Healing Hands (The Queen of the Night series Book 2) (12 page)

Pat said, “You’re a head-of-household now Rose, you have to go up there. Take some milk.”

“Oh yeah,” Rose smiled, “I guess I am a head-of-household now. Okay, I’ll be back.”

As I watched, Rose and many other people left their places at the tables and walked toward the plow, carrying a glass. Several had milk, I could tell because the liquid was white. Others carried a brown liquid.

“What’s happening?” I asked Evan.

“It’s part of the Imbolc-Candlemas celebration. We cover the lucky plow with milk and whiskey and ask the magical community for aid in bringing us a prosperous farming season.”

“Oh, more scotch. I see.”

After the procession finished and the plow swam in disgusting goo, everyone sat down and started digging into the breakfast feast. Rose and I received many compliments on our Caledonian cream. The oatcakes were delicious when covered in fruit and syrup with Crowdie cheese on the side.

Someone brought out a portable radio and turned it up for all to hear. It played a news broadcast from Gobblers Knob, Pennsylvania. When the prognostication was announced there were many groans from all around the tables. Pat sat back in his chair.

“Well, we already figured that out, didn’t we?  We can expect six more weeks of winter. I’ll bring you more firewood, Rose.”

Just then we were visited by Madison.

“So, have you two announced a date, then?”  She asked acerbically.

Everyone within hearing range stopped eating and looked at her.

Evan put down his fork and sat back. “You know, Madison, it’s quite rude to spread false rumors. You know that no clan rules are being broken here. Why are you trying to create trouble?”

“It just seems suspicious that a Healer and a Seer would spend so much time together. The two of you are practically inseparable. Everyone can see it. The danger of losing another generation of Healers and Seers to the selfish whims of a MacDougall should be obvious to all of us.”

I was about to explode. Only a gentle touch of Evan’s hand on my knee under the table stalled my tongue. Did Madison believe if she could force me out of the picture, not that I was in the picture, she would have a better chance at winning him?  Or was she resigned to the knowledge he’d never want her, so she was going to try and cause as much pain as possible. I really didn’t know what she was trying to do.

Apparently Evan did. “You’re drunk, Madison…again. Go home and get sober.” 
Ah
, I thought,
it was scenario number two
. She’s trying to hurt us.

Then Corey piped up and said something unusual. “You know, having friends can be a comfort. It’s too bad you don’t have any or you might not have to resort to crashing parties to get attention. Did they figure out how your dad died yet?” 

I stomped Corey’s foot.

He shut up. I was really impressed with his astute observation about friendship, but if I wasn’t mistaken, I had just heard Corey admit to having a vision about another person’s memory. Someone helped Madison leave the clearing. She must have been drunk. She could barely walk.

Corey had had a vision of a past event.
Wasn’t that one of the super rare gifts that Evan had mentioned
?  I hadn’t asked Jenny about Corey’s progress in Seer training. I would have to now. It wasn’t appropriate for me to run over to her during the party, but soon, I’d have to talk to her.

Chapter Seventeen

Fallout

Groundhog Day fell on a Saturday. I didn’t want to wait until the following Tuesday to ask about Corey’s training, so, when I called Jenny to arrange a meeting, her response somewhat surprised me.

“Oh, hello Maggie, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Keach. How are you this evening?”

“Call me Jenny, dear. I’m doing well. The ceremony was lovely this morning. I hope you know how welcome you are into the clan.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Keach.”

“Call me Jenny, please. I’m so glad you called. I wanted to talk to you, and I didn’t want to wait until Tuesday.”

“That’s why I called, Jenny. I wondered if we could meet sooner. Wait, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I’d prefer to talk in person. You should come over to the house for Sunday dinner. What do you say?”

“Sure, I’d love to have dinner with your family.”

“Good, I’ll send Evan to pick you up around 5. We can talk before we eat.”

“That sounds wonderful, I’ll see you then.”

***

The Keach house wasn’t far from my own, and on a warm day it would have made a pleasant walk, but it had started to snow again, so I was grateful that Evan waited in front of the house with a warm SUV. Rose gave me the rest of the Caledonian cream as a hostess gift. With my hands full, I had trouble keeping my balance on the slushy sidewalk. Before I’d even noticed him get out of the driver’s seat, he stood at my side, steadying me and opening the car door.

