Seaspun Magic (6 page)

Only a couple of hours later, across from Leo at dinner, Arianne breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't given in to her impulse. She would have hated to sit there guiltily before a regard the inveigling shade of green ocean mist. She could get lost in that mist—and she blinked, reminding herself not to sit and stare.

He had just asked about her day, and she had told him a little about the shop and her customers.

"It's not a large store, but you'd be amazed at how much can fit into such a small space. The shelves reach from floor to ceiling and every square inch is used. Orly stocks halavah from Turkey, licorice from Holland and mustard and truffles from France. Whatever you want he's probably got, and his prices are excellent, because most things can be bought in bulk. I love all the dried fruits and nuts and all the chocolate, but my favorite is the spice department—it takes up the whole end wall of the shop. All things considered, it's a good place to work."

"Everybody in town must go there sooner or later, so I suppose you know just about everybody and everything that's going on. Anything unusual happening?"

"Just the usual round of births, marriages and divorces. And, of course, who bought a new car and who was drunk and fell off his yacht last Sunday. I should syndicate a column for the local paper!"

"And put the town gossip out of business?"

"There are two of them, actually—two old ladies who live together, and you never see one without the other. 'Doom and Gloom,' Orly calls them." Arianne smiled widely in sudden amusement. "And those nicknames are a perfect fit!"

"I think I might have seen them. Do they look pretty much the same? One has white hair and the other's is dyed that white-blue shade only little old ladies wear."

"That's them! Doom is the one in blue. And they might look like your average sweet little old ladies, but they're really not very nice-1 have to listen to them in the shop all the time, and they're downright vicious sometimes."

"They certainly stared at me."

"Oh, did they? I'm surprised I haven't heard about you yet, from their viewpoint. That should be interesting!" She grinned across the table at Leo. Their eyes met and right away both of them knew what Doom and Gloom would surmise about their utterly formal relationship. For the barest second his glance flicked down to her wine-wet lips. Arianne's dark eyes slid away from his as he looked upward, and even though she was certain she wasn't blushing on the outside, on the inside she felt the flush of self-conscious, sensual heat.

Nibbling on a crusty roll she paused and very causally asked how his day had been. And the next minute she was kicking herself for not asking sooner. He didn't seem to mind telling her that he owned a travel bureau and was mapping the immediate area—restaurants, hotels, et cetera—for his business. Plus, he was writing a travelogue on Washington State and had spent the morning at city hall and the library checking historical dates for the book. He was also keeping his eyes open for a likely location for a big new convention center.

"I don't want anyone knowing exactly why I'm here. Service isn't the same when your waiter knows you're writing an article about him. And I don't want to start any rumors about the convention center. Chances of it actually happening are remote. At this point the zoning could finish the project. And if the rumor got around that I'm interesting in buying the land needed, the price of real estate would skyrocket out of reach."

It made such perfect sense she wondered why she hadn't thought of it; she'd dreamed up everything else. Remembering some of her more wild conjectures, she laughed.

"Do you know this is the first time I've heard you laugh," Leo remarked. "You really should more often..." For a moment he considered her closely, her black eyes, the curve of her white throat, the red fullness of her mouth. "But I can't see what's so funny about the price of land going beyond my reach!1'

"I had imagined you a bank robber on the lam... or a Casanova on a tryst. Or an FBI agent, prowling the coast for enemy submarines." she said, chuckling richly. "You just didn't look sick enough, not even for amnesia!"

"I'm supposed to be sick?"

"Jill said something about an invalid, so I expected. .." She shrugged.

Slowly a grin formed on his mouth and a very predatory row of white teeth captured her glance. He couldn't have looked healthier, more virile—more dangerous. Her heart seemed to be thudding unreasonably in her breast as her cautious gaze rose to meet the wicked dance of his.

Tilting his blond head to one side he surveyed her in minute detail. "I take it you're not disappointed?" he asked, the directness of his words masked by a deceptively polite tone of voice.

