Heartwishes Read online

  “I don’t know,” Gemma said, taken aback by the woman’s vehemence. She started to say that the story of the Stone’s magical powers was just a family myth, but she didn’t. It looked as though Mrs. Frazier had a wish she wanted to come true. What the woman could possibly want that she didn’t already have was beyond Gemma’s imagination.

  “Keep working, dear,” Mrs. Frazier said as she handed Gemma a credit card. “It’s the same one Rachel uses to buy for the household. Get whatever you need for the job.”

  “What’s happened with the fire?” she asked before the woman ran off.

  “Not too bad,” Mrs. Frazier said. “A lot of damage, but no one’s been hurt. Better yet, it’s under control.”

  “Colin said he was helping with the cleanup.”

  Mrs. Frazier gave a little smile. “My son called you?”

  “Just a couple of times,” Gemma said and wished she’d not told that. The Frazier family loved Jean.

  “That’s lovely,” Mrs. Frazier said as she climbed into her little truck. She was still smiling as she drove away.

  Gemma didn’t waste any time trying to understand the woman’s enigmatic little smile but went back to work.

  Mr. Frazier stopped by to give her a paycheck. When Gemma offered to tell him about her research, he looked as though he might fall asleep. She said, “Morgan,” and he instantly came alive.

  “Founded in 1909 by Henry Frederick Stanley Morgan in Malvern Link, Worcestershire. I bought two of them from his son Peter before he died a few years ago. I have an Aero SuperSport on order.”

  Gemma’s eyes widened. “Don’t those cost—”

  “Ssssh!” he said. “You tell Alea and I’ll make you drive it.”

  “Heard about how much I loved driving Colin’s Jeep, did you?”

  “What I heard is that you rode with him and didn’t scream.” He looked at her as though to say she’d done a good job. As he climbed into his little truck—black with red stripes on the hood—he said, “Oh yeah, Lanny saw the tape of you climbing on Colin and he says he’s in love with you.”

  “Isla will be heartbroken,” Gemma replied, and Mr. Frazier laughed as he sped away.

  Shamus visited twice. He was a quiet young man, saying hardly anything, but she had an idea that he saw a lot. On his first visit she started to tell him of the little she’d learned of his ancestors, but like his father, he didn’t seem interested.

  If there was one thing she knew about big, athletic boys it was that they were always hungry. She told him to sit on the couch while she made him a sandwich. He had his ever-present drawing case with him and he began to sketch while she loaded bread high with meat and whatever she could find in the refrigerator. She didn’t have any potato chips so she sliced carrots. She set the plate and a quart of iced tea on the coffee table, then went back to work.

  An hour later she looked up from where she was sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and papers, and Shamus had moved to the chair and was sketching. She went back to work, paying no attention to him. An hour or so later, he left, saying nothing, just raising his hand in farewell.

  The next day he stopped by again. She opened the door to his knock but she’d been reading some letters and didn’t want to stop. Shamus seemed to understand, as he motioned for her to sit back down. He went to the kitchen and minutes later he put a tray with a sandwich and tea down beside her. She smiled up at him as he sat down in the chair with his sandwich. The next time she looked up, he was drawing. She didn’t know when he left. That evening there were two huge floor cushions outside her door and she felt sure Shamus had been the person who’d obtained them. Gratefully, she put one on the library floor and another one against the shelves.

  As for the rest of the family, Lanny and Pere, she didn’t see them. Rachel came by to pick up the bowls and to give her more “leftovers.” Since most of the dishes hadn’t been touched, Gemma knew Rachel had prepared them specially.

  “Heartwishes, huh?” Rachel said without preamble.

  “You’ve heard about it?”

  “It’s all Mrs. F can talk about. She’s worried that it won’t work for her, so she made Mr. F say three times, ‘I wish for grandchildren.’ Any day now I expect Lanny to tell us he’s knocked up some girl.”

  “Hope it’s not Isla,” Gemma said, and they laughed.

  As Rachel climbed into her UTV—this one in green camouflage—Gemma said, “I haven’t heard from Colin in days. Nothing bad happened at the fire, did it?”

  “We’ve not heard anything either,” Rachel said. “But Colin flies a helicopter, so they keep him pretty busy. Are you missing him?”

  “It’s just that—” Breaking off, Gemma shook her head. “I just want to know that he’s okay.”

  “How are you going to choose between Colin and Dr. Tris?”

  “Tris is just a friend, that’s all. I hardly know him. Colin’s a friend too and I don’t know him very well either, but—” When Rachel started grinning, Gemma decided to shut up.

  “Friendship is great, isn’t it?” Rachel said, then sped off toward the house.

  Absolutely no one was helping her keep her distance from Colin!

  The next morning Gemma awoke at 4 A.M. and couldn’t go back to sleep. For the last several years she’d started her day with an energetic workout, and now the lack of activity was making her restless. At five she gave up the struggle and got up, dressed, and went to the kitchen to make herself breakfast. It was still dark outside, so when she heard a tap on the glass door and saw what looked to be a man wearing a mask, she jumped. It took her a few moments to realize it was Colin. She went to the door, turned the latch, and opened it.

  “I’m glad to see you did lock it,” he said as he stepped inside.

  He looked awful! The “mask” he was wearing was soot and smoke, so thick on him that she couldn’t see his skin. “Come in and sit down. You look exhausted.”

  “No. I don’t want to dirty your furniture. I dropped Pere off and I was going home, but I saw your light on and wondered if anything was wrong. What’s that smell?”

  “Oh!” she said as she hurried to the kitchen. “It’s turkey bacon.”

  When she turned back to him, he had a look of hunger in his eyes. “How long has it been since you ate?”

  “I don’t know. Yesterday sometime.” He put his hand on the door. “I need to get home and—”

  “I cut up red peppers and onions, and I have cheese and eggs. I make a great omelet. And I bought some of Ellie’s seven grain bread. It’s a few days old but if I put enough butter on it you won’t be able to tell.”

  She could see that he was giving in. When she motioned him toward the kitchen, he went to a stool by the bar, and sat down. She quickly poured him a glass of orange juice and he drained it in one gulp. Toast lavished with butter kept him busy while she whisked four eggs. She’d already chopped the peppers and onions and sauteed them in oil. She put them with the cheese on the omelet and put the plate in front of him.

  He didn’t say a word until all the food was gone.

  “Better?” she asked when he looked up.

  “Much,” he said, then gave a huge yawn. When he tried to cover it, he smeared the dirt on his face.

  “How long has it been since you slept?”

  “I think it’s three days now.” He started to stand up. “Gemma, you’re a real treasure. Thanks for this. I’ve got to get home so I can get cleaned up. My skin is itching. And I need to sleep.”

  When he took a step and stumbled, she was afraid for him to drive. Gemma put her hand on his back and pushed him toward her bedroom. “Shower’s on the right. Take your time.”

  “Clothes . . .” he said.

  “I have a jersey so big you and Shamus together could wear it, and I have matching sweatpants. Go on! Once you’re clean, I’ll drive you to your place and you can sleep.”

  When he gave her a one-sided grin, his white teeth stood out against the dirt on his face. “Ten minutes,” he sai