With relief, Alora noted none of the resulting nausea that she’d experienced the last few times Arista had been in close proximity.
I’m not sure what that means, but I’m glad she doesn’t reek of evil anymore.
Arista sat down near Beth, nibbling on her bread with an absent expression. She picked up her mug as if to take a drink, but froze, staring across the room.
Alora followed her line of sight, but saw nothing of interest on the wall Arista studied so intently.
“Alora, you should take me back soon.” Beth stood, stretching her arms over her head. “Oh Arista, I forgot to ask about your horse’s leg. Is she better today?”
With her mug poised in mid-air, Arista gave no sign she’d heard the question.
“Hey, Arista? Are you in there?” Beth tapped her arm.
Arista jumped. “I apologize, Beth. I lost something and spent most of the day looking for it. And I can only think of one person who could have stolen it.” Arista kept her eyes on her lap, tearing the bread into smaller and smaller pieces.
“Who?” asked Beth.
“Markaeus.”
“If Markaeus stole something, Alora can fetch it in a few minutes when she takes me home.” Beth picked up her canvas bag, collecting her belongings.
“What exactly did Markaeus steal?” Standing up, Alora prepared to take Beth back to Montana, wondering if she should simply return the stolen item or tell Uncle Charles what Markaeus had done.
Arista’s head shrank between her shoulders, a tsunami of guilt barreling out to knock Alora to her knees.
Crying out, Kaevin sprang from his chair, grasping her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Alora?”
“I was careless.” Alora rose on wobbly legs. “I left my empathy gift open, and Arista...”
Wait a minute... Why is Arista s
o remorseful?
With one arm around Kaevin for support, Alora edged in front of Arista’s chair. This time she reinforced her emotional block to be certain she wouldn’t experience the feelings of anyone in the room. “What’s going on, Arista? What did Markaeus steal from you and why is it making you feel guilty?”
With her head tucked down, Arista mumbled an answer.
“It’s a scroll—the one I took from Vindrake’s chest.”
~12~
Charles looked forward to dinner. “Doc” A. J. Sanders had been one of his best friends for most of his life and remained essential in hiding Alora’s true identity by forging a birth certificate. If not for Doc’s help, Charles and Lena wouldn’t have had a plausible excuse for the existence of the infant who’d been placed in their care by her dying mother. At the time, neither Doc, nor Charles and his wife, had any notion of the world from which Alora originated.
Doc had married Beth’s mother, Janice, about thirty days ago in a quiet family ceremony, though she refused to wear the big, fancy diamond ring he bought her, preferring instead a plain gold band. When the two were together, Charles could tell Doc was crazy about her and Janice glowed in his admiration.
Fortunately, Beth had adapted well, glad to see her mother happy for once in her life. And A. J. wisely chose not to interfere with Janice’s parenting. Not much.
Thinking about the upcoming discussion of how to handle Sergeant Justice made Charles’ stomach churn like he’d eaten three bowls of extra spicy chili. The annoying reporter had been in the back of Charles’ mind the entire afternoon while he worked, but he hadn’t come up with any good ideas.
Dinner had been moved to the Franks’ house to celebrate Brian’s birthday, a happy occurrence for Markaeus, who enjoyed spending time with Wesley and Daegreth. Charles assumed Doc would tell Brian and Karen about the television reporter, and they probably deserved to know. If Justice poked his nose around Alora’s friends, he might discover Daegreth, who had a hard time blending in despite his resemblance to the Franks family.
Charles missed Alora more than he’d anticipated, not realizing how much he enjoyed her company and—though it was hard to admit—Kaevin’s and Jireo’s as well. The past few months, with all the young people at the ranch, he became accustomed to lively conversation, ample help with the ranch chores, and evenings filled with popcorn, laughter, and board games. Now, with Markaeus as his only companion, the big house felt empty. He hoped to see Alora tonight when she transported Beth back from her nightly visit. She usually made a point to stop by and spend at least fifteen minutes with him at the ranch, but she might not feel up to dealing with the intense questions Karen Franks habitually doled out.
Charles hesitated before knocking on the front door. “Markaeus, why did you bring a backpack with you to dinner? Please tell me you haven’t got any critters in there.” Markaeus had a propensity for collecting unusual pets, most of whom would be considered ‘pests’ by any other Montana resident. He didn’t have the heart to discourage the boy, since he seemed to find comfort in “talking” to the animals.
“No, Uncle Charles. It’s something I need Alora to take to Arista. Won’t we see Alora tonight when she brings Beth back to Montana? It’s really important for Arista to have it.”
“I don’t know. We might not see her, since we won’t be at home. But I’m sure she’ll come visit us tomorrow night or the next.”