Rebecca's Quest, page 6
part #8 of Finding Magic Series Series
Becky’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment and uncertainty. She pushed herself up from the sand, shoved her hands into her pockets. Now the amulet’s cold metal pressed against her hip.
The moment she turned away from the frolicking pair the beach became bathed in moonlight behind her, as if a switch had been flipped. A big, sprawling country house with a wide porch all around it appeared on the hill ahead. The house was lit from within and adorned with paper lanterns and firelight around the perimeter, encircled the home with inviting warmth.
The gardens were lit, too, by strings of bulbs overhead and candles and lanterns placed everywhere. The long driveway was lined with them, marking a clear path to the house from the dark beach road.
Music floated over the roof and beyond. A party was in full swing in the back garden. Laughter and muted voices wafted on the now-pleasant summer breeze blowing down the hill. The scent of lilacs saturated the air around her.
Becky couldn’t make out any specific words spoken by the party people, but the entire vibe was welcoming. She walked toward the glowing invitation.
She didn’t recognize the house or the rest of the scene from this distance. If she’d visited this place before, she couldn’t recall a time. But it had a familiar feeling. The whole scene was much more inviting to consider than freefalling to be impaled on the sharp rocks at the bottom of the ravine.
From a higher vantage point, the views were probably breathtaking. She sauntered up the hill toward the party, lighthearted. With each step the situation seemed more surreal, and as she climbed she imagined riding a beautiful horse along this path.
Her feet settled into a steady pace along the dark roadway she hadn’t noticed earlier, and after a few moments, a horse like she’d imagined fell into step beside her. Becky smiled. She was no stranger to horses. Amazing that she’d thought about riding a horse, and a few moments later, a horse appeared. She could get used to creating her experiences this way. It was fun.
She noticed the stallion’s gleaming chestnut coat and perfectly groomed white mane. This was no common workhorse. The horse pranced along like an Arabian. She’d had a horse almost exactly like him once. She’d loved her horse as only a young girl can, . She’d had long conversations with him, imagining his replies, similar to those she’d had with her dolls when she was even younger. She’d often wished her horse could really talk. She’d wondered what he might say.
She smiled. Maybe now was the time to find out how horses actually thought.
“What’s your name, buddy?” Becky reached out to touch him. She jerked her hand back because of the intense heat he radiated. But it was too late.
Her palm was already blistering. Intense pain brought glassy tears to her eyes.
The pain triggered odd memories or dreams or something that flashed through her head like pushing a fast-forward button for a few seconds. The images had three things in common: Becky, the horse, and her blistered hand that hurt like hell. Then the rapid slideshow stopped abruptly.
She spied a bucket of water on the ground in front of her feet, which she would have sworn there a moment ago.
Becky knelt and pushed her sore hand into the soothing coolness that enveloped her hand and absorbed the burn. Like aloe gel takes away the sting of sunburns in summer.
When she pulled her hand back and examined it, her palm was magically cool and as smooth as it had been before she’d burned it.
Awestruck, she looked up at the horse and remembered his name. She knew who he was. The whole scene came flooding back.
Becky was barely thirteen. That morning Aunt Julia and Uncle Alex had sold their farm and left the only home Paul had ever known. She’d saddled her big stallion and galloped away from the barn, crying. She cried a lot in the early months after Paul’s accident, but when his parents left that day, Becky’s heart broke again. The thin barrier of courage holding her tears at bay collapsed.
She held onto the reins as her horse thundered for miles until she could cry no more.
When she became aware of her surroundings again, she’d reached Paul’s favorite orchard. The very place where she’d first realized she loved him.
Becky hadn’t been back there since. She couldn’t bear the thought of coming there without Paul. She felt his loss more keenly in that place than anywhere else, too.
She slid out of the saddle and walked between the trees, her stallion following beside her. When they reached the crest of the orchard, they stopped and overlooked West Bay.
