It was actually a beautiful day. Here in Jerome it was almost ten degrees warmer than Flagstaff, the temperatures in the upper 60s, puffy clouds scudding by. The trees were still bare, but some of them had the faintest mist of green along their branches, evidence of buds that would begin to pop any day now. And I could see down into the valley, watch the clouds trace their way over the hills and the river bottom, moving fast. My eyes seemed to be pulled northward, past the red rocks of Sedona, over the mesa….
Don’t do it, I told myself. Just look someplace else. Anyplace else.
But somehow my gaze felt inexorably drawn to those brooding mountaintops in Flagstaff. We hadn’t hiked all the way up to the top of Mt. Humphreys, since there was still too much snow for it to be safe for a beginner like me. However, Connor had promised we’d go in the late spring, saying that when you were standing up there, it felt as if you could see the whole world.
This time the pain came as a sudden knifing ache deep in my chest, as if someone had just buried a blade there. I let out a little gasp, felt the sting of tears in my eyes. Goddess, would this ever get better? Or was I destined to feel Connor’s absence like a raw, gaping wound for the rest of my life?
I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if anyone knew. This wasn’t an ordinary breakup — or separation, if you wanted to use Sydney’s more hopeful terminology. A prima and her consort were only supposed to be separated by death, and nothing else. I had never heard of a bonded couple like us simply…breaking up.
A shadow fell across the path, and I tore my gaze away from the faraway peaks in Flagstaff, seeing probably the last person I would have expected approaching the house.
Margot Emory.
I blinked a few times, hoping it would be enough to dispel the tears that had begun to gather. No way did I want Margot Emory catching me in a moment of weakness, however well-deserved.
She paused at the bottom of the steps and looked up at me. Her hair, dark enough for a Wilcox, was pulled back into a silvery barrette at the base of her neck, and even though the morning light was merciless, I couldn’t see any lines in her pale, smooth skin. As usual, she looked perfect, minimal makeup flawless, not a hair out of place. No wonder Lucas Wilcox had been so interested in her.
But my own love life was complicated enough without worrying about Lucas’ romantic woes at the same time. “Hi, Margot,” I said, praying that I would sound reasonably normal and not clotty with choked-back tears.
“Good morning, Angela,” she replied. Her voice was brisk and cool, just as I remembered it. “So your friend is gone?”
“Yes. She couldn’t take any more time off work.” I sat up a little straighter, setting my palms down against the sun-warmed wood of the porch. “What, were you just waiting for her to leave so you could come talk to me?”
A flash of irritation crossed Margot’s face. “I did think it better if I could speak to you alone.”
Great. So this definitely wasn’t a social call. Sighing, I got to my feet and said, “Then I guess we’d better go inside.”
“If you wish.”
I most certainly did wish. I wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to talk to me about, but I guessed it probably wasn’t the sort of thing I really wanted my neighbors overhearing. Especially since my cousin Adam’s parents lived just a few doors down and often walked their dog right past my house.
So I led Margot inside. For a second or two I was tempted to take her into the dining room, make her sit in that formal room to speak her piece, but I decided that wasn’t very polite. Instead, I took her back to what had been the sitting room and now was the family room, with its comfortable leather couch and matching arm chairs, and small fireplace. It wasn’t really cold enough today for a fire, though, so I left that alone.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked, knowing it was probably best if I followed the forms, even if my heart wasn’t in it. “Coffee? Tea? Water?”
“Nothing, thank you,” she replied as she sat down in one of the chairs.
Figuring I might as well get this over with, I plopped down on the couch and crossed my arms. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”
Anyone else might have looked surprised at my lack of ceremony, but Margot merely tilted her head slightly and said, “I wanted to know if you were ready to be our prima now. Or do you plan to hide in this house indefinitely and only speak to your civilian friend?”
Anger flashed through me. That was fine, though. I preferred anger to the sadness that seemed to lurk behind every thought, every memory, just waiting to pounce. I snapped, “Well, I don’t know, Margot. I thought the clan got along just fine the three months I was up in Flagstaff, so I figured a day or two more while I tried to get my head straight would be all right.”