Page 29 of Dream Weaver (Spellbound in Sedona #3)

COOPER

Abby’s hands were in a knot as I sped through the night. Clouds swirled over us, and lightning cracked ahead.

“Where’s the ranch?” I asked.

Abby pointed to the lightning. “Right there.”

I sucked in a deep breath. Claire was stuck in that?

According to Abby. Mike, the stepfather, was there too, along with the rest of the family. But that wasn’t much comfort.

“I think you were right about option three — the one about Liselle not working alone.”

Abby nodded. “The question is, who else is it?”

Or what , I wondered. What kind of supernatural could kick up a storm like the one raging ahead?

Thunder cracked and lightning sizzled, illuminating the same spot again and again.

Abby tried her phone, then cursed and went back to fidgeting.

I rolled down the window, sniffing the wind. Then I rolled it up again, wishing for my bear pelt instead of bare human skin. I’d been packed to leave town, so I’d pulled on a spare pair of jeans before leaving the metal shop, but I hadn’t had time to button the shirt I’d grabbed.

“There. Turn right.” Abby pointed once we were a few miles down the road.

My pickup creaked over the dirt road, but I still drove at breakneck speed. The sooner we got to Claire, the better.

“That brazier…” Abby started haltingly. “I only made it because Liselle threatened to burn the whole town down.”

I grimaced, thinking of Peter and the Clark Canyon fire.

Maybe the guy got what he deserved, Lisa — Liselle? — had had the nerve to say.

I grimaced. If that witch weren’t already dead, I would have turned around to kill her.

“I did have a backup plan,” Abby went on nervously.

I looked at her. Did she think she was to blame?

“You did the right thing,” I said. “And it worked, right? I mean, having it backfire on her the second time.”

Backfire — literally, my bear grumbled bitterly.

Abby nodded but remained hunched. I yearned to reassure her, but with the vehicle jerking around in fierce gusts of wind, I had to focus on steering.

And, damn. If the storm was this severe here, how bad was it at the ranch?

The wind howled, flattening trees and kicking up dust — so much, I could barely see a few car lengths ahead. But that didn’t account for the total absence of a road in the spot Abby indicated for me to turn into.

“Here?” I checked, seeing only bushes and dirt.

“Trust me. Turn here.”

I did, slowing to a crawl. To my surprise, the tires rolled smoothly — or as smoothly as they would on dirt — and a road gradually appeared out of the haze.

“The entrance is spelled,” Abby explained, fidgeting even more.

My skin crawled a little. Bears and magic…not a natural mix.

But then I thought of magic protecting Claire, and that sat much more comfortably with me.

“If it’s spelled, how did someone sneak in?” I asked.

“I don’t know. It’s only happened once before.” She trailed off, then froze.

“Who? When?” I demanded.

“Harlon Greene. Almost a year ago.”

She’d mentioned the name before. A warlock, from what I remembered.

“Just one more mile…” Abby murmured nervously.

It felt more like a hundred as the storm raged all around us. The road rose in an incline, with visibility so poor, I couldn’t tell what came next. Another turn, or the edge of a cliff?

Thunder boomed, and lightning illuminated thick, swirling clouds. The hood of my truck pointed up, then down as we crested a hill.

Boom! Lightning scorched the ground directly in front of us.

I hit the brakes. The sky blazed with enough lightning to electrify the entire state. And not just sky-to-ground lightning. Bolts speared forward and backward too, zipping parallel to the ground.

The hair on the back of my neck stood. This wasn’t a lightning storm. It was a lightning fight .

Abby braced herself against the dashboard, whispering desperately. “Claire…”

I moved my foot back to the gas. If Claire was in that storm, so were we.

Over the next few seconds, the storm roared to a crescendo, like the grand finale at Fourth of July fireworks. After one last ear-cracking Boom! it petered out gradually.

I drove onward, glancing around warily. Now what?

Thunder rumbled in the distance, no longer over our heads. One last, feeble bolt of lightning blinked behind the clouds. The wind died, and everything went still.

I peered forward, letting the headlights slice through the darkness.

