Shadows of the Redwood (4 page)

“Ladies, please do come in.” Master Oswald was faking an English accent. Badly.

Two leather wingback chairs were in front of the desk, and their occupants stood up. Sean and Risa.

Keelie stepped back into the doorway and let Grandmother lead so that she’d have a chance to control her expression. How humiliating if they’d seen her joy at spotting Sean turn to anger at the sight of Risa.

Risa smiled at her, eyes flashing, and Keelie knew she’d seen.

Sean bowed. “Good day, Lady Keliatiel. Please take my seat. We were just leaving.” His eyes connected with Keelie’s.

Keelie gave him a squinty evil look. “Fancy seeing the two of you. Together.”

His gaze darkened, and Keelie shivered. She loved that look. Not that she was going to let on.

“So lovely to see you here, Lord Sean,” Grandmother purred. She glanced dismissively at Risa. “And you too, of course, Risa my dear.” Grandmother’s tone was a whole iceberg.

Risa curtseyed, the movement loosening a cascade of red curls that tumbled over her shoulder. Keelie walked behind Grandmother’s chair and gripped its back, enjoying a brief vision of tearing out those red curls by the roots.

Risa’s smile was as fake as the Lord Mayor’s accent. “I’m here with my own business this year. Your family has been so successful with its woodworking, and father and I hope that our herbal remedies will be as popular. We’re honored to begin with the Juliet City Shakespeare Festival.” She batted her eyes at the mayor, who grinned in appreciation.

Fabulous. Keelie would have to stock up on aspirin.

The Lord Mayor beamed at them. “We’re very excited to have Lady Risa selling her wares at our festival, and it’s so wonderful that all of you are friends already.”

Keelie never thought she’d admit this, but she was actually going to miss Elia.

“Thank you for your time.” Risa gave the Lord Mayor a megawatt elf-charm smile. As she glided past Sean, Risa stopped and put a hand on his arm. “Thank
you
for your help.”

Keelie’s face burned. She stared at Sean, willing him to look at her. She didn’t care if she seemed rude. Sean glanced over at her, then turned to Risa. “Your business will be a success, I know it.”

“Lord Sean, we’re going to be needing your help, along with the other jousters, to unload the furniture into our shop.” Grandmother stared pointedly at him.

“Yes, milady.” Sean bowed to Grandmother and headed toward the door. “See you later, Keelie.”

Risa wrinkled her nose and frowned, but then her expression smoothed and her smile returned, a little forced this time.

Keelie wished she could stare at people and cats and make them do as she willed, a talent her Grandmother wielded
effortlessly.

When Risa left, the Lord Mayor turned to them, sighing. “She’s quite a lovely woman.”

“Do you have our registration information?” Grandmother glared disapprovingly at him. Keelie had been on the receiving end of that look before and knew its scorching effect.

The festival director shook his head as if clearing it. “Yes. Yes. I do.”

He strode over to a filing cabinet and pulled open a drawer, retrieving a brown envelope. “Here we go—Heartwood.”

The Lord Mayor handed the envelope over to Grandmother. “We’re very excited to have you at our festival. I understand you’ll be staying in the forest instead of at the players’ village.”

In the forest?

Keelie looked at Grandmother, who made a sideways chopping motion with her hand. Later. Okay, she’d wait, but it had better be for a good reason. All the Faire folk stayed in the players’ village, including Sir Davey when he arrived in his massive RV. Keelie had been looking forward to a hot shower and morning lattes and muffins in his luxurious digs. Instead, it sounded like they might be camping.

Grandmother smiled regally and inclined her head slightly. Keelie realized that Grandmother looked younger as she spoke to the director. She turned her head and looked at Grandmother from the corner of her eyes, which Dad had taught her was the way to see through elven charm, the glamour they cast to fool humans. Same old Grandmother, stern and elegant. Keelie looked at her straight on, and saw that she seemed younger and taller, and her chest was perkier. The old sneak was using elf charm on the director.