She gasped, shocked at his unfamiliar boldness. She felt his challenge viscerally...but chose to ignore it. "I'll be careful not to breathe a word of your reasons for being in town. Shall I say you've been having headaches, if anyone asks? People are so curious."

"So they have been asking about me?"

"In a roundabout fashion. After all, by now everybody knows I'm looking after Jill's booking. I guess they've seen you around."

"Is my being here unpleasant for you?" he demanded abruptly, beginning to frown.

"No." She smiled very faintly. "Doom and Gloom haven't started yet."

"Is that why you didn't want to have me here?"

Arianne's eyebrows rose slightly, although she could hardly refute his words. She hadn't been very welcoming. "Oh, gossips don't bother me too much," she said offhandedly, instead of answering his question directly.

"If anyone asks, tell them I'm a bibliophile—with a headache."

As usual he didn't linger over dinner. He took the blackberry path again, down toward the fort that was all in darkness. Arianne supposed there was some perfectly logical explanation for his strolling on the beach at night, just as there had been for the rest.

Waiting for his return, she found it very hard to sit down and knit. Restlessly she paced, unable to find solace in a book, either. Two hours later she heard his light tread on the steps outside, and she flew over the chair by the fire. Dropping into it, she took up her knitting as the front door opened. The beeswax candle beside her was flickering erratically but didn't go out.

***

Over the next few days she found herself sneaking glances at him when he wasn't looking and following him about with her eyes. He'd better not stay any longer than one more week! She'd become far too accustomed to the companionable small talk over the crackle of the fire late at night.

Of course it was Rae she was really worried about, she told herself. Children formed strong attachments very quickly, and the boy seemed to like their guest rather more than he should under the circumstances. After the week's end they might never see Leo Donev again!

Having to make breakfast, lunch and supper took up a lot of her time, and the rest of the week slid by far too quickly. Merely dressing these days took more time...

Arianne greeted the next Saturday morning with a peculiar dread. She didn't want to go downstairs, make breakfast and then find out he was going away right after. That pay envelope had come to mean a lot more than the money it contained.

But after Leo had finished his blueberry waffles he invaded the kitchen, this time with Rae riding piggy-back on his shoulders. Hanging on to her son's sneakers with one hand, he handed her the customary payment. Arianne bit her lip to keep from appearing too happy. She didn't want to sing and dance, for example, or look like much other than a staid mother, as she wiped sudsy hands on her jeans before taking the envelope.

"Arianne, I'm leaving town tomorrow morning, and I won't be back until Tuesday morning. So if you want to visit Seattle for Thanksgiving, feel free. I have to go home for a couple of days to get some things, and this seems a good time."

"But you paid for the whole week!" she protested. "You can't do that. Th-this is business."

"I wouldn't mind having some brandy around for the evenings and a bit of a choice in liqueurs.. .or a nice dry sherry. Use the extra for that sort of thing." He and Rae—the boy was still happily perched high off the ground on Leo's shoulders—turned to go.

"Wait...wait a minute. What exactly do you want me to get?"

"Go horsey, go!" Rae was becoming impatient. "Go, go!"

"I'll leave that up to you." Leo said over his shoulder. "You've been batting a thousand so far."

"But Leo—"

"Phone, mummy. Auntie Jill! Mummy,
phone
!"

Arianne stared at Rae aghast, and just as her eyes dropped to gauge Leo's reaction, the telephone in the living room rang. Nobody moved for an instant, and then Rae giggled happily.

"Auntie Jill!" he chirped.

Leo's voice was hushed. "Well, what do you know!"

Arianne brushed past him and ran down the hall to answer the third ring. She would have given anything to have been able to say casually, "Oh, hi Orly!"

"Hello, Jill," she had to say, instead. Leo was watching her from the hall.

Jill asked her to baby-sit that evening since she'd only just decided to take Don up on his invitation to the fall dance. She would bring Erin and Lucy over at seven, she said, and was it all right for the kids to spend the night, the usual arrangement when they baby-sat for each other. Rather than jostling the children out of their sleep only to go several hundred yards, they always delayed returning them until the following morning.

