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attraction towards her? It was
like…magic.
    "She has an extraordinary garden," John
continued, "but it's too much work for one person. So, this year
she'll have you."
    Jacob's skin went clammy.
    "She's agreed to pay you seven dollars an
hour for your labor and will employ you until such time as you pay
off your debt or longer if you agree to it. It's actually a great
opportunity. Her work is known throughout the world. You may get to
see some of it first hand."
    Jacob shifted in his seat. He was trying to
be mature about this, but the truth was he was terrified of the
woman. He was sure she was a witch or something. He wondered if the
night he'd seen her out his window was a hallucination at all.
    "A professor, huh." Jacob searched for the
words. "She seems really… young."
    "You noticed. They say she's brilliant.
Graduated college top of her class at seventeen. I think she's
around thirty now. She moved here about ten years ago. Mostly keeps
to herself."
    "So, what's with the black cloak? It's…
creepy."
    "Yeah, I guess she's a little eccentric. I
mean, I can see why you might think that with the way she dresses
and all. But if she makes you uncomfortable, you should have
thought of that before you broke her window." John's eyebrows
arched and the muscle in his jaw tightened. He pushed his plaid
sleeves up to his elbows and threaded his fingers over his stomach.
"You know, I knew her grandmother. She lived there before Abigail
moved in. She was quite a looker. Even when she got old, really
beautiful." John was staring towards the fireplace, not looking at
anything in particular.
    Jacob searched his brain for something to
say, any excuse to escape having to work for Dr. Silva. But nothing
came to him. It was as if his brain were hiding in a corner of his
head, inaccessible, a blank slate, and no help at all.
    "You start Saturday." He
got up from the chair and turned toward the staircase. "Oh, and
Jacob, you and Katrina will apologize to each other. I'm going to talk with
her right now. This thing between you two has got to stop. You are
part of this family now—that goes for you and that goes for her.
You two have got to start treating each other like family or this
is going to be hell on earth for all of us."
    As John jogged up the stairs, Jacob rose
from the sage green recliner and headed for the bathroom. On his
way, he crossed in front of the large bay window. The world beyond
was disguised as an early spring day but he knew it was as
turbulent as ever. Why hadn't John used this as an excuse to force
him to work in the Launders' flower shop? That Jacob would have
expected, but not this. This smacked of disaster.
    There was definitely something odd, if not
dangerous, about Dr. Abigail Silva. Jacob caught sight of her
across the street, lying upside-down on a rocking chair on her
front porch. Her bare ankles were crossed where her head should
have been and her fingers dangled above the porch floor. At once,
he realized she was looking at him, those blue eyes searching his
face across the distance. And then, as if she had more muscles and
joints than the average human, she planted her hands on the blue
wood of the porch and flipped her feet over her head, landing
easily on the balls of her feet. Jacob watched as she rose to her
full height and leaned over the porch rail. Distance and glass
couldn't mellow her effect and the spice of terror and longing
filled him, a confusing concoction that made his whole body
clench.
    She grinned, like the cat that was about to
eat the canary.

Chapter Eleven
    Moon Tea And
Somali
     
    As agreed, Jacob met with Dr. Silva the
following Saturday to discuss his new responsibilities. He dreaded
the encounter to the point he had to force himself up each of the
inlaid stone steps, his shaking knees betraying his fear as he
knocked tentatively on the heavy wooden door. But the Victorian was
full of surprises. For one, the inside was as warm and cozy as the
outside was cold and foreboding. Dr.