The Sapphire Pendant (39 page)

Chapter 24

“What have you done?” Jessie asked, hitting Kenneth on the arm once they were alone outside. The sound of voices floated through the warm evening, as the calm waters of the bay reflected the hotel’s lights and the stars.

“What?”

She fell down on a stone bench. “I can’t believe this.” She curled her hands into fists. “You told her we’re engaged? Do you know what this means? ” She paused as a thought struck her. “Oh, I get it. This is my punishment for using you as a trophy.”

Kenneth rested a foot on the bench. “Yes and no.” He took a sip of her drink.
 

She grabbed it from him, splashing it over his glove. “That’s not alcohol, is it?”

“No, it’s not.” He shook the liquid off his glove. “I told you I don’t drink. It’s punch.”

“It could be spiked.”

Kenneth grinned. “They don’t do that at these kinds of parties.”

She sniffed. “You’d be surprised. At one party I waitressed, the hostess made a special request to make sure the guests were happy. We made them very happy.”

“I see.” He took the drink from her. “Well, I’m waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“Waiting for that temper of yours to lash out at me. Are you going to attack my pride, my ego, or will you make unsavory comments about my parentage?”

She rested her chin in her hands. “No, it serves me right. I was too ambitious. God, Michelle is going to gloat over this one. She thought the bet was a stupid idea.” Jessie rubbed her temples. “This is such a mess.”

“Don’t give yourself a headache.” He massaged the back of her neck. “It’s not really a mess.” He sat down next to her. “We act like we’re engaged for a couple of weeks—”

“Weeks?” she choked.

“Then break up.”

“With you dumping me?”

“No, you dumping me. Don’t worry, my ego can take it.”

She groaned.

“Is it really that bad to pretend that we’re engaged?”

The guy had three college degrees and couldn’t even tell when a woman was in love with him. She began to question his intelligence. “I guess not.”
 

“The truth is I wanted you to win big. Not just the pendant but Deborah’s respect. I knew she wouldn’t believe I asked you to the ball because I wanted to, so I thought an engagement would be more convincing.”

“It would have been, if she wasn’t saving the pendant for a wedding present.”

He looked crushed. “I ruined it for you.”

It was odd, but she didn’t feel disappointed. She didn’t feel angry with Deborah for being a liar or at herself for falling for Deborah’s ploy. She didn’t feel annoyed that there was yet another obstacle to getting the pendant. It was as if the sweet evening had calmed all her haunting thoughts. She was quiet then said, “You didn’t ruin it. It’s just her excuse. She wasn’t going to give it to me anyway.”

Kenneth sighed. “I could ask Mrs. Ashford how much—”

She stood and glanced down at the amethyst on her finger, remembering it was a spiritual stone. A stone that called to the depth of her soul, shedding off the layers of her past. The Jessie of before: anxious, angry, vengeful, scared. A Jessie full of bitterness and pain whispered the true story of the pendant before vanishing into the sky. “Doesn’t matter,” she said.

“What?”

She looked at him. “The pendant’s center is like the very sky above us. I don’t need to hold it in my hands to claim it. It knows to whom it belongs and is already working its magic.” Her voice fell. “It gave me you.” He looked blank and she laughed at herself. “I sound as crazy as my father and I don’t care. It’s a night for believing in magic and stories and dreams and…” She stopped, feeling an overwhelming freedom as if her skin had fallen away leaving her soul to fly. She spun around and looked up at the sky. “Look at the stars, Kenneth. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Kenneth gazed at her instead and fell in love.

* * *

When they arrived home, Syrah opened the door, brimming with excitement. “Is it true?”
 

“What are you doing up?” Kenneth asked.

“I couldn’t sleep. Is it true?”

He began to bend down to pat Dion, who was eager for attention, but a biting pain ripped at his side and he stopped. Jessie watched worried, but said nothing. “Is what true?” he asked.

