Just Believe (23 page)

Gaelen looked around, then noticed the
potted plant beside the door. He stooped down and settled Annabelle
across his lap while he fingered in the pot for the key.

"Thank you, darlin'. We're quite a
team, aren't we?"

He was rewarded by a sweet, sleepy
smile as she snuggled on his shoulder. A moment later he had the
door open and carried her inside. There was no sound in the house,
so Susan must be asleep.

"First door on the right," she
muttered, snuggling again, even closer to him.

"Yes, my lady."

He took her to her room and laid her on
the bed. After he took off her shoes, he pulled a light cover over
her, tucking it in around her as though she were a
child.

Standing by the bed, he gazed at her,
marveling in the softness and steel that formed her character.
She'd not turned tail nor quailed from the task at hand.

He was fortunate to have such a partner
as Annabelle in this business.

"Good night, love," he whispered,
bending over to lay a kiss on her forehead.

Annabelle opened her eyes. "You still
haven't told me your plan."

"We'll have all the time we need on the
plane to discuss it. Go back to sleep. I'll call in the morning to
let you know about our flight."

"I'm sorry, Gaelen."

"For what?"

"If I were a fairy, too, we could fly
there, couldn't we?"

"I suppose. But we'll get there just
the same."

Her eyes fell closed and within a
minute, she was again breathing deeply. He slipped out of the
house, relocked the door, repotted the key--making a mental note to
scold Annabelle and her mother for putting a key to the house in
such a predictable place--and got back in his car. As he drove
home, he pondered the feelings that had blindsided him.

No, that wasn't true. He'd felt it from
the first, the draw, as though she held a string attached to his
heart. No matter where or how far away he went, the string would
always be there. She could play him out like a kite and bring him
in close as she willed. His only hope was that she never find out
her hold over him.

This business had long since gone from
simply ridding his brother of an unfortunate connection to a quest
to be performed for Annabelle. It was no longer enough for him to
get Lucas out of trouble. Erin also had to be freed, because
Annabelle wanted it.

He knew it wasn't possible to
contemplate a life with her or any mortal woman. He'd carefully
shielded himself from any entanglement with them. They were far too
much trouble.

But he owed her a debt.

Sure 'n' that's it. I'm just feeling
grateful for her good deed. Even as he reassured himself his
attraction was temporary, based on gratitude and the shared worry
over their siblings, he knew it was a lie. Once we've gotten Erin
and Lucas out of trouble, she'll go back to New York, and I'll be
here, and we'll never see each other again. No problem.

Sure, no problem. No problem except for
the emptiness already filling his soul.

No time to worry about that now,
Gaelen. Instead, think about the cost of two business class tickets
to Ireland.

Chapter Sixteen

"But, Annabelle, Erin is in the
hospital, in a coma. How can you possibly think of running off
now?"

Tossing in another pair of panties and
zipping the suitcase closed, Annabelle tried to be patient with her
mother.

"Mom, I promise you, if this wasn't for
Erin, I wouldn't go. I can't explain. You'll just have to trust
me."

"At least tell me where you're
going."

Gaelen had warned her not to give too
much away, and Annabelle struggled for a moment, trying to judge
what to say. But her mother needed to know at least this
much.

"Ireland," Annabelle said
simply.

"Ireland?" Her mother grabbed
Annabelle's wrist and held her tight. "Why?"

"I can't tell you."

Mom's gaze bore into hers. "It's them,
isn't it? They took my baby."

"Them?" Annabelle repeated
uncertainly.

"The Good Folk." She dropped down to
sit on the edge of the bed. "They're so careless with people's
feelings. First me. Now Erin."

Annabelle felt her heart slow
down.

"Mom, who are you talking
about?"

"The fairies."

"What do you know about the fairies?"
Mom looked away. Annabelle grabbed her shoulders and turned her.
"Tell me."

She met Annabelle's gaze and chuckled.
"Now I guess you'll want to put me in a home."

Annabelle had to smile in return.
"We'll see. Tell me about the fairies."

With a sigh, Mom nodded. "All right.
But I swear this is the gospel truth. No matter how it sounds." She
got off the bed and went to the window, staring out as she so often
did. "When I was young, even younger than you are now, dear, I was
as straight-headed and focused as you are." She glanced back with a
rueful smile. "You don't believe that, do you?"

Annabelle wouldn't admit she didn't.
Mom turned back to the window and went on.

"The summer I was twenty-two, I was
dating your father, but it hadn't gotten serious yet. I was on
vacation in Ireland with a couple of my friends. See, we'd decided
we'd have a tremendous fling, just once, before we settled
down."

Though her plane was due to leave in
just a couple of hours, she knew Mom's story was important enough
to hear out.

"Go on, Mom."

"The second night we were there, I ran
into a friend of Vern's. I'd met him a couple of times before. He
was very handsome, though a little short for my taste, and he
strutted like a bantam rooster and spoke with the most alluring
accent. So confident and sure of himself." A ghost of a smile
shadowed Mom's lips as she returned to that time. "Eochy O'Shea was
his name."

The name hit a chord of memory. Where
had she heard it before?

"What happened?"

She didn't look up. "He was very
attentive and so, so seductive." A quick glance toward Annabelle
revealed her sudden unease. "I won't go into all the lurid
details."

"Why not?" Annabelle sat up, eager to
hear the lurid details.

A warm laugh eased the tension.
"Because I'm your mother, and I'm not supposed to do things like
that."

"You. And he...?"

"Um-uh," Mom nodded. "I abandoned my
friends, and Eochy and I were together constantly for the whole
fourteen days. The last night before I was supposed to leave for
home, Eochy asked me if I wanted to see something wonderful." Her
mouth tightened in a ruefully humorous line. "I thought I already
had."

