Raven's Rest Page 2

  After I washed my face and took a few deep breaths, the panic attack that had been threatening to seize me abated a little. If Kevin found me, I’d deal with it. I was an adult, and he had no hold over me. I could do whatever I wanted. He couldn’t make me go back with him. Oh, he’d yell and call me names, but nothing he could do would convince me to go back to Rockford. I had no friends who would miss me. All the people I knew were Kevin’s friends. I’d made my decision.

  I dabbed at my face with the washcloth and examined myself in the mirror. I liked what I saw. Okay, I wasn’t model material. Abercrombie & Fitch weren’t going to be banging at my door, beseeching me to pose for their latest ad. But hey, if you were into the gay geek look, I was your guy! Thin, with long brown hair (okay, it could use a trim… and maybe a style) and intelligent-looking hazel eyes and a sense of fashion (geek chic), I was pleased with my features. I truly was.

  Which, for someone who’d been in a verbally abusive relationship for half a decade, was a step in the right direction.

  The trouble with someone constantly telling you that you’re stupid or silly-looking or whatever is that, after a while, you begin to believe it. Or at least I did. Kevin had me convinced that if I ever left him, I’d never find love again. No one else would want me. I was absentminded. My red-framed glasses (admittedly large for my face) made me look like a weird sort of bug. I couldn’t cook worth a damn. (Okay, he might have had a point there.)

  Ah, and I was a lousy lay. Couldn’t forget that one.

  Well, Kevin Alexander, that was the old Michael Cook. The new Michael Cook knew that he was smart, that he was good-looking, and that there were other people out there who could fall in love with him.

  I gripped the edge of the bathroom counter until my knuckles turned white. “Oh please,” I said to a God I wasn’t sure existed, “let me get through this. If you can guide me through two days, I’ll take it from there.” What was it, Monday? Yeah. “Just help me along until Wednesday. After I’ve got a few days under my belt, the fear will ease up enough, and I’ll know I can make it.”

  I couldn’t go back to Kevin with my tail between my legs, begging for forgiveness. I just couldn’t.

  “Bryan.”

  I blinked, certain that I’d heard someone speaking, saying a name. It sounded so close, I glanced over at the shower curtain, sure that someone was lurking behind it. “Hello?” I said aloud. “Anyone here?”

  I walked out of the bathroom, certain that Lonnie had returned and had gotten my name wrong. No one was there. Sure that I’d heard a voice, I even opened the closet and peered in there. No, I was alone in the room. Maybe it was one of the ghosts Lonnie had told me about. I chuckled to myself and went over to the bed.

  Sitting on the edge, I removed my shoes and massaged my feet for a moment. I’d imagined the voice, of course. I was just nervous. It was my first night away from Kevin. Naturally I was going to be jumpy.

  I lay back on the bed, which was wonderfully firm and warm. Would I be able to sleep? I was exhausted, true, but that didn’t always mean I could sleep. Maybe I could find some boring movie on television to help lull me off to dreamland.

  Something cold touched my cheek. It felt like icy fingers brushing my skin. The sensation lasted a mere second, but it was enough to make me jump to my feet, sure that someone was behind me on the bed.

  Of course no one was there.

  Lonnie’s stories of ghosts had fueled my imagination. That was all.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling, however, that I wasn’t alone in the room.

  Chapter TWO

  I SLEPT fitfully, even though an old Thin Man movie did its best to induce sleep. After a morning shower, I decided to take a walk around town and see just where I’d settled myself. It had been too dark when I’d arrived last night to really get an idea of what Banning had to offer, so I donned some jeans, a pastel blue T-shirt, a blue button-down shirt over that, and a canary yellow sweater (I liked layers) and went out for my stroll. I wore my black canvas basketball shoes, the ones Kevin hated, just to spite him. He’d always said they were a stupid purchase. “Only kids and young guys refusing to admit they’re not kids any longer wear those,” he’d said on more than one occasion. Well, you know what, Kevin? Fuck you!