Becky looked at the grass under their favorite tree. “Paul loved sitting in that precise spot. I can’t believe he’s gone. I miss him so much, every day.”
Tears spilled from her eyes once more, when she’d once believed she had no more left to shed.
The stallion’s reins fell from her hand. She lowered her eyes and whispered. “I’m so sorry for capsizing the boat. I should have known better. I wasn’t watching. I miss you, Paul. I wish you were here with me again.”
The next thing she knew, Paul’s arms were wrapped around her and she was laughing and crying all at the same time.
Becky shook the strange visions from her mind. Everything had been so vivid and real. Was the scene an actual memory? Or had she been hallucinating, even as a teen? Her father suffered from depression, which in his case was a mental illness. Maybe genetics were at play here. Maybe she was actually psychotic after all.
We’re almost there. The stallion’s unspoken voice pulled her from the emotional memory. He snorted like horses do, and she felt his warm breath in the air beside her. He tilted his head toward the house, coaxing her to walk along.
Still baffled and disoriented by the scene in the orchard, she moved with him because he was walking toward the house and she didn’t have a better plan. “Where are we going?”
He bared his teeth—which could have been a smile or something else entirely. When she said nothing, he gentled his tone. “Come on, Rebecca. You know this place. These people, too. Feel it.”
Before he finished speaking she was already shaking her head. Her hair flew out like a slow-motion shampoo commercial. But curiously not her hair, exactly. Her eyes caught a glimpse, not of her straight brown locks, but of strands of blond hair. Much longer than she wore her hair. Curly, too. She’d wanted hair like this once. She’d begged her mother for a perm and highlights to make it so. She grinned with delight.
“Wait.” Becky reached out to stop him and drew her hand back quickly without touching his coat because of what happened the last time she did. She stopped walking and he paused a few steps ahead.
He turned to gaze at her through huge brown eyes flecked with gold. She’d know those eyes anywhere. She’d gazed into them most of her early life. “Paul Berg. That’s who you are.”
His lips parted in something like a real grin. Or as close as a horse’s mouth can come to one, she supposed.
“At your service,” he replied and dipped his long neck as if to bow, which didn’t seem strange to her at all. She’d imagined conversations with Paul the horse many times before when she was younger. “Took you long enough. Why do you struggle so much? Can’t you simply embrace your destiny, like the rest of us? Neither one of us are getting any younger.”
Okay, so now the conversation was a little bit strange. That’s not the kind of talk she’d have imagined on her own. This wasn’t the strangest thing she’d experienced today, though. So she decided to go with it until she could figure out the cause.
“I’m seventeen, Paul. You are, too. We have years and years ahead of us.” She shook her head at the foolishness of what she’d just said. Paul was dead. This was a hallucination. It had to be. Just like when she’d imagined Paul was still with her back in the orchard like it had been all those years ago. “What destiny are you talking about?”
“You must discover all of this for yourself, Rebecca. No one is allowed to tell you anything. But you know. You’ve always known. You’re overthinking it. If something doesn’t make sense, it’s because you’re analyzing instead of trusting your gut.” He blew a long, long breath, warm as sunshine. “Never mind. You’ll go back to Gray Cliffs or you won’t. I don’t have it in me to try to convince you anymore.”
But they’d never argued about Gray Cliffs, had they? Paul had died even before she applied for the scholarship…
Paul had been her first and only boyfriend. The boy next door. His parents were best friends with her parents. She and Paul had been inseparable for years. Until their friendship became something more.
She’d loved him passionately and deeply. She believed he was her soul mate. She’d pined for him the entire time he’d been gone. Remembering how she’d lost him brought a tear to her eyes, and her lip quivered. “You, you d-died when we capsized in the bay. Years before I ever applied for the Gray Cliffs scholarship. You never even heard about me going to Gray Cliffs.”
He wagged his long neck from side to side. “No time for this…come on. Olivia is waiting. You know how impatient she gets.” He sighed, if that’s what horses could be said to do, turned his gaze forward, and resumed his easy stride. “Besides, I’m hungry.”
