was crazy. “Do you always talk to people you don’t know this way?”
“I don’t always do anything.” The woman tightened her grip on Katy’s arm. “I do whatever the situation requires.”
“So, I’m a situation?”
“I think you’re in a situation.”
Katy frowned. “That’s one way to put it.”
Their feet stopped again, this time at Mayme’s insistence. She turned and faced Katy, eyes bright and knowing. “I cannot force you to do anything, Katy, but I do feel compelled to speak when I see a potential problem. Whatever’s wreaking havoc within must come out. If you allow it to stay hidden, it will snuff out your gorgeous light and create roadblocks in your life.”
Katy’s blinking began again, this time battling a fresh wave of tears. Who was this woman? And how did she know so much?
Mayme squeezed her hand. “It doesn’t have to be me, dear. Just choose someone and set your pain free.”
Something snapped in Katy’s chest, loud enough, it seemed, for her to expect another question of concern. But the woman just studied her and waited, a peaceful smile on her face, as a strange, swirling pressure swelled under Katy’s ribs. For a second, fear washed over her, like Mayme’s warning had triggered action, like her light was already about to be snuffed. She pushed the panic back with a wave of deep breaths and looked right into Mayme’s eyes.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay, okay, okay.”
“Good choice.” Mayme patted her arm and then extricated herself and stepped away. “Now I need that coffee.”
Katy’s mouth fell open. This had to be the strangest conversation of her life, and that was coming from the daughter of an ancient Highlander.
“Go find that someone, Katy. Don’t wait. Don’t give the pain any more of your time.”
There were no words. She could only nod, almost smile, barely wave.
Grinning broadly, Mayme pressed her palms together in front of her chest and bowed her head before turning and walking jauntily up the street. Katy watched her, about as shocked as she’d ever been. And here she’d spent her life believing she was an expert when it came to magic.
* * *
* * *
Jane was the obvious choice. That’s what best friends were for, right? Telling secrets, getting support, making each other feel normal? Katy pushed words around in her head, trying to come up with the right combination, as she pulled her phone from her hoodie pocket. Instead of figuring out what to say, though, all she could imagine was Jane’s horrified face, and then her furious face, and then her I’ll-be-on-a-plane-in-ten-minutes face.
Anxiety coated Katy’s skin. Nope, that just would not do. She couldn’t deal with Jane and Gunnar at the same time, in the same town. No freakin’ way.
Maybe it didn’t have to be right now, she told herself. Maybe she should go home and think on it. Her feet took charge like they approved of the idea, and it took her a few seconds to realize they weren’t leading her back to the campground. She looked up, and there they were again, the compassionate window-eyes of the crisis center.
Okay, that was it, she decided. First instincts were the good ones, that’s what everyone said. And though she would never have believed it possible, in the fifteen or so minutes since leaving Mayme, getting advice felt urgent, not optional. She needed to get a hold of whatever terror still rattled around in her body and fix the problem once and for all.
Before she knew it, she was heading toward the building. Her mind rushed to coach her, to soothe her, to remind her Birch was both family and friend, a sounding board as safe as her own mother. She halted. Her mother. The word swelled across her thoughts, a stabbing pain in its wake. What would her mother say if she found out Birch Callahan knew this first? Not even Jane, her dearest friend in all the world, but Birch. No again, she told herself. The list of choices had narrowed to one.
Sighing deeply, she looked around her for a somewhat private place. No telling how many more wandering visitors like Mayme might cross her path if she stayed on the main drag. Spotting the park a few blocks down, she headed for a sunny bench and tugged her phone out of the zippered pocket of her hoodie.
It took her six more deep breaths to dial. The coaching voice returned as the line rang, and it struck her that its wisdom suddenly ruled the day, like her gut