Read Online Heaven and Earth by Nora Roberts - Free Book Online Page B

pockets, when he came back. “Took me a few minutes longer because I couldn’t find my keys. Istill can’t figure out what they were doing in the bathroom sink.”
    “Poltergeist?” she said sweetly and made him laugh.
    “I wish. I just never seem to put anything in the same place twice.” He’d tracked snow through the house. Rather than point it out, Ripley slipped on her vest and scarf.
    He held her coat, made her shake her head when she realized he intended to help her on with it.
    “I can never figure that out. How do you guys figure we get our coats on when you’re not around?”
    “We have no idea.” Amused, he set her cap on her head, then pulled her hair through the back as he’d seen her wear it. “Gloves?”
    She pulled them out of her pocket. “Are you going to put them on for me, too, Daddy?”
    “Sure, honey.” But when he reached out, she slapped his hand away. And was grinning until she saw the welts on his wrist. Guilt churned in her. She didn’t mind hurting someone, when they deserved it.
    But not that way. Never that way.
    Still, what was done could be undone, even if it did mean swallowing pride.
    He saw a change in her expression as she stared at his wrist. “It’s no big deal,” he began and started to pull his cuffs down.
    “It is to me.” She didn’t bother to sigh, but took his wrist again. Her gaze shot up, held his. “This is off my time, off the record. Off everything. Understood?”
    “All right.”
    “What in anger I have harmed, I regret and spin this charm. Heal this hurt caused by me by the power of one times three. As I will, so mote it be.”
    He felt the mild pain, the heat lift away from his skin. The flesh where her fingers lay was now cool, as if they’d drawnthe burns out. There was a jump in his belly, not so much from the physical change as from the change in her eyes.
    He had looked into power before, and knew he looked into it now. It was something he never forgot to respect.
    “Thanks,” he told her.
    “Don’t mention it.” She turned away. “I mean that.”
    When she reached for the doorknob on the kitchen door, his hand, its wrist unmarked, closed over it first. “We don’t know how you open doors either,” he said. “They’re so heavy and complicated.”
    “Funny guy.” When they stepped out, his hand slid under to cup her elbow. The long, baleful look she sent him only brought on a shrug.
    “It’s a little icy. I can’t help it. It’s very difficult to resist early childhood training.”
    She let it go, and didn’t have the heart to jab at him when he walked her around the Rover and opened the passenger door for her.
    It wasn’t much of a drive, but as she directed him she realized she was, indeed, grateful for the lift. Even in the hour she’d been inside, the temperature had dropped. The heater wouldn’t have time to kick in, but at least they were out of the open air—air that seemed cold enough to break.
    “If you’re looking for more firewood, Jack Stubens sells it by the cord,” she told him.
    “Stubens. Can you write that down?” Steering one-handed, he dug in his pocket. “Got any paper?”
    “No.”
    “Try the glove compartment.”
    She opened it, and felt her jaw drop in shock. There were dozens of notes, countless pens, rubber bands, a half-empty bag of pretzels, three flashlights, a hunting knife, and several unidentified objects. She pulled one out that looked to be made up of red twine, various beads, and human hair.
    “What’s this?”
    He glanced over. “Gris-gris. It was a gift. No paper?”
    She stared at him another moment, then put the charm back and pulled out one of the many scribbled notes. “Stubens,” she repeated, scrawling it on the scrap of paper. “Jack, over on Owl Haunt Lane.”
    “Thanks.” He took the paper, stuffed it in his pocket.
    “Turn here. It’s the two-story, wraparound porch.”
    As the police cruiser was in the drive, he could’ve figured it out for himself. Lights