Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set Read online

  She ambled to the opposite wall, ignoring the buzz of conversation from another room where the others had disappeared. In the center of the largest bookcase was a Native American headdress decorated with colorful beads and feathers and shells attached with leather cords. A feeling of pride and majesty settled on her with a formal solemnity.

  There were also several framed pieces of art featuring elaborate, beaded necklaces and collars. The need to create art in even a simpler, more natural past existence revealed a deep-felt human desire to express beauty, one that touched Annie. She fancied she could hear the lighthearted, higher-pitched voices of women talking and laughing together, beautifying the life of their community.

  Being here was like walking through a time portal in a museum. It felt warm and right, like a secret home, a feeling of belonging and acceptance.

  Wishful thinking. She pictured her mother’s home in North Georgia, a shotgun-style house that was always cold in winter and stifling hot in summer. Everything in it was worn and shoddy and contained a past history of carelessness—just like the family who lived in it. Careless and hot and cold with their love.

  Mostly cold.

  Instinctively, Annie wrapped her arms across her chest. She didn’t ever have to go back there again. She was done trying to earn their love. If her mom could shake off Grandma Tia and wash her hands of her own mother and hometown, Annie could do the same. It’s the last time I’ll let history repeat itself, she vowed. Crazy Annie was in the past.

  She strode down the oak floorboard, taking in more of Tombi’s belongings. It was obvious he was a man who took pride in his heritage and loved family and friends. Near the end of the bookcase was a shelf of framed pictures. Square in the middle was a small, faded three-by-five photo of a man and woman holding a pair of toddlers in their arms. She picked it up and examined it closely. Tombi and Tallulah. Tombi regarded the camera with wide, solemn eyes, while Tallulah’s mouth parted in a huge laughing grin, a chubby finger pointed at the photographer.

  Times had sure changed. Annie carefully set it down and retraced her steps to the headdress. She lifted her hand and touched one of the white feathers, startled to hear the slight swish sound of a bird in flight.

  “Don’t touch that.”

  Annie swirled around at the abrupt command, guiltily clutching her hands behind her back. “Sorry.”

  “Do you need a lift home?” Tallulah asked, scowling.

  The message was clear. She wasn’t welcome. “I can walk.” Despite the heat in her cheeks, Annie lifted her chin and made for the front door.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Annie refused to look at Tallulah as she left the cabin and fled down the steps.

  “Hey! Where are you going?”

  Tombi leaned on the door frame, swaying slightly. “I can’t chase after you today. Come back.”

  Of course. How could she have allowed Tallulah to so completely sidetrack her? Tombi needed her. She’d come to do a job, and it was only half-complete. The first whiff of rejection had lanced the sensitive sore in her heart, and she’d run away, mortified.

  Again.

  Annie straightened her shoulders and went to Tombi.

  Tallulah stepped onto the porch beside her brother. “You sure you want her with us?”

  Tombi shot her a warning look, and she backed to the door. “Your call,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Don’t you have some hoodoo juice or herb tea or something for me to drink?”

  His smile was crooked, and the unexpected humor lightened the weight in her chest. She lifted her purse. “In here. The tea won’t taste any better than the last brew you drank, but it will draw out any poison or toxins in your system.”

  Tombi held the door open, and she swept past him, back into the cool tranquility of his cabin.

  Hanan, Tallulah and Chulah exited the kitchen, ready to leave.

  “We’ll check out who sent those texts,” Chulah promised. “Pisa’s a cop and has access to phone records.”

  Hanan fished the four-wheeler keys from his jean pockets. “And I’ll notify everyone to meet here tomorrow. We’ll figure out who sent it.”

  Tallulah stood behind her brother and flashed Annie a slash mark at the throat.

  Annie paled. “It wasn’t me.”

  Tombi faced his twin, hands on his hips. “What did you just do?”

  “Nothing.” Tallulah lifted her chin and smiled sweetly, sweeping past everyone. “Let’s go. We all have lots to do before the gathering.”

  Annie watched them leave with relief. “Point me to the kitchen, and I’ll make that tea.”

  He nodded and made his way out of the room. His gate was stiff and unnaturally slow. Tombi was hurt more than he wanted anyone to know. “Why don’t you lie on the couch, and I’ll bring it to you when I’m finished.”

  “I need to show you where everything is.”

  Stubborn man. Annie followed behind him. The kitchen had gleaming walnut cabinets with a matching island at the center. “Did you make these?”

  He nodded, sinking into a chair at the small table in the corner. “Pots and pans are in the cabinet below the oven.”

  Quickly she set about brewing the tea. Outside the window, the sinking sun was a striking coral. She realized she was ravenous. “Are you hungry? What can I fix for supper?”

  “Now that you mention it, I’m starving. You don’t have to cook anything. I’ve got leftover spaghetti in the freezer.”

  With his directions, Annie got dinner going. She served him the herbal tea and returned to the stove, warming the spaghetti and buttering French bread. She found a pitcher of iced tea in the fridge and set the table.

  The cozy intimacy of the meal restored her good spirits, as well as the sight of Tombi’s skin turning from its former ashy color to its normal cinnamon glow. They settled into a comfortable silence. At last, Tombi set down his fork and pushed back his chair. “I feel like a new man.” He held her eyes. “Thank you.”

  The simple compliment had her own skin glowing. “I just warmed up leftovers.” She stood.

  Tombi clamped his warm hand over her own. “You did more than that.”

  She screwed up her courage. “There’s something else I’d like to do. If you’ll let me.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

  She so didn’t want to do this. If only Grandma Tia were here, everything would be so much easier. Her grandma was the one with the real healing touch, the real magic. Her own attempts were weak, more hesitant. But she was on her own. She had to try. Annie took a deep breath, suppressing her inhibitions. If he refused or mocked her, at least she tried.

  “I want to do a healing ritual.”

  Tombi strummed his fingers on the table. “And what would your ritual entail? Because we have our own purification rituals. Unfortunately, I don’t have days to seek solitude and stay in a steam tent to purify my blood.”

  “I don’t know that mine’s as effective, but it’s simpler and quicker. All that’s involved is a prayer, lighting a candle and—” she stammered a heartbeat “—an anointing with healing oil.”

  “Who gets this anointing? Me or the candle?” He was as still and tense as a crouching jaguar, eyes intent and assessing.

  “You.” Annie cursed the burn in her cheeks. This was a sacred ritual, purely performed for medicinal and spiritual purposes.

  Tombi slowly rose and came to her side, guiding her up by the elbow, until her body faced his, only inches apart. His aura melted into hers with the vibration of a base drum pounding in her ears and in her gut and in the womanly core between her thighs.

  “Let’s do it.”

  The deep, hoarse words implied more than an anointing. Tombi cocked his head toward the door. “This way.”

  Qu