Quintspinner (52 page)

“So where do you think they got to anyway?” Cassie was asking.

Tess, oblivious to Cassie’s question, stared at the retreating silhouette of Mambo and her heart began to race in her chest. It was then that she realized that she was still spinning her rings. Fidgeting with them was becoming an obsessive habit. Quickly she squelched their movements, holding them still. The series of a few insistent pictures continued to play over and over in her head.

“Tess?” Cassie’s gentle tug on her arm brought Tess out of her jumble of thoughts.

“Cass,” Tess replied in a wary tone, “I’ve just had a vision–at least that’s what I think it was–and I think we’d better get prepared.”

It was only a few heart-stopping minutes before William and Smith reappeared around the corner of one of the huts. The Mambo stood behind them and watched as they made their way back up the path. They stopped just short of Tess and Cassie, their faces creased with worry.

Tess’s heart pounded furiously and she felt the familiar vise-like grip of apprehension encircling her. She wasn’t sure if she could suffer through any more uncertainty, any more change in her life. Bathed in such thoughts, her anxiety began to build, crushing her as William began to speak.

“Uh, I was wondering if–if–” William stuttered shyly and glanced nervously at Smith who stood completely tongue-tied but who stared at the rings adorning Tess’s hand.

My God!
Tess was momentarily confused. It had not escaped her notice that the rings remained the objects of many envious glances and outright stares.
Was I wrong? Don’t tell me that they’re going to ask to use the rings to ransom our freedom! They might be the way to our freedom–but free to go where?
Protectively, she nestled one hand over the rings on her fingers. A clear picture flashed in her mind at that moment and she inhaled deeply, her heart pounding.

William tried again. “We talked to Mambo and she ….” William stopped and licked his lips, his mouth having suddenly gone dry.

Tess glanced at Cassie who looked no less anxious. In fact Cassie was visibly swaying, overcome with a dizziness that threatened to fell her. As Tess’s own apprehension exploded, Cassie began to crumple. Her collapse broke Smith out of his stupor and he threw himself forward, catching her in mid-fall. Clutching her to his chest, he lifted a panic-filled face towards Tess.

“Wha–what’s wrong with her?” he stammered.

“Nothing she won’t recover from,” Tess replied, more convinced than ever that the vision had somehow been a truthful glimpse into the near future.

Gathered in Smith’s arms, Cassie stirred and her eyes fluttered. She stared up at his face, her eyebrows raised in surprise, but she made no effort to move.

William continued to look from Smith and Cassie back to Tess and appeared as though he truly regretted having started this dialogue, and that he might consider fainting himself.

“Would you please speak your intended thoughts and spare us all any further anguish?” Tess demanded. She had not intended for her words to have sounded quite so harsh and for a moment she empathized with his discomfort. Tentatively William reached out for her hand and taking a breath, struggled to find his next words. Tess could stand it no longer.

“Oh for goodness sakes!” she exploded impatiently. “Yes! From both of us! We’ll give it serious consideration.”

Three pairs of eyes locked onto her in astonishment.

“Yes to what?” Cassie inquired, freeing herself from Smith’s arms and stumbling to her feet.

It was Tess’s turn to become overtaken with sudden embarrassment.
What if the vision was wrong? What if it was only my imagination?

A matching pair of face-splitting grins chased away the initial looks of shock on the faces of both William and Smith.

“You’ll agree to think about it?” William voiced his proposal aloud, his voice tight with hope.

Tess regarded Cassie, whose brows were gathered together in complete incomprehension.

“Yes to what? Tess! Surely you aren’t going to give up your rings!” Cassie’s accusation hung in the air.

“My rings?” Now it was Tess’s brows that pulled together in confusion. “Of course not!” She studied her sister’s worried face. And then it hit her.

Of course Cassie doesn’t understand–can’t understand what’s only been thought of and not yet said out loud!
The vision had been right. The rings really did have the powers.
I just have to learn to focus on their messages to me. To trust in myself, in my inner knowledge.
It was becoming easier. The rings were a part of her new future now and for the first time since having left London, Tess felt the cloak of sadness slipping off her shoulders. Change did not always have to be foreboding. She understood that now. Perhaps she had little control of what was to come, but she had full control over how she chose to respond. The realization left her speechless and a little lightheaded with the tingle of a faint but growing joy.

“We’ll build two more huts then,” Smith was announcing simply, having found his voice at last. “The Mambo’s agreed to do a ceremony of sorts,” he added, “if you’d be in agreement with makin’ do with the local customs ….”

“Ceremony?” Understanding slowly replaced the confusion in Cassie’s face and she gasped and blushed at the same time.

“Are you asking for my hand, Samuel?” she asked Smith unable to hide the incredulity in her voice.

“I’d like yer hand, yer heart, and … yup, I am,” Smith concluded, his attempt at a romantic reply petering out.

Tess stared at William, who stood before her, still lost for words. Shyly he raised one hand and made a fist then spread his fingers out.

Ooh-ah.
It was a choked whisper. He had barely mouthed the syllables out loud but there they were. Slowly reaching out to meet William’s outstretched palm with her own, Tess marveled at the strength and size of his hand compared to her own. His fingers curled and grasped hers, his touch as warm as the smile that was spreading across his face.

“It won’t matter who gives the blessings, will it? No matter how the ceremony’s done?” William asked, swallowing thickly.

Tentatively leaning forward, she touched her lips softly to William’s. As he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his mouth to hers, she felt him tasting her, inhaling her delicious scent, responding to her sweet breath upon his skin. Her lips lingered a moment longer upon his before she broke away, her voice full of promise.

