Charade (10 page)

Even though I couldn’t be certain, I had an inkling that her aura now bloomed with more blue and green than
Before
. But that wasn’t a bad thing because blue and green were balancing and peaceful. Blue seemed to bloom right out of her head and circle around her. Some of the tension I was feeling about tonight eased because someone with this relaxed of an aura did not have an agenda for inviting me and Sam here. Right?

A deep voice from the kitchen said, “Madeline, where do you keep the napkins?”

I would have turned toward the sound, but I was too interested in my mother. Her whole body shifted toward the sound of his voice. It’s like she was drawn to him. “I’ll be right there! Heven and Sam are here!”

I knew he was going to come out of the kitchen. I anticipated it, but his appearance was still surprising. It was surprising because he was nothing like I expected.

He was hot.

That thought disturbed me in so many ways. I took a small step backward toward Sam, hoping no one noticed the distance I was trying to create. Sam did and he came farther into the room to stand at my back.

“Heven! Sam! How great to meet you!” he said, sliding into the room. He walked with enthusiasm and grinned jovially. He had short, trimmed brown hair and brown eyes. He was tall, but not quite as tall as Sam, and he was dressed casually in jeans and a white button-up shirt left untucked. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and he was wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. He held out his hand as he approached to greet us. I wanted to reach out and take his hand and I understood my mother’s earlier reaction to him; the guy was like a magnet. Charm and charisma poured off of him. Instead of reaching out to greet him, I stared. Sam reached out around me and shook his hand briefly. They exchanged pleasantries.

Then he turned toward me.

“Your mother has told me so much about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

I placed my hand in his. His skin was cool to the touch, but his grip was firm, indicating confidence and strength. My dad always said that you could judge a man by his handshake. “Nice to meet you…”

“Henry,” my mother said, stepping forward. “Heven, this is Henry.”

“Henry,” I echoed, pulling my hand away and smiling. “Nice to meet you.” His aura was a lot like Mom’s, laid-back and friendly with no emotion making too strong a point in the curtain of colors that surrounded him. He did have a great deal of clouds of turquoise, a color symbolizing someone with a dynamic, influencing nature. I guess that explained his magnetism.

Mom turned to Sam. “So glad you could make it, Sam. I know we haven’t been the best of friends up until now, but I’m hoping that will change.”

I clenched my jaw to keep it from falling open. Had I heard her right? Mom was going to accept Sam?

“Well, come on in! Dinner is almost ready. I hope you both are hungry because we made—”

She’s going to say chicken. Chicken, eww.

“Steak.”

“Not chicken?” The words fell from my lips.

Mom laughed. “I think we’ve all had enough chicken. Besides, I never could find a recipe that was actually good.”

I laughed. We all worked side by side doing what was left to do to get dinner on the table. Henry grilled the steaks outside and Mom and I fixed a salad while Sam poured iced tea for everyone. She asked about my job, the farm and Gran; then she asked Sam about his jobs and what he liked to do when he wasn’t working. I waited with baited breath for Mom’s reaction when Sam answered “spend time with Heven,” but Mom just smiled and told him he was sweet.

Okay, this is why I’m apprehensive about thinking all this was great. Why the sudden change in attitude toward Sam? If something appeared too good to be true, then it probably was. There had to be a catch. I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye at Mom only to see her working happily alongside me. It just didn’t seem right. I sighed and swatted away a fly that was buzzing around the salad.

When we were all sitting around the table eating, I took the lapse in conversation to learn a little bit more about my mother and Henry. “So, Mom, how did you and Henry meet?”

“Henry is here with a group of volunteers from our sister church in Portland to help out with our summer humanity project with Habitat for Humanity.”

I smiled and batted at the fly that was still buzzing around, wondering if Henry was as involved with his church as Mom was with ours. “That’s great. So you’re from Portland, Henry?”

“For a while now. I’ve lived in many different places.”

“Henry likes to travel,” Mom said, looking adoringly at him. I smiled, resisting the urge to gape. From beneath the table, Sam squeezed my thigh in reassurance.

