Kindling Flames: Granting Wishes (The Ancient Fire Series Book 5)

Julie Wetzel

Crimson Tree Publishing

THIS book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.  Purchase only authorized editions.

Granting Wishes

Copyright ©2015 Julie Wetzel

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-63422-121-4

Cover Design by: Marya Heiman

Typography by: Courtney Nuckels

Editing by: Cynthia Shepp

1

Cathren sighed as she shifted a stack of boxes off the shelf. This was the third time this week she had gotten a shock off this stupid light fixture. Complaining to the owner hadn’t done her a bit of good. The idea of spending any money to replace the broken ballast was too appalling for the cheapskate.

Unable to stand the idea of getting shocked again, or worse, a customer getting hurt, Cathren took it upon herself to fix the issue. It had to be a loose wire. Some electrical tape should be enough to repair the thing until she could talk some sense into the idiotic owner.

Picking up a screwdriver, Cathren attacked the rack. The task couldn’t be that hard. She’d replaced light switches and outlets at home. One measly lamp couldn’t be more trouble than that. The real problem came in the fact that she couldn’t unplug the stupid light. The faulty rack was in the middle of a whole line of fixtures that was pushed up against the wall, blocking access to the plugs. To cut the power off, she’d have to throw the breaker for the store, cutting off the entire wall. That would not be possible. The register was plugged into that same circuit. She was just going to have to be careful as she worked with the live wires.

“Come on, you!” Cathren growled as she pried the metal covering off. It was wedged in there pretty tight. Obviously, it was not meant to be taken off while still attached to the shelf. Popping one side out, Cathren slipped her fingers into the gap and wiggled the thing loose. The side-to-side motion of the cover must have hit the loose wire. Electricity bit at Cathren, making her yank her fingers back.

“Crap.” Cathren cursed as her ring finger caught on the sharp edge of the metal, tearing the skin open. Sticking the bleeding digit in her mouth, she glared at the rack. Not only had she been electrocuted by the stinking light, but the shelf was fighting back, too. This was just not her lucky day. Eyeing the open cover, Cathren considered leaving the job for her boss, but he wouldn’t be in until tomorrow. She couldn’t leave the cover plate hanging like that. The metal was touching the wire, electrifying the whole line of fixtures now. If anyone touched any of the shelves, they could get a nasty shock. Pulling her scraped finger from her mouth, she got back to work.

“Great,” Cathren growled as she turned the screwdriver around and banged on the metal bit until it fell off. The handle of the tool was coated in rubber, keeping her from getting any more of a shock. When the piece fell away, she looked up in the hole and found the problem. There was a crack in the ceramic ballast. A little tape should do the trick.

Movement from the corner of Cathren’s eye made her heart drop. A hand was reaching up into the shelf to pick up one of the pewter figurines displayed under the faulty light. Cathren hadn’t touched the shelf again to see if it was still hot, but if her customer reached his goal, he might get the surprise of his life.

Cathren’s left hand shot up and grabbed the customer’s forearm just past the wrist. “Wait!” she yelled, stopping him from touching anything. Her injured ring finger slipped through a small hole in his cable-knit sweater and touched his skin. They both jumped at the jolt of power that crossed between them. Cathren turned to look at the person she’d shocked. The man was gorgeous! His strong features were softened by the gentle curl of his bright red hair. His pale blue eyes held surprise as he stared at where Cathren held his arm away from the figure.

“Sorry.” She smiled at him, pulling his hand from the shelf. “There’s a problem with the light.”

The man’s eyes moved from where she held his arm to Cathren’s face. “Release me.”

His soft voice washed around Cathren as he spoke. A strange feeling came over her, but she shook her head and it disappeared. “Of course,” she said, letting his arm go. “But, please, don’t touch the shelf yet.” Turning back to her light, she snuck little peeks at the man as she finished. He just stood there with the most astounded look on his face. She tried to take in as much as she could without really looking at him. He stood just shy of six feet and looked like he might work out, but the old Irish fishing sweater and jeans didn’t show off his physique very well. Overall, he was a rather handsome man. Now, if he would just stop staring at her, she might actually enjoy having him in the store. When she was finished, Cathren turned to look at him and pulled on a friendly expression. “It’s safe again.” When he didn’t move, she gathered up her tools to put them away.

