RILEY

Three in the morning, the Inn was silent and darker than I remember it ever being in my life. Climbing from bed and careful not to wake John, of course I slammed a toe against the dresser groping my way to look out the window. I bit down hard so I wouldn’t make a sound and am pretty sure the inside of my mouth bled. Glancing back, I could hardly see the bed or the mountain that is my husband under the blankets, but his soft, wuffling snore drifted comfortingly to me and I grinned. He was down for the count.

All’s well with the world, I knew it intellectually. The new baby healthy and sound asleep in the crib and little Nathan, too proud now with his big brother status to sleep behind bars, was snuggled in his big boy bed. They were safe and together in the nursery just beyond our room, and I couldn’t help but feel like the universe had given me heaven, right there in Vermont.

Outside the window slept a silent, icy night. No moon brightened the sky or danced off the glittered surface of the snow blanketing everything from our doorstep to the tip of the mountain. Stars seemed mellowed, whispering from behind thin sheets of cloud cover. The only definition below pooled at the well designed lighting illuminating the property. The 1876 Manor at Mt. Mansfield looked like a well designed city with pale yellow pathways to the barn and entrances, walkways through spindly, bare trees all the way to the gazebo and pond and ending at the distant cottage where Antony and Claudia lived. In that small structure thrummed the security center for us all, the reason I felt safe. I imagined the flickering video screens watching over the gates and protecting our sleeping guests.

Ski season had held on, fingernails dug deep with a tenacity winter boasts in New England, but already I’ve spied a few determined crocuses peeking through the snow here and there. Spring will arrive like it always did. Business was great but I’m ready for spring. Sometimes it’s hard living where you work, but this life has been good to us. Like I said, all’s well with the world … intellectually.

Then there’s that other part, the blinking warning light inside my soul that tells me something’s coming. I just wish I knew what.

I sighed, looked four stories down at the parking lot and could almost see a past pivotal moment in my life, playing out, right before my eyes. Six years ago I sat on a log right there. I was on a personal journey to determine if I should take a chance, or remain in the hell my life had become. I had options for the first time ever, and me? I was too afraid to take the step ahead.

We all have a Portal; a door from one reality to another. Mine brought me to this wonderful place filled with heat and love, warmth and security, passion and … curiosity. Sitting on that rotting log, I honestly considered going back. I was so afraid I’d fail, even in a world designed to help me be happy.

This Inn, this beautiful old mansion was amazing even then, hidden beneath more than a century of paint and abuse, silent and empty. Having been chopped in half and dragged up the mountain road to this location, still it glowed with the dignity it deserved. Strange as it sounds, I’d dreamed about this house ever since I was a little girl. That weekend, I was supposed to go to another magical place, the Temple where all the Crowe men gathered, waiting the arrival of a new sister. Me. I backed out, terrified. I don’t think I had a clue how to be happy. How could I take the chance of disappointing men I admired so much? Maximus? Terry? Bud? How could I risk facing the man I loved? What if John Biebe wasn’t interested in me?

Then, sitting there in tears, crying for myself and this crumbling old house, my cell phone rang and John Biebe asked me to give them a chance. To give him a chance.

I did and it was the smartest move I ever made.

So why do I feel like another huge change is coming? Why now? I don’t want anything to change. I’m happy, complete. Blessed. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe nothing is coming but I seriously doubt it. This feeling is never wrong, and it’s been unyieldingly persistent for weeks now.

I wrapped myself in a thick robe and slid my bare feet into warm wool socks and my bright yellow duck boots. I needed to go to the left tower.

There’s a mystical pulse shift that happens when you go from the right tower to the left tower of this Inn. First of all, there’s no way to do it without going outside and crossing the connecting porch. The arched porch roof is like a thin cable linking two chambers of a living heart. It’s fragile but powerful, making the parts feel like a set of identical, yet totally different twins holding hands. Two halves of the same house, the same hearth, the same home, but there is nothing the same about them.

