Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,74
isn’t like that. There’s got to be something else.”
“How do you know what he’s like now? He’s dead and wanting to get inside me.” Silence filled the air between them, and Gemma flushed realizing what she’d just said. “Won’t he take over my spirit and inhabit my body?”
“I don’t think that is what this is about. Lucky is a special soul. It isn’t in him to be conniving like that.” Tern suddenly looked around. “I need to talk to him. Can he talk to me?”
“I don’t know. You’re the expert.”
“No, I’m not. But I know someone who is.” Tern nailed her with a look that shouted volumes.
Oh, no. “Not my mother again.”
CHAPTER TEN
“You should have come to me before now,” Siri scolded, adjusting her colorful skirts. Today she was garbed in a medieval-style embroidered heliotrope-colored dress with a flaxen-lace kirtle. Where had she bought that? Her red hair was piled on top of her head with long curls intertwining with her purple feathered earrings.
Gemma felt drab in her simple slacks and black sweater. But then she’d always felt drab next to her mother. As a child she’d gone out of her way not to draw attention to herself, which hadn’t been hard as Siri had garnered most of it.
“Siri, what can you tell us about Dreamweavers?” Tern steered the conversation to what they had come for. After depositing their coats, boots, hats, and mittens they were sitting around Siri and Rosie’s living room, which was draped in scarves from India with colorful cushions that weren’t much higher than the floor. A low hand-carved ironwood table squatted in front of them.
Aunt Rosie lowered a tray of tea and poured them each a cup. She was dressed much the way Gemma was in no-nonsense jeans and a sweater. Tern was as colorful as Siri, but classy and fashionable making a statement with her choice of clothing rather than being one.
“We need to see what the cards tell us.” Siri settled a look on Gemma.
“I don’t want my cards read,” Gemma quickly interjected. She’d had enough of having her cards read. Growing up, whenever she was upset or had a problem, Siri always consulted the cards.
“Not yours. His.” Siri’s surprising crystal gaze locked on Tern’s. “Did you bring them?”
“Yes.” Tern opened the big leather bag and laid a charcoal-colored Polartec jacket, a scratched and dented compass, and a picture on the table.
Gemma slowly reached for the picture. “Is this him?” she whispered.
“Yes, when he was in Africa,” Tern said. “Right after he climbed Kilimanjaro.”
Lucky and another man stood together with grins that were big enough to bring one to Gemma’s lips in response. They looked like they had just conquered the world with their hair tossed in the wind, and the skin on their faces red and chapped by the elements.
She knew his face though this was the first she’d laid eyes on an image of Lucky. But she’d drawn her hands over his cheekbones, his strong jaw, kissed that smiling mouth. His soft, warm bedroom eyes were so happy. So alive. An ache spread, enveloping her heart.
“Who’s the other guy?” she asked, trying her best not to trace Lucky’s image with her finger. That would give away too much in front of her mother.
“Hansen. He was a climbing buddy of Lucky’s. He was killed not long after that picture was taken.”
“How?”
“Climbing accident. Lucky had a hard time dealing with his death. I don’t know if he ever came to grips with it.”
“Let’s get started,” Siri said. “The mood is shifting in the room. Rosie, would you please light some frankincense to help clear and calm the air?”
Rosie moved to the old drawer-stacked desk in the corner. It was full of little cubbies that were filled with all kinds of incense, aromatherapy oils, herbs and dried flowers, and little things her mother collected. Rosie pulled out the incense and lit it, resting the stick on a piece of pottery made just for that purpose. A twist of smoke curled upward.
Scents of balsamic and sharp pine with hints of lemon filled the air. Gemma found it strong and offensive, but breathed deep hoping the aroma would calm her.
Siri picked up the deck of Tarot cards and handed them to Gemma to shuffle. She did not want to do this, but one look from Tern had Gemma taking the cards and shuffling them. She gave them back to Siri who spread them out onto the table.
“Pick.” Siri pointed to the perfect fan of colorful cards.