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  The Librarian’s Treasure

  Katherine H. Brown

  Copyright © 2021 Katherine Brown Books. All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  1

  T he only one of the four men without a beard had fiery red hair that seemed to crackle and undulate like real flames. Drake rubbed his eyes, thinking maybe it was time to put down the Jameson…for good. When he opened them, the movement had stopped, though the red coloring remained rich and vivid.

  Wondering how he hadn’t seen them before he closed the pub, Drake walked slowly around the bar. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell them to leave, but some tingling curiosity kept him from actually doing it.

  The four men were short. Not your average short, no; the men’s chins barely rose above the bar top. He had almost mistaken them for children. Drake leaned over the bar to take their orders. After all, he had nowhere else to go, besides the small bed in the apartment upstairs.

  “We’re not here for food or drink, lad,” said the man on the far left, hands stuffed in his pockets. The voice was lilting, almost musical, the words said with a grin.

  Drake frowned, crossing his arms. “Then what are you doing in my pub?”

  Another of the men stepped forward. “Here for your help, we are.” He held an ornate cane loosely in his grasp, tapping it on Drake’s chest as he spoke.

  “Listen, I don’t know what you want, but I think you should leave.” Drake calculated the odds of being able to throw all four of the men out at the same time. The redhead looked like he might still be trouble, short or not.

  The last man on the right flicked his wrist, and a drawstring bag clinked heavily onto the bar in front of Drake, who could have sworn it simply dropped from nowhere. He hadn’t seen the man holding a bag, nor had he had time to pull it from his pocket. Drake shook his head to clear his crazy imaginings. He opened the bag warily, and gold coins spilled out.

  How many Euros would this much gold be?

  “Help we need. Gold we have.” The man with the cane thumped it on the floor, and another bag of gold coin materialized next to the first. “Interested?”

  Drake stared. The second bag definitely came out of nowhere. No question about it. He thought he should tell the strange men to leave, to take their tricks and their gold and get out of his pub. He palmed a few of the coins, rolling the cold metal between his fingers.

  Unable to help himself, he said, “I’m listening.”

  The curly red hair of the beardless man crackled and danced again. The man with the cane, the leader, nodded to the second man who began a fantastic tale, the air itself seeming to swell and hum along with his melodious speech.

  2.

  D rake watched her. The woman didn’t even know he was there, following her every move with his eyes.

  She’s back. Again. Serious doubts snaked their way into Drake’s mind, doubts that she could be the woman he had been sent to find, doubts that anyone else could be a less likely mark. In fact, he doubted whether he should have listened to those odd little men and come at all. He’d been watching her for weeks as he staked out the building, and she seemed so very…ordinary…plain really, even if he were to be kind with his assessment of her.

  Slightly below average height, hair piled precariously in a knot at the top of her head. It appeared to be a dark shade of brown, but as Drake never observed her wearing it down, he couldn’t tell for certain. Watching grew dull. Time was of the essence, or so he’d been told. It seemed as if he might have been sent on a wild goose chase, for there was surely nothing special about that woman.

  “Oh!” The woman, slightly startled, took a step back.

  Finally! He had her attention at last. Much to Drake’s frustration, it had taken nearly knocking her down, of all things, to get that attention. He had been trying all week to catch her eye as she visited the library each day, wandering, browsing the floor to ceiling shelves thoroughly before ever selecting a thing, carrying around stacks of books, keeping some and shelving others, searching the card catalog while chewing on her bottom lip, making notes on scraps of paper as she poured through the towers of books beside her. No matter what, she only had eyes for the books.

  ***

  Drake’s first attempt had been Tuesday. Abysmal weather worked against him, however, driving hordes of people to seek out the warm lighting, the almost-plush couches, and coffee, tepid at best, from the library’s Corner Café.

  Corner Café. A laughable moniker indeed, had he been in a laughing mood. The barely three-by-four-foot area of seating curved around the counter where an aged employee of the library chose to spend her days serving up poor coffee and even poorer gossip in between checking out books to patrons. It did not deserve the lofty title of Café.

  Needless to say, posing as the charming and intellectual student studying in the library did not attract the woman’s attention, not with so many others crowding around, complaining loudly about the weather. No, she avoided people it seemed, so Tuesday had been another waste of his time.