The bitter night chill slapped my face and before I could traverse the twenty feet between one door and the next, my cheeks were red and lungs hurt from breathing the cold air. I stilled to catch my breath and listen to the silence. It felt oppressive. Deafening.

A slow climb, four floors to the top and the amazing room I know belongs to the house’s soul. The left tower room is usually the place our resident ghosts hang out, the place to connect with the past and the present and sometimes, the future. The Portals are hooked in there. The timber and living sinew of this place get their strength from that room and I smiled as I turned the doorknob, hoping I too would get some strength that strange night.

Instead of a rousing welcome from at least Brian the ghost, I was accosted with even more silence. Spirit had chosen another place to play for a while. Once, a very long time ago, Grandpa Luc pointed to a blank dark sky and whispered a story to me. He said that the spirits of those who’ve crossed over can move freely through the full moon, but when the moon was black, the door was closed and they couldn’t pass. He said some pop into one world or another and stick around for many moons, some simply never explore, and others are biding time until their particular full moon comes to take them home. Looking around and feeling the thick silence, I figured there was a big party somewhere else this month and all the Inn’s ethereal entities had opted for some fun.

With a frustrated plop, I dropped onto one of the benches lining three walls. Across from me, the wall of glittering glass French doors. Usually they showcased the panoramic view of Mount Mansfield but that night, it was just dark. Had my prodigal ghosts taken all the magic with them? Or did the room still hold some power for me?

“What’s going on?” I asked softly and pushed back my hair. God, that room means so much to me. If I was to honestly tell the truth, it means more then the whole Inn. I like the business, love the community and really enjoy the staff and guests, but the Left Tower room is special, like an electrical outlet where I can hook into the secrets of the universe.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m terrified of its power. The ghosts, some total strangers probably stopping by for a visit along their travels just like my breathing guests; the Portals, some bringing new brothers, others trying to suck them back all tangled and twisted in with the Time Portals; and finally, the quiet. This room is like a library, a church, a confessional and a courtroom all at once. Such quiet has the ability to suck your secrets right out of you. I’m always a little leery here, but I’m always right at home too. I have so many memories of this room.

The day John bought this house he brought me here, to this very room, and made love to me. It looked nothing like it does now, it was dirty and the wall of windows were almost all broken or missing. No thick carpet or cushioned benches, just me and John on the splintered old floor but it was magical. Intense. Beyond real and I often wondered if we were maybe not quite all alone in there that afternoon. How many voyeur ghosts watched him toss me to the heavens with climax after climax? Whatever. They had to be jealous. John’s not a normal lover, that’s for sure. He’s MY lover.

Other things happened in that room. Six months later, when John went up the mountain to help rescue three skiers caught in an avalanche, he was lost. Buried for almost two days. During that time, this room was my only comfort, the only place I could pray.

Almost a year later this room again saved me. I’d lost our first baby and wanted nothing more than to die right with him. I was lost, but Terry and John rallied Maximus to come talk me down. He brought me to the center of this room and let it do its magic on me.

This room is how we learned about the real danger of the Portals, how we were able to get John back from Mystery, Alaska. This room is where Bud White talks to us and messes with his grandson, Cory. This room is …

Empty. Truly, completely and frighteningly empty. I looked around, considered switching on the soft overhead lights but didn’t. “Yoo hoo,” I whispered. “Where is everyone?”

Everyone. The word tickled in my chest. Everyone. My, my what a mess John and I created the day we broke every rule of our game world and opted for new rules. What did we do? We got married. No one in our world ever dared try such a thing, and trust me, it could have gone real bad for us. See, the Temple had extended the loan for the reconstruction of the mansion and well, our future income depended on the Inn’s success. We strongly suspected that we’d lose everything but Dino stepped up and did his own version of “changing everything”. He’d done some Time Portal stock market play years earlier and had made the Temple rich. With our little … indiscretion … he decided to simply split the money up and give it to each brother to do as they like.

Strangely enough, it took a while but everyone changed right along with John and me. When I got pregnant, it really rattled the family. Another first. Oh dear, what had we started? Weddings and babies popped up everywhere.