“Thanks,” I said, shyly. I had no idea why breathing became difficult, or why I felt apprehensive. It seemed like I’d known him forever. I’d certainly been touched by him more intimately than a hand under my elbow, but the gesture seemed so classically chivalrous, I accepted the role of damsel in distress. These thoughts made me pissed off at myself, since I was not, in any way, helpless. At the same time, a secret part of me hoped he’d always be there to keep me from falling when I lost my balance. Completely wrapped up in my internal argument, I didn’t hear his question.

“I said, are you coming over to talk to Mom about Corey’s little slip-up yesterday?”

“Yes, I am, but she said she wants to talk to me about something, also.”

“I have something I want to tell you, too. Do you mind if I sit in on your discussions with Mom?”

“Of course I wouldn’t mind. Why would you even need to ask?  What’s for dinner?”

“Luckily for you, Dad’s cooking. He’s making Boeuf Bourguignonne. What’s in the bowl?”

“It’s Rose’s Caledonian cream.”

“That’s lucky for us, yum.”

Evan pulled into a driveway on a quaint, older, residential street much like mine. The Keach house had similar architecture to the sunny, yellow house, but was much larger. It also had an attached garage and was newer. A welcoming light came from most of the windows and, as we got closer to the front door, sounds of family life drifted toward me. Jenny shouted something to Evan’s younger siblings.

She emerged into the foyer wearing a worn, gray smock covered in splatters of paint. “There you are, welcome Maggie. Leave your coat and boots by the front door.” 

After pulling of my boots, I approached her in my stocking feet, jeans and sweater.

“Follow me up to my studio. I have to clean my brushes before dinner.”  She started walking up the stairs and I followed. After a couple of seconds, she stopped, turned around and said to Evan, “Where are you going?”

He started to protest. “She said I could join you.”

Jenny thought for a moment. “Oh, all right.”

***

Her studio encompassed the entire attic of the house. The daylight was rapidly fading, but natural sunlight filtered into the room gloriously during the early morning hours. She had several easels and a stool positioned right by the windows facing the street. The partially finished paintings on the easels all had pastels of woodland creatures frolicking in a meadow.

“These are lovely.”

“Oh thank you, dear.”

“Mom illustrates children’s books,” Evan offered.

“That’s wonderful!” I meant it. Her paintings were good.

“I’m just going to soak these brushes in thinner. Why don’t you guys get comfortable over there?”  She gestured toward the center of the space, which contained two overstuffed and well-used love seats, a recliner and a large, square, low coffee table. She walked to the other side of the attic, where she had a utility sink, a counter, several open shelving units and a couple of cabinets. I took a seat on one of the love seats and Evan sat next to me.

She started talking first. “Maggie, what did you want to talk to me about?”  She worked as she listened.

“I needed to find out from you what gifts Corey has acquired and to get your opinion on how he’s progressing with learning to control them.”

“I see. Well,” she looked pensive for a second, wiped her hands on her smock and came over to take a seat in the recliner. “It appears your gifts have been split mostly along gender lines. Corey is by far a more powerful Seer than you are. As a matter of fact, he’s almost as talented as Evan. He doesn’t seem to have any Healer gifts. You have a few Seer gifts, but your real power will be in your ability to heal.” 

I was worried about whether I had
any
ability to heal, but I kept silent. This was not the time or person for that discussion, so I nodded.

“Yesterday, Mom,” Evan cut in, “he implied he’d seen a vision of Madison McLeod’s dad. Do you know anything about that?”

“He did have one dream vision about Madison’s father. He seemed disturbed by the vision and we spent a lot of time talking about it. He thinks Madison might have had a hand in causing her father’s accident. I told him not to discuss the vision with anyone. We can’t afford for him to be exposed as having magical gifts.”

I groaned, running my hands through my hair, “I stopped him from saying anything else. I hope no one overheard him.”

“Madison heard him,” Evan frowned.

“Yes, but she was drunk. No one will believe her.”

“I hope not,” he said. “So what other gifts have emerged, Mom?”

