Oklahoma Starshine Read online

  Sophie had called to say she now had blood from every member of the family, and that it had all been delivered to a nearby lab for testing. She went on about how it was more complicated than just typing the blood. The human leukocyte antigen had to match. The reminder of this dormant illness crouching inside his little girl, waiting to strike at any time, made him too sick to eat. He paced, and his stomach was all out of whack.

  His father had come by, told him Emily and Tilda were in Texas. They’d spent the night at the cottage and the morning with his mother, and would be back later in the evening. He wasn’t sure whether to trust that or not. Maybe Emily was in Texas, but that didn’t guarantee she’d be back.

  He was riding herd on a full house at the Long Branch and trying to keep himself distracted from worrying when Emily walked through the batwing doors. He saw her before she saw him. Snug fitting jeans, a pretty green blouse that seemed silky and sexy without being low cut or clingy. She looked around the place and then spotted him behind the bar.

  Jason saw her, too, and put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Go ahead, I’ve got this. And Joe, be nice, all right?

  He came out from behind the bar and met her near the doors. She said nothing, just turned and walked outside, away from the din of crowd, the holiday music, the lights, all of it, assuming he’d follow.

  He did, stepping out into the sudden silence of the night. It was cold. The parking lot was packed with cars gleaming beneath the overhead lights. His breath made clouds and so did hers. She was wearing a jacket. He wasn’t.

  “I hear you’ve had an adventurous day,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes. Sometimes he hated the family grapevine. “Stressful day. Like you might have if I took off with Tilda and didn’t even tell you I was going, much less where or when I’d be back.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then said, “I needed some time. And if you trusted me, you’d have been okay giving me some.”

  “Trust you? You’ve kept her from me her whole life, and now you want me to trust you not to try to take her from me again?”

  “I can’t take her from you, because you don’t have her.”

  “I’m her father.”

  “I’m her mother. And the only family she’s ever known.”

  “And whose fault is that?” He pushed a hand through his hair, looked around and spotted the van. “Where is she now?”

  “Sleeping. Ida Mae’s keeping an eye on her until I get back.”

  “So you’ll leave her with Ida Mae, but not with me?”

  She closed her eyes. “She’s sleeping. I’m going right back.”

  “I have rights, Emily.” He met her eyes, saw the fear that came into them, shook his head at how deeply it hit him and how easily he read it.

  “I thought we agreed to put off fighting over her until she’s well.”

  “Yeah, well that’s not gonna work if you can’t respect my rights to my child.”

  She set her jaw. “She’s been mine and mine alone for years, Joe. I’m not used to having to get anyone’s permission to take my daughter on an overnight road trip.”

  “You’d better get used to it, because if this happens again—”

  “What? You gonna tape your court order back together and take me to face some local judge who’s probably a relative of yours like everyone else in this town?” Angry tears welled up in her eyes.

  He took a deep breath. “No.” Heaving a heavy sigh, he looked at the ground, at the toes of his boots. “I’m pissed, okay? You scared the hell out of me and I’m pissed.”

  “I will never ask your permission to do what I want with my child.”

  He pressed his lips tight. “For now,” he said, “I will settle for notification. Is that too much to ask? That you just let me know when you plan to leave town, where you’re going, when you’re coming back?”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  He lowered his head and paced away. She was being unreasonable. He supposed he had been, too. She’d made him angry. He’d made her angry right back. It wasn’t going to help Tilda. “Do you know how much it hurts me that you’re here, and she’s back at the house with Ida Mae, a woman you’ve known less than a week? But you won’t trust her with me? Do you know how that feels?”

  He came back to her, looked her in the eyes. “You loved me once, Emily.”

  “So what?”

  He narrowed his eyes. She was flushing, her cheeks reddening. Might be anger, might be memory. “You admitted you did me wrong by keeping her from me all these years. But you keep right on compounding the wrong. Repeating it. Acting like I’ve got no say in anything. She’s my daughter, Em. Try to put yourself in my shoes. What if I took her and kept her from you for the next three years? Huh? How would that feel?”

