The Amber Stone Read Online Free PDF Page A

teeth. She knew the women were speaking loud enough so that he could hear. She glanced towards him. His face could barely be seen behind the surrounding facial hair, but she could feel his eyes. Hard, glittering eyes. He could hear what the women were saying and they were bothering him. Suddenly he looked straight at her, as if he was sending her a message, in her heart she could feel his pain as if they were attacking her as well. He quickly looked away, but Teresa couldn’t ignore the awareness that had transpired between them. It made her even more certain of her feelings for him. She felt the weight of their inexplicable connection grow stronger. He was the man for her and she’d protect him.
    “You know it’s funny that you should talk about bars,” Teresa said. “How’s my elixir working for your mother’s hangovers?” It was known that Mrs. Faulkner liked to toy with rum.
    Camille turned a cold eye towards her. “So the witch is going to stand up for the mountain man, how sweet. I’m surprised a rich woman like you still shops here.”
    Some residents called her a ‘witch’ because of her interest in herbs and visions. It didn’t bother her, but it made some people uncomfortable. Teresa decided to use that to her advantage. “You know, it’s not wise to anger someone like me.” She bent down and picked up some dust from the ground and rubbed it between her fingers then began muttering gibberish under her breath.
    Camille and Anna’s eyes widened. They dropped their baskets and then ran out of the store screaming.
    Teresa smiled to herself then dropped the dust on the ground, wiping her hands together.
    “You shouldn’t do that,” Bertha Walker said. She was Teresa’s best friend and mentor. She wore a large purple turban on her head as if to add height to her small frame. Like Teresa, she earned the nickname of witch, but held reverence in the community for her wisdom and foresight. Before Teresa had been seen as her apprentice, but now people weren’t so sure. Bertha was an older woman who shared her love of books, tea, cooking and visions. Bertha took out a handkerchief and began cleaning Teresa’s hands as if she were five years old. “You only feed their suspicions.”
    Teresa winked. “Sometimes that comes in handy.”
    Bertha tucked the handkerchief away. “Be careful there.”
    Teresa could still feel the man’s eyes on her, as heavy as a hand on the back of her neck, but she didn’t turn to look at him. She picked up a bag of melon seeds and tossed them in her cart. When she did turn around, he was gone from view.
    “There’s no need to stand up for him,” Bertha said. “You know who he is, don’t you?”
    “No.” She glanced around the store, trying to find him again, but he was nowhere to be found.
    “That’s the problem. Nobody does. Half the people think he’s on parole after being involved with a Jamaican gang. Another half believe he’s part of an Irish mob and his headquarters is that strange house he lives in. It’s also said that he’s a regular at Louisa’s place.”
    Teresa heard the warning Bertha wouldn’t voice. Anyone associated with her cousin was usually bad news. She felt her heart constrict with an unexpected pain. It wouldn’t be a surprise. Louisa was fun and beautiful, men falling for her charm was expected. But her heart couldn’t let her heed her friend’s warning.
    “I know he knows her and the rest…” She shrugged. “They’re just rumors. I know you don’t believe them. What’s the truth?” she asked, knowing Bertha could see what others couldn’t.
    Bertha thought for a moment, pursing her lips. “He’s mysterious, but his heart is good. However, he has a cloud over his head, the signal of bad news.”
    “I know.”
    Bertha looked at her surprised. “You do?”
    “I sensed it when he touched me and that’s never happened before. He’s important to me.”
    “How?”
    “I’m not completely sure, but I plan to find