CHAPTER FORTY

A thick fog seeped into town, and Tillie feared she would get completely lost. She headed down the hill, thinking she'd gone uphill for most of the way, and when the material of the road turned from tarmac to cobblestone, she let go of a little breath. At least she was in the right area. She followed narrow sidewalks along the fronts of shops, mostly closed. A man in a red coat stood out across the street, and she thought she recognized a shop window she'd passed earlier.

But the road dead-ended against a wall, and she turned around, walked down the other side of the street, stopping when she got to what she thought was the high road, and then headed—

Instead of winging it, she opened the map on her phone, centered herself, and looked for the Green King. Two blocks over. She crossed back across the narrow street and followed the line to her hotel.

A ghostly shape emerged from the fog, and Tillie saw a cat with thick striped fur and a long tail. It mewed at her, and she bent to pet him, but he ran toward an alley. "I was only going to be nice to you," she said. He paused and looked over his shoulder, then disappeared into a hole she couldn't see.

In one of the stories Tillie had loved as a child, she would have followed the cat and discovered a mystery, but at the moment, real life had mysteries enough without adding another.

As she straightened, a shimmer of gold paint on a window caught her eye. Words were painted on the window in an understated gold script. Rosemary's Chocolates. A painted cat, looking serene and clever, sat beside the words.

Tillie felt dizzy. "That cat," she said aloud, and touched it on the glass. Blue eyes and tan fur and a long, striped tail.

In the distance, she heard someone call, "Rosemary! Where are you?"

She switched apps and shot a photo of the cat. This is the cat I keep painting , she texted to Liam.

A sharp pain arrowed through her temple, and she shook her head. Get back to the hotel, have a drink of water, maybe a little nap.

As she came around the corner, a figure appeared out of the gloom. A tall, fit man with shining hair. He smiled as he saw her, and Tillie couldn't help launching herself in his direction, flinging her arms around his neck, feeling the dampness of his jacket, the drips of water from his hair, his solid, safe self.

"Oh my God, I'm glad to see you," she said against his shoulder. His arms were tight around her waist, and then he was kissing her, and whatever might have been wrong with the world was okay.

Her room was at the top of the hotel, a small suite with a gigantic claw-foot tub and windows that overlooked the now very rainy street.

She drew Liam down to the sofa under the window. "Let's call for some tea, and you can tell me everything." She realized that he wore only a coat over street clothes. "Where are your things?"

"I dropped them off with my aunt." He picked up the phone and ordered tea for two, then sat down with her. "She wants me to bring you back for dinner."

It seemed such a normalcy in the middle of the strangeness of everything that had been happening. She felt a little awkward sitting with him there. She couldn't quite figure out what to do with her hands, or her eyes. It seemed that a lot had happened, and all of it was strange, and suddenly, she was glad to have something to do that was so very normal—go to dinner at her boyfriend's family's house. Family, period. "I didn't bring many clothes, but that sounds great."

"Good." The tea arrived, and Tillie let in the woman from the front desk. She settled the tray on the coffee table, shooting a glance toward Liam. "Aren't you that meditation guy?"

"Guilty," he said, and held out a hand. "Liam Redfern. You are?"

"Tammy O'Malley," she said, her cheeks going pink. "Nice to meet you. I really like your app. I listen to it every day."

"I'm glad you like it," he said, and Tillie loved the way he turned his entire focus on the young woman, his hands loosely laced between his knees.

"Well. Anyway. Enjoy your tea."

"Thank you," Tillie said.

"Tammy," Liam called, pulling a pad of paper off the table to scribble an email. "Take this, and send me a note, and I'll see that you get a copy of one of the books, yeah?"

"Oh, wow. Thank you, Mr. Redfern."

She slipped out, alight with pleasure. Liam said, as if apologizing, "It's not always girls, I promise."

"Even if it was, I wouldn't mind. They're allowed to be a little dazzled by a famous, beautiful teacher."

"Beautiful?" he echoed.

"You know you are," she returned, and poured tea. "I bet this will actually be decent."

