Scent of Magic (16 page)

After Starley had fed Poe, she slipped on her rollerblades and grabbed Larry's leash. The sun had just started to tint the eastern sky. Larry took off up the street away from the house, and Starley skated along behind him. In spite of the crisp morning, this was her favorite time of day. No one around, the town was quiet, no people and very little traffic. Starley did a lot of thinking on her morning outings.

The unmistakable roar of a large truck thundered up the street behind her, and she turned to see what the commotion was. The words
Two Men and a Truck
spread across the length of the white moving van. Starley stopped skating to stare.

The truck pulled up in front of the former Byrd house.

What if the Byrd family decided they didn't like where they had moved to, and were moving back to Prosperity? Starley skated in that direction, and that's when she discovered that the FOR SALE sign now included a SOLD banner.

"Sold is good, right Larry?" Starley asked.

Logically, she hoped, sold meant that the Byrd's had sold their house and weren't moving back to town. Starley skated slowly by and tried not to gawk openly. The driver's side door creaked open, and a man hopped out. Two more male heads appeared from the passenger side.

"Three," Starley murmured. "Come on, Larry. Take me home."

By the time Starley got back to the house, Francesca and Juliette were drinking coffee at the table. Out of breath, Starley yanked off her skates and slid stocking-footed into the kitchen.

"The cards were right," Starley said as she poured herself a tall glass of orange juice.

Francesca sat her coffee cup down and dabbed her lips with a napkin. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"The tarot cards. Three men? Remember?" Starley said. She popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster. "The cards were right."

"Okay, Squirt, breathe," Juliette reminded her. "Relax and tell us what you're talking about."

Starley couldn't stop grinning. She buttered her bread and sat down. She bit off a piece of her toast and chewed slowly, cherishing the moment. For once, she had a secret she couldn't wait to spill, but enjoyed making them squirm in their seats.

"Ahem," Francesca said drumming her fingers on the table. "So, what's the big news?"

Starley shrugged her shoulders and took another bite. "Nothing much."

Jessica slapped her palm on the table. "You can't do this. You can't come zipping into the house like you're about to explode, drop a teaser and then clam up. It's not the Duchesne thing to do."

"Oh, that." Starley took another sip of orange juice.

"Starley," Francesca said in a warning tone.

"Oh, okay. Guess what I saw parked in front of the Byrd's old house?" Starley said.

"Please, God, tell me it wasn't the Byrd's minivan," Juliette grumbled.

"No, she said it had to do with the tarot cards. She did not pull the Chariot card, Juliette. She pulled--" Francesca started.

Again, Juliette slapped her palm on the table hard enough to cause the silverware to jump. "I know what she pulled. I was there, Francesca."

Starley began giggling, small little puffs she tried to hold back. Then she caught the evil eye Francesca gave her. She swallowed the rest of the humor she felt and cleared her throat. "There was a
Two Men and a Truck
moving van in front of the Byrd's old house. The FOR SALE sign said SOLD," she said. She scooted to the front of the chair and tipped it forward. "And, the card connection … three men climbed from the cab."

"Three men?" Juliette's ears perked up, and she leaned forward in her chair, too. "Tell me more."

"Sorry, that's all I have. I was sort of left to fill in the rest of the details on my own. But I'd say the chances are pretty good that the Byrd's sold their house. And three men -- ooh I wonder if their brothers -- have moved in."

Francesca stood and walked to the front of the house. She stared out the front window, tapping her index finger on her lips. Juliette and Starley came out and flanked her.

"Now might be a good time to take up jogging," Francesca said.

"Come on, let's get in the car," Juliette ran to the coat closet and grabbed and armload. "We're going to do something much less obvious, and much more relaxing."

"What's that?" Starley asked.

"We'll drive by. Slowly," Juliette suggested.

"Good idea. I'll grab the binoculars," Francesca said rubbing her hands together.

"Freaks. I live with freaks," Starley muttered. She turned and trudged back to her room.

Francesca put in a Christmas music CD and turned it up a notch as she strung a strand of twinkling lights around the store front window. Juliette walked in and stomped the snow off her feet. She shot Francesca a dirty look.

"What was that look for?" Francesca asked.

"Bah humbug!" Juliette mumbled and went into the back room to take off her coat. She shook her head, swearing that the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas got shorter every year.