  Lonnie wasn’t at the front desk. Instead there was an older black woman. I assumed this was his mother. She greeted me cordially and called me by name, even though I’d never seen her before. Well, with eleven rooms it probably wasn’t hard to learn each guest’s name. There were several people enjoying coffee and donuts in the solarium. They all seemed to know each other, so I guessed they were all part of the business conference.

  Outside, the weather was chilly but not bad. The air was crisp and the sun was shining. Not bad for Day One of my new life.

  The Raven’s Rest was on the edge of town, so I turned right, intending to stroll down to the main thoroughfare. If I remembered correctly from my drive into town, I had several blocks to walk before getting to Washington Street, but time wasn’t pressing on me.

  I’d done a search on my laptop while watching TV in the admittedly comfortable bed and learned that Banning had a population of 4,300. Not exactly a metropolis. It was located on the Rock River and was in Ogle County. In the old days, the Potawatomi and Winnebago Indian tribes had held this land, and apparently there were still burial mounds to be found in the area. Great. Didn’t they say Indian burial grounds helped spur supernatural activity? I was only about forty miles away from my home in Rockford, which surprised me. It seemed like I’d driven farther than that, but then I’d made lots of stops and hadn’t exactly made a straight journey. I’d driven in circles, trying to decide what to do and where to go.

  And I’d ended up here, in this quaint little town in an inn inspired by a writer of creepy tales. Home now, at least for a while.

  I knew I should be coming to Washington Street soon, and I knew from my arrival that I’d find most of the businesses and shops along there, but I was feeling hungry, so I found a little diner and went inside. The sign outside told me that this was the Coffee Cafe and that everyone was welcome. Encouraging sign. I liked encouraging signs. Another told me they served breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. I envisioned some motherly type as my waitress, who would call me “hon” and dispense worldly wisdom.

  The Coffee Cafe was just what I expected—small and cozy, with tables scattered haphazardly around the room, covered with white-and-red checkered tablecloths. Most of the tables were occupied by farmer types who were probably taking a break from their morning chores to suck down some caffeine before heading back out to the fields. Or maybe they were just townsfolk enjoying some breakfast, and I was romanticizing the farmer thing.

  As I sat down at the closest available table, I noticed a young man sitting near the back counter, strumming a guitar. He was dressed all in black—T-shirt, jeans, socks, and sneakers all the same shade. Even his long hair was black. He was too engrossed in his playing to have noticed my entrance, and the woman behind the counter scowled at him when he continued to strum.

  “Trey! You’ve got a customer!”

  The young man ceased his playing and looked up in surprise. “I guess I do.” Reluctantly he set the guitar against the wall and rose. With a smile on his face, he approached my table. “Sorry about that. I was in another world.” Not a motherly type, but I wasn’t about to complain.

  “A nicer one than this one, from the sound of it.”

  He seemed to like that comment. “Hey, can I get you a menu? Or do you know what you want?”

  What did I want? Well, I never wanted to see Kevin again. I wanted to start living again. Would those things be on this magical menu? “I’ll just have some scrambled eggs, some bacon, toast, and a coffee, if that’s possible.”

  Trey grinned. “Not only possible but probable. I’ll have that out for you in a moment.”

  I’d brought my Samsung tablet along with me, and I fired it up so I could read while I ate. Trey wasn�
�t kidding about my food arriving quickly. I’d barely read a paragraph before he returned with a tray. As he set the plate in front of me, he eyed the tablet. “What are you reading?”

  I was sure I flushed a little with embarrassment. “Um… believe it or not, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I’ve been rereading them.” I wasn’t sure why I was hesitant to reveal that I was reading one of the most popular books ever written. Maybe it was because I’d been a kid when I’d first read them, and now I was an adult who was finding out that he still loved them.

  I shouldn’t have worried. Trey nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah? They’re great, aren’t they? Have you read Philip Pullman? The Dark Materials trilogy?”

  Oh my God, Trey was a reader. Beautiful, and he read. “No,” I said, “but I’ve heard of him. I’ve been planning on getting his books soon.”

  “You should. They’re fantastic.”

