A Chance Mistake (11 page)

“Pottery? What kind of pottery?” Nesta focused on Dafina.

With her aunt’s surprised words, Dafina turned noncompliant and shrugged a shoulder. She popped another crisp in her mouth to avoid speaking.

“It’s interesting—made from natural clay—from nearby. Well, the backyard actually.” Kory tried to explain.

She wished, hoped, prayed he’d stay longer.

“Doesn’t that make holes in the property? What
will
you do with all the holes, dear?” Nesta foisted her glare on her once again.

“I took the clay from the flowerbeds and replaced the area with good soil.”

“Plus you have plans for the bed and breakfast in the cottage.” Kory touched her hand under the table.

“Yes. And of course, I’ll still work at It’s a Mystery. Because I enjoy it.” She gave a brave smile. True, she liked the work. “Even though I wouldn’t have to, because of Kory’s successful career.”

Nesta’s eyes brightened. “I see. So the future holds writing ripping good books—

Ripping literally.

—and having children.” Nesta smiled sweetly. “How many?” Her eyes softened and she lifted her eyebrows.

Kory squeezed Dafina’s hand. “Two, maybe more.”

His eyes looking lovingly into hers and he squeezed her hand once more.

****

Kory hoped he’d pleased Dafina with his answers. There wasn’t any way to tell from her expressions. His heart had thudded at the look of gratitude and fondness in her eyes, but perhaps the emotions were only acted out for Auntie’s sake.

He sat in the backseat of Dafina’s car as she drove them home, like he had numerous times. He rather liked it, being able to zone out and let the two women talk in the front seats.

With Nesta’s visit ending tomorrow, Dafina would certainly want him to leave. Retiring to her room right after dinner last night only proved that she’d had enough of Auntie’s company—enough of him. But how could he leave her with a killer on the loose, targeting blondes. He’d made sure to check out the news each night on the television. They’d shown pictures of the victims, all beautiful blondes. When he’d looked at Dafina to see her reaction, she’d kept her eyes on the screen with her hand resting by her neck. Fear seemed to grip her, but when she turned to speak to him, her cool composer had reset itself.

As soon as he entered her home, he strode ahead of them and turned on the news. Breaking news flashed on the screen, giving him a cold shiver. What horrible thing had happened?

“Lord, save us. Another killing.” Auntie gripped Dafina’s arm.

“But look, he’s moved out of Wales and into England. The murder ‘appended in Bristol a couple of days ago,” Dafina said, “and they’ve just now found the body.

Kory couldn’t concentrate on Nesta’s reply. She said something about being safe now, or maybe her travels would be safe. He not only felt dire sadness over the loss of life, but he no longer had the excuse of staying a bit longer to protect her.

That evening after watching shows with the women and making small talk, Kory made sure enough time had passed for Dafina to be asleep. He slipped outside to retrieve his purchases from the car trunk. As soundlessly as he could, he brought the bags inside and headed up the stairway to the second floor bedroom. The moonlight drifted into the room as before, but he flicked on a light.He picked up the brown bedcover from the floor. Surely it was George’s or something Dafina had gotten to please him as being masculine. But it was drab, ugly. Kory folded it and pressed it into the smallest shape he could get, stuffed it into a garbage bag, and stowed it away in a closet.

He pulled out lavender sheets and a soft tartan blanket with colors of green, pink and lavender. No orange, but he guessed he couldn’t have everything. He made the bed and stood back surveying his work. Not bad. He placed two pillows on the bed shaped like flowers, a lighter pink than in the blanket. He’d also gotten a framed print of a garden scene which he set against a wall. He couldn’t go hammering a nail into the wall since it would awaken the ladies. Besides that, he didn’t have a hammer or nail.

As he looked at the bare walls, he noticed a nail on the wall behind the bed and hung the picture. Dafina had said that she would never come up to the room again. But if she did, hopefully what he’d done would help her to see that things weren’t as they used to be. Time had moved on, and there could be hope and beauty.

He headed down the stairs. One of the steps creaked and another joined in.

