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‘Well, boys his age aren’t too perceptive about women,’ she returned, as she disengaged a paw from her chain, and offered an ornate button on her blouse in its place. She walked over to where he waited, trying at every step to muster up some conversational
bon mot.
Without effect.

‘Where’s—Eloise?’ she finally managed to get out, cursing herself as soon as she heard the words. Eloise was the last topic she wanted to hear about, not the first. But how does one approach a man at this hour of the morning and say, ‘I wish I could run my hands through your hair. Is it really red? Do you honestly mean to marry that harridan, now that I’ve found you?’ Now that I’ve found you! Get a grip on yourself, Katie Russel, she commanded. I wonder if I could kiss him?

There was no reason to wonder for very long. He closed the distance between them with two leisurely steps, put his hands on her shoulders, around the baby, and kissed her. As before, she could feel the electric shock snap between them as he feathered across her lips. The shock was completely upsetting. She wanted to say and do a million things, but her knees were buckling.

‘The baby!’ was all she managed to gasp before she collapsed on to her bottom on the concrete apron. He was quick enough, where Jon was concerned. He snatched the child up before Katie hit the ground, and then he stood there, the baby tucked under one arm, and grinned at her. She searched around for a stick or stone to throw at him, but nothing was available.

‘Don’t stand there and laugh at me,’ she snarled up at him. ‘It’s all your fault. You could have caught me!’

‘And dropped the child?’ he asked in injured dignity.

He held out his free hand to her, and pulled her back up to her feet. ‘Interesting,’ he said jovially. ‘Does this happen all the time when some man kisses you?’

‘No it doesn’t!’ she raged at him as she tried to brush down her jeans. ‘Only when you—’ She clamped her hand over her traitorous mouth.

‘Only when I do?’ he asked. His voice was solemn, but his eyebrows were raised.

‘Don’t be so conceited,’ she snapped. ‘It’s just that you caught me unawares. I was surprised—I was—’

‘I’m sure you were,’ he laughed, ‘but let’s test the theory.’ He sat the little boy down on a lounger and concentrated all his attention on her.

‘Now then,’ he chuckled, ‘take notice, little girl. I’m going to kiss you.’

‘No! No you’re not,’ she raged at him. ‘I won’t— Eloise will see you, and—don’t!’ His hands were on her shoulders again, drawing her in to the warmth of him, into the golden trap of his arms, and Katie was more afraid than she had ever been in her life. Not of him, but of herself. Tears formed in her green eyes, glistened across her pupils, welled up, and ploughed a wet path down each of her cheeks. ‘No,’ she pleaded softly. ‘Please—no.’

He used a large finger to trap the tears before they dropped off her chin. ‘No,’ he returned quietly, ‘not now.’ Moving gently he lifted her up off her feet and sat her down on a chair. And sat silently, watching her.

She licked her lips, tasting the salt of her own tears at one corner, struggling to find something neutral to say. Something that would get him talking, and get his mind off—whatever. Something that would release her from his hypnotic stare. And he was grinning again.

‘You said you were an inventor?’ she offered. ‘You invent things for a living?’

‘I believe I do,’ he returned. ‘You know about inventing?’

‘Me? I. . . no, I don’t. But it sounds—nice. What do you invent?’

‘All kinds of things,’ he laughed. ‘You’re good for my ego, Katie. I thought everybody in the southern states knew Harry King. You haven’t a clue, have you?’

‘If you mean, do I know about you—I’m sorry, but I don’t.’

‘You mean the First Witch didn’t give you a briefing about me before this plot went into action?’

‘Don’t talk like that,’ she snapped, her face darkening in embarrassment. ‘I told you before. I don’t know you, I don’t know your aunt, and I—why are we having this argument again?’ She gulped a deep breath to regain emotional control, then folded her hands in her lap and said primly, ‘Tell me about something that you invented.’

‘Here. How about this.’ From the pocket of his robe he took out a gleaming little screw, and held it up in front of her as if it represented some great triumph.

‘You invented this—this screw?’ she stammered. ‘Nice. Very nice.’

‘Nice, very nice,’ he mimicked. ‘Lady, first of all it’s not a screw. It’s an aluminum self-tapping, self-locking fastener.’