The man followed her as she took her supplies back over to the counter.

She busied herself with putting stuff away, hoping the man would just get what he was looking for and go. He was starting to give her the creeps.

“What’s your name?” the man asked. His voice was pleasant and warm with a bit of an accent that Cathren could spend hours listening to under other circumstances.

“Cathren,” she informed him as she pulled on the smile she used for difficult customers.

“Cathren.” The man repeated her name with a bit of a roll in the ‘r’. “Such a fitting name.” His eyes twinkled with merriment before getting serious. “Well, Cathren, my name is Patrick, and I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you caught me. Now what do you want?” Patrick leaned his elbow on the counter. The corner of his mouth turned up in amusement.

“What?” Cathren asked, confused.

Patrick pushed the sleeve of his sweater up and showed her his forearm. A bloody fingerprint stained his skin. “What do you want?” he asked again, holding the toned arm out for her to see.

“I am so sorry.” Cathren gasped as she pulled out some paper towels from under the counter. Squirting some hand sanitizer on them, she wiped her blood off his arm. The blood had perfectly covered a small tattoo of a shamrock. It was an odd place to put the clover—seeing as he had no other tattoos—and she couldn’t have hit it more exactly if she tried.

“It’s fine, lass.” The man pushed her worrying hands away and glanced at the tattoo on his arm. “Looks like you get three.” He looked back up at her. “Now, what do you want?”

Cathren just shook her head, not understanding him. “What do you mean?”

Patrick let out a resigned breath. “Traditionally, when you catch a leprechaun, they have to barter for their release.” A wry smirk slipped across his face. “And since I couldn’t stop the magic from settling, it looks like I’m going to be held to that tradition. It’s just turned into your lucky day. You get three wishes. Now, what do you want?”

Cathren gave the good-looking man leaning on her counter a questioning look. Either this was the strangest pick-up line in the history of the world, or he was insane. God, she hoped he was hitting on her. “Nothing.” Cathren turned away from him and pulled out a box of tangled necklaces to work on. Maybe if she seemed busy, he would go away.

Patrick stood up and walked around the counter to stand across from her. “There’s got to be something you want.” Picking up a tangle of chains, he started helping her loosen them.

Shaking her head, she tried not to look at his delicate fingers freeing the links. Ignoring him was still the best option she had. They worked on in silence for a few minutes.

“I can’t leave ‘til you make some kind of wish,” Patrick said softly.

Cathren looked up into the man’s face. He didn’t seem insane. “Are you really a leprechaun?” She knew better than to encourage the mentally ill. Her mother had often warned her of this. As it was, her Irish grandmother suffered from mental delusions. The old woman was prone to rambling on about fairies and hill people. Leprechauns would have been right up her alley. Cathren touched the locket her grandmother had given her. It held a four-leaf clover the old woman had brought back from Dublin on her last visit.

“Yes.” Patrick’s eyes softened as he answered. Reaching out, he touched her hand on the counter. “You have three wishes. What do you want?”

Letting out an exasperated breath, Cathren pulled away from the man’s touch. “I don’t know.” She pushed her long, dark hair back over her shoulder and scraped the necklaces they had just untangled back into the box. Hundreds of possible wishes flooded through her brain. “Do I have to answer now?”

“Yes.” Patrick nodded glumly. “I can’t leave ‘til I know what you want.”

She couldn’t believe that she was going to buy into this man’s dementia, but if it got him out of the store… Although, it was a shame to send him packing so soon. He was rather nice to look at. Shaking her head, Cathren put her mind to the task. What could she ask for that would send him away? She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “True love.”

Patrick’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

Embarrassment colored Cathren’s face. Of all the things that could have popped into her head, she had to pick that. Sure, she always dreamed of some handsome prince sweeping her off her feet, but things like that didn’t happen in this day and age.

