Sue felt someone tugging on her shirt. Lorna said, “I don’t see a bruise.”
“That’s because you gave it to me,” Vivien stated.
“Here, let me hold it,” Lorna answered.
“Don’t touch me,” Vivien said. “I’ll be fine. It just took me by surprise.”
“Is she,” Heather’s voice moved closer as she spoke, “sleeping?”
Sue was awake, barely, but made no effort to answer them. She didn’t have anything left in her.
“Find the guys,” Heather ordered. “Have one of them carry her upstairs. I’ll go make sure there are sheets on my bed.”
“I’ll just sit right here,” Vivien said. “Maybe bring me a painkiller when you’re done? Or a bottle of wine. I don’t care which. I have the strangest urge to be numb.”
Sue tried to keep listening, but she couldn’t move. She didn’t know what kind of magic spell Lorna had worked with her hands, but Sue wasn’t about to question it. For whatever reason, right now, here on the dining room floor of a stranger’s house, she felt safe. With the pain gone and the hunger eased, she decided to let the darkness claim her.
Chapter Five
The smell of cinnamon rolls lured Sue from a deep sleep. It had to be a dream of the childhood she never experienced. Her mother drank. Her father left. Breakfast was a handful of cereal because they never had milk in the fridge. All her life, if she wanted cinnamon rolls, she had to make them herself.
Maybe this was another side effect of her head injury, another… what was it called?
She opened her eyes, not recognizing the bedroom. The blue-grey walls looked pristine, and a hint of fresh paint lingered behind the cinnamon rolls.
Phantom? No. That’s not it.
Sue sat up on the king-sized bed. The dark blue quilt looked new, but someone had scuffed the white paint on the antique bed frame to make it appear old. Stacks of moving boxes waited along a wall. She pulled the quilt off her legs and hurried to a window to look out at the lawn. She was on the second story of Old Anderson House.
The smell lingered. Didn’t people smell cinnamon rolls before they had a stroke? Or during? She was sure she’d heard that somewhere.
Phantasm? No. Shit, what is it called?
Why couldn’t she remember?
Sue’s brain felt foggy, as if she’d slept too long and had a hard time coming out of the dream and into reality. She didn’t belong here. She couldn’t go home.
Sue took a deep breath, thankful for the reprieve from gun oil and cedar.
What is it—?
“Good, you’re awake.”
“Phantosmia,” Sue said, as she turned in surprise at the sound.
Heather smiled at her. “Excuse me?”
“Olfactory hallucination,” Sue tried to explain. “I was trying to remember… It doesn’t matter. Ignore me.”
“You think you’re hallucinating?” Heather’s smile faded, and she came into the room, looking around. After a few seconds, she relaxed.
“I smell cinnamon rolls.” Sue stayed by the window, very aware of how strange this situation continued to be.
“Oh, that is not a hallucination. That heavenly smell is Lorna baking.” Heather gestured for Sue to come with her. “Why don’t you come down and eat? You have to be starving.”
“I should get back to my hotel.” Sue looked for a clock but couldn’t find one. “I need to ask them to let me stay longer. My luggage… How long have I been here?”
“Dicken’s Inn, right?” Heather again motioned that she should follow her.
“How…?” Sue frowned.
“Vivien made a few calls.” Heather chuckled. “Seriously, this is a small town. Lodging options are limited. Don’t worry. It’s all been taken care of. I sent Martin—he’s my manfriend—to go pick up your luggage.”
“I can pay for my room. I don’t need help.” Sue refused to leave the window. She crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t a charity case.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but, sweetie, look at your hand.” Heather leaned against the doorframe.
Sue glanced at her hand and found the ring was back on her finger. She began to shake.
“It’s not an accident that you’re here.” Heather moved slowly closer and held out her hands. “I don’t know what or why, but I do know that Julia’s rings are never wrong. They go to those who need them. Like me.”
Sue didn’t take the offered hands.
“Like Vivien. Like Lorna. We all needed something, and together we found the answer.” Heather took Sue’s hands in hers. “And now we’re going to help you.”
At the contact, the shaking stopped. Sue felt a strange sensation filling her as if it flowed from Heather’s hands into her. There was an eagerness to help, but beneath that was the echo of pain.
“What…?” Sue couldn’t understand what was happening. She felt a dull sadness, but it wasn’t her own. It came from Heather like an emotional beacon.
“You’re so scared,” Heather whispered. A tear slipped down her cheek. “Oh, I feel it, the fear in you. You’re terrified all the time.”
Sue snatched her hands back. “No.”
Heather wiped her tear away. “You’re scared of saying the wrong thing.”
“No,” Sue denied, even though she knew it was a lie.
“Of displeasing…who?” Heather again tried to touch her, and Sue sidestepped her.
“I have no one, so there is no one to displease,” Sue said. “My mother passed years ago. My father disappeared when I was a kid. My husband…”
Sue shook her head.
“The car accident you were talking about?” Heather asked.
“He died,” Sue said.
“So—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Sue left the room, not knowing where she was going. Seeing stairs, she hurried down them to a landing that split into two directions. She started left and stopped as the smell of cinnamon rolls became stronger. She went right and found herself in the living room by the front door.
A knock sounded seconds before the door opened. “Delivery!” A man wearing brown work pants and a t-shirt entered carrying her luggage. He’d tucked his dark hair under a black bandana. Seeing Sue, he smiled. “You must be Sue. I’m Martin.”
Sue took a step back. He had a kind smile but exuded physical strength. Her eyes inadvertently went to his hands on the bag. They were a workman’s hands, rough and scarred and strong.
“I hope I got everything,” he said.
“Thank you, hon,” Heather answered for her, thumping down the stairs. She patted Sue on the shoulder lightly as she passed and went to Martin. She gave him a quick kiss. “Would you mind putting them in my room for her?”
“No,” Sue said, more confident now that she wasn’t alone with Martin. “I can’t stay.”
“You can’t leave.” Vivien joined them from the dining room.
“Sorry to drop and run, but I have to pick up January from school,” Martin said. “They just called.”