The dust settled, and the clouds slowly parted, allowing a slice of moonlight through. Enough to reveal several small buildings, a corral, and a barn. Abby’s ranch.

“Wait! Stop,” Abby said.

I hit the brakes as a man emerged from the dust by the main house. He held his hands like a gunslinger ready to crack off another few rounds.

“Mike,” Abby breathed.

The stepfather. That was a good sign, right?

Then I spotted another man, closer to us with his back turned. That had to be the other gunslinger — er, lightning slinger? — that Mike had faced off with.

“Harlon,” Abby hissed.

Whoever he was, he looked hunched and defeated.

Other figures appeared from in and around the house, and a burst of fire revealed a dragon over to the right.

I did a double take.

“That’s Nash, over by Erin’s vortex,” Abby explained. “She must be over there, helping fight Harlon.”

Another vortex? Right here on the ranch? I gritted my teeth.

And, yikes. A dragon shifter. At least he was an ally, judging by Abby’s tone.

Ingo appeared next, running past Mike to tackle Harlon. Harlon raised his hands, but Ingo threw him to the ground and whipped out a pair of handcuffs that shimmered with magic.

I exhaled a little. Whatever had just happened, it was under control now.

Two more people emerged from the house — Pippa, and a shorter figure in pink pajamas that matched the stuffed rabbit she held by one ear.

“Claire!” Abby cried.

I floored it, following the shortest route to the house. Mike looked up in alarm, then waved to let us pass.

Abby hit the ground running before my car came to a full stop. When she reached Claire, she fell to her knees and hugged her daughter tightly.

I sagged a little. Safe. They were both safe.

I pushed open the car door, ready to run over and join them. Then I stopped. Abby and I had already said our goodbyes. Well, sort of. And anyway, the message had been pretty clear. She didn’t have space for me in her life.

She can make space, my bear insisted. Just ask her. Beg if you need to.

But bears and witches didn’t mix. They couldn’t.

Says who? my bear rumbled. A bunch of old-timers who’ve never seen, let alone gotten to know, a witch?

My mind ran through all Abby’s interactions with Claire. With me, too. The bossy, bitter part was just her outer layer. Beneath that, she was all heart.

A lot like a bear, my inner grizzly said.

I pictured Abby laughing. Touching. Opening up to me, then shutting down completely.

I gulped. Life with Abby truly was a roller coaster.

A pretty thrilling one, my bear whispered.

“Cooper?” Pippa broke away from Abby and Claire to motion me over.

But Ingo yelled at the same time, and I turned that way, because subduing Harlon was the priority. As I ran toward them, a woman appeared, sprinting for the main house. The sister, Erin, I gathered, hurrying to check on everyone there.

Further proof that Abby didn’t need me. I continued toward Ingo.

Then a horse whinnied, and things went downhill fast.

“Domino!” Claire called from the porch. I glanced back, seeing her run to check on the horse.

Alarms sounded in the back of my mind. Claire…the horse…the corral, with its aluminum fence…

Something about it felt off, but I couldn’t understand why.

Then it hit me, and I whirled to cut her off.

“Claire! Stop!” I yelled.

She kept running, too focused to register my words.

“Stop! Stop!” I yelled.

I could see it now — Claire jumping to the corral fence, then climbing to perch on the top rail. But she wouldn’t make it that far. Not if my hunch was right.

By then, she was only a few steps away from the fence. I was a little farther but speeding in quickly from her left.

“Claire!” I yelled again. “Stop!”

“Domino!” she called, and the horse nickered back.

She was three steps from the fence…two…one…

I dove, hating myself for what I was about to do. But I had no choice.

“Hey!” Abby protested from behind me.

Everything went by in a blur. Tackling Claire out of the air… Twisting as we fell so I wouldn’t crush her… Crashing to one shoulder, then scraping along the gravel.

I winced, more from Claire’s cry than the cuts in my skin.

Claire whimpered, confused, but I kept her cradled against my chest as I lay in the dirt. My heart pounded so hard, I thought it would burst. But I wasn’t letting her go anytime soon.

