Starcrossed: Perigee - A paranormal romance trilogy (4 page)

"Er, if you don't mind ma'a..I mean Janet, I'll go grab my bag from the truck."

"Of course. Well, I'll go up and start stashing away my sewing things. Lucy, bring the spare bed from the barn then bring Aric to the sewing room." She turned and marched inside the house.

I wondered at the wisdom of letting a complete stranger come and stay inside your house, particularly when you have a pair of small kids in the family. But Aunt Janet ruled the roost here, and if she wanted Aric to stay in the sewing room, that's where he would be staying.

I sighed and made for the barn. Aric trotted up beside me.

"I take it you and your aunt don't get along?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I dunno... just the vibes I was getting."

"Well, you're right. We don't see eye to eye most of the time. I'm only here still because of Uncle Tom..."

I stopped, I didn't want to go into that part of the story.

"The bed's in here." I motioned toward the barn and Aric slid open the heavy door. "Sorry, it's one of those portable beds and not very comfortable."

"It's okay, I'm sure I've slept on worse. I'm just happy to have a job here, and to have a real roof over my head."

His eyes met mine. I frowned - his words pointing to him going through tough times, and yet he didn't look at all like he'd been through any trouble. Expensive car and clothes, he looked healthy, calm, his body was lean but well muscled - he didn't look as though he'd been through rough times at all. My imagination went into overdrive. Maybe he'd recently committed a robbery? Perhaps he was laying low? I took inspiration from horror movies. What if he was a psychotic serial killer who wheedled his way into a family then abducted and murdered the unsuspecting family members? I really hoped Uncle Tom had checked out his references before taking him on. Attempting to study him out of the corner of my eye, I cleared the way to the portable bed and tried to fathom what was going through his mind. He smiled - my heart flip-flopped, and my doubts were pushed aside.

"Come on," he said with a grin. He picked up the portable bed with one hand. "Let's get this to your aunt's sewing room before she thinks I've abducted you."

* * * * *

Chapter Two

It was Friday afternoon and Aric had been working at Shadow Bend Ranch for nearly a week. His arrival at the ranch had been warmly received by Gus, who appreciated the extra help as he showed Aric 'the ropes'. Aric proved to be a natural with the animals, a great horseman and a hard worker. It seemed jobs were done even before my uncle issued the orders to do them. He was very pleased with his new employee.

On Monday afternoon I had stepped off the bus after school to find Aric waiting in his truck by the side of the broken cow mail box to give me a lift up the long drive to the farmhouse. He'd offered to take me to school and pick me up, but I'd declined - Uncle Tom would prefer he spent his time doing farm work rather than chauffeuring me about. He had continued to drop me off at the mail box in the morning, and pick me up in the afternoons each day. After a couple of days, I began to get over the awestruck, gawking stage and found he was compelling company - funny, smart, and - rather more worldly than me. He was also patient - he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, even in the first few days when I was reduced to a blushing, babbling idiot whenever I met his gaze.

I was walking on cloud nine - he seemed 'perfect', but there was still an air of mystery to him - and my red flag radar was working overtime. I wasn't used to things going my way. After the turbulent, unsettled childhood in my pre-Shadow Bend days, I had a tendency to steel myself for the worst rather than hoping for the best. It was a character flaw I knew I had to work on. I couldn't help it though. Experience had shown me positive thinking just led to disappointment. Here was the perfect guy, served up right on my doorstep, and I should have been insanely happy, and yet, there was still a doubt niggling in my mind - something wasn't quite right.

In the evenings we sat on the front porch, looking at the stars and talking into the night until my tired eyes started to close. I looked forward to these evenings so much I couldn't wait for the sun to go down each day. Occasionally Uncle Tom, Michael or Luke would join us, but mostly we were left alone and we talked about all sorts of things - from natural horsemanship, to politics, art, history and music. He seemed to be conversant with any topic we touched on. We always skirted around the subjects of ourselves though - each of us avoided talking about our childhood, our pasts, although we both tried teasing information out of the other.

"So, do you have brothers or sisters?" I asked Aric one night. We were both sitting on the porch swing - we had graduated there from sitting in the cane armchairs at opposite sides of the porch the first night.