“That you and Aunt Jessie are going to get married?” Syrah looked at Jessie’s hand and jumped up and down with joy. “It is true! I’m so happy! We’re going to be a family!”

“Wait, wait a minute. How did you find this out?”

“It was simple really. Denise’s cousin was a waiter at the party and someone told him that they heard Tracy talking to Wendy about your ring. So Denise’s cousin told his girlfriend who called Denise’s sister who told her mother who told Denise who told me.”

He blinked. “I see.”

“So when are you getting married? Can I be in it? Can we have lots of lemon sherbet?”

“There’s not going to be a wedding just yet,” he said cautiously. “We have to get things in order. We have a lot of things we need to discuss first.”

“Like what?”

“We’ll tell you tomorrow,” Kenneth promised in an awkward tone. “Now it’s time for bed.”

“Okay.” She raced up the stairs.

Jessie shot him a glance. “Nothing to worry about you said.”
 

“I didn’t expect her to hear about it so soon.”

“What are we going to do about her?”

“She’s grown. She’ll understand when it doesn’t work out.” He shoved a hand in his pocket. “Besides...she’s going to have to see her father at some point.”

“Have you spoken to him recently?”

“No.”
 

She touched his sleeve. “You don’t want to send her back, do you?”

He yawned.

“Why don’t you adopt her?”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He yawned again and headed for the stairs. “Because I can’t. I’ll see you in the morning.”

* * *

Stephanie laid her gold necklace on the dresser and unzipped her dress. She glanced at Brooke who painted her toenails on the brown tufted ottoman in front of the window. Since girlhood Brooke liked to visit her room, even though her own was more elaborate.

Stephanie let her dress fall and stepped over it. “You’ll be sorry you missed the ball.” She grabbed her robe.

“I doubt it,” Brooke said. “Events like that are so boring.”

“Not this time.” She tied her robe and sat on the bed. “Kenneth is engaged.”

Brooke glanced up. “To whom?”

“Jessie Clifton. Can you believe it? It was a complete shock to everyone.”

Brooke’s eyes turned shrewd. “To you especially.”

“I misjudged her. She seems to care for him.”

Brooke wiggled her toenails. “Or his money. One can never know.”

“She doesn’t seem the type,” Stephanie said. “I spoke to her for awhile. She’s very insightful and the dress she wore was amazing.”
 

“You liked her?” Brooke asked in an odd tone.

“Yes.” Stephanie opened a bottle of lotion and lathered her legs. “Oh, by the way, she was wearing a bracelet just like the one I lost. Brooke, you’re about to spill your nail polish.”

She righted the bottle. “Jessie was wearing the bracelet?”

“I doubt it was the exact one. She said Syrah gave it to her.”

“Then it must be the one.” Brooke tightened the top of the bottle. “Syrah must have picked it up when you lost it.”

“Are you accusing her of theft?”

“She’s just a kid who saw a pretty bracelet. I don’t blame her for taking it.”

“But she’s Kenneth’s niece. Prestons always do the right thing. She would have taken it to the Lost and Found.”

Brooke wasn’t listening. If Syrah was anything like her father, she had fast fingers and a ruthless mind to match. “I want you to get it back.”

“How? I can’t just go up to Jessie and say it’s mine and I want it back now.”

“Sure you can. If Jessie is as likable as you claim, it should be no problem. It was lost— not abandoned—so it is ours. Please, Stephanie.” She dimpled prettily. “For me?”
 

* * *

An uneasiness woke Jessie from her peaceful slumber. She sat up in bed, certain the feeling was part of her dream until she felt a desperate need to check on Kenneth. She raced down the hall to his room, imagining him writhing in pain as his pills wore off, desperately looking in his medicine cabinet in search of relief. She flung the door open and stopped. He lay asleep. She walked to his bed.

His blankets lay in a violent disarray at the foot of the bed. She stared at him for a few moments his bandage standing out like a wound of war. Though he didn’t toss and turn his rigid body made clear that his thoughts were anything but peaceful.

