The Amber Stone (27 page)

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Authors: Dara Girard

Tags: #romance

BOOK: The Amber Stone
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Sean entered the kitchen just as Teresa set fruit on the table. He sat down, pushing hair from his forehead.

“I’ve ruined your morning by keeping you up all night, right?” she asked when she saw him twice reach for his orange juice and miss.

“You’re worth it.” He stared at her through half-closed lids. “But if I hadn’t smelled the food, I’d still be asleep.”

“I can reheat it for you.”

“No need. I’m already up.” He rested his chin in his hand. Teresa placed a plate in front of him, then sat down to eat. It took her a few seconds to realize he’d gone back to sleep.

“Sean?” She gently shook him. “Go back to bed.”

He ran a hand over his face. “I’m all right now.”

He yawned then began to eat.

“You don’t have to stay up with me. I’m okay, really,” she said, forcing a smile.

“Really?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He sighed then stood and shuffled past her, placing a kiss on her cheek before he went back upstairs.

 

***

 

The night was heavy and warm as Sean drove them home from watching fireworks on the bay for the Fourth of July. Twice she thought about calling Michelle, but knew her sister would need more time. She’d created another gel, but it wasn’t selling as quickly as the peppermint gel had. She remembered getting her spirits lifted by visiting Second Chances bookstore and telling Pernelle some of her troubles, when Pernelle had seen Teresa looking at some business books.

“You married him?” Pernelle said, stopping Teresa halfway. She shook her head, perplexed. “Did you say you
married
Sean Casey?”

Teresa nodded surprised that was the only part of her story that interested her. But then she had to remember they had a history. “I know I should have told you since—”

“It’s better that you didn’t,” she said, waving Teresa’s words aside. She glanced at something outside the window. “I guess he’s really gotten over her,” she said in an odd tone.

“He’s changed.”

Pernelle looked at Teresa and her face brightened into a smile. “I guess what’s past is past, right? No wonder you haven’t stopped by like you used to. You shouldn’t read books, you should write them.”

But as Teresa sat beside Sean as he maneuvered the truck through the winding roads, she wondered what her next chapter would be. What would she do if the shop didn’t survive? Would her relationship with her sisters ever be the same? She sighed, then paused.

“What’s that smell?” she asked.

Sean looked at her. “What?”

“That smell.”

He sniffed the air then shifted gears with a frown. “I don’t know.” He abruptly pulled over to the side of the road amid some honking protests.

He didn’t want to worry her, but he had a feeling of dread. Priscilla usually didn’t disappoint him, but she wasn’t moving or picking up as she should and he didn’t like that smell.

“Get out of the car!” he ordered, unlatching his seat belt. Just as the words left his mouth, the front hood burst into flames.

He jumped out and ran. He was a few feet away when he realized that Teresa wasn’t behind him.

He turned and saw her still trapped inside the truck, struggling with her seat belt as the flames grew. And as he rushed forward he died a thousand deaths angered that he hadn’t fixed something so simple as a tricky seat belt. He swung open the door, the heat of the flames sneaking closer as they ran along the dashboard. Soon the fire would jump to her seat and engulf them both. He grabbed for the metal lock, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Leave me,” she said, sweat sliding down her face.

“Never,” he said with fierce determination. If nothing else, he’d die with her. He tugged on the seat belt, hoping some super human strength would help him, but it wouldn’t disconnect. He thought of the night he received the phone call that Renee had died in a fiery crash. He remembered seeing the wreckage of her burnt out Mercedes and the tiny charred remains that had been used to identify her.

He wasn’t burying another wife. He saw the flames clawing at Teresa’s jeans and tried one last tug, willing to rip the seat apart if he had to—the lock disengaged and broke free. He grabbed Teresa and pulled her out.

Within seconds the passenger side was engulfed in flames. Neither spoke as they lay on the ground, staring at how close they had come to death.

