The Gifted Ones: A Reader by Maria Elizabeth Romana Page A

laughed at that, Grace wincing from the pain as she did so, and then they tried it again.
    Joe talked her through the ritual, as he did with all his patients, reminding her to focus all her healing energy on the injured spot, to increase the blood flow to the area, and to chase away the inflammation and swelling. Then they did the same thing with her bruised ribs. When they were done, she boosted herself back into an upright position again. “Better?” he asked.
    Her eyes looked soft and drowsy. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Thank you, Joe.”
    “Glad to help. Hopefully, you’ll lose some of that awful color by the time we get there.” He wondered if he should return to his seat, if it would make her feel uncomfortable for him to stay so close. He wanted to stay close. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her, too, until he was with her again.
    Before he could make up his mind, something caught his eye out the window. He pointed. “Hey, look, remember the old mountain tunnel?”
    “The tunnel! Omigosh, I forgot about the tunnel.” Grace laughed. “When I was little, I thought this place was better than Disney. Disney’s just make-believe; Granny’s farm is real.”
    “You’ll be impressed with all the stuff that’s been added, and some of the improvements we’ve made, especially to the security features. Oh, and you’ll love our new cook. Some famous chef from Jamaica. He can turn a pile of rocks into a gourmet meal. I think I’ve gained ten pounds since he settled in with us.”
    “Joe…”
    He ignored the cautionary tone in her voice and ran right over her. “And we’ve got this great room in the back corner of the house where Margo Wilcox used to stay. It’s got a beautiful view of the pasture, and the most charming—”
    She spoke more firmly, “Joe, this isn’t permanent. You know that, right?”
    He was silent.
    “I mean, it’s one thing to tell Ellie she’s got the gene, meet some of your… her people, understand your goals and all that, but it’s quite another to take this on as a lifestyle. That’s your choice, and Granny’s and Angel’s and whoever else, but it’s not Ellie’s. Ellie was happy in Atlanta. She loved her life. She had loads of friends. She joined clubs, performed in the school play, even helped me out at the Animal Hospital when she had time. She’s not going to run away and hide in the hills of North Carolina for the rest of her life, like you.”
    Joe turned his head sharply toward the window, biting back the retort that had formed on his lips.
    “Ugh. Sorry, Joe. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I just—”
    “I know what you meant.” He sighed and looked at her again. “Like you said earlier—you want Ellie to have a normal life. You don’t want to turn her upside down and inside out, and you want to save her from any more pain. I get that. But isn’t it her choice? She’s sixteen. She’s old enough to—” He stopped himself as he heard a loud yawn and a rustling from across the cabin.
    It was Angel, stretching her long, muscular arms over her head. She pulled herself up to a sitting position, then flashed Joe and Grace her signature toothy, bright white smile. “Man, I love this ride. If you gotta shake some bad guys, this is definitely the way to go.” She glanced out the window. “So, we’re almost home, right? ’Cause I’m starving.”
    Grace laughed. “You and Ellie are going to get along well—simple needs: food and sleep, sleep and food.”
    Angel looked at the sleeping girl. “You’d never know it. What’s she weigh, like eighty-five pounds? I could help her with that. I could teach her to lift some weights maybe…and then pig out on ice cream together. It’ll be fun. I been needing another chiquita to hang out with.” She reached over and yanked on her new friend’s arm. “Hey sister, rise and shine. Time to land.”
    The bleary response was half-mumbled, “Land? Where? Aunt Grace?”
    Grace turned to face her. “Hi,