Page 12 of Dream Weaver (Spellbound in Sedona #3)

ABBY

I squirmed in my seat, wishing I hadn’t been so defensive. But there was a good reason for that. I was guilty as hell, albeit unintentionally.

I hung my head in the blazing spotlight of Ingo’s inquiring eyes. “Nothing I was aware of. I swear!”

“It’s not an accusation, Abby.” His voice was soft, even apologetic. “I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

That made two of us. Or three, given the way Cooper sat on the edge of his seat.

I studied my hands for a long time, half hoping Ingo would abandon the topic. But he was right to ask, and I knew it. Claire was right too, about talking being better than pretending.

I glanced at Cooper. If he could talk through the hard stuff, maybe I could too.

I took a deep breath, then started very, very quietly.

“I have magic. I know I do. But I’ve always done my best to suppress it.”

Cooper nodded along, while Ingo’s look was uncomprehending.

“Why wouldn’t you use it?”

“Because it comes from my father, and I refuse to be anything like him. In any way. No matter what it takes.” My voice cracked a little. Then I jutted my chin. “If you met him, you’d understand.”

To Ingo’s credit, he didn’t ask. He sure looked like he wanted to, though.

And, damn. I found myself burning to explain. To finally get it off my chest. My mother took off when I was a baby, and unlike my sisters, I didn’t have a great dad to fill in the gaps.

Lots of gaps. Chasms, more like.

But expanding on all that would be complaining, and I’d vowed to move on from bitterness. Claire deserved better. So I stuck to the point.

“But sometimes, a little magic slips through. Without my noticing, even. That’s what must have happened when I made that ax for Kevin.” I gulped. “It’s been happening more lately.”

Cooper’s expression was impossible to decipher, and I ached to read his thoughts.

Ingo leaned closer. “What kind of magic?”

I kept my eyes on his. How much did I dare reveal to a man whose job required him to report on supernatural activity? On the other hand, Ingo was a good man who’d chosen to overlook a few things when it came to the interests of our family versus the interests of his job. But how much could he afford to disregard?

“Elemental magic,” I finally whispered. “You know — earth, air, fire, water.”

“All four?” Cooper asked, looking pained.

Oh, I was definitely pushing his limits here.

“Just earth…and a little bit of fire.” I did my best to make it sound insignificant.

“Earth, as in…?” Cooper asked.

“Let me guess,” Ingo interjected. “Metals.”

I nodded, keeping my eyes down.

“A hephto… er, hephaesto—” Ingo struggled with the official term.

“Hephaestid,” I whispered.

The word stemmed from Hephaestus, the Greek god of fire, blacksmithing, and forges. I loved the idea of a god dedicated to blacksmiths, but I’d always denied having any such powers.

Until lately.

Ingo dropped his voice to a whisper. “So, you think some magic slipped into the ax you made?”

“It must have,” I admitted.

Over the years, I’d erected a brick wall against the magic that pulsed inside me. But some snuck through, especially when I was worked up. And I’d definitely been worked up the day I’d made Kevin’s ax.

Lately, though, that magic had been flowing more freely. And, yikes. What did that say about the axes I was making now? All I intended was for them to be effective in firefighting — but what if someone used them for a different purpose?

Happily, Ingo seemed focused on Kevin’s ax…for now.

“So, what exactly is that ax capable of?” he asked.

I bit my lip. “I’m not sure.”

Silence weighed over us, heavy as lead.

Finally, Ingo eased back and flashed a tight smile.

“One of many things I’ve learned from Pippa is when to call it a night.” He grabbed the bill, paid the whole amount despite our protests, then leaned in, serious again. “Thanks for the info. I’ll take it from here.” He gave me a pointed look. “Call it my case now, okay?”

I hated men telling me how to run my life. But Ingo had saved my sister from vampires. He’d helped save our ranch. He would risk his life for my daughter, I knew.

Also, I was a blacksmith. He was an agent in supernatural law enforcement. It was pretty clear whose jurisdiction this fell under.

So, no protest. Just a slightly forced nod.

Ingo stood to go, and we followed. Outside, he thumped Cooper’s shoulder fondly. The force would have sent me reeling, though Cooper barely moved.

“Let’s make next time sooner,” Cooper agreed. “You know, to use the chance while we can.”

Ingo’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re not planning on staying past this fire season?”

My heart jumped into my throat.

Cooper glanced at me, and a tsunami of emotions swirled between us. Then he tore his gaze away, and I looked at my boots.

“I guess we’ll see,” was all he said.

“For the record, my vote is for you to stay.” Ingo chuckled.

My vote too, though, unlike Ingo, I didn’t voice it.

Ingo drove off with a wave, leaving me alone in the dark lot. Well, with Cooper, but dark thoughts dragged me into a lonely cave of doubt.