"No doubt."

When they both held a cup in their hands, Tillie said, "Can we talk about how weird this is? It's kind of freaking me out. Like, we just met by accident at that gallery, and then we have this wild connection. Then we split up but we just happen to land in the same tiny little town on the Devon coast?" She shook her head. "It's really creepy in a way."

"Well, but let's think about it." He raised a finger. "The gallery thing was timing, right? You were there to see Jon's work, and I was in the hotel across the street. That happens." He paused. "Actually, I saw you from my window. You helped an old woman who fell. Do you remember?"

"Yeah." She half smiled. "I gave her my umbrella."

He curled his palm around her knee. "People are not often kind, especially in bad weather. When I saw you run into the gallery, I decided to come meet you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Really? So you were stalking me."

"I was intrigued."

"She gave me a crystal, the old woman." Tillie hopped up and scrambled in her purse and brought it back to the bed, dropping it in his hand. "Maybe it was a magical talisman."

It was red and pink, with black weaving through it, and it had weight. Warmth. He closed his fingers around it and looked at her. "Maybe it is. Maybe it brought me to you. Maybe it brought you here to find out what happened to you."

"Maybe. I don't really believe in magic."

"You've said that before. But your paintings are all about magic, about looking through the current illusion to the reality that lies beyond."

"That's true." She frowned. "But why bother with a pair of lovers when there is so much wrong in the world? I mean, if magic is that powerful, why not fix the really big stuff, like making sure all children are in safe, loving homes, and wives don't get murdered by their husbands?"

A lock of her dark hair trailed around her long neck, and he reached for it to buy space to feel where this was going. "So as long as there is bad in the world, there can be no good?" he asked gently.

"No." Her eyes looked very bright. "No, that's not what I meant. Just ... if magic is aligning things, or the Big Spirit in the Sky is answering somebody's prayer, why wouldn't it be something important?"

He took her hand. "What if we met so that we can heal each other and make each other better, and then we go on together to make the world better all around us? Maybe not the whole world, not every child fed or stopping all the evil that exists, but what if we make life better sometimes for some people because we are together?" He kissed her fingertips. "What about that?"

She stared at him, tears running down her face. "Where did you come from?" she whispered.

"I reckon it was a magic spell."

"I'm falling in love with you," she said. "I mean, for real."

"Me, too. But you already know that."

She realized that it had the weight of something she could trust. "Maybe." She sipped the sweet, hot tea. "Tell me what happened with Krish. Did you fire him?"

"I did. We don't have to talk about that now, though. Let's focus on you and what you're trying to find."

"But I don't even know what that is, and you've spent a lot of time helping me. Give me a chance to be present for you."

"Fair enough." He paused. "I fired him."

"What will that mean for your business?"

A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. "I dunno. He's been the linchpin, honestly." He brushed grains of sugar from his fingers. "I've been thinking about it for a bit, but he really crossed a line a few days ago, and he's been manipulating me in other ways, too. I owed him a lot, but ... I think that debt is paid now."

"Who will do the work he was doing?"

"There's a woman who's been with us a long time, almost since the start. Yolanda. I reckon she can do the job, and she'd welcome it." He paused. "But I might be ready to change this business model, anyway. The travel is too much. I don't want to live my life on the road."

"I can understand that."

"Anyway, that's catching you up. Let's not talk about anything work related for tonight. Did you find anything interesting today?"

"Not really. I had a ripple of something at the ford, but it was brief. I was hoping to find something substantial, but I haven't yet."

"Something in particular?"

"Maybe the house in the painting. A forest ... but there's no forest around here that I have seen."

"Clare, my aunt, has lived here most of her life. She'd probably know where it was. I do know they've done some clearing and building."

She nodded, a whisper of yearning running over her nerves. She wanted to tell her mother about him, about this strange quest she found herself on. She wanted the spell of strangeness to be broken.

Or did she? What if when she found the answers, the spell around Liam was broken, too? What if the quest left her even more alone than she'd been before?