Phoenix Feather Read online

  She wiped down the bar in the predawn hour before the morning rush. The doors opened and the sound of voices disturbed the vacant silence. Aidan turned to greet them.

  “Good morning,” one of them said, and flashed her a bright smile.

  “Good morning,” she replied, surprised to see the fireman again. He was with two other firemen this morning, and she could see an engine truck outside taking up three parking spaces. “To-go?”

  Trent chuckled. “Table.”

  She led them to a booth and handed out menus. They ordered coffee, and she grabbed a fresh pot from the machine and filled their cups.

  “I thought firemen made their own meals at the firehouse.” She cast a covert glance Trent’s way.

  “Yes, but we were headed out this way anyway to do inspections,” he replied.

  “Though it could have waited another hour,” one of his companions muttered. Brown hair stuck out at odd ends and a five o’clock shadow made the guy look like a rather scrappy firefighter. “Keep the coffee coming.”

  “I wanted to beat the morning rush.” Trent glanced at Aidan, and she tried to read the innocent look on his face.

  “I see,” the older man said with a grin. He had a little bit of gray streaking his dark hair like permanent ash. “We may have more gourmet, restaurant-cooked meals for breakfast in our future.”

  “So your plan didn’t go so well last time,” Aidan said to Trent.

  “Maybe not exactly. But something came out of it.” He held her gaze for a moment, as though he was considering saying something else.

  “I’m ready to order,” the second man interrupted. He had already downed his first cup of coffee, which helped improve his posture.

  Trent started, and this time he didn’t comment on Aidan’s lack of pen and paper. She placed their orders with the kitchen and came back with more coffee for the grouchy one, Sam. Frank, the oldest of the three, automatically placed the sugar dispenser next to him.

  “He needs four more cups of coffee,” Trent told Aidan. “Don’t take it personally.”

  She smiled and decided to leave the pot on the table.

  The bell at the counter rang five minutes later, and she went to grab their food.

  “So, Aidan,” Frank said after she had put their plates in front of them. “You still waiting for Mr. Right, or have you already found him?”

  She stiffened. Frank smiled nonchalantly; he hadn’t asked on behalf of himself. She took a moment to casually smooth down her apron, sparing a glance at Trent’s dismayed face.

  “Mr. Right hasn’t found me.”

  The doors opened as the start of the morning crowd trickled in, and Aidan realized she had overstayed on her shift. She had found herself once again attracted to conversation with Trent, but after that last remark, she was glad of the escape. She seated the new arrivals, grabbed her coat, and headed out into the nippy morning air. The sun was glaringly bright in the east.

  “Aidan!”

  She turned around in the parking lot. Trent was hurrying after her. He caught up and opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated.

  “I was wondering if I could take you to dinner sometime, or lunch, or coffee even.”

  Aidan stared at him. She didn’t need this in her life right now; she was too busy working to achieve a goal. But she enjoyed talking with him, and she missed the companionship—even though there was also heartache, inevitable heartache.

  Trent stood in the cold air, rubbing his arms and waiting patiently. He had left his jacket inside.

  Aidan thought about it for a moment longer. “I like dancing.”

  “Dancing?” he repeated.

  She nodded and turned to walk away.

  “Alright,” she heard him say, and hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath.

  “Why aren’t you more excited?” Phoebe asked. She removed a tray of baked cookies from the oven and put a new batch in. Her kitchen held a mess of eggshells and scattered chocolate chips, and a haze of flour dust hung in the air. They were baking cookies for the high school girl’s soccer team that Phoebe coached to sell at the next game.

  Aidan scooped hot cookies from the tray to plates. “Dating is a complicated process.”

  “Complicated? It’s supposed to be fun. When’s the last time you went on a date?”

  “1930,” she mumbled without thinking.

  “Well, could be worse,” Phoebe continued, having heard her. “Compared to the entire timeline, 1930 isn’t as bad as ancient Roman times.” She shook her head. “Seriously though, you need to get your head out of the past and into the future.”