  “It’s not the same. You never knew she existed. You weren’t aching for her all that time, like I’d be.”

  “No. I’m just aching now for the time that you stole from me. Time I’ll never get back. Honestly, I’m not sure I can ever forgive you for that.”

  That brought her to silence. He stared into her eyes a long moment, saw that maybe he was getting through to her, so he pressed his luck. “You’re not the only one whose heart got broken back then, Emily. I was in love with you, and you just up and vanished. Sent me a postcard. A fucking postcard. I didn’t get over it for months.” He lowered his head, and his voice hoarse, he added, “That’s a lie. The truth is, I never got over it.”

  And then he just turned and went back into the saloon.

  #

  Joey was right, dammit. Emily knew he was right, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Why hadn’t she just admitted her mistake in not telling him her plans and apologized?

  Because she resented having to share Matilda with anyone. Anyone. And now she was being forced to share her with a whole pile of people all at once. Strangers. She didn’t know them and she didn’t trust them and she didn’t particularly want to.

  She sat on the front porch swing. Ida Mae had long since gone to bed. Tilda was still sleeping soundly. Emily had the baby monitor receiver beside her on the swing, and was rocking slowly back and forth.

  It was almost midnight.

  Someone came walking up the street. His long strides and easy gait were familiar. Even in silhouette, she recognized Joey. Hands shoved into his pockets, head down, walking along.

  She watched him coming, stayed where she was until he got right up to the Peabody’s Boarding House sign. The porch was in shadow, and she’d stilled the swing. He paused there, looking up at her window. A big fat tear rolled down his cheek, and her heart clenched up in her chest. Then sighing, he lowered his head, turned and started walking back the way he’d come.

  She got up from the swing and ran down the steps. He heard her, and turned, and when she got to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her mouth to his. He got over his shock in a hurry, hugged her waist and bent over her, cupping the back of her head, feeding from her mouth, bending her backwards, kissing her deeply.

  And then he lifted his head, looking down into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry!” They both blurted it at the same instant.

  She smiled, tears burning down her face. “It wasn’t a big a deal. I should have told you. I was mad that you didn’t take my word for what happened, that you were still protecting your father.”

  “I should’ve trusted you. You said you wouldn’t take her from me—”

  “I’ll let you take her to the Holiday Ranch tomorrow,” she said.

  “You can come, too.”

  “I don’t have to. I need to...I need to let go a little bit. You’re her father.”

  He nodded. “I want you to come.”

  She nodded, the movements jerky, the tears still flowing. “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Ten

  In the secluded clearing near the falls for which their town was named, Selene Brand Falconer stood with her best friends. She’d met her husband Cory
in this very spot, when he’d stumbled out of the woods, wounded and bleeding, and had literally fallen at her feet.

  Not much had changed. The sound of the rushing waterfall still provided the perfect background music for magic. The stars twinkled from the wide, endless expanse of sky. It was chilly tonight. You could see your breath.

  There was a big boulder in the center of their clearing now. It had been along the edge of the falls for centuries, but the women had teamed up to roll it a few yards—a monumental task, but worth it. It made the perfect altar. It held the usual items: a censer, wafting sandalwood smoke into the night, an onyx cup full of blessed water, a ritual dagger known as an athame with sacred symbols carved into its handle, a hollowed-out piece of quartz filled with sea salt, and a tiny cauldron in the center, just big enough to contain its tea light candle.

  And one item that wasn’t usually there. A photo of Matilda Louise Hawkins, soon to be Matilda Louise McIntyre, if Selene’s senses were true to form.

  The women stood in a circle around the center stone. Selene in the west, as always. Her affinity for the moon goddess who shared her name and her moonspun hair made her feel aligned with those energies.

  Helena, in the East, was the first to speak. Her brunette waves moved softly in the breeze she invoked as she lifted her hands. “I call on the energies of the east, of air, and thought, and motion. And of healing. Lend thy power unto our spell.”