"Don't be that way," Francesca said. "You used to love Christmas."

Juliette came out of the back and scowled. "When did I ever love Christmas? That one time when I was four and still believed there really was a Santa Claus? Or the time when I was six and all I wanted was a pony and didn't get one? No, I'm pretty sure you were the Duchesne who loved Christmas."

Francesca made a low growling noise directed at her sister. "I'm not going to let you bring me down today."

"Really? Maybe I need to try harder," Juliette said as she grabbed a strand of lights from the decoration box and started to untangle them. "This sucks. No matter how carefully we put these away every year, they still manage to knot up. I swear it's some sort of conspiracy."

"Yes, because that's what Christmas decorations do, just to spite you," Francesca said.

"Hey, isn't that the rain man?" Juliette said nodding toward the sidewalk.

Francesca's head jerked up and the ladder she stood on almost toppled. Juliette dove to catch her.

"The rain man," Francesca said. She felt her cheeks warm.

"Don't look now, but here he comes," Juliette said.

"And it's not even raining," Francesca said quietly.

"No, but it is beginning to snow. Again," Juliette said.

The bell over the door jingled, and he came inside. He removed his hat and shook off the fresh snow. He extended his hand toward Francesca.

"I don't know if you remember me from the other day," he said.

"Yes, of course. You're the rain man," Francesca said.

She inhaled deeply, something slightly woodsy and extremely masculine. He smelled clean, but she detected something subtle bothering him. An undertone of sadness.

"Only this time, I believe we should call you the snowman."

Juliette rolled her eyes at her sister's lame attempt at flirting. "If you need me, I'll just be in the back room untangling these Christmas lights."

"Sorry, Martin, is it?" Francesca said.

His whole face lit up with a perfect smile. "You remembered. I'm flattered."

"Of course, I remembered," said Francesca. "Visiting family again?"

"It's a bit more permanent than that," Martin said. "Here, let me help you with those lights. My brother swears they conspire over the summer months to come out all messed up."

Francesca laughed. "My sister swears the exact same thing."

"Great minds," Martin said.

"So, you were saying something about your being here a bit more permanent?" Francesca said.

"Oh, yes. My brothers and I just bought a house here to be closer to our parents," he said.

Juliette overheard and walked out of the back room. "You must be the three men who bought the Byrd house. I mean, you do have two brothers, right?"

Martin's eyebrows rose to meet his very dark, wavy hair. "Yes, there are three of us. How did you know that?"

"Small town," Juliette said.

Francesca slid between Martin and Juliette. "How can I help you?"

"I'd like a little something for my mother," Martin said. He stared at the hat in his hand. "She's had a rough time of things lately."

"I'm sorry," Francesca said softly. There it was. The reason for the sadness she smelled. "Let me show you a few things."

Francesca was dying to ask him about a million questions, but she didn't want him to think she led a completely dull life that depended solely on prying into strangers' life. His scent implied something painfully hard. She always hated when the scent of sadness overwhelmed her. The aroma was akin to bony skeletal hands wrapping around her throat, cutting off her ability to breathe deeply.

"Since you're living in the former Pastor's house," Francesca started. She didn't know quite how to ask without just coming right out and saying it. "Are you going to be Prosperity's new pastor?"

"Me? Oh, God, no," Martin scoffed. "Sorry, no offense."

Juliette snorted. "Trust me, none taken."

Francesca picked a pretty pink bottle from the top shelf. She covertly blew the dust away. The perfume had been sitting around for awhile, waiting for the right person to come along and need it.

She handed the crystal container to Martin. "I think your mother might like this one."

"Fine, I'll take it," he told her.

"Great, I'll ring it up for you," Francesca offered.

Martin paid for the perfume and turned to leave. "Thank you, I hope to see you again. I'd like to introduce you to my brothers. We should get together sometime soon."

Juliette's attention was piqued. "Come to dinner."

Francesca's jaw dropped. Juliette never extended invitations to dinner. Especially not to a man she just met. Not to mention the tiny detail that she never cooked anything that didn't involve a microwave or the instructions to please remove outer wrapper before heating.

"Among my sister's many talents, she's a fabulous cook," Juliette added. "Pick a night."

"Well, I--" Martin started.

"Juliette, please. Don't put the poor guy on the spot like this. I'm sure he's a very busy man," Francesca said.