  Aidan pressed her lips together. She didn’t usually make a slip of the tongue like that, but she had become so comfortable with Phoebe and her brother that it almost seemed as though Aidan could tell them the truth. She had felt this way before: wanting to share her secret with someone she trusted. She knew better though. Aidan took a deep breath. These feelings would pass. Before she would know it, this life would be over and she’d be in the next, having survived once again without breaking the veil between what people fondly called reality and fantasy.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note Trent had left at the restaurant for her. “Meet me at the Northfield Outlets on Thursday at 5PM near the country clothes store. Wear boots.”

  Phoebe peered over Aidan’s shoulder. “Hmm, mysterious.” Her face fell at Aidan’s pensive expression. “You are going, aren’t you?”

  Aidan rolled her eyes. “I guess so. Want to help me find what to wear?”

  Phoebe laughed. “My pleasure. You can even borrow my boots if you want.”

  “Those I have.” Aidan didn’t know why she felt apprehensive about this date. It couldn’t hurt to have a little fun. She was young and full of life; part of her wanted to experience the same kind of exhilaration she last felt with Ivar. But it was the emotional domino effect she was afraid of. Even after all this time, she was still vulnerable to the chemical responses that caused her stomach to do somersaults.

  Aidan put the note down and returned to scraping cookies off the tray. “Okay, I’m looking forward to it. Happy?”

  Phoebe beamed. “Yes.”

  “Where’s Chris?”

  “Taking a nap.” Phoebe started sweeping the chocolate chips off the counter. “He’s been sleeping a lot lately. Says his critical theory classes are really hard this year.”

  They heard a shuffling in the back room, and a moment later Chris emerged, hair disheveled, eyes half-closed. “Smells good,” he mumbled, and swiped a cookie from one of the plates as he came in.

  “Put that down,” Phoebe said. “Those are for the soccer team.”

  He gave Phoebe a pitiful face, she glared at him, but in the end he ate the cookie.

  “If your date goes well,” Phoebe said. “Maybe you can bring him to the game next weekend.”

  Aidan looked between Phoebe and Chris. “And you two can give your judgments.”

  Chris grabbed another cookie. “We need to know if this guy’s good enough for you.”

  “Keep it up and I will have you in traction and you won’t be passing judgment on anyone,” Phoebe sniped, and jabbed her spoon at him.

  Aidan laughed. This would be an entirely new kind of dating experience for her. Not only was this a new age, but also for the first time in history, she had two devoted friends so immersed in her life that their opinions about the guy would matter.

  ***

  Trent stood near the curb in front of the Western Attire store in the Northfield Outlet shopping center. He could see the rims of the buildings across the parking lot, sharp against the waning light. Several people had already gathered inside the store, but he still hoped Aidan would come. He had been somewhat cryptic in his note, but he liked the slight element of surprise, and wanted it to be a treat for her. Tonight needed to leave a lasting impression. He just hoped it was a good one.

  He hadn’t seriously dated since high school back in Texas. Being a firem
an took a lot of time with twenty-four-hour alternating shifts, and he hadn’t met anyone he was that interested in. He had gone on a few casual dates, all group settings at fire department gatherings, but none of those girls had intrigued him as much as Aidan.

  At last, he saw her coming across the parking lot. She wore a slim black blouse with a red crisscrossed cut down the collar, blue jeans, and knee-high black boots. Her dark red hair bounced over her shoulders in subtle waves. She skipped across the drive and onto the sidewalk.

  “Hey, you look great,” he said.

  “Thank you. So, why the boots? They’re not exactly meant for walking around a mall.”

  Trent just smiled, took her arm, and guided her into the Western Attire store. The first thing that stood out was that several people were not shopping, but standing around a large section of polished wooden floor as clerks pushed and pulled clothes racks aside.

