Free The Amber Stone by Dara Girard Page B

attractive, intelligent and wealthy? Teresa wanted to say, but kept her thoughts to herself. Perhaps if Sean knew she had money, he wouldn’t have discarded her offer of friendship so coldly. “Unfortunately, he’s not the change I’m looking for.” Teresa took the two books Pernelle had selected for her, then left.
     
    ***
     
    She decided to stop by Bertha’s after leaving the bookstore. She loved Bertha’s house, which was located on the tip of South Bank, situated on an acre of land. Teresa walked inside since Bertha always left the door open. The house smelled like strawberry candles.
    “What’s wrong?” Bertha asked, removing a kettle from the stove.
    Teresa was not startled when she did not turn around. Bertha could hear a feather move. “Nothing.”
    Bertha sighed. “You’ve started to lie to me now?”
    Teresa sat on one of the chrome seats, watching Bertha in her flowing red dress and matching turban, looking out of place in her modern steel kitchen. “I just don’t want to talk about it.”
    “What do you have there?” she asked, looking at Teresa’s bag.
    “Two books Pernelle suggested.”
    Bertha sniffed.
    “I don’t know why you don’t like her. She talks too much but she’s always been nice to me.”
    “She’s frivolous.”
    “When you’re that pretty you’re allowed to be frivolous.”
    “I don’t mean in looks, but in manner. Be careful there. Besides, you’re prettier than her in the way that counts.”
    “Spoken like a true friend.”
    Bertha settled into a chair and studied her for a moment. “Did you want to know more about Sean?”
    Teresa briefly covered her ears. “Why does everyone seem to think I have an interest in knowing about him?”
    “When did I become ‘everyone’?”
    She let her hands fall to the table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to exaggerate, it’s just that I had to endure twenty minutes of Pernelle telling me about Sean and his former beautiful wife.”
    “How did she know that?”
    “She knew his wife. She said it wasn’t a good marriage.” She held up her hand. “Not that I care in the least.”
    “That’s a change. What happened?”
    Teresa swallowed feeling her hurt resurface. “I knew that he wouldn’t fall into my arms, but I thought there was a connection. I didn’t think he’d make fun of me. I know that his unruly hair doesn’t hide how good looking he is, but I thought…I didn’t think he’d be cruel.”
    “He’s not cruel. You once told me he had the hands of a healer. Well, he has the hands of a handler too.”
    Teresa gasped knowing the significance. She remembered as a young woman on spring break from college, overhearing her parents speaking in the living room when they thought she was asleep in bed.
    “Finding a man for her won’t be easy,” her mother said.
    “We don’t have to find him, he’ll find her. Relax, my darling. All our daughters are safe.”
    “But how will she know him?”
    Teresa leaned in closer.
    “Come in, Teresa,” her father said with a smile in his voice. “You’ll need to hear this.”
    She walked into the room with a sheepish grin. “I was just getting something from the kitchen.”
    Her father motioned to a chair. “Sit down.” Once she did he said, “You know I consider my daughters my most precious gems. But every stone needs a different setting. You’ll need a man who’s strong enough to hold you and brave enough to protect you. You’ll know him by his touch.” Her father lifted up his hands. “He’ll have the hands of a handler.”
    Her mother shook her head in dismay. “But men like that are rare.”
    “But they do exist.”
    Teresa frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Handlers are a very special breed,” her father said. “They are usually women, but some men have the gift too. They handle things with care. Not everyone can do that, but they do so naturally. They rarely break things, their fingers always bring a sense of order and