“He’s strong with the basics. He can see auras. He can feel harmonic vibrations if he stops moving and concentrates. He hardly ever stops talking,” she commented absently. Both Evan and I chuckled in agreement. Then she added, “He sees a lot of visions of the two of you, but I wonder if he’s making those up.”

“Probably,” Evan and I said in unison, maybe a little too quickly.

“He’s been seeing a lot of visions about Madison. They’ve made him upset on more than one occasion.”

“Do you know if he saw the same vision Maggie dreamed about the other day,” Evan asked, slowly.

“He doesn’t want to talk about those visions, so I’m not sure. I don’t want to pry too much, you know. There’s a whole etiquette and a responsibility which goes along with this profession. If I want him to adopt sensitive behaviors, then I need to afford him the same level of discretion and privacy.” 

I agreed.

Evan had a suggestion, “Perhaps if you show him your dream diary, he’ll tell you what he’s seen, Maggie.”

“It’s worth a try.”

A voice, which sounded very much like Evan’s called up the stairs. “Dinner’s ready!”  Evan and I started to rise, but Jenny gestured for us to sit back. “They can wait a few minutes. It’s my turn to talk to you, Maggie.” 

I waited.

“I’ve had a dream vision, and it’s about you, dear.” 

Evan sat straight up next to me. He apparently didn’t know about this.

“In my dream you meet three beautiful ghosts. Now, Seers can sometimes communicate with their ancestors, but here’s the thing, these woman all had tanned skin. They dressed in ceremonial Native American outfits. You need to trace your family tree and find out who in your lineage is a full-blooded Cherokee. When they come to visit you, you’ll want to know who they are so you can heed what they say. Do you understand?”

I nodded, “I think so.” 

Next to me, Evan was thinking.

I turned to face him. “Your turn…what did you want to say?”

He shook his head. “We can talk after dinner.”

***

I was glad Evan waited so the meal with his family was relaxed and enjoyable. I wasn’t sure when I’d get to spend more time with them. His dad, named Bob, was a fantastic cook. His little brother Brandon, only a couple of years younger than me, was a fellow nerd. His absolutely adorable baby sister was Corey’s age, and just as exuberant about life. In comparison, I often thought Corey had an old-soul wisdom, where Alyssa was just sweet. She turned out to be one of the kids in his class who had befriended him. I really liked Evan’s family. Jenny hugged me when the time came for me to leave, so Alyssa, they called her Lissy, did too. I regretted not being able to stay longer, but the snow had started to stick on the streets and the temperature had plummeted. Two inches already covered the lawn. I bundled up and trudged out to the Jeep.

Once driving, Evan cleared his throat.

I looked at him expectantly.

“I think there will be some fallout from Madison’s outburst yesterday.”

“What kind of fallout?”

“Even though she was drunk, and most people will disregard anything she said, a few people will agree with her. I mean, given your parent’s history, they’re bound to jump to some conclusions.”

I absorbed his opinion. Slowly, I asked, “Okay, so what do you think we should do about it?”

“I think we should start dating.”

“Huh?”  He surprised me so much I did the cockatoo head-tilt thing, but he wasn’t finished. “…other people, that is. Not each other, obviously…” 
Obviously???  Really??? Who jumped whom on Hogmanay
?  And damn his ability to read my expressions so well. He still blustered through his prepared speech. “…if we did go out with other people, those who question our relationship would relent. It would take the scarlet letter off you; I can’t stand it when people say rude things behind your back.”

“What you mean, is
you
want to date someone other than me,” I said clearly and succinctly. My head reeled. I still tried to process the concept of
anyone
dating anyone else.

“Well, yeah…” he finished futilely.

Somewhere from deep down inside emerged a grace I didn’t know existed.
How much time had he spent carrying me through all of my personal drama
?  He was a seventeen-year old, healthy, red-blooded male. Of course he wanted to date. I had no claim to him. He really didn’t even have to ask my permission, but he was kind enough to ask anyway.

I nodded my head. “Yeah, I agree. It’s a good idea.”  Thankfully my voice didn’t crack.

His did. “Okay.” 

I opened the door and stepped out. He made no move to get out and help me to the porch. That hurt most of all.