A Chance Encounter (7 page)

“We can use a technique known as Kirlian photography to take pictures of our etheric field. They show the energy coming off our bodies as a luminescent pattern. I have several books on the subject, if you’d care to take a look.”

“Oh, I will—rest assured,” he added quietly. “Go on, you’ve managed to rouse my curiosity.”

Katie smiled, spreading her fingers. “All right, we are all in our own electrical field. When I lay hands on another, whether it’s a human or an animal, there is a meeting and blending of energies.”

“Sparks don’t fly?” he queried, grinning.

Katie laughed like a delighted child, clapping her hands. “In some cases, that actually happens. But most people just feel a magnetic attraction to each other. They can’t see it or touch it, but they perceive it. And what they are perceiving is the field around another individual.” Her eyes glinted with humor. “And in some cases, when this occurs, there is instant love, hate, trust or distrust.” She shrugged. “When you asked me to help you with Joe Collins, and I knelt across from you, I immediately felt protected in your presence, Taylor. You make me feel safe.”

“That’s all?”

She blushed. “What do you feel when you’re around me?” she countered.

Taylor grinned, letting his arms relax and fall to his sides. “That, princess, is a leading question.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” she said, flustered.

That same male smile creased the corners of his sensual mouth as he studied her. “What I feel toward you shouldn’t be put into words. If I were to do that, I’m sure you’d turn red as a beet.”

Nervously, Katie chewed on her lower lip. “Let’s stay off the physical for a few minutes more, okay? I need to explain what happened when I touched Joe Collins.”

Taylor nodded and seated himself on the edge of the desk next to her. “First I have to believe that we all have this electrical field around us—”

“That can be proven with the use of the Kirlian photography.”

“Okay. What’s next, professor?”

Taylor was too close. And too sensual! Heart pounding, Katie moved off of the desk to draw another picture on the board. This time she sketched a prostrate form, with another form kneeling beside it. “This is the part I can’t prove to you. You’ll just have to take my word for it, Taylor. I’m sure that as Kirlian photography is refined over the next few years, we’ll be able to actually see healing take place.”

“Healing? As in faith healing?”

Katie gave him a thoughtful look. Should she go into the specifics? Finally, she bowed to her intuition and threw caution to the wind. “My mother, Ruth, as I just told you, was a nurse. She noticed that when she touched her patients, her hands would become exceedingly warm—even hot. And her patients mentioned this to her, too. But the most interesting result was that after my mother touched a patient—even for a minute or so—he felt better afterward.”

Taylor crossed his arms, scowling. “In what way, Katie?”

“The patients perked up, had more energy and entered a better frame of mind.”

“And you have this same gift?”

“It’s not really a gift. Anyone can do it.”

“I see. So when did you become aware that you had this talent?”

“After many years, my mother decided to find out exactly why her touch affected her patients so positively. That was when she delved into metaphysics and began to investigate various theories. She learned that many Eastern philosophies embrace the theory I’ve just drawn for you on this chalkboard. And when I was nine years old, my mother began to teach me the fundamentals of metaphysics, too.”

“Why?”

“Because whenever I got sick as a child, my mother would lay her hands on me and heal me. I was absolutely fascinated with the idea that the laying on of hands could help others. And so, when I was nine, I laid hands on Tommy, my next door neighbor. We had been playing in an old gravel quarry. Tommy fell off his bike and tore up his knee. He was lying there, the bent and twisted bike wheel pinning his leg. I was distraught. When I tried to move him, he screamed in pain. We were too far away to get help, and we weren’t supposed to be in the quarry anyway. I knelt down and put my hands on his leg. And I concentrated on helping him. My hands got hot. Tommy quit crying, and we just stared at each other because he could feel it, too.”

“Feel what?” Taylor demanded.

“The heat and the other sensations that accompany the healing energy that flow through me,” she explained simply, trying to decide whether Taylor was going to laugh openly, or retain that deadpan expression.

“Show me.”

Without hesitation, Katie placed her hands on his outstretched arm.

Taylor was aware of how lightly her hand touched his flesh. Almost immediately, he became conscious of an intense heat flowing from her hand. And then a decided tingling sensation traveled through his arm and up into his shoulder. His eyes widened momentarily. Katie’s gaze was unwavering and serious.

“You feel it, don’t you?”

His mouth tightened. “It must be because I’m holding my arm out. That’s placing unusual stress on the muscles in the shoulder,” he muttered, breaking contact with Katie.

“It isn’t.”

Taylor rubbed his forearm where the tingling persisted. Katie clapped her hands sharply and then shook them at her sides. “What was that for?” he asked.