‘Oh. Of course,’ she muttered. ‘I see that—’

‘You don’t see a thing,’ he laughed. ‘Take it.’ He dropped the little fastener into her hand. She rolled it over carefully, trying to find something sensible to say about it, but nothing came to mind. It looked like a shiny little screw, no matter what he called it. ‘Yes,’ she muttered, ‘very nice. A fastener? I suppose somebody uses these for something?’

‘I believe so,’ he returned. ‘It’s used in the automobile industry these days. In fact, the Big Three auto manufacturers use so many of them that I get a royalty of about five cents on every car they manufacture.’

‘My goodness,’ she sighed, fumbling around in her head for the arithmetic which had always been her downfall at school. ‘And how many cars do they make for your five cents apiece?’

‘Last year was a bad year,’ he laughed. ‘They only made five million. This year I hope to do better.’

‘My, that’s very nice,’ she commented, and then her mind caught up to one or two misplaced decimal points. ‘Oh! That’s two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!’

‘Give or take a few thousand,’ he laughed. ‘You are a quick one.’

‘And you’ll make the same every year?’

‘Well no, hardly. This country has about fifty thousand people who make their living by inventing things. They’re pretty good at arithmetic, too. So about the end of next year there will be somebody who will make a basic improvement on my little baby here, and the scramble will start all over again. It keeps us on our toes, so to speak.’

All the time he had been talking about his little fastener his face had been alight with a glow that made him look—boyish, Kate thought. He’s really interested in this thing! But now, the glow and the grin were gone, the eyes a little more flinty, the tone more sarcastic.

‘And now that you’ve had a night to think about it,’ he asked casually, ‘what’s your new cover story?’

‘Cover story?’

‘Yes. You know. What tale have you and Aunt Grace cooked up about yourself, now that the first one didn’t take?’

‘I’m—not sure I like what you’re saying,’ she responded. Her voice was prim and placid, but there were sparks deep in her eyes, sparks of anger. ‘Your aunt had nothing to do with me. I am a photographer. I don’t mind staying around for a few days to help with the baby, but when my car is fixed I’m going to Ohio for a wedding. Just as soon as my car is fixed!’

‘That’s a tough act,’ he chuckled. ‘You would have done better to stick to something simple like housekeeping. So you’re a photographer, huh? And what do you intend to photograph around here?’

‘Well, I don’t need to photograph anything around here,’ she fumbled. ‘I didn’t mean to wind up in this valley at all. I was just passing through. One of my friends in Charlotte recommended this route, and I just sort of followed along. But if I have to wait for my car to be fixed, I—’

‘You do,’ he said solemnly. ‘It will take some time. So what would you like to photograph?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said musingly. ‘I don’t know the area. But I do love that skyline over there. Is it possible to get up on the top of this mountain behind us, so I could make a panorama of the mountains? That would be nice. And then maybe a historical point or two. Do you know the history of these parts?’

‘Wow,’ he commented, shaking his head. ‘We can get you up to a place where you can make your panorama. About the rest of it, we’ll see. When would you like to go?’

‘Well, it has to be done in the morning, with the sun behind me. How about today. Right now?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ he said casually. He stood up again, and offered his hand. She felt a need to touch him. To walk back to the house with him, hand in hand. He pulled her up to her feet. She was looking over his shoulder directly at the kitchen door, and saw something moving there. Eloise had finally got up. And at the very moment of recognition he swung Katie around, pressing her hard up against his full length, and captured her lips in a tide of passion that made everything which preceded it seem like so much innocent child’s play. The pressure, the mindless pressure, kept on and on, until she was shaking in every limb, and gasping for breath. Then he released her and walked away, chortling, with Jon in his arms.

Katie staggered, reached out a hand for support, and slumped on to the lounge chair again. He was whistling and Jon was gurgling as the two of them went up to the house. The kitchen door opened, and Eloise came out, just as they arrived. Eloise positioned herself directly in front of them as Harry set the baby down on its feet, and the pair embraced before they disappeared through the door.

‘Why you—you conceited, double-dealing skunk,’ Katie muttered as she staggered to her feet and started up the walk. ‘Why you double-dyed pig-stealing—conniving—man! I ought to put a gypsy curse on you—or an Indian curse, there’s the thing! Paleface talks with forked tongue!’ And then, using her best imitation of a Hollywood Indian dance, she shuffled a circular path in the grass and called out, ‘Oh Great Manitou, send the red-headed white man a—’ A what? A broken arm? A slippery tongue? Or—‘a case of boils!’ She was still laughing at herself when she stumbled into the kitchen and fell into a chair, holding her aching sides. And immediately smothered it all in the face of Aunt Grace’s stern mien.

