Unmoving where he stood, Luke listened. He could have perceived every word spoken had he chosen to do so, but it was enough to hear the tone of them. Joey’s light alto, Collier’s baritone stripped of its usual ease. It was a short conversation; when Collier reappeared, his face was drawn and strange, and he looked at Luke long and searchingly.
“It seems you were right, Luke,” he said, his eyes never wavering. “Or so she says.”
Luke felt his skin shiver where absent hair tried to stand on end. “Then you’ve done your duty, Allan,” he said very softly. “You can leave her in my hands.”
“Can I?” Collier whispered. He stood in the doorway as if to guard the woman within. “How well have you taken care of her, Luke? Have you really left her with any choice at all?”
The words struck at Luke so savagely that he almost changed then and there, the stress attempting to shift his muscles into a form made for instinctive response. Instead, he molded the power into one single unerring focus, turned it on Collier, and loosed it as he had done before.
“Listen carefully, Allan. Joey wants to stay with me. She is happy and has no desire to leave.” He laid down the compulsion carefully, refusing to think, rejecting the human shame that would have stopped him. “When you return to Lovell, you will know that she is safe and well. Nothing is wrong, if you are needed, you will come, and you will see everything as it should be.”
The blue eyes trapped by his were glazed; Luke tried not to see Joey there, and what he had done to her. “You will tell no one that she is with me, Allan. If anyone asks, you’ll say she was taken to the hospital in East Fork and flew home from there. Do you understand?”
Nodding slowly, Collier leaned heavily against the wall as he began to shake. Luke recognized the signs, Collier was fighting the compulsion, unable to break it but aware in some distant part of himself what was happening. It would make no difference. Luke lifted his lip in self-contempt. How easy it was to control them when he wished to, and how ironic that the two people he loved most in the world were the first to be so privileged.
He turned away before he could strike out in blind rage, and as the contact broke, he saw Collier stagger and drop into the nearest chair.
It took some time before he could smooth his expression and pretend as if nothing at all had happened. He forced himself to sit on the stool Collier had vacated earlier and regarded the doctor across the room. “Didn’t you say you had a ride to catch this afternoon?” he said with a lightness that tasted like acid bile on his tongue. “You’d better be going, I think I hear the plane.”
Still half-dazed, the doctor blinked. He tilted his head and nodded slowly. “Yes. It’s strange I don’t know what came over me just now.” His eyes cleared, a hesitant smile replaced the slack expression on his handsome, weathered face.
“You worked hard to help Joey, Allan,” Luke said, sincere in spite of his bitter self-contempt. “I hope you’ll find time to get some rest. You’ve earned it. There’s nothing more to worry about here—I’ll take good care of Joey.”
“Yes” Collier blinked, and for an instant his brows drew together in a frown. Luke tensed expectantly, but his friend relaxed again almost at once. “Well, I definitely hear my transportation, and I have a kilometer to walk yet.” He stood up, leaned sideways, and caught his balance with a chuckle. “I must be getting old.”
“Not you, Allan. ” Luke rose and moved to steady Collier, the doctor gripped his arm with obvious affection, and it was all Luke could do not to curse himself aloud. “I’ll go with you, at least to the edge of the clearing.”
With a grin the older man let himself be led to the door. “If this were an ordinary French-Canadian village, I’d swear my cider had been spiked with some particularly potent strain of moonshine.” He leaned against Luke heavily. “But I’ve never known any of you to drink anything stronger than water.”