When dinner was finished, Mom presented the table with a Bee-sting cake that looked perfectly baked and decorated. For some reason, just looking at the sweet concoction turned my stomach and the last thing I wanted to do was eat it. When she turned away to get coffee cups and a knife to cut the cake, I dropped my fake smile for a split second and shifted in my seat. When I looked up, Henry was staring at me. My eyes collided with his and I felt this weird sort of pressure in my head. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. It was like he was drawing me in. Another fly buzzed in my ear and before my eyes, breaking the trance I was in. I grimaced and shooed it away. “These flies are annoying.”

“It’s summer,” my mother said, returning to the table and began cutting thick slices of the rich cake.

You okay?
Sam asked.

Yeah. I felt weird for a minute, but I’m fine now.

Mom slid a huge slice of cake before me and my stomach revolted. Casually, Sam reached over and slid the plate out from under me and placed it in front of him. “No cake for me,” I said, patting my stomach. “I’m stuffed from dinner.”

Mom frowned.

“But I’d love a cup of coffee,” I hurried to say, trying not to wince. I prayed that my rejection of dessert would not lead into a conversation of how I don’t eat enough.

“Wonderful,” Mom said, her aura never wavering from the tranquil blues and greens. Seconds later, a steaming cup appeared before me. The rich, bold aroma soothed me.

Sam made appreciative noises around the cake and polished off that huge slice before I even added milk and sugar to my mug. Mom seemed delighted and handed him another slice, which he attacked with equal excitement.

You are going to be sick later,
I told him.

“There is a reason that I invited you over,” Mom said, drawing my focus away from Sam. I glanced up to see Henry staring at me once more. He smiled and something cold slithered down my spine. I shook the feeling and turned toward my mother.

“Yes?” Hadn’t I known that this little meal was too good to be true?

“Here,” she said sliding an envelope across the table. I stared down at it for several heartbeats wondering what was inside. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “Open it,” Mom urged.

I picked it up and slid my finger beneath the flap. The paper was crisp and I felt it slice into my skin. “Ouch.” I drew my finger away and stared down at the welling blood.

“Be careful,” Henry said quietly. “Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

I smiled weakly. “It’s just a paper cut.” I tore the envelope the rest of the way and pulled out a sheet of paper. It was the permission slip for the class trip to Italy. Mom’s signature was scrawled across the bottom.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“I’ve decided to allow you to go to Italy,” she said as she took a bite of cake. “This cake is just delicious. Thank you so much for bringing it, Henry,”

“It was my pleasure,” he said smoothly, running his hand down her arm.

“I don’t understand,” I repeated. Just like that? For months she had been adamantly refusing to let me go, demanding that I go to Camp Hope instead. So why the sudden change of heart?

Sam gently pulled the form out of my fingers and looked it over.

Mom smiled. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately and I can see now that I was wrong.” Shock must have registered across my face because she said, “I know this seems out of the blue, but really it isn’t. You’re a good girl, Heven. You always have been and I was punishing you for something that wasn’t even your fault.” Her eyes scanned the area where my scars used to be.

I resisted the urge to finger my cheek. “You don’t think I’m evil?” I whispered, trying not to hope.

“No, honey. I think some bad things happened to you and you did your best to cope.”

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. This was all so unexpected.

Mom smiled. “I hope you have a wonderful time on your trip. Take lots of pictures and I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“Thank you,” I said, staring down at the signed form on the table.

“You’re welcome,” she said, returning to her cake.

I got up from the table and went around to her side and threw my arms around her neck. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m so glad you’re happy.”

I pulled back. “What about Camp Hope?”

She waived her hand in the air dismissively. “I called and gave up your spot. After talking with Henry, it really wasn’t that hard of a decision.”

My eyes shot to Henry who was sipping his coffee. “You talked to Henry about this?”

Mom nodded. “He is a wonderful listener. He helped me see that I was being too hard on you.”

“I…” This was all because of Henry? How much influence did he have over my mother?

“Are you all right, Heven?” Mom said, concern darkening her eyes.

