A Little Magic(60)

Hadn’t she booked her stay in a licensed bed-and-breakfast for each night that she’d be traveling? Confirmed reservations ensured there would be no inconvenience and no surprises at the end of each day’s journey.

Hadn’t she precisely mapped out her route and each point of interest, how long she intended to stay studying each?

She hadn’t anticipated getting lost. No one did. The weather report had indicated some rain, but this was Ireland, after all. It had not indicated a wild, windy, wicked thunderstorm that shook her little car like a pair of dice in a cup and turned the long, lovely summer twilight into raging dark.

Still, it was all right. It was perfectly all right. She was just a bit behind schedule, and it was partly her own fault. She’d lingered a bit longer than she intended at Powerscourt Demesne on her way south. And a bit longer again at the churchyard she’d come across when she headed west.

She was certainly still in County Wicklow, certainly somewhere in Avondale Forest, and the guidebook had stated that the population through the forested land was thin, the villages few and far between.

She had expected to find it charming and atmospheric, a delightful drive on her way to her night’s stay in Enniscorthy, a destination she’d been scheduled to reach by seven-thirty. She tipped up her arm, risked a quick glance at her watch, and winced when she saw she was already a full hour late.

Doesn’t matter. Surely they wouldn’t lock the doors on her. The Irish were known for their hospitality. She intended to put that to the test as soon as she came across a town, a village, or even a single cottage. Once she did, she’d get her bearings again.

But for now…

She stopped dead in the road, realizing she hadn’t even seen another car for over an hour. Her purse, as ruthlessly organized as her life, sat on the seat beside her. She took out the cell phone she’d rented, turned it on.

And swore softly when the readout told her, as it had since she’d driven into the forest far enough to realize she was lost, that she had no signal.

“Why don’t I have a signal?” She nearly rapped the phone against the steering wheel in frustration. But that would have been foolish. “What is the point of renting mobile phones to tourists if they’re not going to be able to use them?”

She put the phone away, took a deep breath. To calm herself, she closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and allowed herself two minutes of rest.

The rain lashed the windows like whips, the wind continued its feral howl. At jolting intervals the thick darkness was split by yet another lance of blue-edged lightning. But Kayleen sat quietly, her dark hair still tidy in its band, her hands folded in her lap.

Her mouth, full and shapely, gradually relaxed its tight line. When she opened her eyes, blue as the lightning that ripped the sky, they were calm again.

She rolled her shoulders, took one last cleansing breath, then eased the car forward.

As she did, she heard someone—something—whisper her name.

Kayleen.

Instinctively, she glanced to the side, out the rain-spattered window, into the gloom. And there, for an instant, she saw a shadow take shape, the shape of a man. Eyes, green as glass, glittered.

She hit the brakes, jerking forward as the car slid in the mud. Her heart raced, her fingers shook.

Have you dreamed of me? Will you?

Fighting fear, she quickly lowered the window, leaned out into the driving rain. “Please. Can you help me? I seem to be lost.”

But there was no one there. No one who would—could—have said, so low and sad, So am I.

Of course there was no one. With one icy finger she jabbed the button to send the window back up. Just her imagination, just fatigue playing tricks. There was no man standing in the forest in a storm. No man who knew her name.

It was just the sort of foolishness her mother would have dreamed up. The woman lost in the enchanted forest, in a dramatic storm, and the handsome man, most likely a prince under a spell, who rescued her.

Well, Kayleen Brennan could rescue herself, thank you very much. And there were no spellbound princes, only shadows in the rain.

But her heart rapped like a fist against her ribs. With her breath coming fast, she hit the gas again. She would get off of this damned road, and she would get to where she intended to be.

When she got there, she would drink an entire pot of tea while sitting neck-deep in a hot bath. And all of this…inconvenience would be behind her.

She tried to laugh it off, tried to distract herself by mentally composing a letter home to her mother, who would have enjoyed every moment of the experience.

An adventure, she would say. Kayleen! You finally had an adventure!

“Well, I don’t want a damn adventure. I want a hot bath. I want a roof over my head and a civilized meal.” She was getting worked up again, and this time she couldn’t seem to stop. “Won’t somebody please help me get where I’m supposed to be!”