‘So,’ the older woman said seriously, ‘you’ve got the powers! It’s not a nice thing, though, to send a curse on Harry. He really means well, you know.’

‘Sure he does,’ Katie returned sarcastically. ‘But he deserves every bit of it. Every bit!’

‘That’s true,’ Aunt Grace replied, ‘but if we gave men everything they deserve, where would we women be? Maybe you could make it just a tiny set of boils?’

Katie grinned up at her affectionately. ‘Surely you don’t believe in all that, do you?’ she asked. ‘That went out at the turn of the century.’

‘Not in the mountains. There’s more than one who still believes. More than one. I can still remember Granny
Sills,
down Greasy Cove way. She was a witch without a doubt. And a herb woman. Carried all those herbs of
hers
around in a black reticule, and not a person would cross her for fear of the “eye”, you know. Do you know about herbs, Katherine?’

‘Oh yes. My great-grandmother was a gypsy. And my grandmother coached me in the remedies for years. Some of the simple ones did a lot of good, and, lacking anything else, they all had some uses. Or maybe I should say they did no harm. You don’t have a herb garden?’

‘No, I don’t. Nothing.’

‘But you’ve got the beginnings. There are plenty of dandelions out there in the lawn, and there’s a sassafras down by the swimming pool. That’s a pair of good starters.’

‘What’s a good starter?’ Harry had come back into the kitchen, carrying Jon on his shoulders. Eloise crowded close behind him, her sultry curves draped closely in a crimson cat-suit. All at once Katie realised that she was still wearing the dirty, crumpled, smelly set of jeans and shirt in which she had started her journey from Charlotte. A combination which she had worn now for over thirty-six wrinkled hours!

‘Breakfast is a good starter,’ Katie mumbled. ‘I have to go and change.’ She tried to slide around them, to get out the door.

‘But breakfast is ready for the table,’ Aunt Grace wailed.

‘Leave her alone,’ Harry ordered, in a tone that made Katie wish she had the nerve to whack him as she went by. ‘The girl positively reeks. Out you go, little Miss Russel. But hurry. The chariot leaves in fifteen minutes.’

She sidled by him nervously, and stopped long enough to stick out her tongue at his massive back. It was apparent that he had eyes in the back of his head. Before she could escape out into the hall, one of those massive hands swung around and bounced smartly off the curve of her bottom, adding more force than necessary to her flight.

He was waiting for her at the far side of the house when she came out, stuffed by the triple breakfast she had snatched. Eloise’s back could be seen as she wiggled her way down to the pool. ‘Jon is staying with Aunt Grace,’ he reported. ‘My, that’s really a load. Is your lunch in there?’

‘No,’ she snarled at him, ‘it’s my cameras. What did you expect, a Polaroid?’

‘Well, to tell you the truth, that’s just what I did expect,’ he laughed. ‘What do you have in that big case?’

‘It’s a converted war-surplus Hasselblatt,’ she told him, slipping back the canvas cover from the huge barrel of the camera. ‘My father bought it and converted it. The only trouble with it is that it weighs a whole bunch of pounds.’

He was impressed. His eyes said so, and his grin. Finally he was impressed. He relieved her of the burden, stowing the Hasselblatt and her three lightweight SLRs in the back seat. As he helped her up into the high seat of the four-wheel-drive Jeep he said softly, ‘Could it be that I’ve been mistaken about you, little girl?’

‘Don’t call me that,’ she snapped back at him. ‘I’m not some sort of baby!’ She shook her arm free. He stood by the side of the vehicle for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels, his face displaying the picture of his mind at work.

‘Not necessarily,’ he announced to the wide world. Then, without explanation, he walked around to the driver’s seat and started the engine.

The little wooden bridge grumbled under their wheels as the Jeep rolled across. Katie leaned out far enough to see the little stream, some twenty feet down, that had carved the gorge.

‘It’s all limestone rock around here,’ he yelled at her. ‘That creek’s been working at it for hundreds of years. Makes into a fine waterfall a little way down. Some time, if you’re interested, we’ll take a look at it!’