Becky laughed. Before she even thought to censor herself, she quipped, “You’re always hungry.”
“True.”
Becky’s laughter bubbled out freely then. As if he’d said the funniest thing ever.
Paul’s appetite was legendary. He could really pack it away. His eating habits were a running joke at her family dinner table where he had eaten most nights. His parents, too.
Becky no longer cared why a horse was talking to her or why he claimed to be Paul. She had missed Paul so much. He was the only boy she ever loved, and she never expected to love another. They’d been together since before they were born, really. He was a few months older, but that was okay.
Right now, she felt loved. She felt like Paul was with her, whether he was or not. She could stay right there forever with this unusual Paul and be blissfully happy, even if he was a horse now instead of the handsome boy of her dreams. Maybe she would do precisely that. Go with the flow, Becky, Paul would have said. Why not?
“I imagine the food is in the back garden where all the people are,” Becky said, smiling. “Let’s go see what’s available.”
No sooner had she made the suggestion, than she was somehow transported to the festive back garden she’d imagined when she first saw the house. She found herself standing among the guests and the music and the twinkling lights, feeling astonished, but happy and normal for the first time in a while.
As she soaked up the atmosphere, a sense of deja vu settled over her. Paul had been right. This place was familiar. She’d been here before. Many times. Joy flooded through her when she remembered the happy afternoons with her family and Paul’s spent in this very garden when they were young children. So long ago. Such distant memories had practically disappeared from her consciousness.
The amulet was alight, warming in the pocket of her jeans, which had somehow become a flowing blue skirt. The hem rested around her ankles. When she glanced down at her feet, she saw strappy sandals and toenails sporting a fresh pedicure. The polish was glittering green, catching the fairy lights and bouncing back.
She wondered how and where the polish came from. She hadn’t bothered with her feet since she’d moved to Gray Cliffs. Stuffed in those heavy brogues she’d been forced to wear as a part of her uniform—no one ever saw her toes anyway. And even if she’d been fastidious about her feet, surely she hadn’t chosen polish like that. Red was her color. Or pink. And definitely not green, and no sparkles of any kind.
Her feet weren’t the only part of her body that had suddenly morphed into a more mature Becky. Her arms were adorned with silver and gold bangles a teenager wouldn’t wear. A silky blouse with cap sleeves and a low neckline revealed the curves of her breasts. She tilted her chin down to look and resisted the urge to touch them. They didn’t feel exactly like her breasts. She was no busty babe, although she’d often wondered whether she’d grow into a rounder, fuller cup. Now, magically, she had.
Her gaze also captured a man’s warm arm wrapped around her waist. She recognized the chestnut fuzz atop the freckles on his forearm, and the polished boots he wore on his feet.
“Good to touch you again, Paul.” She tilted her head and grinned up into his deep brown eyes. She used her fingers to brush the chestnut hair from his face before he bent and kissed her.
His lips were both exciting and familiar. And clung to hers much too briefly. The so-familiar kiss she hadn’t enjoyed for too many lonely years had matured, too. It was the same, but not the same. Which didn’t make sense, but that was true anyway.
When he pulled away, she ran her tongue across her lips, trying to feel his mouth there still. He was right. She knew him well. Very well. Kissing Paul felt good. Really good. Right. She’d be happy to stay there, just like this, forever. Especially now that he was human again. Because kissing a horse on the lips would not be her idea of a great date. She grinned at the foolish thought.
“Tell me why you appeared to me as a horse there on the road?” she asked, leaning her head back to see into his eyes.
“I didn’t want to startle you. I thought you’d be comforted by your horse, as you once were.” He clasped his hands behind her back at her waist. “You seemed sad. You miss me. And you still feel terribly guilty about the accident.”
He paused to let her brain catch up with her emotions.