Weddings, weddings, weddings! Jack and Natalie. Jessie and Lachlan. Jeff and Kelly Wigand. Ben Wade and Tracy. So many, so happy and more on the near horizon. Samantha and Egan for sure, Kim and Emily without a doubt. Terry and Eva will do it, I just know they’re right for each other. I love the weddings, I love the babies, I love the evolution of this family.

Kids? We got kids, that’s for sure. A family get together looks more like Saturday evening at Chuck E. Cheese. My tiny gentleman, Nathan. Hando and Mere’s little Tasmanian Diva, Ruthie. Jacob, sweet Egan’s sweet boy. Valerie, Pullo’s darling adopted daughter. Jack and Natalie had twin girls then adopted Eddie. Maximus and Sophia have little Lucy. Jessie and Lachlan’s two beautiful red-headed Currys, Amanda and Daniel. Of course, John and my newest addition, little Michael Biebe. Needless to say, it makes for fun and noisy holidays.

My thoughts on who’s next? I’d bet money Eagan and Samantha have at least three, Ben Wade needs some rambunctious sons, Antony and Claudia are due for a kid or two and my prayers are always with Natalie that she and Jack have another child.

Ah, but the problems and the sad stuff, that happens too, just like in any family. Our uniqueness seems to get overshadowed by the simple stupidity of human nature and dumb mistakes and disasters, the kind none of us are immune from.

Some family problems are big, so big we never see them coming. Three years ago, Natalie tried to kill herself but John sensed it and managed to save her life. It marked the end of Nat and Colin’s long time love and the beginning of her struggle back to reality … only to fall square into Jack’s waiting arms, marry him and have beautiful twin girls. Poor Natalie, the heartache never stops. Their lovely new house in Maine was burned to the ground by a crazy young woman who should have been locked away years ago. Burying one of those pretty little Aubrey girls was devastating and I don’t think any of us will ever get over it.

And among the Crowe men, we certainly have our problem boys, although they’re seldom the ones you’d suspect. Hando is an upstanding citizen in the Burlington and NASCAR communities. He’s a great husband and terrific dad. Well, he’d have to be. Ruthie is one hell of a handful. Ben Wade went from confused outlaw to town sheriff. Nope, our problem boys are those you’d least suspect. Colin hit bottom when alcohol and pills took their toll and cost him his marriage to Carrie. Richie who still enjoys the flavor of the week, blond, brunette or redhead, every chance he gets. Yup, he’s a paternity suit in the making, no two ways about it. I swear, the man’s got groupies and some of our repeat guests are there just for him! It can get complicated when three or more arrive but he always manages, I’m not real sure I want to know how. Then there’s East, who for some reason just can’t seem to fit in around here. And dear Cal McAffrey, who just doesn’t seem to want to even try. It makes me sad. I love this family and always want things to be good for everyone. Even the … ah-hem … oddballs.

Just when we thought we had things figured out, knew to watch for the newest Crowe movie trailers and prepare for the next brother’s arrival, strange new men started appearing on our doorstep. Titus Pullo and eventually, Marc Antony. Ho man, both gorgeous and both a lot to deal with. Other non-Crowe bothers included the surprise arrival of Agent Cooper and Gerry Kennedy. We always seem to have our hands full here. Maturin and Dino came with a brother, these dudes just plopped into our world without rhyme or reason but we love them just the same.

Love. Good subject. I groaned, toed off my rubber boots and stretched out on the bench. Love is a very good subject.

I came through my Portal into a sort of free, sharing, swapping world of gorgeous Crowe men. Each one of them different, amazing, and so very special but there are a few who mean more to me than the others. John comes first, of course, and always had. He’s my husband and the reason I can be who I am. His love is miraculous, extraordinary, remarkable in so many ways I couldn’t count them with a calculator. We’re so perfectly matched it’s uncanny. If there is true and pure love, we have it. No questions, no looking back. But, as I said, there are others.
 