"Mom!"

"He told me I could never tell a soul
what he was about to show me. And, of course, I
promised."

"What did he show you?"

"Eochy stood in the middle of the floor
and, as he stood there, a light sort of blossomed around him like a
flower, then, out of nowhere these wonderful, beautiful,
translucent--" She glanced at Annabelle. "You'll think I'm crazy,
but I know what I saw. He had wings."

"Wings?"

"You do think I'm crazy. Poor silly
Mom."

"I believe you, Mom."

"Sure you do." Sarcasm dripped from her
mother's voice. "Don't patronize me, Annabelle."

Annabelle had never heard her mother
speak in such a tone.

"I do believe you. Really." She sat on
the bed and leaned forward.

Mom studied her, then went on. "He told
me there was even more. He made me close my eyes, and then he put
his arms around me and warned me not to look until he said to. I
felt lighter than a feather, and then I felt a breeze on my face."
Wonder shone on her face. "When I opened my eyes, we were in a
large hall. There were rows of tables loaded with food and wine and
so many beautiful people, dressed all in gold and silver, sitting
at the tables. And, oh, the flavor of the food."

She sighed. "The people danced and
laughed and sang. They welcomed me as though I was one of them. The
musicians played the most beautiful music. I can't even describe
it. It made me laugh and cry, and finally I fell into a wonderful
easy sleep. When I woke up, we were back in the hotel in Dublin. It
might have been a dream, because it seemed to me I had been there
for a long time, but it was the same day when I woke
up."

Another deep breath of longing seized
her. "I guess it doesn't matter if you believe me, anyway. I'm not
sure I believe me. But Vern did."

Somehow, Annabelle wasn't surprised he
had. Dad was a favorite, after all.

"You see, I had to tell him. I couldn't
make up anything to explain how I'd changed." Her eyes clouded and
unutterable sadness lined her face. Annabelle felt a tug of dread.
Her mother was getting old. Too soon, she would be gone. "I didn't
want to leave that splendid place. I begged Eochy to take me back
to stay forever. But he refused."

She faced Annabelle. "From that time to
this, I've been different. I can't put my mind to anything. I'm
always, still, thinking of that place where I saw wonders and
loveliness beyond imagining." She turned away, gazing out the
window. "I yearn to return there, to see and hear and taste like I
did that day. And it will never be."

As though she'd forgotten Annabelle was
there, Mom stared at nothing. Annabelle waited, seeing her flighty,
unfocused mother in a totally different light. Light reflected from
a totally different world.

Mom began to hum, a light tune, but one
carrying an undertone of sadness, loneliness, yearning. Annabelle's
hand covered her own heart to press away a knot of
sympathy.

"So, so beautiful," Mom murmured, still
staring out the window.

Then, her eyes widening, lips parting,
she jerked around, grabbing for Annabelle's arm.

"You're going to Ireland?" she asked,
as though their conversation had never taken its unexpected
turn.

Annabelle nodded, unable to form
words.

"Yes." Mom nodded wildly, her gaze
locking with Annabelle's, her grasp on Annabelle's wrist tightening
to a painful grip. "Yes. Go. Get Erin out of there before they do
the same thing to her." Annabelle barely had time to get her hand
on her suitcase before Susan jumped from the bed and dragged her
from the room and down the hall to the front door.

"I will, Mom," Annabelle
promised.

"Wait." Mom left Annabelle standing by
the open front door and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned
in a flash digging in her purse. As she pulled out her hand, a wad
of bills crumpled between her fingers, her face wrinkled in
concentration. "Here, take this."

Annabelle looked between the money to
her mother's face. "Mom, I have money."

"No. Take it." She pushed the money
into Annabelle's open shoulder bag. "You don't know if you might
need it. Do you have a credit card? Oh, what about
tickets?"

"Gaelen took care of the tickets."
Until that moment, Annabelle hadn't even thought about how much it
must have cost.

"Gaelen?" Mom lost her fiery
determination. Her eyes drifted from the frantic focus on the
danger to Erin to the far-off place where--Annabelle now
understood--she'd lived for so many years.

Go. Get her out of there before they do
the same thing to her.

"I'll get her out, Mom. Will you be all
right until I get back?"

"What?" Mom asked. Just as Annabelle
was about to panic at leaving her alone, she gritted her teeth and
drew a deep breath. "Yes, I'll be fine. Go." She wrapped Annabelle
in her arms and hugged her tight, then released her
abruptly.

Not quite reassured, Annabelle picked
up her suitcase and stepped out the door.

"Tell Gaelen I'm counting on
him."

Before Annabelle could turn to
acknowledge her mother's words, the door closed with a
click.

* * * *

She'd never considered Gaelen might
have bought business class seats. Even on her occasional business
trips, The Weekly Investigator never coughed up more than coach.
They'd have had her fly in the baggage compartment if they could
have.

"Ah, Ireland," Gaelen whispered. He
leaned over her to look out the window. "What do you think,
lass?"

Annabelle wasn't thinking about Ireland
at all. Gaelen's deep voice rumbled through her like a lover's
caress.

She turned away from him, pretending to
look, then found herself staring out the window at the emerald
shimmering in the ocean.

"It's so beautiful," she finally
replied.

"Aye, 'tis that."

Unable to stop herself, Annabelle let
her gaze meet his. His eyes traced her face, so closely she felt
the heat.

"Not so beautiful as you." Gaelen
leaned closer, his lips parted slightly, and Annabelle knew he was
about to kiss her. She anticipated the contact of his lips with
hers. Closer and closer.