  Wednesday, there was no opportunity to engage since the monthly report was scheduled. And wasn’t that a fun time. Drake reported exactly what he had observed, as well as his thoughts on that fool’s errand, only to be dismissed, told once again that she was the key, that they depended on him to determine how much she knew, counted on him to get her to Ireland even.

  Thursday, he tried again. Drake took to the shelves, appearing to read titles while skimming the library for her presence. He felt her before he saw her. Over the previous agonizingly long month of watching, Drake became attuned to her. It was like an exhalation or a sigh when she entered, as if the library itself had been holding its breath in anticipation. As she began her circuitous route amongst the rows, hands skimming the shelves, he endeavored to place himself in her path. Each time he did, she sidestepped him, never looking up, taking no heed of his five-nine muscular frame occupying more than half the aisle. It was as if he wasn’t there. Time and again, Drake managed to guess the correct row and be there when she approached, only to be strolled by without a spare glance. After more than fifteen frustrating minutes spent in such an exasperating dance, he gave up before she became suspicious.

  Friday. It must be Friday, Drake decided. He spent most of Thursday evening debating and deciding how to bring about a meeting, and finally, his plan had succeeded.

  Somewhat.

  ***

  “So sorry about that,” Drake apologized, only a small lilt of his Irish accent remaining, mostly wiped away by years in English boarding schools and college. He looked down at the woman and saw her focus was not on him, but on the box of old books he carried.

  So much for gaining her attention, Drake thought in frustration. He forced himself to smile.

  3.

  I didn’t even see you there.” A voice interrupted Raegan’s perusal of the dusty old books dumped at her feet. “Are you okay?”

  “Hmm?” she murmured, eyes scanning the books. “Oh, yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She pulled her gaze upward to the man she had clumsily run into. She was a bit disappointed in herself; she usually avoided people better than that. “My fault for not looking where I was going.” Raegan froze upon finding the most intense amber eyes she had ever seen
looking back at her.

  Great, she chided herself internally, just great. First you try to run this guy over, and now, you’re staring like an idiot. Come on, Rae, pull it together. However, before she could gather her wits and prove to herself that she was still capable of speech, the man in front of her spoke.

  “No problem at all.”

  He looked as if he were going to say more.

  “Ok then, I’ll get out of your way.” Raegan tried to quickly escape down the end of the aisle, past the unsettlingly handsome stranger. Unfortunately for her, he chose just that moment to shift the box in his arms, and she collided with the corner, overturning it once again.

  “Sheesh.” Raegan groaned and dropped to her knees, carefully straightening the books that had scattered at their feet. “I’m so sorry.” The words tumbled quickly from her mouth.

  He bent to help clean up the mess. “I think this one is on me,” he joked. “I’m Drake, by the way.”

  “Rae. Well, Raegan actually,” she forced herself to reply. “I hope I didn’t damage any of your books.”

  As she methodically stacked the volumes, Raegan scanned the titles and was surprised at the subject matter. The guy, with his noticeably muscled chest and thick arms, struck her as the type to be hitting the gym, not cracking open books on leadership and self-help topics. She quirked an eyebrow and raised Command Your Own Destiny out of the pile to look at it closer, but Drake quickly snatched it away.

  “Not my books,” Drake corrected her. “I’m stacking them for the library, actually. I just took a part-time position here.”

  Raegan went very still.

  “Oh.” She managed the word in such a way that it wasn’t clear whether she meant it as a question or a statement.

  “How about you?” Drake questioned. “Come here often?”

  “Yes, somewhat often.” Raegan chewed on her bottom lip, clearly pre-occupied again. She placed the last of the books into the box and quickly stood. “Well, there you go. I’ve got to run,” she stammered.

  4.

  A part-time job. What was I thinking? I’m not cut out for this sneaking around, clandestine business anymore. I’ve been out of the game too long. Drake placed his head in his hands, replaying the earlier conversation, if it could even be called a conversation. Raegan was nothing like any female he had ever met.

  First of all, he’d never had to work to get attention. Usually, there was more attention than he wanted. Especially when the women in question were constantly chattering on and on about the latest this or that and expecting him to care.