Terry … ahh Terry. There can’t be a woman alive who doesn’t love Terry at some level. He’s by far my dearest friend and confident. He’s always been there when I needed him. Odd, no matter what happens, there’s always someone in particular you need. Terry is my rock. I’m his. He loves me as much as I love him. He’s Nathan and Michael’s godfather and there’s no one else on the planet I trust more.

I have a special place in my heart for my first friend in this world. My pen pal and the man who could always make me smile, Lachlan. I still adore Colin, no matter what life is dealing him. Maximus is my big brother, my strength, we share a spiritual ideal. Then there’s Bud. Thank goodness Bud chose to post himself in my left tower attack room, ghost or not, I’ll always feel safe knowing the White Knight is around.

“But, where are you? Bud?”

A loud thud echoed from across the empty room and I leapt to my feet. “Who’s there? That you, Bud?”

Silence. The darkness seemed blacker. A sudden whoosh of cold and heat circled me then dissipated. I lowered to the bench, my palms sweaty and heart thumping madly. “Who’s here?”

More silence. I could feel them, so many it felt like I was being whipped around in the middle of several tornados. I knew it was the Portals but I also knew that fear accomplishes nothing around such entities … and yes, they are entities. No one will ever convince me that their actions are random and unplanned.

“You don’t scare me,” I lied. “Fuck with someone else. Somewhere else. Leave my family alone.”

“No one’s fucking with anyone, Riley.”

I couldn’t see him at first but damn, I recognized that voice. “You!” I hissed.

“Hating me won’t change things.” There he was, so pale he almost glowed in the darkness, his golden hair wild and … damn … wearing a kilt just like Cal was last time I saw him.

“I hate you for taking him.”

Eric Northman, vampire beautiful, simply sat on the opposite bench and shrugged. He looked tired. That couldn’t be good.

“You okay?”

“You hate me yet you’re concerned for me? How … sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know I’m pissed.”

“Yes, and I assume your husband too is pissed but there are things of this Time Portal I don’t know. Things I may never know. Neither will you, Riley. But,” he stood with a groan and reached a hand. “Let’s go.”

I danced backward, escaping his grip by inches. “Hell no! What are you talking about? No way I’ll go anywhere with you.”

He stepped close and shot those icy blue eyes down his nose at me. “Nothing for you to be so afraid of. I’m not going to bite you.” A quick grin.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Get out of my house, Eric.” I started shaking so hard I thought my knees would buckle. Was this what I was feeling? The change? The thing I knew was coming? Was I meant to be sucked away forever? I can’t! I won’t ever leave John or my boys, ever. “Leave me alone.” I spun on my heel and attempted to leave, his hand tightened over mine but not in a threatening way. I finally turned. “Why?” It was a whisper.

“I don’t know. The Time Portal is the only place in the entire universe where I’m not in control. I’m to take you but I’m assured I’ll be able to bring you back safely.”

“And you trust a Portal?” I gasped.

“No, but as I said, I have no choice.”

“Please don’t.” Tears soaked my face. There I was, trying to rationalize with a vampire under the thumb of a Portal. I was so doomed.

“There’s something you need to see. Something you need to accept.” He drew in a deep breath. “After we do this and I get you back here, I’m staying out of these Portals. I don’t respond well to being dominated, and the Portal is not only giving orders, but threatening things I don’t care to experience should I not obey. Just … come with me. I will protect you, in the Portal, on the other side, and all the way back here, no matter the cost.”

“Sure, like you’d give you life for me,” I spat. I wasn’t going to win and I knew it. I didn’t want to think about him suffering and being hurt or destroyed for disobeying an order, but I sure as hell didn’t want to see myself lost forever in some spinning void. Eric’s hands tightened on my shoulders, his head lowered and eyes met mine, not something you expect from a six foot four vampire.

“Yes. I would give my life. For you … and for my own freedom. Come. If we do this quickly, I can have you back before John wakes … and before I burn in the sunlight.”

