Page 14 of A Snowy Seaside Christmas
Nate listened, his eyes growing wide. He knew how seriously she took positive and negative energy, and understanding whatit meant to her, realised that it must have been bad if she’d had to resort to a cleansing ritual that late in the evening.
She continued the story as they ate, and when she arrived at the point where she discovered the contents of the tin, he stopped chewing and set his knife and fork down, his expression one of disbelief.
He swallowed his mouthful. ‘No way! Apistol?’
‘Yep, a pistol.’ Lark nodded slowly. Annoyingly, she found her attention being pulled away from their conversation and onto his aura, its shades and textures. They seemed so wrong. So unlike Nate.
Her heart juddered as her thoughts flew back in time to the person who’d previously generated this same awful feeling in her gut: Greer.
TWELVE
‘Lark? Lark? Lark, are you okay?’ said a faint voice at the back of her consciousness. Thoughts barged around her mind, but the thud of her heart galloping and the anxiety whooshing in her ears drowned out all other sounds. Tears started brewing at the back of her eyes.
No! Please, no! Not Nate! I don’t want to see this! I don’t want to feel it!
The touch of Nate’s hand on her forearm yanked Lark back into the room. She blinked and shook her head. ‘Huh?’ She swallowed, drawing in a slow breath in a bid to calm herself.
‘You okay, lass? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which I know you probably did, or summat like it last night. I know I’m not sensitive to that sort of stuff like you, but I can honestly say this place still has its familiar calm atmosphere. Still feels warm and welcoming.’ He offered a concerned smile and squeezed her arm.
‘Sorry, Nate – and thank you, that’s reassuring to know.’ She arranged her face into a smile. ‘My mind just went back to poor old Luna and her reaction to the suitcase. It was quite something and so unlike her.’ She hoped her explanation sounded convincing.
‘Sounds like the poor lass was terrified.’ He moved his hand from her arm and picked up his knife and fork once more. ‘I honestly thought it would contain something completely innocent; costume jewellery or accessories like fancy purses or hair slides – the sort of thing you sell in your shop. Never in a million years did I expect you to say a pistol or any of the other stuff you unearthed.’
‘Yeah, same here.’ With anxiety loosening its grip, Lark was able to think straight once more. She reminded herself of her theory of how Nate had very probably absorbed some of the energy from his vintage clothing and the second-hand furniture he handled on a regular basis. It had very probably interfered with his aura again. The reminder offered instant relief, brightening her mood once more. She told herself to keep it in mind for the next time she found herself focusing on these weird, confusing sensations.
But there was still a part of her that doubted this, still a part of her that wondered about the dramatic change in the energy that emanated from him, the significant change in his aura. Was it too easy to explain it away with her Crayke’s Cottage theory? she wondered. There was no getting away from the fact that it didn’t rest easy with her. Not that she wanted Nate to know.
Nate looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I s’pose I should let old Mr Thurston know what you found, too. I get that since I’ve paid him for them, it means the contents technically belong to me – and the cases to you, since I gave you them – but the pistol could have some sort of historic value, might be worth a bit. Wouldn’t feel right not mentioning it to him. And the key might be for somewhere in the cottage – he should know about that, too.’
‘I agree, that had crossed my mind.’
‘Mind, something tells me he won’t be interested no matter what it is – well, maybe if it was a chest of gold sovereigns,then I reckon that might make his lugs prick up a bit.’ He gave her a wide grin that made her heart melt and sent her worries scurrying away. She felt her gaze drop to his mouth.
Stop that right now!
What the heck was going on? Where were these feelings coming from so out of the blue like this? Not two minutes ago she was worried to death about him. Talk about confusing!
She’d always known Nate was her type, but even despite the strange feelings that had warned her off him, she’d told herself more times than she cared to remember that he was too young for her. It was a fact she’d always accepted. Until now, and her mind had suddenly decided otherwise. Or should she be blaming her heart for steering her mind in the wrong direction?
Was seven years really such a big age gap? she wondered. He was coming up for twenty-eight, so it wasn’t as if he was a baby, though admittedly, his boyish sense of humour did sometimes make her think he was younger than his years. His youthful looks didn’t exactly help with that either. But he had so much in his favour that made him perfect boyfriend material. He was kind-hearted and considerate, always the first to offer if anyone needed help with anything, and he was rarely without a smile. She found his easy-going, level-headed nature hugely appealing. Like her, he avoided drama and conflict, preferring a quiet life. In fact, in so many ways he put her in mind of her dad – didn’t they say girls were always attracted to men like their father? On top of that, there was no getting away from the fact he was really quite attractive. Well, more than “quite” attractive, if Lark was being honest with herself. Looking at him today, his soft, dark eyes that she found so appealing were making her knees go a little weak despite the tiredness that loitered behind them.
It had been a good six months since he’d last tested the water on whether or not there was a chance she’d ever change hermind about them being more than friends. As usual, she’d let him down gently, and, as usual, he’d taken it graciously.
But something had changed for Lark, almost overnight – it was as if realisation had dawned on her that they went well together, that she enjoyed his company on a level that went beyond friendship. And it was in conflict with the ever-present feeling in her gut that was holding her back, warning her that a romantic relationship with Nate was a path she shouldn’t walk down. But… ‘Ugh!’ She huffed out a sigh and brushed the stray curls off her face. She was becoming frustrated with the warning, and couldn’t remember a time when her mind had been in such turmoil.
‘What’s up?’ Nate’s voice pushed into her thoughts.
‘Hm?’ She scrabbled around her brain, searching for an answer. ‘Oh, I was just thinking about Luna’s reaction last night again, poor kitty.’ She pulled a suitably sympathetic face.
‘I wouldn’t worry about her. No permanent harm done there, she seems right as rain to me.’ He seemed to have bought her reply – again.
‘Yeah, you’re right.’
While they finished their breakfast and moved on to the washing up, Lark filled Nate in on her idea of getting in touch with the curator at the local museum, which he agreed would be the best course of action. She also shared the conversation she’d had with her father. Nate seemed genuinely thrilled to hear Silas was thinking of moving back to Micklewick Bay. The way he spoke of her dad, she’d always got the impression he looked upon him as some sort of father figure, which was hardly surprising since he barely saw his own. Ronan Wilkinson had walked out on Nate’s mum when Nate was a young boy. The little contact between them had been sporadic over the years, which Nate seemed resigned to.
Lark’s heart was beating a tattoo as she and Nate made their way along Smugglers Row on their way to Crayke’s Cottage. He had the small suitcase gripped firmly in his hand. The snow-covered lanes were peppered with footprints and despite it being just after nine o’clock, a handful of pavements had already been cleared. Unlike the grey clouds that hung over the town yesterday, today was all bright winter sunshine and clear blue skies. The temperature, however, was a good couple of degrees lower, as the spiteful wind that blew in off the sea reminded them.
Turning into Micklemackle Yard, Lark shivered, and not just because she was cold. Anxiety had started to sneak its way in as she recalled the vibes she’d picked up from the suitcase the night before. She wasn’t looking forward to facing them again.