Chapter 15

Dafina woke up before her alarm, not sleeping well as she tried to listen to any sound in the night. She’d awakened shortly after she fell asleep, thinking she heard a noise on the stairs. Bad memories swarmed through her mind of waiting for George to come up the stairs. Too many times he’d tell her he would be right up, then never came. Or he’d stumble up the steps later, drunk, off his trolley. Aye, the whole thing not working out was for the best, but for him to say she was to blame, the worst.

She pushed away the bad thoughts, showered and dressed. Kory, bless him, appeared to be sleeping soundly on the couch. She doubted Nesta ever noticed him sleeping there. He made sure to awaken in good time and be dressed ready for the day before her aunt even stirred.

In the kitchen, she mixed up dough for tea cakes. She could send some with Kory when he left. Hopefully he wouldn’t set off on foot. He did know better than that, didn’t he?

“God, please protect him,” she whispered as she looked at the dough.

“Why, sweet pea, did you put poison in the batter?” Kory whispered back.

Dafina threw her arm up in surprise, smacking him on the nose with the gooey spoon.

“Oh, you’re the bomb all right.” Dafina laughed. “Startled me to death, you did.”

He smiled and wiped his nose. “Need some help?”

“You want to help?”

He nodded with a slight smile.

“All right then.”

“Give me one minute,” he said.

She waved her spoon for him to hurry. He took off in a jog. A short moment passed, and a distant spraying water sound told her that he was taking a shower.

She sat down to read her book. Carl had become an older man with streaks of gray at his temples. He used all his money and free time to study science and mathematics for years on end. How could that possibly help his problem? Dafina wondered. Surely, he’d been the focus of a demonic attack. Why couldn’t Carl see that? He’d had a flashback as a child walking with his mother in town. A crazy woman in a black cloak had cursed them. Shortly after that, the shadows came. Carl had reasoned that he’d been able to remember the terrible scene, since he’d stimulated his foggy mind with intense study.

“No, Carl. You need to get on your knees and pray for help!” she told the book.

She felt a presence in the room and looked up. Kory stood in the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed. It was only him, not a shadowy specter from the book.

“I’m ready to help.”

“Making tea cakes, we are.”

He smiled. “Awesome.”

She prepared an area on the counter, added a flattened a round of dough, and handed him a wooden rolling pin. Kory appeared doubtful as he took it. To add to his problems, she explained in Welsh. He rolled the dough several times then glanced at her. He’d attained the right thickness, so she handed him a round biscuit cutter. He cut out the tea cakes, and she placed them on a metal baking sheet for the oven. She continued in her native language, telling him that sometimes she fried them in a skillet, then added that he was a sweet boy for helping her. And that she loved him dearly.

“Now is the part when I tell you that I speak fluent Welsh.” He crossed his arms and gave her a silly grin.

“What? I don’t believe it.” A combination of surprise and disbelief swept through her.

“You’re right. I don’t.” He pointed to the oven dial. “Isn’t the oven’s temperature too high?”

She shook her head slightly. “The popty is set right.”

“Popty. Oh, that’s cute. So you have a popty-ping and a popty?” He gave a lighthearted smile. “But are you sure? The setting was lower—before when you made them. I happened to notice. One of the things I saw when I came in the kitchen. You know, writer’s eye for details.”

“I had it set lower because I was waiting on—” Oh, no. She couldn’t say because she was waiting on him. How would he take it? It was supposed to be on the odd chance mistake that he came upon her house. He’d think for sure that she’d planned this whole debacle with Nesta. Not the truth at all. She worried about his welfare on the bike path. Right?

“You were waiting on…?” He took on an analyzing quality with his eyes focused on a distant object out the window.

Guilt plagued her. He’d figure it out. Him and his blooming details.

Footfalls headed toward them. He stepped toward her and put his arms around her. She was enveloped in warmth and his spicy scent.

“Dears, I heard the clatter of pans. What are you—” Nesta’s voice came from around the corner, and then she appeared. “—baking?”

Kory held Dafina in his arms and kissed her.

Chapter 16

Later in the day, a lumbering, diesel-smelling bus carried Kory away from Dafina’s village. The time had come to leave. He knew it was inevitable, but that hadn’t made it any easier. He pulled out a tea cake from his bag and took a bite. His thoughts slipped back to the morning to see Dafina in his mind’s eye. Pretty in pink and speaking in Welsh. Even though he couldn’t understand the words, what a pleasure. He was gone from his world into another realm.