Right. He had little time. Maybe I should trust him? I looked back. All around. This is my house, my mystical room … but the fact that when I demanded Eric leave and he didn’t, spoke volumes. The Left Tower room isn’t part of my house. It didn’t belong to me. It belonged to other parts of the universe. Maybe Eric was right and we should all avoid not only the Portals, but this magical space. Still, this structure is the reason I am here and have everything I love. Grandpa Luc and Brian and Bud would be here if I needed help to avoid this … sooo ….. I had to trust. “You are going to be so sorry if this goes badly, Eric Northman.”

“No shit.”

It was faster and less painful than I expected. Eric held my hand tight as wind and light, color and noise trembled then blasted all around us. My robe was shredded at the hem and somewhere, or maybe I should say sometime, I lost the soft chenille belt. Terror gripped my stomach and for a moment I thought I’d throw up. Eric tucked me tight against his chest then reached a long arm high and shouted, “Hold on!”

I held as tight as I could, shocked at the cold hardness of his body but thrilled to know he had done at least part of what he’d promised. We got through the Portal … alive. Now what?

I puked. I puked like a drunken sailor for several long minutes before I was able to catch my breath and look around. Where ever we were it was a moonless night just like home. It was cold and there were patches of snow on the ground but generally we were in the countryside. What country and what year, only God and the Portal knew.

“Where are we?”

“Not sure, give me a moment.” Eric sniffed like a lion then grinned. “Where we’re supposed to be, this way, there’s a stream, you can drink some water before we move on.”

“Eric, I have to get back before John or the baby wakes. I have to.”

“Yes, and your breath needs … ah … freshened … before we meet with him, so,” he pointed down to a bubbling brook I would have stepped right into if he hadn’t stopped us.

“It’s so dark,” I hissed between gulps. God, I’ve never tasted water like that, so fresh and freezing cold. I rubbed my hands together to warm them but I was shaking so hard, it was probably all of twenty degrees and I was in my stocking feet. Eric unpinned a beautiful plaid shawl-thing he was wearing and wrapped it around me before nodding for us to walk further.

Not far, just outside of the tree cover I saw him and my heart leapt … just before it dropped. “Oh my god!” I whispered. “He looks ten years older!”

“He is,” Eric held my arm, keeping me from running into the clearing then he whistled a funny warble and Cal looked up from behind a low stone wall. Behind him stood a small cottage, smoke puffed from the chimney and warm light glowed at the small windows. A grin spread wide and he waved. But as he moved to meet us I could see the awkward limp and walking stick he heavily leaned on with each step.

“He’s hurt?”

“Long time ago,” Eric sighed then reached out to grasp Cal’s hand. “Brother.”
 
They embraced before Cal untangled himself from Eric’s long arms and pulled me into a bear hug. His hair had so much grey twisted in the waves, I could tell even in the dark night. I kissed his neck and blinked back a tear.

“I’m fine, Riley.” He had a funny Scottish accent I never heard before, but if Eric was correct and Cal had lived ten years in this place, I suppose it made sense. So did the kilt I saw him wear only a week earlier when he came to the Inn and talked to me.

Cal shrugged, looked sheepish. “Ah, lass, glad Eric was able to get you here. See, I’m not comin’ back, Riley. Come, let me show you why.”

He tugged my arm and together we walked close to one of the windows. Inside sat a beautiful woman, at her knee, a girl about Ruthie’s age, four or five and at the table, diligently writing in a book, a small boy of about eight.

“My wife, Colleen. Little Mary there, rollin’ yarn for her mother and that lad, that’s my son William. Riley, I’m a farmer but I am tryin’ to write a book. In the blood, you know.”

He leaned in a kissed a tear as it slid down my cheek. “Aw now, you’re so cold, but I wanted to see you. Sometimes the Portal gives me what I need, often at the hands of an old vampire but … oh,” he jerked his chin to Eric, “best not to be wearin’ the plaid, Eric. Next time –”

“There won’t be a next time, McAffrey.”

Cal moved back to the stone wall and leaned comfortably while he lit a pipe. “So, it’s done then? All as it’s meant to be.”

“What does that mean?” I was freezing and mad as hell. “What are all these secrets?”

“No secrets, Riley. Just a few answers, that’s all.”