She gently shook him. “Kenneth.” When he didn’t move, she kneeled on the bed and whispered in his ear. “It’s just a dream.”

His jaw tightened more.

She shook his harder. “Wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open, bright with pain and worry. He fumbled for her hand and seized it, his voice urgent. “You’re all right?”
 

“Yes.”

He relaxed. “Good.” He closed his eyes again and buried his face in the pillow, sighing like a contented child. She pulled the blankets up and stroked his cheek. He was probably still dreaming about the fight and the pain pills weren’t working. Fortunately, she knew an alternative.

* * *

Trying to force him to stay home the next day; however, made Jessie want to hurt Kenneth rather than heal him. When she finally persuaded him that Radson wouldn’t topple in his absence, she made him tea, sweetening it with a sleeping pill. She then called Teresa.

“I need to borrow one of your potions,” she said.

Teresa’s voice hardened. “Witches make potions. I create medicinal drinks and ointments.”

Jessie rolled her eyes.
Like it matters
. “I need your service.”

“I’ll be right over.”

An hour later, the two sisters entered Kenneth’s room as if they were entering the cave of a sleeping beast. Even in sleep he looked formidable—though he didn’t face them.
 

“He’s exhausted,” Jessie whispered. “Plus, I slipped him a sleeping pill. I don’t think he’ll wake up.”

Teresa still made a wide arch around the bed. Her eyes were fixed on his back, watching for any sudden movements. If he suddenly woke, he may not be pleased to see her. Her hand clutched her large bag.

“Well?” Jessie asked.

“Let’s get to work.” Teresa dug inside her bag and pulled out a rectangular wooden box. “I brought your stones in case you wanted to use them.”

“Thanks,” Jessie said, knowing she had no intention of using them.

Teresa opened the window and closed the curtains. She placed candles of various sizes about the room and lit them.

Jessie watched her replace one candle with another, growing impatient. “Is all this necessary?”
 

“Positioning is important.”

“But—”

“Do you want him to heal or not?”

Jessie had to admit the cool scent of a dew filled morning, which permeated the air with the aroma of candles, made her feel calm. Or perhaps it was her sister who moved around so quietly, yet with such purpose that dispelled her worries. It reminded her of how Teresa had taken care of their parents. Unfortunately, the pneumonia still took them away.

Teresa checked to make sure that everything was set. Then she went to Kenneth and pulled down the bedclothes. She recoiled in horror at the sight of the bruises and scars. His body looked as though some hideous monster were trying to take form.

Jessie grimaced. “They look bad, don’t they?”

Teresa swept one hand over his back without touching him. “They’re horrible. He must have suffered terribly.” She clasped her hands together as if in prayer, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m not sure the cream will be enough to heal these.”

Jessie sighed disappointed. “I know. Those thugs were enormous.”

Teresa stared at her in surprise. “These aren’t from them.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look at his back and his arms.” She pulled the bedclothes down to his feet. “Jesus, even his legs.”

Jessie leaned closer. A series of long, raised scars caught her attention. She pointed to one. “I wonder what could have made that.”

“A belt, a rod, a whip.” She toyed with her bracelets. “And this looks like a burn mark.”

Her gut clenched. She met Teresa’s eyes. “You don’t think...?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice fell. “But he suffered, Jessie. He suffered. I can feel it.”

“He told me he bruised easily.”

“That’s possible.”

But neither believed that. The sinister marks told their own story.

Teresa took his wrist and felt his pulse. “The mask he wears takes up so much energy. It will take a while for him to heal.” She closed her eyes. “He’s sad.” She suddenly dropped his hands and stepped back.

“What? Did you sense something?”

She continued to stare at him.

“You saw something, right?” Jessie watched as Kenneth’s hands balled into fists. “Do something, he’s hurting.”

Teresa opened a bottle of oil and handed it to her. “Rub this on him.”