Charmed and Dangerous: An Appalachian Magic Novel (Appalachian Magic Series Book 1) (4 page)

Could it be her father? Maybe they were right, and he was an evil person out to get her. She didn’t move but listened and scanned the trees as thunder gathered in volume and the first drop of rain hit her numbed face.

Callie looked behind at the steep drop down the cliff. She had to go forward and face the unknown danger. There was no retreat. Hugging the plaid blanket tightly around her shoulders, she stepped toward the path. An unmistakable sound of twigs breaking beneath the feet of someone, or some
thing
, pierced the air. She hardly knew which to hope for—beast or human. Before she could formulate a plan, a tall, attractive guy stepped out of the woods.

Although he was a good twenty feet away, the strength of his energy blocked her movement. She’d never encountered such a tangible force field. She searched his face in a panic, which quickly changed to awe. Dark brown eyes bore into her and rooted her to the spot. She was relieved to see he looked as startled as she felt.

“Who are you?” In an attempt to disguise her lingering apprehension, her voice came out loud and belligerent.

“James.” He crossed the distance between them. “James MacLauren. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Callie couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. They were like warm chocolate with topaz specks—mesmerizing. He stood well over six feet tall, and she gazed up at him, openly displaying her admiration. Her fear of physical danger passed, replaced by a fear of looking like an idiot. She blushed. “I’m Callie Bradford.”

“Callie.” Her name lingered on his lips, his deep voice vibrating with warmth. “Are you new here? I’m certain I’ve never seen you before.”

His dog threw back his head and howled.

Callie knelt and held out her hand for the dog to sniff. “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Sin.”

“Sin?” She looked up questioningly.

“Yeah, as in,
ugly as Sin
.”

“He’s a cutie.” She laughed as Sin licked her hand.

“You should have seen him when I first found him howling up under my house. He was wet, dirty, and reeked. I think he had a run-in with a skunk.”

She hugged the dog close. She didn’t have Mom’s talent with animals, but she loved them.

Thunder echoed around the mountaintop. James looked overhead. “We should head back down. Rain’s picking up.”

“Okay. I’m freezing anyway.”

They set out on the trail down the mountain together, Sin running ahead. When the trail narrowed, Callie motioned for James to pass her.

The rain came down heavy, but the thickness of the tree canopies shielded them from most of the downpour. It was as if Mother Earth enveloped them in a cocoon of protection and intimacy.

Callie admired his tall, muscular body as he deftly negotiated tree roots and jutting rocks. He was lean and moved with an easy confidence. Whenever he held back a tree branch for her to pass, he smiled in a way that made her whole body tingle. Her unexpected encounter with the most handsome guy ever had a surreal quality. Maybe her luck was finally changing.

The air hissed and crackled, and the already-dark sky deepened several degrees.

“What’s that noise?” Callie stopped and looked around.

James tilted his head upwards to the treetops. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

A swirling mass of blue, purple, and green light rimmed the edges of several of the tallest tree branches overhead. The hissing grew louder, and the branches glowed brighter until it looked as if the uttermost tips of the limbs were dipped in indigo fluorescent paint.

It was too spectacularly beautiful for Callie to be afraid, but Sin howled like a banshee. James picked him up in one hand and grabbed her arm in the other.

“Run,” he ordered curtly.

They flew down the trail so quick, it made Callie dizzy.

“What’s going on?” she panted, fear taking root.

A sudden illumination from the lightning bolt blinded her while thunder cracked in her ears. Its loud echo resonated like an earthquake. A tree exploded and large branches mixed with bark and wood splinters rained down. Callie shrieked and pressed her hands to her ears in a useless attempt to drown out the noise. She didn’t open her eyes or protest when James put Sin in her arms then picked them both up and ran. Callie held Sin close to her chest where he whimpered and trembled. A sensation of cold air blowing fiercely did nothing to calm her. She buried her face in James’s coat to avoid the stinging rain and flying branches.

“I think we’re out of danger now.”

She felt the low rumble in his chest as he spoke. She didn’t want to look up, wanted to stay in the safety of her head against his chest. But curiosity drew her away from the comfort of his body. She and Sin both lifted their heads and looked around.

