Nora Roberts - The Stars of Mithra - Hidden Star

Bailey grinned, then applauded, then gaped as wildlife died in droves. “You didn’t miss once.” She goggled at him. “Not once.”

Her wide-eyed admiration made him feel like a teenager showing off for the prom queen. “She wants the elephant,” he told the attendant, then laughed when she launched herself into his arms.

“Thank you. You’re wonderful. You’re amazing.”

Since each statement was punctuated by eager kisses, he thought she might like the floppy-eared brown dog, as well. “Want another?”

“Man, you’re killing me here,” the attendant muttered, then sighed as Cade pulled out more bills.

“Want to give it a try?” Cade offered the rifle to Bailey.

“Maybe.” She bit her lip and studied her prey. It had looked simple enough when Cade did it. “All right.”

“Just sight through the little V at the end of the barrel,” he began, stepping behind her to adjust her stance.

“I see it.” She held her breath and pulled the trigger. The little pop had her jolting, but the ducks swam on, and the rabbits continued to hop. “Did I miss?”

“Only by a mile or so.” And he was dead certain the woman had never held a gun in her life. “Try again.”

She tried again, and again. By the time she’d managed to nip a few feathers and ruffle some fur, Cade had put twenty dollars back in the attendant’s grateful hands.

“It looked so easy when you did it.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart, you were getting the hang of it. What’d she win?”

The attendant perused his lowest row of prizes, generally reserved for children under twelve, and came up with a small plastic duck.

“I’ll take it.” Delighted, she tucked it in the pocket of her slacks. “My first trophy.”

With hands linked, they strolled the midway, listening to the screams, the distant music of a bluegrass band, the windy whirl of rides. She loved the lights, the carnival colors, bright as jewels in the balmy night. And the smells of frying oil, of spun sugar and spiced sauces.

It seemed so easy, as if there couldn’t be any trouble in the world—only lights and music and laughter.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been to a country carnival before,” she told him. “But if I have, this one is the best.”

“I still owe you a candlelight dinner.”

She turned her head to smile at him. “I’ll settle for another ride on the Ferris wheel.”

“Sure you’re up to it?”

“I want to go around again. With you.”

She stood in line, flirted with a toddler who kept his head on his father’s shoulder and peeked at her with huge blue eyes. She wondered if she was good with children, if she’d ever had a chance to be. And, laying her head on Cade’s shoulder, dreamed a little.

If this was just a normal night in normal lives, they could be here together like this. His hand would be in hers, just like this, and they wouldn’t have a care in the world. She’d be afraid of nothing. Her life would be as full and rich and bright as a carnival.

What was wrong with pretending it was, and could be, for just one night?

She climbed into the rocking car beside him, snuggled close. And rose into the sky. Beneath, people swarmed across the grass. Teenagers strutted, older couples strolled, children raced. The scents rose up on the wind, an evocative mix she could have breathed in forever.

The downward rush was fast and exciting, making her hair fly out and her stomach race to catch up. Tilting her head upward, she closed her eyes and prepared for the upward swing.

Of course, he kissed her. She’d wanted that, too, that sweet, innocent meeting of lips as they circled over the high summer grass, with the lights around them a rainbow gleam.

They circled again as the first fireworks spewed gold across a black sky.

“It’s beautiful.” She settled her head on his shoulder. “Like jewels tossed in the sea. Emeralds, rubies, sapphires.”

The colors shot upward, fountained and faded on a booming crash. Below, people applauded and whistled, filled the air with noise. Somewhere a baby wailed.

“He’s frightened,” she murmured. “It sounds like gunshots, or thunder.”

“My father used to have an English setter who’d hide under his bed every Fourth.” Cade toyed with her fingers as he watched the show. “Trembled for hours once the fireworks got going.”

“It’s so loud, scary if you don’t know what it is.” A brilliant flash of gold and sparkling diamonds erupted as they topped the wheel in a rush. Her heart began to race, her head to throb. It was the noise, that was all. The noise, and the sickening way the car rocked as the Ferris wheel jerked to a halt to unload passengers.

“Bailey?” He drew her closer, watching her face. She was trembling now, her cheeks white, her eyes dark.

“I’m all right. Just a little queasy.”

“We’ll be off soon. Just a couple more cars.”

“I’m all right.” But the lights flashed again, shattering the sky. And the image rolled into her head like thunder.

“He threw up his hands.” She managed a whisper. She couldn’t see the lights now, the colored diamonds scattered across the sky. The memory blinded her to everything else. “Threw them up to try to grab the knife. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t move. There was only the desk light. Just that one beam of light. They’re like shadows, and they’re screaming, but I can’t. Then the lightning flashed. It’s so bright, just that one instant, so bright the room’s alight with it. And he… Oh, God, his throat. He slashed his throat.”

She turned her face into Cade’s shoulder. “I don’t want to see that. I can’t bear to see that.”

“Let it go. Just hold on to me and let it go. We’re getting off now.” He lifted her out of the car, all but carried her across the grass. She was shuddering as if the air had turned icy, and he could hear sobs choking her. “It can’t hurt you now, Bailey. You’re not alone now.”

He wound his way through the field where cars were parked, swore each time a boom of gunpowder made her jerk. She curled up in the seat, rocking herself for comfort while he skirted the hood and got quickly behind the wheel.

“Cry it out,” he told her, and turned the key. “Scream if you want to. Just don’t let it eat at you like this.”

Because he didn’t make her feel ashamed, she wept a little, then rested her throbbing head against the seat as he drove down the winding road and back toward the city.

“I keep seeing jewels,” she said at length. Her voice was raw, but steady. “Beautiful gemstones. Floods of them. Lapis and opals, malachite and topaz. All different shapes, cut and uncut. I can pick out each one. I know what they are, how they feel in my hand. There’s a long piece of chalcedony, smooth to the touch and sword-shaped. It sits on a desk like a paperweight. And this lovely rutilated quartz with silvery threads running through it like shooting stars. I can see them. They’re so familiar.”

“They make you happy, comfortable.”

“Yes, I think they do. When I think of them, when they drift back into my head, it’s pleasant. Soothing. There’s an elephant. Not this one.” She hugged the plush toy against her for comfort. “Soapstone, carved with a jeweled blanket over its back and bright blue eyes. He’s so regal and foolish.”

She paused a moment, tried to think past the headache pounding in her temples. “There are other stones, all manner of others, but they don’t belong to me. Still, they soothe. It doesn’t frighten me at all to think of them. Even the blue diamond. It’s such a beautiful thing. Such a miracle of nature. It’s amazing, really, that just the right elements, the right minerals, the right pressure and the right amount of time can join together to create something so special.