Why someone had been messing with the vortexes, I didn’t know. But they had used the ax I’d forged, so it was partly my fault. I’d forged magic into that ax. Magic with a dark side, I feared, despite the luck it had brought. Dark magic someone now sought to exploit. But who? How? Why?

The questions assailed me, a hail of piercing arrows from every side…except one. The side where Cooper stood.

When he touched my arm, I blinked. And for a moment, I felt warm. Comforted. In the storm of my inner turmoil, someone had my back.

A very big, very badass someone. Someone who cared.

I gulped at the unfamiliar feeling, then looked up.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he murmured.

Huh. Since when were bears so good at reading minds?

I managed a thin smile. “Hard habit to break.”

The moment I said it, I cringed. God, that made me sound so damn…weak.

A few quiet seconds ticked by, followed by something completely unexpected.

A hug.

A great big, cautious one, because Cooper knew me by now. Moving slowly, gently, he reeled me into the world’s warmest, safest, most impenetrable hug. I slid into it the way I would slide into the creek on a warm summer night.

For the first second, I was tense as a bow. Then I exhaled.

And exhaled and exhaled, letting everything go. Everything but the feel of his soft flannel shirt…his clean, woodsy scent…his steady, beating heart.

My pulse slowed to match his. I nestled closer…and closer. The way I felt when I mentally crawled into fire to hide from reality, I felt now. The difference was that fire crackled dangerously, cutting me off from the world. But this hug — this bear hug, ha-ha — tugged me into a peaceful, friendly place where I wasn’t alone.

Then, zoom! A car rushed by on the adjacent road, blaring its horn at a truck. They were gone within seconds, but we slowly pulled apart.

I took a deep breath, tempted to duck back into Cooper’s arms. Instead, I stepped away, dragging my hands along his arms.

“Um, thanks. I needed that,” I admitted, trying not to meet his eyes.

Failing, and glad for it, because they were two glowing gold coins, an unexpected treasure in this small adventure of a night out.

“Happy to help,” he rumbled quietly.

I stood watching his eyes glow — and wow, sparkle — for the next long, quiet minute, imprinting the wonder of it all into my mind.

This man had been kind, just because. He didn’t exploit my moment of weakness. He’d helped me move past it.

I cleared my throat, erasing the thank-you on the tip of my tongue. I’d already said that, right?

“Time to go, I guess.” He gestured to his car in a way that invited me to come up with a better idea.

I had dozens, but I couldn’t get any of them out. So, we went.

I kicked myself the whole drive back to the fire station, where we slid out of his pickup and stood by my car.

Last chance, a voice screamed in my mind.

I pursed my lips. Cooper stuck his hands in his pockets. Neither of us wanted this night to end, but habit drove us through the motions.

“Thanks. That was really nice.” His voice was low and controlled, but his eyes still glowed.

I nodded. “Yeah, it was.”

I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want this night to end.

“Glad you got back safely,” I said, then tried covering up. “I mean, all of you. I mean…”

His lips curled, and his eyes twinkled. “I’m glad too.”

I clutched my keys, reminding myself of all the bad choices I’d ever made. Telling myself to get in my car and drive away, fast.

My lip wobbled as I looked up — and up.

“I’d better go,” I whispered, though I didn’t budge.

“I guess you should,” he murmured, just as quietly and just as immobile.

I nodded because, there. We were in agreement.

Agreement about something else too, as it turned out. Like a kiss.

Because instead of leaving, I rolled onto my toes and looped my arms around his neck. Cooper dipped at the very same moment, and our lips met.

My soul sighed, and every muscle relaxed — except the ones that made my lips dance over his. Giving. Getting. Exploring. Then a few other muscles kicked in, making my hands caress his broad back.

Our noses bumped, so I angled my head. And, oh. That was even better. Warmer. Rougher, then softer when my lips reached the small square of skin framed by his beard. That left my cheek nuzzling his beard, where the prickly sensation was just right.

I cupped his face, deepening the kiss. An amazing, confusing kiss. No fireworks, no jolt of lust. Just a feeling of rightness. Of connection. Of home.

Cooper murmured something, changing the angle, and whoa. There was the jolt of lust. I slid my free hand down his back and pressed closer. And, yep. There were the fireworks.

The whole deal. Everything I’d ever felt with Jay, but more — way more — without the warning flags.

Hot, pulsing need filled my veins, and Cooper made a little choked sound. I pressed forward, feeling him go hard. Wanting that, exactly that. Needing it…

Then I stiffened, remembering Claire waiting for me at home.

I dipped my chin slightly, breaking the kiss but staying close. I panted into his chest for the next minute or so, and he held me the whole time.

“Claire…” I whispered, wondering if it was an excuse.

Just a little longer, a man like Jay would say. She’ll be fine.

Cooper nodded, proving he was not that man.

“Got to tuck her in, huh?” he said, respecting the sanctity of that. Encouraging it, even.

I eased away, nodding. “And read her a story.”

He grinned. “Then another, then another…”

I laughed. Boy, did he know the deal.

