Free Together Again: Spirit Travel Novel - Book #4 (Romance & Humor - The Vicarage Bench Series) by Mimi Barbour Page A

is .” Her voicestrongly emphasised the last word.
    He filtered through his senses systematically. And was forced to accept one thing. She was telling the truth. A magic rose bush? “Holy cow!”
    “According to my uncle’s notes, if I understood them correctly, and I think I did, I read them twice and—”
    “Dani…”
    “Right! He’ll have my body near his rose bush—the one I pricked my finger on, at precisely twelve noon each Saturday until the changeover occurs to get me back there. He’ll prick my finger in hopes that you will also prick yours at the same time. He knows I’m aware of the magic and how it works, because he’ll know I read all his notes about a similar case he investigated last year. I accidentally knocked them off his table, the notes that is, and probably didn’t get them back in their correct order. It’s what started this whole thing.”
    “And you’re sure it’ll happen?”
    “No. But it’s what I gathered from going through his papers, and it worked for two other women who had the same experience.”
    “Great! Tomorrow! We’ll be there early.”
    ****
    He had hurt her feelings.
    She shut herself off, hiding away so he couldn’t feel the devastating ache that clutched at her and made her gasp. Tears, a physical reaction to release overwhelming pain, weren’t available to her. Emotions too advanced for a young girl tore away rose-coloured glasses, wounding, maturing. Her almost seventeen-year-old psyche had started connecting to him in a way that confused her. Every moment she’d shared his life, little bits of her soul had shifted to him until there wasn’t much left he didn’t own.
    She’d seen the flirty invitations in the eyes of other women, the smiles in response to his winking. Awareness of his good-looking exterior satisfied her superficial shallowness. The triviality of that upset her, but only a little.
    His loving nature, the person inside, had watered the seeds of affection she’d begun to feel. And his gentleness had nurtured those sentiments into a full-blown infatuation.
    The fact that their time together was limited and becoming shorter with every passing moment obviously bothered him not at all.
    It was a blow to realize that. While she suffered at the thought of leaving him, her imminent vacating of the premises pleased him—the simple-minded jerk. For her, the looming separation tore at her heartstrings, leaving it wide open, exposing a ghastly emptiness that terrified.
    His chuckle caught her attention.
    The blonde bartender, in her too-tight, too-low, peasant-styled blouse, had leaned over the counter, providing an eyeful to anyone who watched. Jiggles of flesh accompanied each movement, dragging the eyes exactly where she intended for them to go. Fluttering her overly made-up, gooey-blues at Troy and studiously wiping the wet surface, she pointed her red-tipped finger at the empty mug in front of him. Troy, no different from every other male in the vicinity, tore his gaze from the public display of her bosoms, lifted it to her face, then grinned and nodded.
    “You fancy her?” The words poured from Dani before she could close off the spout.
    “What’s wrong with her? She’s very attractive.”
    “Don’t be daft! She’s a mite too sluttish for my liking, she is.”
    “What’s with the strong accent all of a sudden?”
    “You caught me unaware. I wasn’t paying attention for a few minutes, and you go and get into…oh, never mind.”
    “I go and get into what?”
    “Mischief! That’s what! Does every woman you meet give you the green light, encourage you, fawn over you?”
    “Pretty much. I like women. Nothing wrong with that. You’re a woman. Don’t you think I should respond positively to the overtures of friendship these ladies dispense so flatteringly?”
    For a short time his using the term “woman” in describing her stopped her tirade, but not for long. “Flatter-… They bloody drool over you. It’s sickening, is what it