"Yes, too many to count."

I laughed quietly, but his expression was serious, and he continued to gaze out at the wide, dark sky.

"Do you see them at all?"

"Sometimes." He wasn't very forthcoming on the topic, and I figured he didn't want to talk about it.

I motioned at the stars. "They're beautiful, aren't they? You can see so many more out here than in the city."

"Yeah," he said, as though he'd never considered it before. "I guess they are nice, in a way.

"In a way?! Come on, you've never sat and marveled at the sky before? I read that there are probably as many stars as there are grains of sand, on all the beaches and deserts on Earth."

His head turned to me in the dark. "There's a whole lot more than that."

"I can't even imagine it."

His hand brushed mine and I shivered despite the quilt around my shoulders.

"The unimaginable. I don't think it's possible to ever grasp what's really out there," he said.

"I guess so. Probably best we can only admire it from afar. I have enough to worry about here on earth."

He shifted in the dark. "What
do
you worry about?"

I waved my hand about. "Oh, the usual. Exams, assignments, mental aunts..."

"Boyfriends?"

I was glad it was too dark for him to see my face properly. "Er, nope."

"So, that guy you were sitting with at the cafe..."

"Steven?" I chortled. "Ha! Um, no, we're just friends."

I was hoping Aric was asking because he was thinking of filling the vacancy.

"How about you?" I asked. "Anyone special?"

"No, not for a long time." I detected a note of sadness in his voice. Perhaps he'd had his heart broken? I waited for him to go on, but he didn't elaborate.

"So," he said, changing the subject. "You've got a couple of months of school left. Are you planning on going to college?"

I shrugged. "To be honest, I've no idea what to do. Everyone at school seems to have their future sorted and I haven't a clue."

"You have plenty of time to think about it. There's no rush."

"Hm. Not according to my aunt. She'd love to pack me off to college. I think she'd sell a kidney to pay for it."

He chuckled. "Well, you should do what you want to do. Life's too short for you to spend it doing something you don't like." He sounded like he was talking from experience.

"Are
you
happy?" I asked.

"Right this moment I am."

His wording was a bit ambiguous. Did he mean he was happy to be sitting here, talking with
me
under the stars? Or was he just happy with where he was in his life? Probably the latter. I was being way too hopeful.

He steered the conversation away from himself again. "So, if you could do anything you wanted, money no object, what would you do?"

"Do you mean, career wise?"

"Well, yeah, career wise I guess. Or if you never had to work for a living."

"Hmm. Probably buy a nice ranch and breed horses. How about you?"

"I'm doing what I want to do." It was a simple statement but I sensed it was loaded with hidden meaning.

"Working
here
?" Long hard days as a farmhand didn't seem the most scintillating career choice to me. He laughed.

"Don't sound so astounded. The work is easy and the perks are good."

"You have perks? Here? At Shadow Bend?" I knew Uncle Tom couldn't afford to pay much. Maybe they'd worked out some kind of arrangement. Long weekends or something. He'd worked every day so far.

"Well, I get to sit here with you every night."

I blushed. He was certainly a charmer. I wished I could believe it, but he was probably just being nice.

"It's nice out here," I agreed, ignoring the reference to me.

He was quiet, and I wondered whether he was waiting for a reaction to his compliment. But what was I supposed to say? 'Thank you, yes, you are very privileged. Enjoy your perk.'? Or... maybe he meant it... Perhaps he really did like talking to me every night. Oh, I just didn't know. I was thoroughly confused.

I yawned and moved my hand across the swing's cushion, hoping to feel the touch of his hand again. I missed in the dark. Frowning, I sat back with a sigh. The yawning, stretching trick always worked in the movies.

"Are you getting sleepy?" he asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Unfortunately, the late nights
were
catching up on me. I nodded in the gloom. He seemed to understand. I didn't know how he managed to work all day, talk half the night away and then be up bright and early to start his chores again the next day. It seemed he didn't need much sleep. I, on the other hand, had fallen asleep in my geometry class, and was having a hard time keeping up the late nights.

"You'd better get to bed."