Martin's eyes sparkled with a smile. He raised his hand and said, "So you're rescinding the offer?"

"No!" both girls shouted in unison.

"What day works best for you?" Francesca asked.

"How about Friday night at six?" Juliette blurted.

"Sounds good," Martin said chuckling.

Francesca scrawled their address on a piece of paper and handed it to Martin. "Here's the address."

"Great, it's settled then," Martin said, tucking the bag under his arm. He shook both ladies hands. "See you Friday night."

Juliette wiped her hands on her jeans as the door closed behind Martin. "Heavy energy," she said. "Wonder what the story is there. You think he's a serial killer? Hiding a body in the basement?"

"Great idea inviting him to our house if you think he's a mass murderer." Francesca's mouth twisted to the side. "No, it's not about him. I think it's his mother."

"What about his mother?" Juliette asked.

"I'm not sure yet," she replied. "We'll find out. Dinner? Seriously, Juliette. What were you thinking?"

Living in a small town meant that everyone knew everyone else, and a stranger stuck out like a round, red clown's nose. So, by the time Friday night's dinner rolled around, Starley was completely familiar with Landon Bouvier. The only brother who remained a mystery to all of them was middle brother Romero.

"Starley, you and Rue should come out now," Francesca said as she tapped on Starley's bedroom door. "You girls can't hide in there all night."

Starley pulled open the door a crack. "We're doing homework, Frank."

"It's Friday night, Starley. You never worry about homework until at least Sunday night. Sometimes, not even until Monday morning when you're on the way to school," Francesca reminded her, wedging her foot between the door and frame. "And it would be rude if you didn't come out and eat with us."

"Are they here yet?" Starley asked, stepping back to let her very persistent sister into the room.

Francesca glanced at her watch. "We expect them in about ten minutes."

"Then in about nine minutes, Rue and I will be out," Starley said.

"Don't you want to freshen up a bit?" asked Francesca.

Starley cocked her head. "Seriously? Freshen up? Who does that?"

"Normal people freshen up before dinner," Francesca huffed.

"Frank, you've been sniffing too many fumes. This family is a lot of things; normal is not one of them." Starley put her hands on her sister's shoulders and spun her around. "We'll be out in plenty of time. I promise I won't make you look bad in front of the infamous Brothers Three."

Francesca groaned and stomped from the room. "Juliette, where are you?"

Juliette clomped down the steps. "Here, present and accounted for."

"Don't sound so burdened. This was your idea, remember?" Francesca pointed out.

"How could I forget? You've only been reminding me every second of every day this week."

At exactly six o'clock the doorbell rang.

"We have a doorbell?" Starley asked. "We've been here all this time, and I never knew we had a doorbell. Wow."

Francesca shot her a scathing look that might have been laced with the suggestion that she was lucky they were family. Otherwise, she might be faced with a very bad case of laryngitis by the end of the night.

Juliette, Francesca and Starley stood side by side in the entryway.

Rue stood about three steps behind. "Door's not going to answer itself."

Juliette nudged Francesca forward.

Francesca blew out a series of short breaths to get her anxiety under control. The doorbell rang again, and she reached for the handle to let their guests inside.

A king, a knight and a prince stood on the front stoop. Two with dark hair and one fair-haired. A collective sigh passed through the girls.

"Welcome, please come in," Francesca said. She stood to the side and waved for them to come in. "Starley, take their coats, please?"

Martin stepped forward first; he shrugged out of his coat and gloves and handed them to Starley, who passed them off to Rue.

"Hello, Martin," Francesca greeted him. "These are my sisters. You've already met Juliette, and the coat girl is Starley."

Rue cleared her throat and gave a little wave. "Hi, I'm Rue. Not a sister."

Martin nodded once at each of them. "These are my brothers. The middle one is Romero, and our youngest brother, Landon."

"Romero, Landon, very nice to meet you," Francesca said.

"Are you getting the same connection I'm getting?" Rue whispered to Starley.

Starley frowned at Rue and said, "What are you talking about? What connection?"

Rue elbowed Starley. "Romero and Juliette? I mean what are the odds, right? Coincidence?"

Starley finished hanging the brothers' coats in the closet and stared pointedly at Rue. "You've known my sisters long enough to know that Francesca plans everything, even when she swears she didn't plan a thing. There is no such thing as a coincidence."

"Three French brothers for three French sisters." Rue giggled.