Everyone ran up, kicking dust into my eyes. I coughed as Claire whimpered.

“Mommy…”

“Are you nuts?” someone barked.

I gestured with one hand. “Stay away from the fence! Nobody touch it!”

Pippa helped us up, and Mike snatched Claire away from me.

“What the hell?” he growled, only refraining from a roar because of Claire in his arms.

Abby stood at his side, staring at me, then the fence.

“Cooper?” Claire’s eyes were fearful and confused, and that hurt.

“The fence—” Abby pulled Mike back.

“What about the goddamn fence?” he snarled at me.

“It’s electrified,” Abby finished, and everyone jumped back.

For a few seconds, we all stared in stunned silence. Then Pippa picked up a rake and tossed it against the fence.

Sparks flew, and the air crackled.

“Whoa.” Pippa leaped away, along with everyone else.

“All that lightning…the metal fence,” I panted.

Mike studied the fence, then shook his head. “No ordinary lightning.” He thrust Claire into Abby’s arms and stormed past me. “Fucking Harlon…”

Over by the bluff, Harlon struggled, but Ingo held him tightly. The dragon circled overhead, spitting fire.

I picked Hopper out of the dirt, dusted him off, and handed him to Claire.

“I’m real sorry. I couldn’t think of another way of stopping you. Are you hurt?”

She sniffled, craning her neck at a scratch on her elbow. “Yes.”

But, whew. That was a small price to pay, like the gravel embedded in my shoulder.

“You would have been hurt even worse if you’d touched the fence,” Abby chided her gently, then squeezed her and Hopper close. “That’s why Cooper had to stop you. But you’re okay. You’re okay…”

Her sisters pressed in, cooing in comforting tones, and I backed away. Blood seeped through my shirt sleeve, but the ache in my heart was worse. I was back in the same inevitable place. Abby had everything she needed — her daughter, her family, and the ranch.

I shuffled back toward my car, not part of that equation. I was done here. Done in Sedona, too.

I looked at the moon, high and bright in the rapidly clearing sky. I ran my eyes over the dramatic rock formations, silent sentinels in the night. Then I steeled myself and looked at Abby, memorizing every detail, from her auburn hair to her green eyes to her lithe figure.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, silently wishing her well. Then I turned to my truck.

A steely hand clamped over mine, and a man growled right in my ear.

“Not so fast, kid.”

I sighed. This again?

“I said, I’m sorry,” I told Mike. “I couldn’t think of a better way to stop Claire without—”

He cut me off. “You did good.” His throat bobbed. “You did good.”

A rare compliment, but I was too dazed to care.

“If you’ll excuse me…” I pushed toward my car.

His thick arm chopped into the space before me, blocking the way.

“I said, not so fast.”

I kicked the ground. Now what?

“You wait right here, kid.” He pointed at me, giving me the evil eye. “Don’t move a hair, you got that?”

What he was up to, I had no idea. But whatever. When he was finished haranguing me — as I was sure he planned to — I would leave. I would head straight to Wyoming and never look back.

My bear mourned.

“I said, you got that?” Mike growled.

Never in my life had I been more tempted to disrespect one of my elders. But bears had those rules ingrained in them young, and I just didn’t have it in me.

I sighed and looked at my shoes. “Yes, sir.”

Mike stomped over to the others, still huddled by the corral.

One last tumbleweed rolled by. In the darkness, a bird chirped cautiously from a thicket, the first to peek out after the storm. The scent of pine and juniper filled my nose, and I savored that special Sedona scent. Pine, juniper, and something else. Huckleberry. Dandelions…

Two sets of steps sounded behind me, one heavy, one light.

“All right, now. You two talk,” Mike ordered gruffly.

I looked up, finding Abby there. Behind her, Erin and Pippa walked Claire to the main house.

“Go on, now.” Mike nudged Abby gently. “Talk.” Then he pinned me with a dark look. “And you listen.”

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled.

Mike nudged Abby, then walked away.

Abby looked at her feet for a while, then whispered, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Nothing to thank me for. I’m just glad Claire is okay.”

“She is. But I do have to thank you. And I need to apologize too.”