“Our hearts will know the right words.”

Finding Mr. Lancaster resting in the cool shade of an overhanging bough, Tess squatted down to examine him. She had stopped by to treat his stump, as the tender skin covering the end of his amputation had been torn open by the reef when he had been swept ashore during the storm. Mambo had given a salve to Tess and she applied it carefully to his stump’s ragged wound. The carpenter scowled and grunted in discomfort, and then suddenly screeched, “Hold off! That burns like the flames of Hell, an’ I’d rather snuff it from the pus than to have ya’ burn me leg off a wee bit at a time!” His eyes bulged with indignation.

“Shush now, an’ hold still,” Mrs. Hanley scolded him and then added, “It’ll heal ya’ an’ I want ya’ to be in good enough form to dance with me at our weddin’.”

“What?” Tess asked in astonishment. She looked at her grandmother and then at her patient who suddenly stared at his bleeding stump with a freshly found intense interest.

“
Your
wedding? Whose idea was–?”

Tess’s incredulous inquiry was cut short by a cough and another grunt from Mr. Lancaster. He glanced at Tess for only a moment before dropping his gaze to study his leg once more.

“Your Gram, well, ya’ know how she feels about things happenin’ in three’s–fer good luck an’ all–an’ it seemed an alright thing to do ….” His voice trailed away and he shrugged his broad shoulders as though that was all the explanation in the world that was needed.

Tess looked at her grandmother who was grinning broadly, her news having been officially revealed.

“Can you use the ring, darlin’? To help his leg heal up quick, I mean.”

“Gram,” Tess began, examining the three rings upon her fingers.
Their brilliance in the tropical sunlight is remarkable. Almost like a rainbow of colors upon my hand.
“Do you really believe the story about these rings and why they were made in the first place?” Even as she asked aloud, her thoughts took a different direction.
Perhaps the leg really would benefit from a meditation and the glow of the emeralds, too.
The wound upon her own neck was nothing more than a thin purple scar now, and William’s limp had certainly cleared since she had treated him.

Her grandmother looked at Tess in surprise. “Why, what’s not to believe?”

“It just seems so … incredible,” Tess muttered.

“Darlin’, it’s the strengths of beliefs what makes the world ‘round ya’ real, don’cha know? ‘Course ya’ do,” her grandmother clucked, and looked warmly at Mr. Lancaster.

“But, she called me a “Quintspinner”,” Tess replied. “The Crone–she called me a
‘Quintspinner’
and … well …
quint
means five ….” Tess’s voiced trailed away. “And all I have are
three
rings.”

“Why, that just means life is not finished with ya’ yet, me darlin’” her grandmother cut in, nodding her head in her usual sagely way. “Yer only better’n halfway through yer own quest now, isn’t that so? An’ in the meantime, ye’ve found someone very special to spend it with, haven’t ya’?” she added, then quietly murmured, “as have I.” She gripped Mr. Lancaster’s hand in her own, beaming at the craggy carpenter who sat blushing furiously at her side. “There’s always somethin’ what comes from somethin’,” she added softly to herself, nodding in confirmation.

“No, me darlin’,” her grandmother continued happily out loud, “maybe there’ll be more–‘Quintspinner’ sorta’ promises ya’ two more, don’t it?–an’ maybe you’ll just have to practice with what you’ve got ‘til then, learnin’ what they can do fer ya’, an’ all that. Three’s a good number after all, ya’ know.”

Tess stared into her grandmother’s eyes, so like her own–she could see that now–and waited, expecting to be retold the details of the magic of numbers. Instead her grandmother reached out and cradled her face, the sun-wrinkled fingers still tender and soft upon Tess’s skin.

“I was always afraid, ya’ know,” the older woman continued calmly, “that my life was gonna’ be lived too carefully to have anythin’ worth tellin’ about.” She looked into Tess’s eyes, her own shining with love for her granddaughter. Tess smiled back at her. As always, her grandmother had a way of seeing things in a positive light.

Before Tess could say anything in return, her grandmother carried on. “Three rings, maybe four, an’,” she sighed, “maybe, just maybe, all five’ll come to ya’, when the time is right an’ maybe each will have its own adventures attached. Who knows?”

Her grandmother bent forward and kissed Tess softly on the forehead, then giving her an impish grin and gathering her up in a loving bear-hug, she chuckled, “But that’s another story altogether ….”

The End

A sneak preview of
Book Two
in the Quintspinner Series

Chapter One

He stared at the woman, momentarily caught off guard.

She sat upon the ground, her torso resting against the moss covered tree trunk, and his eyes roved over her.

Such perfection. Attractive face with small nose and plump lips parted slightly as though poised to speak. Cinnamon skin dappled from the filtered sunlight in an intriguing pattern of tawny, dark, and gold. Thick tendrils of coal black hair curling softly over her bare shoulders, her breasts defiant and full in their youthfulness.

Perfect.

Except for the musket ball hole blasted squarely into her shattered breastbone.

He blinked in surprise. Catching his breath, the hunter dropped into a crouch as he slid back into the protective camouflage of the jungle’s foliage. He reassessed the scene, his heart pounding, his senses on full alert.

Damn it! He
cursed this part of his job.
Competition. Incompetent fools!
He was the best – everybody knew it – and if he had found this pretty little Maroon first, he’d still have her to collect the bounty on.
An’ make no mistake about it, the bounty on this one woulda’ been worth plenty, that’s fer sure.
His annoyance at such a loss edged him towards a full-fledged temper fit.