The Lord Mayor bowed, and Keelie followed Grandmother outside. She almost knocked down a slender man, in a red and green harlequin suit, carrying a jester hat under his arm. As the door pushed him back, the bells on his hat jangled, making Keelie shiver at the discordant sound. He grinned like a slithery snake, creeping Keelie out. She felt itchy, as if she’d broken out in a rash underneath her skin. The jester bowed and waited until they were outside, then he slipped in.

There was no sign of Sean or Risa anywhere around. Keelie opened the folded festival map and propped it on the rail fence next to the cottage, scratching at her arm as she located Heartwood.

“Risa was impertinent,” Grandmother huffed. “She seemed to think Sean would agree to her advances.”

“I thought you were all in favor of them getting together? Being full-blooded elves and all.” Keelie kept her eyes on the map, but started walking toward the Heartwood shop. Grandmother trailed behind her.

“Don’t be smart, Keliel. You know that I was wrong, and I apologized. You and Sean have feelings for each other.” Grandmother walked briskly at Keelie’s side.

Grandmother was imagining things. Keelie had never heard an apology, but she didn’t want to start a fight at the beginning of their stay. A fight would ruin her chances of getting to L.A.

“That’s ancient history.” Keelie knew it wasn’t, but she didn’t want to talk about it any more. “Why are we staying in the forest? Is there a campground there? A civilized one?” She quelled the whine that threatened to creep into her voice.

“There is a campground. Our work is in the forest, and we need to stay close to the trees.” Grandmother slowed as they reached the main road. Keelie could see Sean and several of his elven jousters, waiting outside a roomy timber building with a peaked roof pitched high and a heart-shaped sign swinging above the front. Heartwood.

She gave Sean a dirty look and smiled at the other elves as she ran inside. “Grandmother, look at all this room. I can set up the shop any way I want.”

Grandmother followed, looking up at the rafters and checking out the little storage area in the back. “I suppose you can do whatever you like. It’s not our main mission here.”

Keelie returned to the front of the store, which was open to the street and had a long counter. She would put Dad’s dollhouses here. They’d sold very well at the Wildewood Faire and she didn’t know why he hid them in the back.

The next hours were spent moving back and forth from the trailer in the parking lot to the Heartwood shop, as Sean and several jousters carried Dad’s furniture. The jousters left to care for their horses, but Sean stayed to help Keelie and Grandmother move the merchandise around until they were pleased with the effect.

Grandmother was impressed by Keelie’s eye for display, and Keelie didn’t admit that she’d just copied the way the furniture was arranged at the High Mountain Faire in Colorado. If Sean remembered the way the shop had been laid out there, he didn’t give it away.

“I can’t believe we’re done.” Grandmother pushed a strand of silver hair from her forehead. “We’ll have plenty of time to clean up before dinner.”

Dinner? That would likely be bread and cheese, since Keelie wanted to sleep for a couple of days. But she waved at her grandmother and continued to unpack the business gear that went behind the massive counter. She ran across the velvet bag she’d jammed in at the last moment, filled with extra rose quartz charms. Just in case. She pulled a couple out and put them in her pocket.

Keelie worked steadily until Sean wandered over. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt emblazoned with the Silver Bough logo. He rubbed sweat from his face with his forearm. “It gets hot fast when you’re working hard.”

“I appreciate your help. I know Grandmother kind of forced you to do it, but we couldn’t have unpacked everything ourselves.”

Sean reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt, then pulled it off in a single move. As the sweatshirt came off, it dragged up the T-shirt he wore underneath, giving Keelie a view of smooth skin over tight abs. She gripped her pen tighter.

“I didn’t do it for your grandmother.” He shook his hair. “I did it for you.”

“Thanks.” Keelie’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

Sean ran a hand along the countertop. “When I do this, I feel a kind of buzzing, but the wood doesn’t speak to me as it does to you.”

Keelie swallowed, recovering her composure. “Dad says that all elves feel magic, but only tree shepherds hear the trees.”

“You’re more than elf. You’re part fae, too, so you’re different.”