“No need. Really.”

She snorted. “Big need. I’m sorry. For everything.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“No, it isn’t, because I owe you. Big-time.”

I didn’t want her to owe me. I wanted her to trust me — and her heart.

“And, actually, you owe me too,” Abby went on.

Huh?

“I owe you?” I thrust my hands deep into my pockets and formed tight fists.

She nodded. “Yep. All that blacksmithing I taught you…”

Her voice wavered, and my initial burst of anger faded away. This wasn’t Abby being demanding. This was Abby trying to lay something bare. Something hidden for so long under so many layers of protection, it would take a while to wrestle out into the open.

But, hell. Patience was a virtue, and I was all ears. Big, African-elephant-sized ears.

“So, I figure it’s time you taught me a few things in return,” she went on, barely above a whisper.

My heart pounded in hope. “Like what?”

“Like, how to be nice. How to be patient. How to be as good a person as you.”

I shook my head. “I’m not—”

She cut me off in a whisper. “How to see the best in people. And how to trust.” Her eyes were wide and pleading, her lips tight. “I really want to. But I don’t know how.”

I clasped her hand in both of mine. “It’s not as hard as you think.”

“Maybe not, but it scares me. Really scares me.” Abby’s eyes glistened, and I ached at seeing her so lost. But, hell. I was here to find her, right?

“I would never hurt you,” I vowed quietly.

“I know. But what if I hurt you ?”

I thought it over, because she had. But we all made mistakes, didn’t we? And anyway, what kind of bear would I be if I didn’t have a thick hide?

I shrugged. “I’m a bear. We bounce back.”

Her cheeks flushed. “You shouldn’t have to.” Then she sniffled. “I bet Greta wouldn’t hurt you.”

I waved, dismissing that. “She wouldn’t, but I don’t love her. I love you.”

Abby’s eyes jerked up to mine, and I held perfectly still. There I was again, with that butterfly on my nose. A moment of truth.

“I love you too.” Her eyes shone. “Desperately. But I’m afraid I’m not good at it. At loving, I mean.”

I gestured toward the house. “One look at you with Claire proves you wrong. You’re very good at it.”

“You’re not Claire.”

I grinned. No, I wasn’t. And I was hoping for a different kind of love. But, still. It was like my mother liked to say. Love was a party, and there was always room for one more.

“No, I’m not Claire. But maybe I like to live dangerously. I’m a firefighter, right?”

She didn’t look convinced. “Greg always says, firefighters don’t live dangerously. They live with calculated risks, and they calculate those really, really well.”

“Well, then. Consider the risks calculated.”

She stood there, gazing up into my eyes. Her lips wobbled with words that never came, so I covered them gently and said, “I’ll make you a deal.”

She tilted her head.

“I’ll teach you if you keep teaching me,” I proposed.

The moon glinted off her hair when she shook her head. “What could I possibly teach you?”

“Teach me about you. About blacksmithing. Maybe even ranching. And you let yourself trust.”

“Kind of a lopsided deal, don’t you think?”

I shook my head. “I think we both stand to win big.”

Her eyes sparkled, so I went on.

“Of course, I’m not a very good blacksmith, and with fire season coming up… Well, I’ll be gone a lot.”

She gulped, then wrapped her arms around me like I was about to ship out.

“That will be hard.” Her voice was muffled. “But as long as you come back…”

I held her tightly. “I will always come back.” Then I glanced over her shoulder and chuckled. “Mike might kill me if I don’t.”

Abby’s laugh was music to my ears. “He means well.” Then she touched my shoulder and froze. “Oh God. You’re bleeding…”

I shrugged. “Nothing serious.”

“But your shirt—” Her eyes welled as she fingered the fabric. “Peter’s shirt…”

I looked at the torn sleeve, then took her hand. “I think he would find it a worthwhile sacrifice.”

“But… But…”

I shook my head. “No buts. I’m sure he would approve.”

She looked up at me, still unsure. “You think so?”

I leaned in to kiss her. A kiss of comfort, hope, and relief. One I broke only long enough to whisper, “He would definitely approve.”