“To dispel any energy that lingered on my hands. It’s similar to when a doctor washes his hands after surgery. In a few minutes, when I work on the animals, you’ll see me do it after every healing.”

Taylor remained silent, watching her. Disbelief mingled with shock. “Why didn’t you defend yourself when I challenged you just now?”

Katie lifted her chin. “The truth needs no defense. I am what I am. Nothing more, nothing less. I have no need to prove myself to anyone, Taylor. What’s important is that I know it works. If I can provide relief to those who experience pain and suffering, that’s all that is important to me.”

Taylor was moved by her sincerity. She decidedly was the most complex human being he had ever met! Staring down at her delicate artistic hands, he shook his head.

“I warned you, Taylor,” Katie said softly, “that once it becomes widely known that I can heal, there will be fear and misunderstanding. And the greatest sadness is that since healing works—since it helps alleviate suffering—why should people be frightened of it? It’s fear of the unknown, Taylor. Fear of that which can’t be easily understood. And that fear will put my life under inquisition….”

Grudgingly Taylor admitted that Katie was right. Five people arrived with ailing pets. They sat quietly at the desks. One at a time, Katie called them up with their animal. Taylor sat back, arms crossed over his chest, watching.

The first to stand was a woman near ninety. She carried a scruffy gray cat, which looked to be the same age. Katie’s face broke into a welcoming smile as she took the cat into her arms.

“How’s General this week, Mrs. Beaumont?”

“Just grand, Katie. Why, I’ve even taken him off the kidney medicine.”

Katie sat on the edge of the desk and stroked the gray tomcat. “With Dr. Abram’s permission?”

Mrs. Beaumont nodded, touching the pin that held her black hat at a jaunty angle on her silver hair. “I asked him—just like you told me.” A beatific smile spread over her wrinkled face. “General’s eating now, thanks to you!”

“And to Dr. Abrams,” Katie reminded her, smiling. She held the cat for about a minute before handing him back to his owner. “I think that’s all he needs for now.”

“May I bring him next week?”

“Will you feel up to it, Mrs. Beaumont? I can always walk down the street and visit if it gets to be too much—”

Mrs. Beaumont patted Katie’s hands, now resting in her lap. “Just give me a touch and I’ll make it back,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling.

Katie laughed, placing a hand on Mrs. Beaumont’s arm. “You’ve got some color in your cheeks, Mrs. Beaumont.”

“Thanks to you, young lady. I can remember when I was a child, Dr. William Adams used to ride up on his old mule, Henry. I had a fever, Katie. Only the Lord’s will—through Dr. Adam’s healing touch—kept me alive. We all looked forward to the laying on of his hands, when we were sickly.” She smiled. “Hands like yours. Hot when they touched you. And afterward, that tingling sensation that flowed through your body, making you feel so much better, everywhere….”

Katie turned her head to gauge Taylor’s reaction. His eyes were narrowed to near slits, his mouth pursed into a thin line. He was fighting her then, fighting what and who she was. Well, what did she expect? Returning her attention to Mrs. Beaumont, she squeezed the old woman’s arm, then released her. “You’re in great shape. I’ll see you next week.”

The next visitor was a slender boy of ten, a small cage gripped tightly in his arms.

“Hi, my name’s Katie. What’s yours?” she asked, leaning over and touching the boy’s silky brown hair.

“Brandon Prater, Ms.—” 4

Her smile broadened. “Call me Katie. May I call you Brandon?”

His downcast face brightened slightly. “Sure.” He held out the small cage. “My friends say you can help sick animals?”

Katie gently wrested the cage from Brandon’s small, protective hands. She placed it in her lap. “I try to, Brandon. What have we here? A gerbil? What a pretty color. I’ll bet you have a name for her?”

Brandon’s face took on a look of hope. “Her name’s Suzie.”

Katie studied the gerbil, which looked like a tiny, distended balloon. “Pretty name. What’s wrong with Suzie?”

The boy stuffed his hands into his trousers pockets, shrugging. “Suzie just keeps getting fatter and fatter, Katie. Mom thinks she might have a tumor or something.” His hazel eyes gleamed with tears that he refused to allow to fall. “She’s my friend, Katie. I saved all the money I got from collecting aluminum cans to buy her and her cage. And now…” He took such a deep, adult breath into that slight body.

“Mom thinks Suzie’s dying,” the boy continued. “‘Cause she’s getting so big so fast. And I don’t overfeed her.” His face turned earnest. “They said you could help when no one else could. That’s why I brought Suzie. Please, I love my pet. She sits on my desk every night when I do my schoolwork and keeps me company.”

“I see,” Katie murmured, opening the cage and sliding her fingers beneath the rotund and sluggish Suzie. Picking the gerbil up, she studied it intently. Her blue eyes sparkled with repressed laughter.