When he’d heard Auntie come near, he headed for the kiss. How could he miss his last chance? Dafina would think he did it only to play along with her charade, but to him it meant much more. Could she see that his gesture, even though short and sweet, was the genuine deal? That he was genuine?

They’d eaten the tea cakes that they made together and headed for church. Auntie demanded that he drive them there, and she’d sit in the backseat. Fear clutched his gut, and he teased that they’d better start praying before they got there. Dafina whispered to him that she’d help him—which she did—not that he needed it. Driving on the wrong side of the road from the wrong side of the car was like a thrill ride, especially since he hadn’t driven in so many years. He could
easily
get used to it.

The size and shape of Dafina’s church reminded him of small country churches in America, but it was constructed of stone with arched windows and an amazing thatched roof. A sign proclaimed:
Visitors and Tourists Welcome
. Inside, white walls displayed paintings in the style of old icons, simplistic with warm, bold colors and gold. Each picture depicted a story in Jesus’s life.

“An artist ‘appened by our church, and we commissioned the works of art. Brilliant, aren’t they?” Dafina had whispered in his ear when they’d seated. “We ‘ave three services each Sunday. Families and couples on ‘oliday come. Some of them told our pastor they’d never set foot in a church before.”

“Wonderful,” he’d whispered back.

The bus lurched to a stop, intruding on his thoughts.

He hated to leave, but he told her he’d return. The time away from each other would flesh out their true feelings. He hoped that she’d miss him—that he wasn’t just a guy who came along in time to help her. He fiddled with his phone and brought up a selfie of the two of them.
Platinum Princess you are beautiful.

Something that she’d said from the morning niggled in his mind. She had set the oven temperature lower because she was
waiting on
— What was it?
Good grief.
Certainly not the mail delivery. Not Hoover or his goat.
Was she waiting on Kory to come by on his bike? A shiver of surprise cooled the back of his neck.

He reviewed the past events in his mind. Their first conversation. He needed a bike to travel the trails. She had tried to persuade him against it then sent him next door. She was the phone call to Bobi! That had to be it. She’d told him to draw the map and Kory
was
the
regular dumbbell
. He laughed out loud, garnering a glance from an older couple across the aisle from him. True, he was alone, but wasn’t he allowed to think of something funny?

Dafina. She did care. And here he was, speeding away from her in a big metal bus.

He looked for the map he’d purchased at her bookstore. Gone.
No!

Kory found the paper with the hand-drawn map and checked the spelling of her village. While passing through the different towns, the names ran together. The foreign sounds made his head spin, and he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t keep a grasp on them. He seriously wondered if he’d lost his mental strength. Her village was spelled,
Llynyffe
. Wait. Was that right? He could barely make out the writing. Would he ever find her again? Not good, not good at all. Well, at least he knew where she worked and the town was close to Cardiff. He also, of course, knew her name and had written down her phone number—if he got that right.

Time ticked by, the sun went down, and he found that he’d zoned out. The darkening, brooding sky brought him to a lonely, sad, and, frankly, a scared state of mind. Black shadows hung close to the seats around him. Natural shadows. Natural shadows, he repeated to himself. He only hoped that he wasn’t on the edge of slipping down a demonic, rabbit hole into something worse.

He focused his attention out the window to the slumbering giants in the distance that looked like mountains. Any minute they could rise up and— He slipped a hand in his backpack to retrieve another tea cake and took a bite. He really needed to let go of his imagination for a while—hang it up like a jacket and put it away.

The bus neared a village with a name spelled with all consonants and a Y. Oh yeah, he was sure to remember that one. How was it even possible to pronounce? At any rate, the warm golden glow from the hotel windows, emanating from the stone building, beckoned him. He could barely keep his eyes open. He grabbed his backpack and the orange cloth suitcase that Dafina gave him. She’d insisted he take it for his new clothes.

People hurried off the bus with him. His inner voice told him that he needed to be aware of his surroundings. He was too tired to care.