  “What is this?” Aidan asked.

  “Well, you didn’t specify what type of dancing you preferred. But you seem the type willing to try new things. This is line dancing.” He watched a smile slowly creep onto her face and knew he had chosen well. “Every Thursday they offer line dancing lessons for free. It’s a good marketing technique that draws customers in. But mostly, it’s just fun.”

  Aidan nodded as she took in the scene, and her smile widened. “Lead the way.”

  The floor was cleared and people began to line up in rows. A woman dressed in a complete cowgirl get-up came out to the front of the lines. “Welcome to Western Attire! Y’all ready to get started?”

  The audience whooped and cheered. Music started vibrating from the speakers and people began clapping to the rhythm. The leader jumped right in to the dance. Trent knew all the steps, so he could afford to focus a little more attention on Aidan. She looked intent on studying the leader, and she picked the moves up quickly. Soon she was stepping and pivoting in line with the rest of them, beaming as though she was having the time of her life. Trent couldn’t have enjoyed anything more than watching those amber-brown eyes dance.

  The dance lesson went for an hour. By the time they finished, Aidan’s cheeks looked flushed, accentuating her bright, white smile. The audience of shoppers clapped, and the sales associates came to move the racks back into place. Trent retrieved Aidan’s purse and handed it to her.

  “Would you like some dinner?”

  “Sure,” she said, slightly out of breath.

  They went to a small, family-owned pizza place with cozy booths a few stores down. A waitress seated them and took their orders for individual mini pizzas, and then brought them a basket of garlic bread as an appetizer.

  “That was a lot of fun, thank you,” Aidan said.

  “I’m glad,” he replied. “What other types of dance do you know?”

  Aidan dipped a breadstick in a small bowl of melted butter. “Ballroom, reels, some ceremonial dances.”

  “Ceremonial?”

  “Um, yeah.” She held the breadstick over her other hand so as not to drip on the table. “I studied abroad for a bit, learned history by recreating it.”

  “What made you interested in history?” Trent leaned back in his seat. He was much more interested in her than food.

  Aidan thought for a few moments. “The world wouldn’t be the way it is without the progress of history. You wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for your ancestors. I think their lives are just as important as our own. Someone should remember them. What about you? How did you learn to line dance?”

  Trent leaned forward again. “I grew up in Texas.”

  “Wow, Washington’s quite a different scenery.”

  He nodded and took a sip of soda. “My grandparents live here. I came out for school, got a job as a fireman, and liked it so much I stuck around after graduating. When I found the Western Attire store and its lessons, I made a habit of coming out here about once a month.”

  The waitress interrupted them as she brought out their pizzas. Trent looked over at the Maui Zaui Aidan had ordered; little things told him more about her. She usually portrayed a calm and reserved manner, but also knew how to let loose like the wind, and her taste in Canadian bacon, pineapple, and pepper pizza showed that she had a streak of boldness in her.

  “Is the rest of your family back in Texas?” Aidan asked, and lifted a slice oozing with cheese to take a bite.

  “My parents are. My brother came out here too. Is your family here?”

  She shook her head and wiped tomato sauce from her chin. “They live in Colorado. Like you, I came out here for school.”

  “Siblings?”

  “No.” She paused. “I was adopted.”

  He didn’t detect any grief or hidden pain in the way she said it, so he decided to probe a little. “As a baby?”

  “I was eleven.” Her voice sounded calm, but he could see the tension build in her shoulders. “It was a small town where they found me. My adoptive parents are wonderful. I grew up near a ranch; that was fun. What about you in Texas?”

  She was trying to divert the conversation, but he wouldn’t be thwarted. There was something just under the surface, and he wanted to crack it open just a little. “Unfortunately, I grew up in the city,” he replied. “They found you? What about before that?”

  She smiled almost ruefully. “I don’t remember. Complete amnesia, which the doctor said was probably for the best, whatever that means.”