“How long ago did you buy Suzie?”

“About two weeks.”

Katie held Suzie in the palm of her hand, so the gerbil was at eye level with Brandon. “And in the pet store was Suzie in a cage with boy as well as girl gerbils?”

Brandon nodded. “Yeah, they had a whole bunch of them together. I picked her because she was the prettiest.”

Katie lifted her chin, meeting Taylor’s gray gaze with a smile. Then she turned back to Brandon. “I don’t think Suzie is sick, after all.”

“No? Honest?”

“Honest. I believe she’s pregnant, honey. No tumors. Just lots of little babies that Suzie’s carrying inside of her. I’ll bet she’ll have them any day now.”

Brandon’s face lit up. “Really? Babies? Suzie isn’t going to die?”

Katie maintained a serious expression, gently depositing the decidedly pregnant Suzie back into the nest of wood chips in the bottom of the cage. “Your mother is in for a shock, but I’m sure it’ll all end happily.” She returned the cage to Brandon who now handled it even more tenderly. The act brought a smile to Katie’s face. “Just make sure Suzie gets lots of greens. Throw in a few dandelions from time to time and you’ll have a bunch of healthy baby gerbils on your hands.”

“Gosh. Thanks, Katie!” Brandon dug furiously in his jeans pocket. Producing three quarters, he held them out to her. “This is all I have, but if you—”

Katie took his hand and closed it around the coins. “There’s no charge for what I do, Brandon. Besides, I didn’t do anything!”

Brandon was crestfallen. “You did plenty. Suzie isn’t going to die. Mom said that if I took the responsibility of buying Suzie, then I should pay all her bills, too.”

Leaning over, Katie placed a kiss on his hair. “Normally, I’d agree with your mother. But all I did was diagnose Suzie’s condition. And even if she did need a healing, I wouldn’t charge, Brandon.”

“Why?”

“Because it wouldn’t be right. That would be like God charging us for breathing the air. Or sending us a bill for the use of gravity. Would that be right?”

Brandon shook his head, perplexed. “No….”

“You can’t put a price on love,” she told him seriously.

Taylor asked the last three people if he could take photographs while Katie treated their animals. All agreed. It took Katie less than half an hour to finish with her ailing charges. Everyone thanked her profusely. Taylor sauntered back toward the sink where Katie was washing her hands.

“My, you look serious, Taylor. Which are you—frightened, defensive or confused?” Her heart leaped as he leaned over without warning and pressed a light kiss on her parted lips.

“None of the above, princess,” he murmured, walking beside her to the front of the classroom. He put his arms around her, marveling at how small she was—and yet how strong and loving. “I’m deeply touched by your ability to help these people and their pets,” he began slowly, searching her upturned face. Dark smudges had begun to show beneath her lovely eyes. The last few days had been hard on her, he realized. Katie didn’t deal with certain types of stress very well. But then, he told himself, if someone were trying to expose him to the world, he’d be stressed, too.

“I wanted to be a veterinarian for a while,” she admitted, disturbingly aware that mere inches separated them. He made her feel feminine, made her long to make love with him. She smiled softly. There was a charisma about Taylor Grant, one that drew her effortlessly to him “What stopped you?” he asked, trailing a finger down the velvet slope of her cheek.

“I couldn’t stand biology.” She flinched slightly. “It was all those experiments. I can’t stand the sight of blood. I—uh, well, I faint.”

“I’d believe that.”

She gave him a dark look.

“Because, princess, you’re overly sensitive to everything.” And then he scowled. “And to everyone.” He thought of the threatening phone call—as he did almost once an hour, whether he wanted to or not.

Katie reached up to rest her hands on his well-muscled arms, aware of their controlled strength. “People like me do tend to be sensitized to everything,” she agreed. “We feel things more intensely, perhaps, than most.”

He cocked his head, studying her guileless face. “I saw the tenderness in your eye when you were working with Brandon.”

“He’s a wonderful little boy,” she said. “So manly. He was trying so hard not to cry—all out of worry over his gerbil. I was touched by it, Taylor.”

“So was I. By both of you.”

Katie tilted her head, her luminous eyes sparkling. “That’s nice to hear. I know you feel things deeply, too, but you rarely allow those feelings to surface. Nor do you share that side of yourself with anyone.”

“It’s you,” he accused, leaning down to taste her lips. “You,” he repeated against their pliant sweetness. “You reach out and touch the world, and you wear your heart on your sleeve.” He molded his mouth against hers, feeling her body against him, graceful as a willow. He claimed her gently, as if she were a priceless, fragile gift. There was melting fire in her returning ardor, and he was aware of her strength. And Taylor could sense that where she was weak, he could be strong for her. An even more disturbing discovery was that Katie could be strong in those areas where he was weak.