“Oh, yes,” I hurried to say. “Thank you, Mom. This really means a lot to me.” The last thing I wanted to do was give her reason to rethink her decision.

“I’m so glad. I really hope we can be close again,” she said.

I returned to my chair next to Sam and reached for his hand beneath the table. “Me too,” I agreed.

I glanced at Henry, wondering if Mom’s ‘we’ included him. He caught my stare and smiled. It transformed his already good looks into something angelic and benevolent.
Maybe having him around wouldn’t be so bad
, I thought as I studied him anew. But then, something behind his eyes shifted, and the tiniest flicker of something else emerged, something so small it couldn’t really be anything. I blinked and it was gone, making me doubt it had even been there at all. I turned back to my coffee, shaken.

Sometimes looks could be deceiving.

*   *   *

Despite the summer month, the air was cool and the sun was barely up when we crept into the barn. I was reminded that we weren’t as safe as I once might have believed, by the sight of Sam’s tense shoulders and roaming eyes. I wondered if there would ever be a time when our lives weren’t in danger. Sam slid the barn door closed behind us and I clicked on the flashlight I was gripping. Soft beams of light shone before us, illuminating the yellow hay and dirt floor. A soft nickering to my left made me smile.

“Shhh,” I told Jasper through the stall door. “We aren’t really here right now.”

Jasper didn’t seem impressed that he was part of our secret. I handed the flashlight to Sam and reached up to unlatch the door. It made a loud creaking sound when I opened it and I winced. Jasper eyed Sam with the same distrust he always did, but otherwise made no sounds or sudden movements. I was pleased and surprised by Jasper’s gradual coming around to Sam. While the horse may not like him, he didn’t object to having him around either, which I thought of as some sort of victory.

“There’s a shovel over there,” I murmured, reaching up to stroke Jasper’s nose. It was soft and warm and when the horse breathed out, his breath tickled my fingers.

Sam went and grabbed the shovel, moving so silently it amazed me.

“Let’s do it over there in the corner,” I said, shinning the light into the right hand corner of the stall.

Sam nodded and stepped around me into the stall. Jasper danced uneasily and eyed Sam. “Hush, now,” I whispered and reached into my pocket, withdrawing a large red apple. Jasper promptly forgot about Sam and focused on his treat. Thankfully, I had the foresight to slice the apple into fourths so it would take longer for him to eat. Sam began shoveling the hay out of the corner to reveal solid packed dirt. I fed Jasper a second slice of apple and he chomped happily, ignoring the intrusion. Sam had a deep hole dug in no time.

“That should do it,” he whispered, looking up. Even in the dim light I could see a faint smudge of dirt on his cheek. Slipping the last slice of apple to Jasper, I moved over next to Sam, reaching up to brush away the mark. He smiled and caught my hand bringing my chilled fingers to his warm lips. His breath brushed over them when he spoke, sending goose bumps along my arms. “Are you ready?”

I sighed and nodded. I didn’t really have a choice. With regret I pulled my fingers away and reached into the front pocket of my hoodie and pulled out the scroll. The bronze tube around it felt heavy and cold in my grasp. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I whispered.

“It will be safe here,” Sam assured me.

I really believed that it would be. Burying the Treasure Map here, in the barn, literally beneath Jasper, was the only place I could think that it would be safe. Most of the creatures that were coming after me would still assume I would be carrying it or keeping it close. No one would suspect that I would bury it in a barn. And if they did and got close to finding it, I figured that Jasper would freak out the minute any demon came near the barn, giving us enough warning to get out there and save it. Plus, the scent of the horses should cover any other scents that we left here this morning while burying it.

It was a good plan.

So why was I still gripping the scroll like I might never see it again?

Sam covered my hands with his. He made no move to take it, but simply offered understanding and comfort. “It’s not forever,” he murmured. “We’ll come back and get it before we go to Rome in a couple weeks.”

I nodded not meeting his eyes. This scroll
had
to be kept safe. It was the only way to keep people from dying. To keep Sam from dying and in a way, it was a repayment to Airis for saving both our lives the night China murdered me. So much depended upon this one map’s safety.