“How close did we come to being hit by lightning?”

“Only a few yards I would guess.”

They were clear of danger, and yet he still held her.

She let him. After the piercing thunder faded into the distance, the mountain seemed hush. A light rain beat quietly on the tree leaves above. Like a lullaby.

He set her down slowly, and her body brushed the entire length of his before her feet touched earth. Callie blushed and stepped back reluctantly. Sin jumped down and began sniffing and running, the storm forgotten.

“Before the lightening hit, what was that ball of fire in the sky? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“St. Elmo’s fire. I’ve only seen it about three times in my life. This is the first time I’ve ever seen one during the day.”

“I thought
St. Elmo’s
was an old TV show,” she said weakly.

“The hissing sound and blue-green glow is from an electrical field called a corona. You only see St. Elmo’s during a thunderstorm when the negative charges from the ground collide with the positive charges above. I’ve seen the tips of cow horns and grass blades light up before.”

Smart guy. And sexy and maybe even dangerous. She’d never spent a more exciting morning. “How did you know lightning was about to strike?”

“Soon as you see the glow and hear the electrical field hiss, it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge. But it also means the storm’s about to pass. That’s why sailors thought St. Elmo’s fire was a good omen when they saw one at sea.”

A good omen. She could use one after last night’s drama.

They started walking again, and she was surprised when they reached the edge of the woods in minutes. How did they get down the mountain so quick? She must have kept her face hidden in his coat longer than she thought.

She led James to the small path toward home. Some inexplicable compulsion slowed her steps, and she turned to face him, reluctant to leave him and the magic of the woods. He stood less than a foot away and smelled of earth, rain, musk and leather, an intoxicating brew.

She studied his face with its stern jaw and perfectly sculpted, high cheekbones. He looked as if he might have some Cherokee blood. Smokey, dark eyes blazed against his light olive complexion.

Unbidden, her hand rose to touch his cheek. She was being bold, but she had to touch him, had to feel that olive skin beneath her pale hands. “James.” Her voice was soft and breathless. In the midst of a winter thunderstorm, she had found a haven of warmth and wonder.

He drew back abruptly and held her at arm’s length, studying her in turn. “What are you? A witch or something?”

Callie jumped and blinked in disbelief. How could he have possibly guessed? He grinned, and she realized he was joking.

“You could say that.” She resisted a childish urge to cross her fingers behind her back.

“So that’s your home?” He nodded in the direction of the house.

“Yeah, home sweet home.” In the gray wetness, lamplight shone through several windows, warm and inviting. But to get there, they would have to make a dash for it in the lingering rain over a large expanse of open yard.

“Ready to run?” he asked.

No. No, she wanted to stay right where they were forever. No way could she admit it though. “Okay,” she agreed.

Together they emerged from the woods, running fast to reach the shelter of the back porch. Sin got there first and barked in excitement. Callie reached down to stroke his wet fur. “C’mon in, but we better leave Sin out here. I’m afraid our cats wouldn’t give him a warm welcome.”

“No problem. Stay here a minute, boy.”

Callie felt self-conscious as they entered the den. Mom sat in a recliner by the fire reading, and Grandma Jo was on the floor in some kind of yoga pretzel pose. Willow stretched out on the fireplace rug, sleeping.

She cleared her throat. “Hi, everyone. This is James. I met him out hiking, and we got caught in the storm.”

Mom put down her book and surveyed the newcomer warily. Grandma Jo looked up, startled. Callie suppressed the urge to giggle as her normally composed grandmother blushed at being caught in such an undignified position.

“Oh . . . what a surprise.” She scrambled to her feet and put a hand to her spiked hair. “Look at you both soaking wet. Can I get you some tea or hot chocolate?”

James smiled. “Hot chocolate would be awesome.”

“Just the
regular
hot chocolate,” Callie said, arching an eyebrow. She motioned James to the hallway. “Let’s go put our stuff up.” She shook off the wet blanket wrapped around her shoulders then reached for his coat.

The hall seemed tiny; James’s presence filled the small space. The enclosed nook, with the sound of the rain beating down on the roof, created a feeling of intimacy. She didn’t know whether to be thrilled or scared of getting caught as his eyes shifted to her lips.