“Okay.” Patrick pushed both his hands through his hair, smoothing it back from his face. “Is there someone that you wish to love you truly?”

The blush on Cathren’s face deepened, and she hid it away from him as she answered. “No.”

“Okay.” He sounded a little less shocked. “We can work with that. And, I suspect your next wish will be for money?”

“No.” Cathren shook her head, dismissing this idea; she had never been a material girl. “Money can’t buy happiness.”

Patrick laughed. “So you want happiness?”

Cathren turned to look at the man. “Sure.” That was vague enough to be a good wish.

“True love and happiness.” Patrick smirked and leaned on the counter again. “And your third?”

Cathren thought about this for a moment. Her stomach growled loudly. “Waffles.” She chuckled at him. If he was going to grant her wishes, she might at least get something out of them.

“Waffles?” Amusement turned up the corners of his mouth.

“What?” Cathren glowered at him. “I’m hungry.”

Patrick laughed at her. “True love, happiness, and waffles.” His voice was rich with joy. “This should be very entertaining. Here.” Pulling out his wallet, he fished up a business card and held it towards her.

She came over to take the card. “What’s this?”

Patrick caught her around the wrist before she could pull the card from his fingers. “If you should change your mind or need to contact me, you can reach me here.” He slipped the card into her hand and closed it around the thick paper. “Have a nice night.” Before she could get over her shock, he had released her and disappeared out the double doors into the main part of the mall.

“That was odd.” In all her twenty-five years, she had never had anyone hit on her like that and disappear. She stood there for a moment, praying he wasn’t nuts. Looking at the card, Cathren read it: Patrick Brogan, owner, Hats and Soles. The man owned a hat and shoe shop. This was not something she had expected from the slightly insane, but, then again, weren’t hatters supposed to be slightly mad? Slipping the card into her pocket, she decided to keep it in case he caused her trouble. The feeling of something shifting on her arm drew Cathren’s attention, and she lifted her hand back up to look at it. A fine chain of gold wrapped around the wrist that Patrick had grabbed.

“What the…?” She was surprised she hadn’t noticed him slip the chain on her wrist. Cathren searched the bracelet for a clasp but couldn’t find one. She did find three clovers attached to the fine chain. They were magnificently wrought in gold. Tucking her thumb and pinky in as far as it would go, she tried slipping the chain over her hand, but it was too tight. She considered breaking the chain off, but that seemed such a shame. Letting out a sigh, Cathren pushed it from her mind. There were other things she needed to do right now. She would worry about the bracelet later. What harm could the simple band do anyway?

***

The sound of the gate being pushed up drew Cathren away from where she was straightening the shelves. She couldn’t think of anyone that would have the audacity to ignore the obvious signs that they were closed and let themselves in.

Sarah’s voice called out to the person Cathren couldn’t see. “I’m sorry, we’re closed.”

“I don’t need anything,” a familiar, male voice answered. “Is Cathren here?”

Cathren tripped over the broom she had been pushing around as she rushed to see if her suspicions were true.

“She’s just…” Sarah started to point towards the back of the shop when Cathren fell out of the racks. “There.” Sarah pointed to where she was sprawled on the floor.

Patrick smiled at her. “Hello again.” He came over and reached down to help her up.

Cathren stared at him in shock before finally taking his hand.

Sarah glanced from the handsome man to Cathren. “I’ll just finish this up for you.” Picking the broom up from the floor, she disappeared into the back of the store.

Cathren could swear she saw horns on the sides of the younger girl’s head as she disappeared into the shelves, abandoning Cathren to deal with her problem customer.

After he helped her to her feet, Patrick brought her over to the counter. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” She dusted the dirt off her rump. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Several hours has passed since he left.

Patrick dropped a bag on the counter. “I brought you waffles!” He fished in it, pulling out a box of Eggos.

Cathren laughed. “Those aren’t waffles.” The absurdity of it made her giggle more. She took the carton from him. “These are prepackaged, frozen, and could have been cardboard in another life.”