 

***

 

Following the terrifying event, Sean’s sleepless nights returned with a vengeance. Any time he closed his eyes, he saw Teresa trapped and her face would blend with that of Renee’s, who looked at him with a cool smile. Teresa tried to ease his insomnia with an elixir she made, but it did little to help. He felt on edge.

“There’s something wrong, Mother, I can feel it,” Sean told Bertha as they sat in her kitchen the scent of spiced tea in the air. “There was nothing wrong with Priscilla before.”

“At least you’re all right.”

He set his tea cup down afraid he would break it. The mechanic’s conclusion that his truck had an undiagnosed leak that contributed to the fire didn’t sit well with him. “If anything happened to Teresa because of me—”

“But it didn’t.”

“But it could.”

“Do you still blame yourself for your wife’s death?”

“I have to keep Teresa safe,” he said glancing out the window, avoiding the question and Bertha’s keen gaze. “I have this feeling that someone’s trying to hurt her.”

“Who?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. And I know it doesn’t make sense.”

Bertha fell silent, then said in a soft tone, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth.”

Sean sat back in his chair, resigned. “I’ve started seeing her again. Worse than before. Every time I close my eyes I see her face and now I think I’ve actually seen her.” He didn’t want to share that several times he’d followed a woman, certain it was Renee, but she always eluded his reach. “I’m chasing shadows and ghosts.”

“Or something you’ve always feared to be true.”

A wave of apprehension swept through him, he didn’t want her to give voice to what had driven him to hide away. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said quickly. He glanced at his watch. He had to pick Teresa up from the store since he was driving her car. They would soon have to look at getting another car and this time he would make sure it was solid. He stood up and thanked Bertha for listening.

“You’re not crazy, Sean,” Bertha said, following him to the door. “If you believe nothing else, believe that.” She touched his necklace and he thought he could feel the tiny amber stones heat up. “You are strong enough to fight this.”

He thought of Bertha’s words as he and Teresa drove up to their house. No, their
home,
Sean thought, looking at the structure in a new way. Rather than being the hideaway it had once been, now every room had a special meaning to him. He wouldn’t let his nightmares steal what he’d fought hard to reclaim—a place where he belonged.

Teresa pointed to an unfamiliar vehicle in the driveway. “Looks like we have visitors,” she said.

Sean parked the car in grim defeat. “Shit, they found me.”

 

 

Chapter Thirty-one

 

“Who’s ‘they’?” Teresa asked unbuckling her seat belt.

He swore under his breath, wanting to break something, but he didn’t want to upset her. “You’ll see.” He walked up to the door and put the key in the lock. “Follow my lead.”

He opened the door and turned on the lights.

“No one’s here,” she whispered.

“They’re here.”

He went into the living room and turned on the lights. Although Teresa was prepared for a surprise, nothing could have prepared her for the two people occupying the living room. She gave a small gasp and bumped into Sean when she saw two giants who reeked of money and status.

One stood next to Sean’s chair. He was the color of nutmeg with grey eyes and a thin mouth. A strong hand gripped a heavy wooden cane. He wore expensive pale jeans and a designer T-shirt. The man next to him was slighter in build, although just as impressive with brown eyes and a friendly smile. He took care with his attire, and she could see his sneakers were top of the line, and his blue shirt and trousers wrinkle free.

“Well, we didn’t expect guests so let me get you something to drink,” she said. Before anyone could disagree, she raced to the kitchen to collect herself, but didn’t have the chance. She found two more guests in the kitchen. A woman with frizzy hair and chocolate freckles on her nose stared at Teresa. A young man, who was rummaging in the fridge, closed it and stared at Teresa through his dark rimmed glasses while holding an apple in his mouth. Teresa stood speechless. Sean came up behind her and took her hand, leading her back into the living room. “Let’s make some introductions.”

“Who’s that?” Grey Eyes asked, the cadence of his island lilt harsher than Sean’s. He was now seated with his cane resting against the chair.