  After making sure I had everything I needed, Trey went back to his guitar, although I would have been just as happy if he’d stayed with me while I ate. As it was, I found it hard to concentrate on J. K. Rowling’s words. My gaze kept straying over to the young man with the long black hair. He was slouching in his chair, his dark locks sometimes obscuring those gorgeous eyes (which were pale blue) as he looked down to find the right chord. I got the impression from his starting and stopping that he was composing something, creating a new song right there as I ate. None of the other diners seemed to mind his strumming. Maybe they were used to it.

  I dawdled over my breakfast, and by the time I took my last sip of coffee (which Trey had refilled twice), nearly all of the other tables were empty. Only one guy and I were left, and he was perusing the local newspaper, every now and then sharing remarks with the lady behind the counter. He called her Gloria. She emerged occasionally to clear a table, glaring at Trey as she did so. I gathered busing the tables was his job, and he was neglecting his duties to concentrate on his playing.

  Trey seemed to be adding words to his tune, and he sang as he plucked the strings. His voice was thin and reedy, but it suited the tune. I couldn’t hear all the words, as he was singing quietly, but I caught enough to know it was a love song. A love gone bad. The story of my life. Every now and then I’d catch a line or two.

  “It’s a small town, baby,” Trey sang, “but why’d you have to give me these small-town blues?”

  The woman, Gloria, seemed like she wanted to give him something, namely a smack. She’d been wiping some gunk off a recently vacated table, and she turned to him, hands on her hips. “If the next Bruce Springsteen is quite finished, maybe he could start on that stack of dishes in the back.”

  “Almost done.”

  “I’ll give you almost done. Trey Ramsey, you’re the laziest son of a bitch I’ve ever known. Now get to work.”

  Trey looked up at her with a cheeky smile. “I’m not lazy, I’m inspired. Honestly, I’ve got to get this last verse fixed in my head. Then I’ll get to work.”

  Gloria sighed with exasperation. “Okay, but just make sure everything is ready by the time the lunch crowd gets here.”

  “Sure thing, Ma.”

  So Gloria was his mother. That explained why she was putting up with his procrastination. She went back behind the counter and through a door to the kitchen area. Trey saw that I’d followed their conversation and winked at me.

  “Some people just don’t understand artists,” he said. I gathered from his tone that he was gently mocking himself, as if he didn’t think he deserved the title of artist. I begged to differ.

  “I liked what I heard,” I told him. “It was lovely.”

  “Yeah? You think? I’ve been saving my dough, and when I get a few more songs ready, I’m going to book some studio time and record them.”

  I smiled. “I’d buy it.” Was I flirting? Oh my God, I was flirting!

  But why shouldn’t I flirt? I was single now, after my emancipation from Kevin.

  Trey leaned back in his chair so that it was perched precariously on only the back legs and gave his guitar a few more strums. “Better than the last piece of shit I wrote, anyway. Had a great title, just didn’t come together, if you know what I mean.”

  “What was the title?”

  “The Penis Conversations.” His eyes were twinkling, and his smile was crooked as he waited for my reaction.

  I laughed. I hadn’t done much laughing lately, and the sound almost frightened me. I cut it off and said, “That’s some title.”

  “Yeah, well, the little bugger has a lot to say.” Trey moved the guitar aside so he could look at his own crotch. “Don’t you, you bastard?” He propped the guitar against the wall and settled the chair back down on four legs. “Anyway, it was a song about my last boyfriend and how he fucked me over.” Trey emphasized the last three words, even adding syllables to the word fucked.

  Beautiful. Gay. A musician. And he read. I’d have to stay away from Trey Ramsey or I’d fall in love with him, and falling in love wasn’t on my list of things to do, not for a long time yet.

  His mother returned from the kitchen, looking harried. Still with the rag in her hand that she’d used to mop the tables, she pointed at Trey. “Work,” she said. “Now.”

  Trey winked at me again as he stood up. Turning to his mother, he presented an attitude of mock obeisance. “I’m all yours, milady.”

  “Well, milady requests that you wash those dishes and help her get lunch ready.”

  “When are you going to hire another slave?” he asked as he reluctantly made his way back to the kitchen area.

