Odie's eyes glinted as he grinned over at Ruth. "She's always good."
She giggled and blushed.
Nearly snorting the thick drink, Vaughn laughed. "TMI, you crazy kids."
"Ah, no one is ever too old foramour, isn't that right,chérie?"
Odie hadn't moved an inch, but Ruth's eyes glowed and her cheeks flushed even more. Wow. What Vaughn wouldn't give for that man's suave moves.
Odie pointed and whistled. "Mon dieu, my friend, but those are beautiful markings."
Vaughn glanced down. His right bicep was covered in a spiral of thorns. His upper chest and back had thick scrawls of Latin and more thorns. Themes of pain and self-control. Permanent reminders of bad choices. A warning to keep history from repeating itself.
"Thanks." Trying to soften the harsh tone, he raised the glass. "For the drink, too."
Focusing those odd but familiar eyes on Vaughn, Ruth asked, "Is everything all right with you? Here, being home."
Wiping sweat from his forehead with the glove, he took another gulp of the protein drink. "Sure. I'm just helping out here for a bit."
"Then you're gone?"
Why did she want to know? "That's the idea."
With a strange tilt to her head, she tapped her lower lip. "Sometimes—" She paused, like she thought better of what she wanted say. "Sometimes, life happens when we're making other plans. Or so I've been told."
Odie snorted and grinned. Like he knew something.
That smiling Cajun knew nothing when it came to the Taggarts.
"Well. Sure, I guess," Vaughn hedged.
Ruth continued, "And sometimes when life happens, we are changed by it."
What was this woman, some oracle on a mountain?
No, she was a nice person who brought him a protein shake and helped to pull his father back from the brink of fading away. Vaughn could at least listen to what she had to say.
"All right," he said, resting a hand on the punching bag.
The silent exchange between Ruth and Odie was blink-and-you'll-miss-it. What was going on here? Vaughn's skin prickled, and not only from the cool temperature on sweat. An undercurrent of familiarity and fear passed between the three of them.
Her gold-flecked eyes, so much like Vaughn and his siblings.
She pinned him with a placid hazel gaze. Ruth couldn't be more than a year or two older than him. Yet she possessed an air of age and wisdom.
"Have you personally noticed any changes since coming back home?" she asked.
A sensation, akin to when his power activated, zapped him in the temple. But this felt different. External. Like a puff of warm air over his skin or a featherlight brush of a hand over his mind. Familiar. Friendly.
No.
His head shot up toward Ruth, looking for clues. But the woman was like the love child of the Sphinx and Mona Lisa when it came to hiding her emotions. Impressive.
"Like what?" he asked. "Weird stuff on the ranch or personally?"
The sensation of that soft presence continued. Comfortable pressure, like the split second right before getting a warm hug.
What the actual hell? He must be dehydrated from the workout, and hallucinating.
