19
AFTER COLIN LEFT to investigate the robbery, Gemma took a shower and put clean sheets on the bed. She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to stay there and wait for him or make her way home.
She wandered about the house, looking at the woodwork and thinking about the furniture they’d bought. She couldn’t help wondering if she’d get to use that furniture. Would she ever live in a house that she liked as much as this one?
She thought about all Colin had told her about Jean and she knew she should feel some sympathy for him. The things Jean had said were hurtful. But then, Gemma was also sure she should feel sorry for Jean.
But she didn’t feel any of what she should. Instead, she was glad of everything that had happened, happy that Colin had broken up with Jean and that he now . . . What? Belonged to Gemma?
It was a ridiculous thought. No one owned anyone else. She’d certainly never before felt that she possessed another person. No, Gemma had always been independent, the master of her own fate, the owner of little except what she carried in her mind.
She sat down on a kitchen stool. The truth was that since her father died, she’d “belonged” to no one.
Suddenly, she remembered that she’d thought that her “deepest wish” was to belong somewhere. And isn’t that what was happening in Edilean? Since the day she’d arrived, she’d been falling into the clutches of the town. It wasn’t just that she’d been meeting people. It was as though she’d been given a key to the very inside of the place.
In the short time she’d been in Edilean she’d seen that there were two sides to the town. There were the “newcomers” as she’d heard them called, and then there were the Fraziers and the McDowells, the Connors, the descendants of the seven founding families.
It was this older group that Gemma was being pulled into. It couldn’t be just because she was staying at the Fraziers. It had to be more than that. What if she’d wanted to stay separate from the family? Or join some of the young women she’d seen in Ellie’s store?
In a way, it was almost as though she’d had no choice in the matter. Almost as if someone had . . . She didn’t want to acknowledge what was going through her mind.
It was as if her wish to belong had come from her heart and had been heard. By what? The Heartwishes Stone?
As she went to the refrigerator, she laughed at the idea. When she saw that the only thing in the fridge was a bottle of champagne, she closed the door and took a set of keys off the wall. The least she could do was get Colin some groceries. She looked at the big truck in the garage and hoped it hadn’t been Frazierized and made into some lurching power beast.
When she backed out the vehicle, she was pleased to find that the truck was standard issue. As she drove, she told herself that the idea that she would be granted a Heartwish was ridiculous.
But then she remembered what Colin had written in his journal.
It works for lady Fraziers too.
What if the Stone granted wishes to women who were going to be a Frazier? she thought. But how could it know that? But then, she thought, if a rock could grant wishes—which it couldn’t—and it read those wishes from a person’s heart—absurd idea!—then of course it could know a person’s future.
Still thinking of all this, Gemma went about the grocery filling her cart. She knew little of what Colin liked to eat, except for, as Jean said, beef, but she could guess. She got one of Ellie’s fat chickens fresh off the rotisserie and put it in the basket.
By the time she got to the back of the store, her cart was nearly full, and all she needed was lunch meat. No one was behind the big glass counter. Instead, standing across from it, his back against the shelves between two aisles, was the oddest-looking man Gemma had ever seen. He was about five foot two, with a big, round head, no discernible neck, and a stout little body. When he turned to look at her, she had to work to keep from gasping. His huge eyes and small mouth made him look like a cross between a gnome and Gollum. His skin was pink and fairly tight, with few wrinkles. He could be forty years old or a hundred and ten; Gemma couldn’t tell which.
Instantly, she knew who he was: the infamous Mr. Lang. And for some reason that she couldn’t define, she liked him. Plain ol’ liked him. She wanted to sit down with him and talk, get to know him.
But she didn’t have to know him to see that right now he was very upset. For as solid as he was, he moved quickly, flitting back and forth from one side to the other, looking down one aisle then another.
Gemma didn’t wait for introductions. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she moved close to him. It was almost as though she wanted to protect him.
“They’ll see me,” he said in a deep, guttural voice that sounded as though it was rarely used.
She didn’t waste time asking who. She looked down the aisle on the left and saw three women dressed as though they’d just come from church. They were in what appeared to be a very serious discussion about a jar of jam. The next aisle contained two women, dressed the same, but studying the label on a can of soup. There was no way Mr. Lang could race past either aisle and not be seen.
Gemma looked back at the little man. He was now lifting one foot after another, looking more desperate for escape with each second.
Gemma’s mind raced. Was there some way she could use her body to conceal him and get him out of the store? If it were winter she could have thrown a coat over him, but she had nothing, saw nothing she could use.
With every second, her protective instinct grew stronger. She had to safeguard him! If she’d had a sword she would have stood in front of him and brandished it.
When she turned back, she saw a young store clerk walking past carrying a huge, empty box that had contained paper towels.
Gemma didn’t give herself time to think but ran the few steps to the young man and grabbed the box. Mr. Lang seemed to have read her mind as he moved to the front of the big glass case. Gemma lifted the box over him and he obligingly sank down and the box rim went flat to the floor.
Seconds later, the five women came to the end of the aisles and they stopped at the sight of the big container in front of the glass case.