Sean took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you’re all right,” the woman said.

“As you can see, I’m fine.”

“At last you got a haircut,” Friendly Eyes said, rubbing Sean’s head.

Grey Eyes looked at Teresa. “Why don’t you introduce us to your—” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Wife,” Sean said.

“Again?” Grey Eyes said in a quiet tone.

Sean didn’t seem affected by the obvious disapproval. He turned to Teresa. “Let me introduce you to my family. That’s my elder brother Evan.” Grey Eyes gave a curt nod. “Then there’s Robert.”

He smiled flirtatiously and bowed over her hand. “They call me the robber of lonely hearts.”

“You can call him something else,” Sean said dryly. “I’ll give you a few suggestions later.”

“I’m Darcy,” the woman said, taking Teresa’s hand. The gesture was an attempt to put her at ease, but Teresa could feel the way her eyes measured her, wondering what had persuaded her brother to marry her.

“And the last one here is Patrick.”

“I thought you said you had five siblings,” Teresa said.

“Cameron couldn’t make it,” Evan said.

Teresa smiled. “It’s nice to meet all the Caseys in one place.”

“Caseys?” Evan said. “We’re not—”

“Staying long, I hope,” Sean cut in, sending his brother a look.

“I know this is bit of a shock,” Teresa said feeling the sudden tension in the room. “Would you like a cup of tea? I’ll go make a pot.”

“We’re not tea drinkers,” Evan said in his gritty voice. “How about something stronger?”

“I’ll get coffee then,” she said and left the room.

“Who the hell is that?” Evan demanded once she was gone.

“I already told you,” Sean said.

“And what’s with this place?” Patrick asked, looking at the candles, the velvet pillows, and drying herbs. “You’d think we were in the presence of a witch.”

Sean’s silence said it all. Their eyes widened.

“You married a witch!” Patrick said, intrigued.

“She’s not a witch,” Sean said. “She’s a healer.”

Evan shook his head. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”

“Yes,” Sean said through set teeth, sending Robert a cold look. “I was crazy to call you. Did you find anything?”

“We’re still digging,” Robert said, unmoved by his brother’s look. “It’s a big company.”

“And we like to be thorough,” Evan added.

“This isn’t a game,” Sean said, annoyed by his brother’s cavalier attitude. “I really needed your help. That company—”

“We’re on it,” Robert said. “I promise.”

Sean rubbed his chin. “What are you doing here?”

“We already told you.” Evan shook his head, looking around the room. “You’ve really gone off the deep end.”

Sean glared at him. “That’s right, or have you forgotten. I’m the one that’s crackers. I’m the one who’s haunted by his dead wife.”

“And lying to his second. Why didn’t you tell her your real surname?”

“I legally changed it.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“You need to come back and seek help.”

“Listen, I wanted a new life and I got one and—”

The conversation dropped when Teresa entered. She could feel the tension, but knew better than to say anything. They all took their coffee and ate their snacks and stared at her except for Patrick, who delighted in toying with a string of crystals hanging near the window.

“So how did you meet?” Darcy asked.

“I met him at the bay.”

“And how long have you known him?” Robert asked.

“A couple of months.”

Evan tapped the head of his cane. “How do you earn a living?”

“I used to teach piano. But now I own a store—”

Patrick spoke up. “You play the piano? Could you play something for us?”

His three older siblings glared at him, and the idea was dismissed.

“I guess I’ll get dinner on,” Teresa said.

“Don’t bother. I’m already doing that,” Darcy said. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’ve always made myself at home in Sean’s house. We always know where he hides his key.”

And Darcy’s look told Teresa that Sean’s family knew a lot more about him than she did.

“Why don’t you go wash up?” Sean suggested.

It was clear they wanted her to leave, so that they could talk about her. Teresa bowed out gracefully and went upstairs, hoping another Casey wouldn’t pop up.

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