take care of the salad.” Cassie headed for the refrigerator.
“Should I offer to help or will I be told to just stay out of the way?”
“The latter, of course,” Charity told him, her eyes twinkling at him as she glanced over her shoulder.
He leaned back in his chair. It didn’t matter how many cultures he visited, or where he traveled in the world. Some customs remained the same. The ritual dance of women preparing a meal was one.
Whether the women were barefoot by an open fire, in a log house, a stone kitchen or a Victorian mansion, they moved with a grace and rhythm that was as old as the species. Conversation ebbed and flowed as they performed their magic. He supposed he enjoyed watching because no one did this for him very often. He was a frequent guest, but never a member of the family.
He caught Chloe’s eye and they shared a moment of connection across the kitchen. The rest of the room disappeared until she was the only one left. Then Cassie touched her arm and she turned away from him. He was again on the outside. He envied her the place she held in this special world.
* * *
THE DINNER DISHES had been pushed to the center of the table, but no one was in a hurry to pick them up. Arizona tore apart the last piece of garlic bread as Cassie raised her hands in frustration.
“How can you say it’s not true?” she asked. “The nightgown has been in the Bradley family for generations.”
“It’s just a nightgown,” Chloe insisted. “How can you say it has magic powers? As I’ve said before, there is no such thing as magic or destiny. It’s all smoke and mirrors.”
Cassie shook her head. “Aunt Charity, you talk to her.”
“She won’t listen to me,” the older woman said. “Arizona, you have a go at it. Chloe is our resident cynic.”
“I’ll try.” He leaned forward and stared at the beautiful woman sitting across from him. He would rather carry her up to bed, but that hadn’t been offered as one of the options, so he thought about the various feats of magic he’d experienced personally.
“Several years ago I was in India,” he began. “A boy had been mauled by a tiger stalking the village. The cat nearly took off his leg. Although the bone wasn’t broken, he lost a lot of blood.”
He tried not to notice the way her eyes darkened as her pupils widened with the storytelling. He tried to ignore the scent of her body, the slender curves beneath her dress or the way he knew how great it would be between them, almost as if they’d been lovers before.
“If he’d been near a hospital, he might have had a chance,” he continued. “But the village didn’t even have a nurse, let alone medical facilities. My grandfather and I knew the boy was going to die and we could only offer painkillers to ease his passing.”
He paused, remembering his own fear from that night. He’d been thirteen or fourteen, and he could relate to the screams of fear and pain from the injured child.
“That night the village performed an old ceremony of sacrifice and worship. They came together to heal one of their own. I wasn’t allowed to attend—I was considered too young. But I heard it. The singing and chanting. I smelled the incense. I don’t know what they did but it worked. When I went to visit him the next morning, I was afraid he would already be dead. Instead, I found him sitting up. His wound had nearly healed. He was talking and laughing because the pain was gone. Within a week, it was as if it had never happened. Since then, I’ve witnessed many things I can’t explain.”
“Wow,” Cassie breathed. “That is so cool.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Every supermarket tabloid has a story about people being abducted by aliens. Do you believe that, too?”
So she was a doubter. Somehow that made the challenge more interesting. “I saw the boy. When I see aliens abducting people from cornfields, I’ll believe that as well.”
“I want to know what has made you believe in all this.”
“I want to know what has made you such a cynic,” he responded. “Do you mean to tell me that in all your twenty-five years there hasn’t been one incident you can’t explain? One event or circumstance that makes no sense, but that you can’t deny?”
Their gazes locked. Something flickered in her eyes. Something that called out to him and if they’d been alone...
But they weren’t, he reminded himself. They had two very interested onlookers.
“My, look at the time,” Chloe said. “If we don’t get these dishes soaking, they’ll never come clean.”
With that she sprang to her feet and started to clear the table. The other two women moved to help her. Cassie shooed Arizona back into his seat when he tried to assist. His gaze followed Chloe. She was hiding something. He could feel it.
There was a mystery behind her pretty face and he had every intention of solving it.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I LOOK like a bridesmaid,” Cassie complained.
Chloe fluffed her sister’s hair. “You look beautiful. I love that dress.”
“It’s too young. I should change into something else. Why can’t I look sophisticated, like you?”
Chloe faced front and studied their reflections in the mirror. They stood in her bathroom, both ready to go out for the evening. Cassie wore a long-sleeved, silky dress of pale pink that fell to midcalf. Lace edged the oversize collar. Her thick hair had been smoothed away from her face, exposing the gold heart earrings she always wore—the earrings that matched Chloe’s locket—a legacy from their mother.
Chloe was willing to admit that while Cassie didn’t look like a bridesmaid, there was definitely something virginal about her dress and her expression. She was still untouched by the ways of the world. Chloe thought about her own heartache and figured her sister was lucky to still be so unaware of the emotional pain that awaited her.
Chloe turned her attention to her own reflection. In contrast to her sister’s innocence, she looked ready for sin. She’d pulled her long curls up on top of her head, securing them in a large clip. The ends fell to the back of her neck and danced against her bare skin. Her dress was simple. A scoop-neck, long-sleeved velvet dress. The soft burgundy fabric came to midthigh, exposing a lot of leg.
Overtly sexy wasn’t her usual style, but then neither was a man like Arizona. She was attending a reception in his honor. She figured she needed all the help she could get just to maintain some kind of power base in the relationship. If only she weren’t so attracted to him, she might have a fighting chance. But she was attracted. She shivered at the thought of being near him again. Of seeing him and talking to him. Lord help her if he asked her to dance. She would probably become a giant puddle right there on the dance floor.
“I hate being short,” Cassie said with a sigh.
“You’re five-five. That’s average, not short. Besides, I would love to be petite.”
“Me, too.” Cassie patted her hips. “Instead, I’m