“I don’t understand.” The waterworks were on again.

“It’s done, Riley. Maybe … just maybe … we’re all where we’re meant to be. All settled like it’s supposed to be. Maybe?” His eyes twinkled. “Tell John I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just disappear and I sure as hell didn’t think I’d never come back. But,” he shrugged again and winked, “sometimes ...” A sadness rippled across his eyes as they scanned the dark, rolling landscape. “Sometimes things just work out that way.”

“What happened to you, Cal?” I watched his face and felt Eric’s big hand rub my back. Was he supporting me or trying to warm me or ready to pull me away? I had to know before we left, I just had to. “What happened?”

“Curiosity became more, Riles. A war, a wife, love and a family. That’s what happened to me. It’s 1757. I’m thinkin’ of taking my family to America. How’s that for strange? Either way, I won’t see you again, sweetheart. I just want you to know … want them all to know … I’m fine. Now,” he glanced toward the sky, “soon, the sun comes up and my day begins. Colleen has something hot for me to eat and I have lots to do.”

I nodded and blinked away tears.

“My friend here needs to take you home to Vermont. Kiss the kids for me.” Cal McAffrey winked and simply left us there while he entered his warm home.

Light licked at the edge of the horizon and I turned a worried glance at Eric.

“We have time. Come.”

I didn’t get nauseated on the return trip and there was only time for a brief kiss on the vampire’s cheek before he had to leave again. I understood that I’d never see Cal again, but suspected that Eric, now prolific at both the Time Portal and his own personal Portal, might pop by once in a while, perhaps Halloween or some other moonless dark night when I can’t sleep. I hope he knows I’m grateful he took me.

But that grateful feeling dissolved quickly and I was in a blue funk for several days. John picked up on it and made monumental efforts to cheer me up, some in bed and some … well, other places. Who knew a closet could be so much fun? Still, I held the secret and pushed my sadness deep for a long while.

Just like I knew it would, spring arrived. Easter weekend the entire family came together. It was amazing, the first time in years we’d been able to pull off a complete reunion … but then again, it wasn’t complete without Cal. I planned and arranged, organized activities for the kids and made sure there was enough time for the men to do their manly grunting thing, while the women got time to gossip and laugh. It should have been perfect.

On Monday, just before out of town family was up or packing to catch planes, I went down into Stowe. My favorite bookstore had called with a cookbook I ordered weeks ago. I figured there might be something wonderful in it to make for lunch. While I stood at the counter, waiting to pay for my purchase, I noticed an old tome on the shelf behind Mary, the store owner. “Can I see that book?”

“Sure, be careful though. It’s over a hundred years old. Don’t think it’s worth a lot, since someone wrote in it. See, the last few pages? Even the handwriting looks old, but you know antique dealers. Pristine is where the money is.”

The cover was stained, a dark green with a faded gold leaf title. The True Story of Culloden by Cal McAffrey. My heart almost jumped out of my throat! “Um,” I said as cool as possible. “How much do you want for this?”

Mary shrugged. “A hundred. Nah, maybe fifty.”

I flipped to the last few pages. What I read made me want to pee my pants!

See, I told you. I did write a book. My best to John and the others and if you ever get to Iverness, stop by and see me, most likely in the church yard. Never made it to America, but never forgot any of you. Love, Cal.

“Some prankster no doubt,” she snorted. “Tell you what, just give me twenty-five and I’ll be satisfied.”

I gave her a hundred dollars and rushed home to tell the family.

Terry fingered the old pages, his brows all twisted up and head shaking. “What’s this all mean?”

“I think Cal was right. It means we’re all just fine, right where we belong.” I sighed.

In the living room, the kids squealed and giggled. Outside the windows, birds chirped and flowers bloomed, the sun shone bright and massive white clouds drifted across a perfect Vermont sky. Terry carefully handed to book to Jack who examined the pages with a delicacy one would never expect from such a big man. We were all so quiet, so content. So, dare I say … complete?

John stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His chin propped on top of my head then he whispered just before kissing my ear. “We’re right where we belong, baby.”