“Always one more for her,” I said.

He smiled, then pulled me in for a quick hug. “Well, read her one for me. Maybe something about a bear?”

I thought over our options. “ Goodnight Moon has a bear.”

“That’ll do.” In the muffled universe of his hug, I felt his chest rise and fall in a sigh. Then he gently released me. “See you tomorrow.”

My heart stuttered at that reminder of the real world, where I would have to stay on guard. A place where I had to be impatient and annoyed. Where I had to make cutting remarks to ensure everyone knew I was not to be messed with. Where I would have to—

I trailed off there. Did I really have to? This parallel world was a much kinder, gentler place. A dangerous place, too, because the pain set off by letting down my guard was much, much worse.

I stepped away quickly and all but jumped into my car.

“Bye,” Cooper whispered, pivoting aside.

I waved, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Then I drove off.

* * *

“Well, that was fun,” Pippa said once I’d arrived back home. Claire was already in her mermaid pajamas and in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. Then Pippa waggled her eyebrows. “And, wow. If Ingo didn’t exist, I would so go for Cooper.”

“Yeah? I guess I didn’t notice.”

She snorted. “Ha. You noticed, and you know it. I saw your whole body notice, in fact. And those goo-goo eyes you made at him—”

“I did not make goo-goo eyes!”

But, damn. My cheeks heated, and my inner vixen was still yowling for him.

“I nearly called you to offer Claire a sleepover at our place. You know, so you and Cooper could—”

I cut Pippa off before she verbalized precisely what I’d fantasized about.

“Not necessary. Not now, not ever,” I growled.

I hated how Pippa’s eyes pitied me.

“All good, all good,” she covered up quickly, aiming for a lighter tone. “Have a good night.” She bid Claire goodnight, then headed for the door, where she paused.

I braced myself for sisterly advice — something along the lines of You only live once or some such nonsense.

But Pippa just pointed to the table. “Oh — Erin picked up the mail. There’s a letter for you.”

With that, she headed out into the night. I listened to her footsteps scuff, then fade as she walked toward the converted barn where she and Ingo lived.

“I’m ready, Mom!” Claire hollered down the stairs.

“I’ll be right there, sweetie,” I called, reaching for the letter. Something official-looking. Something from Claire’s school, maybe? Or a bill?

Law Office of Watson, Hernandez, and Gray, the printed envelope said.

I frowned. Now what? Something about our property value or water rights?

I pulled out the letter and started to read. Dear Ms. Carson…

Seconds later, the breath went out of me, and my knees shook.

Our law office represents Mr. Jay Wilson in matters pertaining to the custody and welfare of your daughter…

All the blood drained out of my cheeks.

Mr. Wilson has decided to pursue legal action seeking joint custody…

Over my dead body! I nearly shouted as I speed-read the next parts.

…petition being prepared…filed with family court…proposed custody schedule…

My hands shook. How could this be happening?

Mr. Wilson wishes to establish a parenting arrangement that ensures he can actively participate in Claire’s life and provide her with love, guidance, and support…

Support, my ass. Jay was broke. And love? Jay only loved himself. As for guidance, I wouldn’t trust him to lead a blind horse away from a ditch. The man had never shown any interest in Claire’s well-being before. Why now?

The paper wrinkled under my grip as I read the closing line.

We appreciate your attention to this matter and hope to work toward a resolution that is in Claire’s best interest.

Claire’s best interest was to have just enough contact with her biological father to understand why she was better off without him. And that, she’d already had.

Under the signature was an addendum.

Enclosure: Notice of Intent to File for Custody.

My pulse raced. Fuck. Was Jay serious?

“Are you coming?” Claire called from the top of the stairs.

I thrust the paper behind my back. She couldn’t see from there, but I was that panicked.

“Yep. Coming.”

I stuffed the letter on a high shelf and went upstairs to read a bedtime story. Goodnight Moon , with special emphasis on the bear. On the outside, I was the calm, loving mother Claire knew, rhyming lines like Room and balloon … Mush and hush … Kittens and mittens …

“Bear and Claire,” she giggled.

I hugged her tightly.

On the inside, I was raging — and thinking a mile a minute. Jay didn’t have the money to hire a lawyer. He didn’t have the interest either.

Had he found out about an inheritance that came with the stipulation that he finally clean up his act?

Fat chance.

Had he found God and decided to repent for his ways?

I really, really doubted it.

There had to be something in all this for Jay — and that something wasn’t the pleasure of Claire’s company. Something tangible, like money. Enough to recoup the cost of a lawyer.

But what? Why?

“Goodnight everyone and everywhere,” Claire helped me finish. Then she hugged Roscoe. “Goodnight, Roscoe. Goodnight, Mommy.”

“Goodnight, baby. Sweet dreams.”

She smiled. “Will you weave me a good one?”

Ah, if only I could.

I stood and kissed her. “I’ll do my best, honey.”