.

Willow shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t be fair to him, since he’s a carnivore by nature. He eats dry food most of the time, but he does get an occasional fresh treat, plus whatever he catches when he’s out and about.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“How are you doing?” Noah asked. “I mean with all the people.”

“I’m fine,” she said without smiling. Noah felt some anxiety in her, but much less than she had exhibited at the clerk’s office.

Noah ordered while Willow filled her plate at the salad bar. She came back with it heaped and plowed in with enthusiasm. They spoke little. Willow was busy eating and Noah was analyzing, trying to make sense of everything he had learned today. Not just his mysterious dowsing find, but also the things he had learned about Willow.

When Noah’s steak arrived, Willow was piling up a second plate at the salad bar. She returned and began eating again, somewhat slower.

“Tell me more about your parents’ farm,” she said.

“It’s your typical Wisconsin dairy farm. Dad has about forty cows. He does some breeding. Do you…” he began, then lowered his voice and leaned forward to whisper. “Do you work with domesticated animals, too?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe I should have you chat with Dad’s bull. He’s a real pain. Anyway, it’s a typical farm with the standard barn with a hayloft. Mom and Dad are great. Mom always keeps my room ready if I want to stay over. I live only ten miles away, but I stay sometimes to make her happy.” Noah smiled as his thoughts wandered back to Wisconsin. “They always make things homey. Christmas is really special. They decorate the place like a mall. We have a big get together and Dad plays Santa for my sister’s three kids.”

A couple coming in the front door caught Noah’s eye. The man was Louie Miller. The woman with him looked very much the grandmother type, with grey hair and wire-rimmed glasses accompanied by a pleasant smile. Louie nodded and spoke to some people near the door. His eyes swept the room to see who else might be in the pub. He spotted Noah and waved. Then he saw Willow. A shocked look came across his features, but it quickly changed to excitement. He spoke to the woman and the two walked toward Noah and Willow.

“There’s Louie,” Noah said. Willow turned to look. From his vantage point, Noah could see Louie’s expression when Willow waved; there was no mistaking the affection.

“Hello, Ms. Brown,” Louie said. “You remember Catherine, I’m sure.”

“Yes, of course,” Willow said, as she extended her hand to the older woman. “I haven’t seen you for a long time, but I don’t get out much.”

“It’s good to see you again, too, Willow,” Catherine said. “Such a pretty name for such a pretty young woman.”

“You’re too kind,” Willow said.

Noah was forgotten momentarily, but then Louie turned to him. “Oh, Catherine, this is Noah Phelps. He’s the young photographer I told you about.” Noah stood to greet Catherine, shook hands with Louie, and sat down.

“So what brings you two out tonight?” Louie asked.

Willow smiled. “We’ve made a day of it, actually. Noah was kind enough to drive me to Danville this morning to straighten out an issue with the taxes on the property. Then he took some pictures of the pond and we spent the afternoon exploring the woods and the Big House.”

“Willow nearly walked my legs off,” Noah said, “so I made her stop and come to dinner with me.”

Louie laughed and winked. “She can be a real slave driver when she git’s her mind set on something.” Willow blushed but smiled.

Louie and Catherine made their way to a table across the room. Noah and Willow went back to their food.

Between bites, Willow kept the conversation going. “Noah, how did your pentacle do what it did in my parents’ room?”

“Magic, I guess. The pentacle has been recognized as a protection symbol for centuries, which is one reason I always wear mine. It provides some protection against evil and bad fortune. I can’t imagine there being any evil in your parents’ room, so I think what it did today was provide a focal point for me to help break the hold of whatever enchantment was controlling me. Us.”

“Focus,” Willow said quietly. “That’s what’s helping me tonight, I think. As long as I stay focused, I can handle the people. Good idea to sit facing the back, too.”

“Good. If you have any problem at all, holler.”

“Thanks. What was the enchantment in their room, do you think? Assuming there are various types.”

“I don’t know. Stuff was sure swirling around in there.” Noah lowered his eyes to the table and closed them as he recalled the experience. “I couldn’t latch onto specifics until I saw you in the window. Then I sort of had an adrenaline rush. My whole being, mind and body, went into overdrive. You were beautiful standing in the window, but you also looked … sexy.” He raised his eyes to hers.

Willow was listening with raised eyebrows. “Before or after my little dance?” she asked.

“Before. I think you felt my … arousal and emulated.”

This is not a comfortable conversation.

“Do you remember your dance?” Noah asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Willow said. “Every bit. I haven’t felt so stirred up for a long time.” She paused. “My parents must have had a lot of fun in there to leave energy we can feel thirty years later. I’ve never noticed anything before, though. What triggered it, I don’t know.”

“Have you ever been in their room with a man before?”

Willow thought about this for a moment before she spoke. Her features altered to the sensuous looking-through-her-eyelashes gaze, but she couldn’t mask the mischief behind her thoughts. “Never with a tall, sexy cowboy.”