I nodded again, and stood up reluctantly. It was always difficult to leave the porch and go to bed every night - I felt as if there were things left unsaid, things we should have talked about, and yet we were careful to never touch on them - whatever they were.

I said goodnight and he stood up, placed his hands on my shoulders, and kissed my cheek. My heart fluttered crazily and I leaned my face toward him, drawn to him as though his lips were magnetic. He pulled away, and his hands went to his sides again.

"Goodnight Lucy," he said softly.

I felt as though there was more I should say and do, but my brain went blank. "G'night," I said instead, and cursed myself for my naivety as I trudged up the stairs to my bedroom. I really needed lessons in seduction. Or maybe he just wasn't interested. He was perfect, I realized despondently, and, I feared, totally out of my league.

* * * * *

"Michael, I saw Mrs Brown in town today and she told me you haven't even started on your science project - and it's due on Thursday." Aunt Janet placed a plate of piping hot rolls on the table in front of Aric, smiled sweetly at him, and turned her attention to the gravy I was stirring on the stove.

"Faster Lucy, for goodness sake - it will be nothing but lumps at the rate you're going." Gritting my teeth, I stirred faster. Aunt Janet placed the gravy boat on the counter next to me, and fished the roast out of the oven.

"Be a dear, will you Aric, and close the oven door." Her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings and I rolled my eyes heaven-wards. She was embarrassing.

"Hurry up Lucy! Luke, tell your father dinner's just about ready." I pondered on how I was supposed to make gravy 'hurry up'. I'd already battled the temperamental stove top, and Aunt Janet had complained I would burn the sauce.

Luke heaved open the fridge door, and yelled at the top of his voice. "Da-aaad! Dinner's ready!"

Aunt Janet flicked her dishcloth disapprovingly. "I could have done that myself," she huffed, shaking her head.

Uncle Tom appeared and took his seat at the head of the table. Aunt Janet ushered Aric to a chair, and he sat down dutifully. I poured the gravy into the gravy boat and went to get the roast potatoes. Luke grabbed a large jug of water and slammed the fridge door shut, bumping me as I headed to the table. The entire bowl of potatoes headed for the floor, but before I could even think about saving them, Aric had dived across the room and caught the bowl. One lone potato was the only casualty, and he set the rest in the middle of the table.

"Your hands!" Aunt Janet exclaimed. The bowl was piping hot. I'd had to use an oven mitt to carry it. I inspected Aric's hands. Large red welts were quickly fading until there was nothing unusual to be seen on his palms or his fingers. I looked at him in surprise.

"Did you burn yourself?"

Pulling his hand quickly from mine, he moved to stand behind his seat. "Nah," he said, busying himself with the water jug. "Tough hands." I eyed him dubiously, but he threw me a disarming smile. "Really, I'm cool." He pulled out the seat next to him and gestured to it, indicating I should sit. His manners were lovely and old fashioned. My heart fluttered a little.

Aunt Janet made a fuss of Aric, proffering him every dish on the table as though she were a harem girl serving an Arabian sheik. Eventually, she seemed satisfied her guest was happy, and started filling her own plate.

Uncle Tom pushed the bowl of peas across to Michael, who gave him a scowl in return.

Uncle Tom was unperturbed. The running battle with Michael and his loathing of vegetables was an everyday occurrence.

"So, young man. What gives? It's not like you to leave a project this late." Evidently, Aunt Janet had informed him of her meeting with Michael's teacher. Uncle Tom heaped a pile of honeyed carrots on to his plate and passed the bowl along to Luke. Michael's face reddened; he didn't look up.

"I, um... I've been busy. I kind of forgot about it." That was odd. When the teacher had given the class the assignment he'd come home incredibly excited and had started planning his project straight away.

"I thought I saw you making a volcano out of chicken wire and clay last week?" I asked. Michael scowled at me; his head slunk down until his chin nearly touched his dinner.

"That project sucked," he said. "I'm... not doing that anymore."

Luke shoveled an enormous piece of potato into his mouth and proceeded to chew, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk stashing nuts. "You suck!" he managed to say, and he grinned, pleased with himself, chewed potato oozing out of his mouth.