  Marcy stood in the south, flame-haired and fiery, she was a powerful conjurer. She raised her hands just as Helene had. “I call on the energies of the south, of fire and passion and action. And of healing. Lend thy power unto our spell.”

  Selene raised her hands toward the west. “I call on the energies of the west, of the moon and the sea, of transformation. And of healing. Lend thy power unto our spell.” She felt the energy fill her and imagined handing off to Erica in the North.

  The north used to be Tessa’s spot, but since her death, the others had opted to keep her in the center. Her personal book of shadows represented her there. It stood on the ground, propped against the boulder. They never held a ritual without Tessa’s book there.

  Erica fit in the north. She was strong and reliable, steady and powerful. She’d toned down her goth look a lot since they’d first started meeting. Instead of jet black, her hair was dark brown, her makeup far less dramatic than in the past.

  “I call on the energies of the north,” she intoned. “Of earth, and strength and manifestation. And of healing. Lend thy power unto our spell.”

  When she felt the energy had filled her, she nodded once, and all four of them turned to face the center and spoke as one. “We call on the energies of the center, of the great above and the ascended ones. And of healing. Of the great below and our beloved ancestors. And of healing. Lend thy power unto our spell.”

  And then, moving closer to the boulder, Selene lit the two candles that stood there, one for the Goddess and one for the God, and they each closed their eyes to silently ask for the Divine to join them in their circle.

  Once she felt their powerful presence, Selene faced her sister Witches, and said, “We’re working tonight for the healing of Matilda Louise, if that be in keeping with her soul’s purpose in this lifetime. We want her whole. We want her well. We want her happy. We want her strong. We want her to enjoy a lifetime that’s rich and long.”

  Nodding, Marcy said, “Whole and well. Happy and strong. Enjoy a lifetime rich and long.” And then she said it again, clapping her hands to create a rhythm. “Whole and well. Happy and strong. Enjoy a lifetime rich long.”

  Erica picked up her drum, slung the strap over her shoulder and began beating out an elaborate rhythm that fit perfectly. Helena grabbed a rattle, shaking it in time, and they began moving clockwise around the circle, repeating the chant over and over. Their steps became a dance, arms rising, swirling, hips moving, feet keeping time. The drumbeat increased in tempo and their movements followed pace. The chant grew louder and more urgent. Higher and higher the energy grew.

  Selene could all but see it, a swirling, inverted vortex of magic, rising from their circle to a point far above it. The cone of power. They fed it with their energy, their words, their dancing footsteps, until the energy was vibrating so high and so strong they could not doubt its existence.

  The chant was rapid now. “Whole-well-happy-strong. Make her lifetime rich and long. Whole-well-happy-strong. Make her lifetime rich and long. Wholewellhappystrong! MakeherlifetimerichandLONG!”

  They stopped all at once, without even a signal. The power was so strong, so clear, and they’d been working together for so long, they could sense when the energy had peaked and it was time to release it. As they let the power rush out of them, Selene focused on Tilda’s photo, willing all that healing to go directly to the little girl it represented. As they let the magic fly, they went almost limp and sank to the ground as one.

  At the very same moment, Tessa’s book of Shadows, propped against the base of the center stone like it always was, fell face-first onto the ground.

  The women all looked at each other, their eyes wide. Selene whispered, “Thanks, Tessa. We need all the help we can get on this one.” And she blew a kiss skyward.

  Gradually, they rose, bid thanks and farewell to all the energies they had invoked and closed the circle. But the entire time, the buzz of magic remained in Selene’s veins. It had felt different tonight, more powerful than any ritual they had ever attempted.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “Somehow, it’s going to be okay.”

  #

  The arching HOLIDAY RANCH sign over the driveway was trimmed in white edged holly leaves, and dotted with heavy bunches of bright red berries. Silver bells, big ones, marked the arch’s center, long weighted ribbons dangling from their clappers. Crystal snowflakes hung from the end of each ribbon, catching the breeze, so the bells were ringing constantly.