Another person entering the pub distracted Noah, a large man who projected arrogance, with a swagger in his walk and a sneer on his face. Across the room, Louie sat up straighter in his chair.

“More company,” Noah said, nodding toward the door. “I think it’s Chester Jones.”

Willow winced and rolled her eyes, then stole a glance. “You’re right. Maybe he won’t see me.”

Not likely.

Jones had already stopped at two tables to greet diners, his eyes roving the room.

He’s a big old boy, that’s for sure.

Jones’s frame wasn’t heavy, just large. Gray hair surrounded his balding head. Silver wire frame glasses emphasized small eyes. He wore a gray suit and tie over a white shirt and moved with the comfort of a man in his usual uniform. His voice was loud and commanding. His eyes stopped on the back of Willow’s head, jumped to Noah with a questioning stare for a moment and returned to Willow. He cut short his other conversations and walked toward them.

“Here he comes,” muttered Noah.

Jones walked straight to their table. “Good evening, Willow,” he said. “What a surprise to see you in town.”

Noah’s shoulders tensed. Jones had kept his eyes on Willow as he crossed the room and now he scanned her in a disgusting, personal way, probing, disrobing her.

I think I’ll stand up and punch you.

Willow’s loathing sparked through the air. She gave Jones a sour look. “It was good until you arrived.”

Jones laughed. His face fixed in a mocking half-smile. “Always charming.” His glance strayed to Noah and then back to Willow. “Who’s your little friend? Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Conceited son of a bitch.

“This is Noah Phelps,” Willow said. “He’s a photographer who’s in town for a few days. Noah, this is Chester Jones.” Willow looked like the name left a bad taste in her mouth.

Noah didn’t want to, but he did the right thing and stood to shake hands with Jones, exchanged murmured greetings and returned to his chair.

Noah felt excitement coming from Willow. “Mr. Phelps was kind enough to drive me to Danville this morning to straighten out an issue with the property taxes. Somehow, the woods was listed for the tax sale.”

For an instant, Jones’s face betrayed annoyance. “Those things happen sometimes,” he said. His eyes shifted to Noah. “So, Noah’s in town for a few days but somehow he ran across our little hermit in the woods.”

She’s MY little hermit, asshole.

Noah felt Willow’s anger growing with his own.

“Do you want anything?” Willow asked. “Other than to ruin a pleasant evening out?”

“An evening out,” Jones said. “With your … friend?”

That’s it. You’re done.

“Mr. Jones,” Noah said, with as much chill in his voice as he could muster, “Ms. Brown was kind enough to allow me to photograph the pond on her property. I offered to buy her dinner as a thank you from my employer. We were discussing some business and would like to continue, if you don’t mind.”

“Business,” Jones repeated, a doubtful look on his face. “Oh. As a matter of fact, that’s why I came to your table, to discuss some business. I have some dealings I need to discuss with you, too,
Ms. Brown
. I’ve been trying to contact you but your attorneys are out of town, I understand. Could you come to my house later this evening? I have some matters we shouldn’t discuss in public.”

Fat chance she’ll agree to that.

“Unless,” Jones added, “you don’t feel adequate to protect your own interests.” Jones watched Willow with eyebrows raised as if expecting her to admit this point. Noah felt her resolve harden.

Does fairy friend status give me the right to intervene?

“Not at all,” Willow said. “What time?”

Jones checked his watch. “Let’s make it eight. And bring your little friend if you like.” He turned and left the pub without another word.

Once Jones was out of earshot, Noah spoke. “Why did you agree to meet with him?”

Willow shrugged. “It’s not as if I’m going to sign anything, and I’ll have you there as a witness.”

“That may be, but I don’t trust this guy. He’s up to something. You saw that look when you mentioned the taxes. He knows you well, and knows how to play you into ignoring your instincts. Would your attorney want you to do this?”

Willow’s expression was sheepish. “Probably not. Well … at least we have time for dessert.”

She ate two pieces of pie for dessert, one pumpkin and one chocolate. Noah was learning that fairies could never turn down chocolate, or at least, his fairy couldn’t. She finished in time to leave for Jones’s house. They waved goodbye to Louie and Catherine and walked to the truck for the short drive.

Chester Jones lived a few blocks north of downtown on a quiet stretch of Penn Street, in one of Hoopeston’s grand old homes, though the place had seen better times. The roof would need some work soon and high on the north side the yellow paint was peeling. A small widow’s walk perched at the apex of the roof. Noah stopped the truck in front of the house and they climbed out.

Willow led Noah up an old brick path from the public sidewalk to the front porch. He sensed growing uneasiness in her.

Black energy seeps out of this place.

A small yellow light illuminated the front door, where a harvest wreath of dried flowers and leaves hung. Willow pushed the doorbell button.

As they waited, Noah peered at the wreath. Hanging below it in the shadow cast by the porch light was a small cloth bag tied with a cord. He leaned close and sniffed it.