  Trent was stunned. “Did you or the police ever find out?”

  “No. It’s not important.”

  She shrugged it off so casually.

  “In your quest of history, I just thought you might have been curious,” he said gently.

  Aidan grinned at that. “My adoptive parents were loving. They treated me like their own daughter. History should never be forgotten, but sometimes it’s someone else’s job to do the remembering.”

  There was one of those inevitable pauses in the conversation. Each of them took a mouthful of pizza in order to alleviate the awkwardness. Trent liked her. She was bright and cheerful, open, and yet there was still some air of mystique about her. There was an enigma to her past, which she didn’t seem to mind despite its dark connotations. In spite of that, however, she still possessed this strong sense of self-knowing, as though the mystery of her past didn’t affect her. She was sure of herself. Trent wanted to get to know her more. He was about to ask her something else, but she beat him to it, and this time he decided to let her lead the conversation.

  “So, do you like sports?”

  Trent nodded, relieved the serious turn in conversation hadn’t ruined the direction of the evening. “Yeah, most of them. We play basketball at the firehouse.”

  “What about watching them?”

  “Are you kidding? Football is huge in Dallas. Unfortunately, my brother and I are outnumbered when it comes to the team we root for here.”

  Aidan took another breadstick and tore off a piece. “My friend, Phoebe, coaches high school girls’ soccer. There’s a big game next weekend. I go to support Phoebe. Plus, I helped make the cookies to raise money for the team.” She paused and glanced at her plate. “If you want to come…”

  Trent couldn’t help but smile, though he tried to hide how pleased the invitation made him. “Sure.” He would love to meet her friends. They would give him more insight into Aidan, seeing her interact with them. She’d probably show a little more of herself to him in familiar surroundings, which was what he wanted. He understood the pressure to put on a good face on the first few dates; he was feeling it in that moment. There was no easier way to get to know someone than to see them in their element.

  Aidan pulled a pen from her purse and wrote the directions on a napkin.

  Trent looked them over and nodded when he recognized the park. “Great. Will I get to try one of those cookies?”

  She shook her head at him and her mouth twitched in a smile, just the reaction he was hoping for. He paid for dinner and walked her to her car.

  “Thank you,�
� she said. “I had a really good time.”

  “So did I.” Trent’s eyes dropped briefly to her mouth, but he pulled them back to meet her gaze. “See you next weekend.”

  Aidan smiled and got in her car. Trent watched her pull out and drive away. Their first date had gone rather well.

  ***

  He stood under a large sycamore tree, watching the building. It was dark and cold. He shivered as icy drops ran down his collar; some twitch in the branches above had loosed what remained of the evening drizzle. But he wouldn’t move from his cover. He had felt cold before, much more than the slow decline in temperature between September and October in the Northwest United States. He had seen winters these feeble Americans could never imagine.

  A pain burned in his chest like ice, and he put his hand over his coat pocket. For all the winters he had known, the one that had taken up permanent residence in his heart was the worst. Heat didn’t soothe him. That’s why he stood there, patiently enduring the cold to find the one source of heat that would make him warm again. He had watched her. He knew her movements, her habits, the way her freckles became brighter when she laughed. The last one had been wrong, another mistake, an empty promise. This one—she could be it. She had to be. His hands ached as he flexed the gaunt muscles in his gnarled fingers.

  The lights in the law office went out. She was always the last to leave, working overtime for a promotion. He watched her lock up and walk to her car, her copper hair constrained in a tight bun at the top of her head. He would have to set those fiery locks free. He finally took a step and walked silently toward her.

  Chapter Four

  Sounds of shouting and cheering filled the stands as the soccer teams battled it out for victory on the field. It reminded Aidan of some of the more bloody competitions of ancient civilizations. Sometimes, the competition on the field was just as underhanded. Phoebe always urged her team to play fair though, and they had won many good sportsmanship awards because of it.