She whispered, “And one day, Paul the stallion really did talk to me. Because it was you. I must have imagined you’d transformed yourself into my horse.”
He cocked his head. “Do you remember what you said?”
“I said I wished you were with me and I could talk with you again.”
“Exactly. I could have returned to you sooner, but I didn’t want to frighten you. So I waited until you asked for me.” Paul nodded. “And later, why did you decide that Paul the stallion was too hot to touch?”
She smiled easily at her old childish thinking. “Because I was afraid someone would see me behaving oddly around my horse, and I didn’t want people to think I’d gone completely crazy.”
“Dumb solution, even for a thirteen-year-old. But after you came up with it, you wouldn’t change it. You’ve always been way too stubborn, Becky.” He squeezed her a little to show he wasn’t complaining.
She hugged him close, smelled his beloved scent, and felt his heartbeat against her face. “I’ve missed you so much, Paul. Where have you been all this time? Why didn’t you come to me at Gray Cliffs?”
“Because you never asked me to. Probably because you didn’t know how to get your stallion up there. But you didn’t have to bring him. The power that brings us together has always been yours to command, Becky. If you want me, all you need to do is make it so.” He kissed the top of her head and pushed her away slightly to look in her eyes. “It seems like you keep trying to forget that, and I don’t know why.”
“Me, neither.” She kissed him again and grinned. “So this is where you live now? Such a beautiful place...”
Paul glanced over Becky’s head. He kissed her hair softly and released his hold on her waist. “I wasn’t kidding about being hungry. I’ll bring you something yummy when I come back.”
Before she could stop him, he headed for the banquet table laden with beautifully prepared food and flowers and desserts and china plates stacked two-feet high. Her gaze lingered on him as he grazed.
The music was lively. A few couples were dancing. Everything about this evening was absolutely delightful. She would gladly have stayed here with Paul forever, but she didn’t understand how to make it happen. Her wants flew away with the wind.
Chapter 10
Becky wandered while she waited for Paul to return to her. She found a perfect table under the stars away from the crowds. A few minutes later, he joined her with their food. Becky’s stomach growled when she got a whiff of the delectable creations on the plates. All of Becky’s favorites, as if the master chef had created the meal especially for her.
After Paul put the plates on the table, he sat across from her.
Paul lifted his hand and waved to a tuxedoed waiter who delivered water and a bottle of wine with two glasses.
Becky frowned. “Last time I checked, the legal drinking age was still twenty-one. I’m not quite eighteen yet, Paul, and we’re the same age, so neither are you.”
He shook his head. “Do I look seventeen to you? Because you sure don’t. For that matter, do you even feel seventeen at this moment?”
Becky cocked her head to really look at him this time. He didn’t look like any of the seventeen-year-old boys at school. This Paul was a man. A sexy, gorgeous man.
When she thought of her Paul, he was forever the fun-loving twelve—almost thirteen-year-old he was that last day. She’d never once wondered whether he might be aging after death. The thought had never occurred to her.
And if he were a man, then she would be a woman, too. They were the same age. Always had been. Time travel to yet another time? Had she landed in her future? A future with Paul. Wouldn’t that be great?
“Come on. I’m hungry. For tonight, at least, you are older than you think, Becky, and so am I.” Paul winked at her and lifted his glass a bit higher.
Why not? Becky smiled. “How do you figure?”
“We can talk about that, but our food is getting cold, and I’m officially starving. No one is going to arrest you here. It’s a private party and you’re not driving, right? I mean, I didn’t see a Ferrari or anything back there on the road.”
Becky’s grin widened.
“We can chat while we eat…okay?” He lifted his glass a bit higher and nodded, so she did the same.
“Cheers!” they said simultaneously when they clinked glasses. And then they sipped.
Becky ate ravenously as if she hadn’t eaten in four years. In truth, she hadn’t eaten much at Gray Cliffs.
Paul noticed her empty plate and guffawed. “No more comments about my appetite, okay?”