  “When I can find someone fool enough to work here,” she replied.

  I found myself raising my hand as if I was a kid in a classroom. “I’ll take a job, if you’re serious.”

  Both Gloria and Trey turned to stare at me. “You’re joking, right?” Gloria asked.

  “Not really. I could use a job.”

  It was true. I had some savings, but extra cash could come in handy. Plus, I didn’t know how long I could stay at the Raven’s Rest. I’d have to start searching for a place to live if I was going to make Banning my home.

  Gloria Ramsey broke into a smile. “When can you start, and what’s your name, you angel?”

  Chapter THREE

  BY LUNCHTIME I was feeling pretty good about this new life. I was now employed—on a part-time basis—and now that I’d seen it in the light of day, I decided I liked the town of Banning. Granted, there wasn’t a lot to it. It boasted only three fast-food chains, which was probably a good thing, but there were several little mom-and-pop places to make up the difference. Mainly pizza joints. Apparently Banning liked its pizza.

  The county courthouse, which was on the main drag of Washington, was quaint and lovely. A sign informed me that, every weekend during the summer, there was a farmer’s market on the sidewalks surrounding the building. In my wanderings I counted five bars, although there could have been some I missed, an ice cream shop, two hair stylists, and three car repair shops. Banning had three gas stations, two drug stores, and only one supermarket. The town also had one of the biggest liquor stores I’d ever seen. It wasn’t hard to guess what the main source of entertainment was in town: drinking yourself into a stupor.

  I found a bank and opened an account there, although I kept a little bit of money in my old account. I didn’t know why. Maybe part of me still wasn’t sure I wouldn’t be returning to Rockford.

  I chose the town’s McDonald’s for lunch, although I wasn’t a fan of their food. To me, everything there tasted the same, but I was craving a burger, and I figured it was a safe bet. At least I knew what I’d be getting. As I ate, I recalled filling out my employment papers as I sat staring off into space. When it came to putting down my address, I’d hesitated.

  Gloria Ramsey had been sitting with me, and she saw my discomfort. Patting my hand, she said, “Just put your old address down for now. Until you find somewhere new. Or list the Raven’s Rest as your residence. It doesn’t really matter to me. Honey, you’
ve got the job anyway!”

  In the end I’d put down the Raven’s Rest, unable to acknowledge my previous residence with Kevin.

  I’d offered to start immediately, but Gloria insisted I wait until Friday. “Take a few days to settle in. Then come in bright and early Friday morning, and I’ll have Trey show you the ropes.” She’d then rolled her eyes heavenward. “Although, truth be told, you probably should show them to him.”

  The thought of working alongside the beautiful Trey, I had to admit, was a pleasing one.

  I’d finished my burger and was slowly making my way through the rest of the fries. The restaurant wasn’t terribly busy, as it was nearing two o’clock. The employees outnumbered the customers two to one, and they were enjoying their downtime by joking while doing the minimum of chores.

  The pretty girl manning the cash register was flirting with one of the boys, batting her eyes at him whenever she had the opportunity and blushing when he teased her. I half listened to their banter as I wondered what I was going to do with the rest of my day. In just a few hours I’d pretty much seen the entire town of Banning. I could always take my car and check out some of the neighboring towns and see what they had in store for me, or I could lounge around my room at the Raven’s Rest, watching a movie or reading.

  J. K. Rowling won out. Reading it was.

  Just as I was slurping up the last of my Coke, I heard the counter girl say, “Oh my. Here comes Miss Crazy.”

  I followed her gaze and saw a woman coming up to the side entrance. She was middle-aged, with red hair streaked with gray. To me she looked sane enough, although she was wearing a big, bulky Christmas sweater with reindeer on it and it was only late October. Once she was inside, I also saw she had big hoop earrings and a button pinned to her sweater, a white one with black letters. The words read “The Town Witch.” With a vacant expression on her face, she approached the counter and gave her order. I smiled as I watched the counter girl. She carried out the transaction carefully, as if she was afraid a sudden movement might make the redheaded woman explode.