  And that was just the beginning. The place could’ve been called North Pole, Oklahoma. There was a playground area, with white sand and igloo-shaped playhouses made of plastic and wood. A hay wagon that looked like a sleigh was pulled behind a pair of horses with jingle bell harnesses and glittery garland. Teens and adults wore green elf hats to identify them as employees.

  Emily looked down at her little girl. Tilda was looking around, wide eyed. She wore her new fuzzy green hat, because it was chilly today, and she’d been begging to wear it ever since she’d got it. Kiley met them halfway between the parking area and the small barn that had been transformed into Santa’s workshop. Spray-on snow clung to each windowpane. Christmas music wafted from speakers mounted above the open barn doors.

  “This is amazing,” Emily said.

  Joe’s sister-in-law Kiley was beaming with pride. Her eyes were sparkling, and her smile was infectious. “I can’t believe how many people are coming! I’ve sold like a hundred ornaments already today.” She crouched lower and said, “Hi, Tilda! Welcome to Holiday Ranch. I’m so glad you could come.” Then she offered her an elf hat made of felt. Red, not green like the staff wore.

  “Thanks!” Tilda pulled off the new winter hat she’d begged to wear, and handed it to Emily, then allowed Kiley to put the elf hat on her.

  “You’re welcome. Every kid gets one. And a Hayride-Sleighride, and a cup of hot cocoa, and if you want to, you can make an ornament in the workshop to take home.”

  Emily wondered how the ranch turned a profit, giving so much away, but looking around, she saw clearly how it was possible. The kids got things free for their $10 admission fee, but the parents were all carrying shopping bags and sipping cocoa too. And a lot of them were eating baked goods, as well.

  Kiley was walking while she was talking, taking them through the wide-open barn door into her “workshop.” “Everything in that section over there is made by local artists and crafters. We sell them here at a little markup.”

  There were candles, wood sculptures, jewelry, pottery, hand-painted signs, dolls, potpourri, p
otholders…

  “This is one creative town,” Emily said.

  “Who knew, right? The edible goodies are on that side. Free cocoa for the kids. Coffee for the grownups. Cider too. And plenty of cookies and treats from Sunny’s. Again, we take a markup.” She nodded toward the back wall, which was lined, floor to ceiling, with ornaments, glittering, sparkling, gleaming. And strings crisscrossed every available bit of ceiling space, holding wreath after wreath after wreath. The place smelled of cinnamon and pine.

  “I wanna ride the horsey!” Tilda shouted as she caught a glimpse of the horses grazing in a distant pasture, out past the larger barn.

  “Then the horsey, you shall ride.” Joey had just come up behind them. He scooped Tilda up and she squealed in surprise. “I’m glad you came!”

  “Me, too.”

  He met Emily’s eyes over their little girl’s head, and she nodded hello, then went over to him. Tilda headed to the craft table where piles of safe, plastic ornaments waited to be decorated with paints and glitter, and Kiley went behind her.

  Emily didn’t go after her, because she was in plain sight. She was a nervous wreck about doing what she was about to do. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m going to leave her with you for an hour.”

  He lifted his brows up so high his elf hat tilted backwards. “You are?”

  “If it’s okay with you.”

  “Of course it is.” He frowned at her. “Did pigs grow wings or has hell frozen over?”

  She made a face at his swear word, casting a quick glance around and seeing there were no little ones within earshot. “Ida Mae’s friend Betty Lou has a sick dog. She asked me to take a look. Just called me on the way here.”

  “Not going to argue, but didn’t you tell her you were taking time off to deal with Tilda’s illness?”

  “She doesn’t know about that.”

  “Honey, everyone in town knows.”

  She looked around, noticing the looks being sent her way by all who passed. Kind eyes, sympathetic ones, worried ones, encouraging ones.