The sound of banging pots and pans brought them to their senses.

Callie smiled sheepishly and nodded her head toward the den. “Why don’t we go sit by the fire?”

In the den, Mom stared at the flames. She looked up, and Callie was surprised to see an uncharacteristically guarded expression on her face.

“How did you happen to run into Callie early on a Sunday morning? Not many people would be out hiking in this weather.”

Callie’s face went red with anger and embarrassment. Did her mother imagine he was some kind of creepy stalker?

“I walk every morning at daybreak. Usually I hike around Booze Mountain where I live, but sometimes I want a change of scenery.”

“Booze Mountain?” Callie laughed. “I’d forgotten that name. Where on the mountain are you?”

“We’re practically neighbors. I live almost at the top, only a couple miles from you.”

Grandma Jo entered with a tray of hot chocolate and fresh-baked carrot muffins. “If you’re anything like my granddaughter, that walk will have made you hungry.”

“Absolutely. Thank you.” James eagerly accepted the food and drink.

“Thanks, Grandma.” Callie cautiously took a sip. “I see this is up to your usual standards, minus that herbal note in the last batch you made.”

Grandma Jo settled into a rocker by the fireplace. “I’m surprised we haven’t met before now. I’ve lived in Piedmont since I was a young bride.”

“I’ve only been here a couple of years.”

“I see, James . . .? What’s your last name?”

It dawned on Callie he was being drilled.

“MacLauren.” James smiled at Callie, not the least bit flustered. “I live with my dad. Maybe you know him, Carter MacLauren?”

“Hmm. No, I don’t think so. Ginnie, have you ever met a Carter MacLauren?”

“No.” Mom stared intently at James, the forgotten book on the floor by her feet.

“Does he work in town?” Grandma Jo asked with deceptive mildness.

“No, he’s recently retired, used to work as a pharmacist.”

“In Piedmont?” Grandma Jo asked in surprise.

A ball of orange fur suddenly landed in James’s lap, knocked over his hot chocolate, and streaked out to the hallway.

“Whoa!” James swiped at his jeans.

“Grendel! I’m sorry. Let me clean it up. He’s a bad kitty.” Callie grabbed some napkins and began mopping up the mess.

“No problem. What’s his name again?”

“Grendel. You know, after the monster in Beowulf.”

“A perfect name for him,” Grandma Jo said. “He’s always knocking things over or driving Willow crazy jumping on her. Here, let me fix you another cup of chocolate.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d better get home soon, though. Dad and I were going to Rome today.”

“Rome?” Callie asked in disbelief.

“Rome,
Georgia
. We’ve got to get some supplies.”

She smacked her forehead. “Duh. I thought you meant, like, Italy. “While you finish drinking, I’m going to put on some dry clothes. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Upstairs, donning dry jeans and a t-shirt, she was bummed to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was soaking wet and clung to her in wet clumps. Of course, she had to be looking her worst when she met the world’s greatest guy. Quickly, she grabbed a towel and ran it through the wet locks. It wasn’t much better, but it would have to do. Wouldn’t do to keep him waiting too long in the interrogation room. After years apart, she was aggravated by the motherly grilling of James.

A bit of amber glistened on the dresser, and she suddenly understood. They wanted to make sure James had no connection with her father. She picked up the amber and stared at her reflection. Her image blurred, and James’s face glimmered on the mirror’s surface, the glass transforming to a fuzzy movie screen.

Against a gray sky, James knelt by a tomb, head bowed in sorrow. Callie concentrated her attention on the tombstone and read the inscription:
In loving memory, Elizabeth Channing MacLauren, January 31, 1825 - March 18, 1865.

A loud clap of thunder, and her gaze jumped to the window. When she turned back, the mirror’s slate was wiped clean. She was again alone in the room staring at her reflection.

Nothing like that had ever happened before. What could it mean? She knew of other witches who could scry—divine the future--by looking into crystals or black bowls of water. But she never had any desire to try and foresee the future. Too scary.

Shaken, she returned downstairs.

“… and how long has your father lived in Piedmont?”

So, the drilling continued.

“Ready to get a move on?” Callie asked as she entered the den, interrupting Mom’s questions.