"Of course it's all right. Mm-hm, seven's fine. Okay, bye." Reluctantly Arianne turned to face Leo, and as soon as she did he started slowly toward her.

''
This
is why you didn't want me here?'' It was hardly a question.

Arianne said nothing for a minute, but stuck out her chin and dug her hands into the pockets of her jeans in an unknowingly defensive pose. "So what about it!"

He stopped, eyeing her in some surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it decisively again and stood looking at her with a puzzled frown.

"Well?" she snapped, unsettled by the keenness of his intrigued gaze. "What do you have to say? Isn't it fascinating? Isn't it strange? Oh, my God, she's a psychic? Why isn't she on television?"

"No." A lopsided smile slightly lifted one corner of his mouth. "But I'll keep your secret if you'll keep mine."

Her relief was tremendous. It was so overwhelming she felt as if imaginary stuffing had just been pulled out of her. She was trembling from the fear of discovery, from the horror of having people point their accusing fingers, from the pain of their frightened rejection of her—just when she'd at last become comfortable in the small town. And now, she had to shield not only herself but an innocent baby boy who had no idea how different he really was.

"Hey." Leo stopped in front of her. Rae, still on his shoulders, was finding this adult conversation rather gripping. "Hey, Arianne..." Leo protested, dismayed by her bent head. One of his hands rose and a fingertip gently but very firmly raised her chin.

A tear fell from the dark lashes, and after a second's hesitation he brushed it away.

"It's all right," he said softly.1 'Your secret is safe with me. But.. .it's going to be hard to keep it a secret." He didn't have to add, "because of Rae." She knew very well how difficult it was going to be to explain to the child that most of the time he would have to hide a part of himself that was as natural as breathing.

"Arianne, it's a gift—"

"It's a curse!" she returned bitterly.

In silence he studied her, perhaps waiting for her to say more.

But she took a deep steadying breath, determined not to say another word. "Oh, dammit!" she quavered, instead. "I was so
hoping
he didn't have it!"

"Could his father help? Where's his father?"

Arianne shook her head. "We're divorced."

"For how long?" Leo frowned.

"Well...two years."

"'Two years'! But he's not even two years...old—oh, I see." Lapsing into silence once more, Leo looked even more puzzled. Then he started shaking his head. "If the guy can't stick around while you're having his baby, he sounds like... like..."

"I—it wasn't like that exactly," Arianne stammered, gazing at Leo with dawning astonishment.

"What do you mean? Ah! Rae's not his baby."

"Of course he's his baby!" she asserted indignantly. "Why am I telling you this?" Her astonishment finally made her ask herself this question, but she said it out loud.

"Why not?" he queried reasonably. "Now why wasn't it like that?"

"Reggie didn't know."

It was his turn to be surprised. "Tell me, Arianne," he began again when it seemed he had digested the latest information, "do you generally keep a lot of secrets?"

This made her smile. "No. And I didn't keep the baby a secret. . .I just couldn't tell him at the time and later.. .well, there didn't seem any reason to then." She hoped he grasped the logic of it. "It just happened!"

"You mean.. .he still doesn't know?"

"No," she admitted faintly.

"How can he stay away from you!" he muttered to himself.

"He doesn't know where I am, either," Arianne volunteered.

"Did he know about your.. .your ESP?"

"Mm-hm."

"What does that mean? Did he like it? Did he hate it? "

"A little of both. Mostly he found it embarrassing and just didn't want anyone to know."

"He sounds adorable," Leo remarked dryly.

This made her smile again. "He wasn't really so bad. Very ambitious.. .a political figure.. .and I just didn't add up."

"That was a very calm diagnosis."

"Well, I—well, I..."

"Ye-es?"

"Leo, would you please get out of my way. I have to get ready for work. I'll see you at dinner."

***

Jill brought the kids over a little earlier than seven. She was dressed up for the dance and looked young and pretty and carefree.. .and was terribly depressed.

"I don't think I should be going to the stupid old dance in the first place!" she said grouchily, sitting at the kitchen table with Arianne. "I mean, what's the point? Don's very nice, but... I'm not going to go. I'll phone him and—"