“That’s me.” Keelie spoke lightly, but inwardly cringed. She’d been “different” all of her life, everywhere she went. She changed the subject. “I love the shop’s location, right off the main road. Everyone will have to walk by here when they enter the faire.” She leaned over to straighten the staplers, receipt books, and the credit card machine on the shelf under the counter.

“Better call it the festival,” Sean advised. “They’re sensitive about it. It’s highbrow literature here, you know, not just Ren Faire hijinks.” He winked at her. “Your father will do good business here.” He leaned over the counter, his face close to hers as she straightened.

Keelie didn’t move, hoping he wouldn’t either. “That’s why he let me come with Grandmother. We’ll do okay.”

“Better than okay.” His eyes were on her lips. “You know that there’s nothing between Risa and me.”

“Prove it.” She lifted her chin a tiny bit, moving her mouth closer to his.

“Keelie Heartwood, is that you?” The man’s voice was familiar.

They jumped apart. Keelie looked around Sean, irritated at the interruption. She couldn’t believe it. Her father’s former apprentice, Scott, had entered the shop.

He looked so different. His shoulders were still broad, but now he looked more muscular. Black hair fell rakishly over one eye, and he wore a decent band T-shirt and jeans that fit. Keelie couldn’t believe someone could change from a geek to a hunk in less than a year.

“You know him?” Sean asked. He glowered at Scott, who was smiling at Keelie.

“Yes,” she replied. “Don’t you? This is Scott. He was at the High Mountain Faire, too. He was Dad’s apprentice.”

Sean frowned, then nodded. “Of course. You’ve changed.”

Scott smiled broadly. “Been working out.”

“It shows,” Keelie said.

Sean turned his frown toward her.

“What? I’m paying the man a compliment.” Keelie gave Sean the “you’re not the boss of me” glare.

Scott looked quickly from Keelie to Sean. “Is something wrong? You need help, Keelie?”

“I’m all the help she needs,” Sean growled.

This was a possessive side of Sean that Keelie had never seen. She wasn’t sure that she liked it.

The two men squared off, with Keelie trapped behind the counter. She was torn between horror that they might actually fight over her and a hidden “squee!” of delight.

She turned back to Scott, hoping to defuse the situation. “So, where’s your woodshop?”

Scott turned to her, deliberately excluding Sean from his sight. “I work at Tudor Turnings.” He pointed casually toward the two-story building that leaned crookedly across the road. Its black-and-white, half-timbered second story overshot the first floor, and hung over part of the path like a saggy, out-of-breath old man. Scott grinned at her expression. “It was built that way on purpose.”

“You have got to be kidding. It looks dangerous.”

Sean seemed to relax as the conversation turned more general.

“I’ve got the building inspections to prove it’s not. Want a tour of the inside?”

Sean’s mouth turned down even more. Keelie really wanted to go into the strange building, but she also wanted to kiss Sean, and if she went off with Scott the chances of that happening again might fade. Although she was having second thoughts about kissing Sean after that macho-elf display.

As if summoned by the almost-kiss, Risa appeared on the road outside, wearing a gypsy outfit with a tight corset that showed off her assets as if they were muffin tops on a plate. She was carrying a frosty pewter goblet.

“Lord Sean, I heard you were working hard and thought you might be thirsty.” She put her pouty red lips to the goblet’s rim and sipped. “Ummm … honeyed mead. I brought it for you, but couldn’t resist a taste.” She offered the goblet to Sean.

Oh, brother. Could the girl be more obvious?

Sean reached for the goblet, but Scott beat him to it. “I’m thirsty, too, and I appreciate the offer of a drink, milady.” His eyes looked her up and down appreciatively, then rested on her chest.

Risa looked startled as Scott grabbed the goblet, but just before he put it to his mouth she shrieked, “No!” and slapped it away. The goblet fell to the path and its contents spilled.

Scott stared, dumbstruck, at Risa. “Geez, I was just going to take a sip. I wasn’t going to hog it. Sean could have had some.”