“Oh, Elsie refuses to get up before seven in the morning. Says she’s retired and deserves to sleep in now,” Beatrice said unhappily. “She’ll probably drop by later.”
“Did you set all this up yourself?” Jared asked with a frown. Beatrice was spry, but it didn’t seem right that she had unloaded the van behind her alone.
Beatrice chortled merrily. “I might be old, young man, but I can handle a few boxes. I only bring my crystals out here on the weekends to help people.”
Jared eyed the table. “The table is too heavy,” he told her politely.
“George always helps me with my table. He’s such a gentleman. He sells produce here every weekend.”
Jared shot her conspiratorial smile as he asked, “Have you gotten yourself a beau, Beatrice?” He put a dramatic hand on his chest. “You’ll break my heart.”
The silver-haired woman shook her finger at him. “Save your flattery for someone who believes it, young man. Remember, I can read your aura.” She raised her eyebrow at him knowingly.
“Then you know I’m telling you the truth,” Jared replied, deadpan.
Beatrice considered herself the town mystic and psychic. She was also the unofficial Amesport matchmaker, apparently able to foresee matches before they happened. And . . . she could supposedly read auras. She’d told him more than once that he had a complex, mixed aura—whatever the hell that meant. Sure, Beatrice was different, and some people might find her peculiar, but she was adored by most of the people in Amesport because she was quirky but sweet, and Jared had liked her almost immediately. She and Elsie were completely harmless. Both of the women meant well, no matter how interfering or gossipy the ladies might be.
“You aren’t telling me the truth,” Beatrice argued, tilting her head first one way and then the other as she looked at him. “But something is changing with you.” She continued to observe him pensively.
“What?” He was starting to squirm beneath the woman’s intense scrutiny, feeling downright uncomfortable. Not that he really thought Beatrice could see into his inner thoughts, but damned if she didn’t have the mystical look thing down pat.
Beatrice rifled through the stones on the table, finally lifting a dark, polished object. “You could use this one.” She held out the long rock attached to a key chain. “Carry it with you. It can help you with your guilt and your grief. You have to get rid of your emotional blocks before you can be happy again,” Beatrice informed him in a warning voice.
Instinctively, Jared reached out and took the key chain. He wasn’t about to argue. Things were getting a little too weird for him. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out several bills.
“No, no!” Beatrice exclaimed. “The crystal is a healing gift. I don’t want your money,” she insisted.
Startled, he looked at the elderly woman’s distressed expression and put the bills back in his pocket. “You’re running a business, Beatrice. You can’t give things away.” Honestly, he was touched, even though the conversation was a bit eerie. Other than his siblings, no one had ever given him a gift. Although, he had to admit, this one did make him a bit uneasy. He certainly didn’t believe in her hocus-pocus, but there was something about the way she continued to give him her fixed stare that made him want to fidget like a naughty schoolboy.
It’s just a coincidence. She doesn’t really know what happened.
“I don’t need the money, Jared. My late husband was filthy rich in addition to being a stud. I’m loaded.” She gave him a sly wink.
Jared chuckled, more amused than he wanted to admit. “You’re still a businesswoman,” he reminded her.
“And a very good one . . . most of the time. I only give gifts in special cases. You and Mara are both special.” Beatrice went back to arranging her jewelry casually.
“You’re trying to help Mara, too?” Jared asked curiously.
Beatrice nodded. “Of course. Both of you. You were meant for each other.”
Jared shook his head adamantly. Beatrice was matchmaking, and it was terrifying the hell out of him. “I’m not meant for anybody,” he told her flatly.
“Oh yes, you are. You two were incredibly easy to predict. My spirit guide channeled the information to me quite loudly and clearly. Maybe you aren’t ready to believe it yet, but you will,” she told him mysteriously.
“Um . . . okay,” he said awkwardly, putting the key chain in his pocket. He’d let Beatrice have her delusions. She’d be disappointed when she found out she was wrong, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. Frankly, she was too damn frightening sometimes. Fact was, he actually did want to fuck Mara. But out of all the women in this town, how did Beatrice know exactly who he was obsessed with having in his bed?
Coincidence.
Yeah, it was definitely a lucky guess.
“She’s in one of the booths behind me,” Beatrice informed him casually, waving her thumb to the back of her.
“Thanks,” Jared mumbled, more than a little disconcerted. “I hope you have a prosperous day.”
“The same to you,” Beatrice answered, looking up at him with a knowing smile.
He hurried away from the elderly woman to go find Mara, sticking his hand in his pocket to rub the smooth stone unconsciously.
It’s just a damn rock. And Beatrice probably saw me talking with Mara at her store. She absolutely is not a psychic.
Nevertheless, he clutched the stone in his fingers as he searched out Mara, wishing the rock could actually solve some of his problems as Beatrice had promised.