Reluctantly, Taylor drew away, his eyes silver with passion. Her lips were full and petulant, begging to be kissed again. And the lilac fragrance mingled with the scent of her warm, willing body, made him almost dizzy with need. “Lord,” he groaned, crushing her against him, “you feel good, taste good….”

Katie smiled languorously, allowing him to hold her. “So do you.” She sighed softly, barely able to think coherently. Her body flamed, her knees felt wobbly and she didn’t trust herself to walk without support. So she simply rested against his hard length, listening to the powerful beat of his heart while she recovered. “Leave it to a Scorpio man to be the world’s greatest kisser.” She sighed with satisfaction.

Taylor laughed softly, nuzzling his face into the silken folds of her hair. “Another generalization about Scorpio males?”

“Well—Scorpio’s a water sign, and Scorpio men can communicate well on the emotional level—if they want to.”

“I like communicating this way.”

“Every Scorpio male does.”

He grinned down at her. “You mean we’re passionate?”

Katie drew slowly away, meeting his taunting smile. “Scorpios have a corner on that particular market,” she warned with a grin.

Taylor shrugged. “It can’t be all that bad, if you enjoyed it.”

“I enjoyed it,” she told him huskily.

Devilry lurked in his gray eyes. “On a scale of one to ten, how did it rate?”

She laughed throatily, leaving his embrace. “Oh, no! I’m not going to be responsible for swelling your head any more than it already is. You and I aren’t children. We know how we affect each other.”

Taylor shot her a playful look. “I think I just got an eleven.”

“You’re impossible!”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

She eyed him, enjoying their renewed intimacy. He had been hurt by a woman, her instincts told her. And he needed to know how deeply he affected her. It would do his wounded ego good to find that not all women were out to destroy his manhood. But Katie kept these thoughts to herself, rewarding him with a dazzling smile.

“Come on,” she said, “I have to relieve Maud. She’ll want to get some dinner. We don’t close till eight tonight. Remember?”

“The only thing I remember is your warm body next to mine, your soft, hungry lips—”

‘Taylor!”

He grinned, watching a flush paint her cheeks fiery pink. “I’m just communicating my emotions.”

“You Scorpios!” she said. “You’re all alike!”

Taylor busied himself at the desk, writing down some notes of what he had seen earlier, while Katie forced herself to go through several boxes of newly arrived books. Deep in thought, he raised his head and watched her. Katie struggled silently with the list in her lap as she sat on the floor, completely surrounded by books. A slight smile crossed Taylor’s mouth. Her brows were drawn together in concentration as she checked the book order, her mouth pouty. Did she realize how delicious she was? And then he laughed to himself. Maybe Katie was right. He had passion on the brain. But it rose in direct response to Katie Riordan, and no other.

Idly he sat back in the creaky chair, enjoying the stolen moment. Since Maud’s departure at five, customer traffic had dropped to a minimum. “Want to take a break?” he asked. “I’ve got some questions for you.”

“Am I glad you asked! I hate doing this detail work!” Smiling, she sprang to her feet and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt.

“You looked in need of rescuing,” Taylor murmured dryly.

“You should hire someone who enjoys detail work.”

“What I need is a Virgo. They’re great at organization,” she muttered.

“What are you, anyway?”

“A Sagittarian.”

“Ah, the centaur. Running around with his bow and arrow.” Taylor nodded sagely, holding her gaze. “That suits you—galloping off half-cocked, tilting at windmills like Don Quixote.”

Katie smiled. “Sagittarian’s like to travel. They like to stay in a state of constant motion. And they love their freedom.”

“Is that why you’re not married?”

The laughter left her face. Sitting down at the desk, she said, “No.”

Clearly he had struck a nerve. But the detective in him demanded to know more. “Why not, Katie? You’re certainly pretty enough. Great sense of humor. Nice body.”

She tried to rally to his gentle teasing and pull herself out of the sudden tailspin of depression. “I was engaged once…quite a while ago. I made a fatal mistake when I was twenty-one.”

“What? Falling in love?”

“No. When I met Wes I neglected to tell him about my healing ability.” She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “I thought nothing of it, but he did.”

“I don’t understand.”

She turned her head, staring at him intently. “This afternoon I watched you closely, Taylor. I saw the outright disbelief on your face. And, yes, I saw your fear, and then your confusion.” She held up her hands. “I’ve met very few people outside the field who can accept what I am and what I do. And when I told Wes about it, he thought I was crazy. He thought I should see a therapist.”