  Raegan, on the other hand, almost required surgical instruments to get her mouth open and moving, unless it was an apology of course. He still thought the group of men interested in her, the League, were wrong. All of them telling him that girl was important. How such a timid creature could be expected to save the village, or save it from what even, Drake still didn’t understand. Back to the job though. He would simply have to talk to old Ms. Jensen at the Corner Café about a part-time position or a period of volunteer work.

  ***

  “What do you mean you can’t even authorize me to volunteer?” Drake asked impatiently on Monday.

  Hand on her hip, Ms. Evelyn Jensen shrugged. “Just what I said. I’m not in charge. You’ll have to ask the owner.”

  “The owner? But this is a public library? Isn’t it owned by the city or something?” Drake asked, dragging a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

  “Public library, private ownership. Ask the owner, like I told you. I’m sure she could use a man just like you.” Her gaze raked him up and down, and a slight twinkle came to her eye.

  “Fine,” Drake gave in. “Could you tell me where to find the owner?”

  Ms. Jensen smiled and turned back to her coffee pot, nabbing it to pour another cup for the older gentleman approaching. “Don’t you worry. She’s not hard to find. Comes in almost every day in fact.”

  Drake thought back through the faces he had seen coming and going from the library the previous few months. He tried to place one that was a constant. Nobody stood out, none other than…

  Surely not!

  Nobody else came to mind though, so Drake sat down to wait, all the while hoping he was wrong.

  She was later than usual, but when she finally arrived, Drake sensed a difference in her before he turned her direction. Of course, it didn’t take a genius to see that she was heading straight for him.

  Or to tell that she was angry.

  “Listen,” she began in a voice barely contained to what Drake considered a normal library level. “I don’t know who you are or what you are doing here, but you need to leave.”

  “I—” Drake started to stand up, but she cut him off.

  “No, I don’t know why you would lie, but I know you don’t work at this library, so don’t try to argue. Just go!” Raegan pointed towards the door.

  “Raegan,” Drake remained seated as he spoke quietly. “Give me a moment to explain.” He didn’t think she would buy the next bit, but had to give it a try. No matter what, he needed to complete his assignment for the League. Oddly, he found he wanted to know if they were right or wrong about Raegan being their long-awaited savior. And if nothing else, he had to finish the assignment to receive the rest of his payment.

  Raegan crossed her arms and lifted one eyebrow. She glanced meaningfully at her watch and back to him.

  Drake blew out a breath and spoke. The words he’d rehearsed flowing easily. “I’m new in town. I’ve been coming to the library for a little while and couldn’t help but notice you.” Drake left out the especially since I’ve been sent to spy on you and possibly accompany you to another country comment that drifted sarcastically through his mind. “It seemed like getting a job at the library would be a good way to get to know you.”

  Both of Raegan’s eyebrows were raised and her lips pursed. Her facial expressions made it obvious she didn’t like the sound of his story. She probably pictured him as a lunatic stalker or something equally terrible. Drake watched Raegan crossing and uncrossing her arms in front of her chest, could sense her building up to another dismissal of him, so he kept speaking, faster that time.

  “I also thought Ms. Jensen ran the place alone and would be happy to have my help. I planned to ask her for a job today. Of course, much to my surprise, she insisted I needed to speak to the owner. Apparently, that is you?” He let the question linger a moment before launching into his last shot at selling her need to keep him in the library. “There seem to be a few rooms with light bulbs needing replacement. Surely, having an extra hand around to climb ladders do the heavy lifting couldn’t hurt?”

  “I still don’t think…” Before Rae could finish, there was a not-so-subtle throat clearing from her left.

  Ms. Jensen shuffled toward them.

  “Now, Raegan, I hate to admit it, but this fellow is right about there being things he could do around here.” Evie Jensen held up a hand to prevent interruption. “Ever since my dear Earl passed on, things have been slipping, and we haven’t gotten a new maintenance man yet. I’m not as young as I used to be, and boxes seem to be getting heavier every day.”

  “Please,” Drake asked humbly, bringing Raegan’s attention back to him. He held her gaze. “I’d be happy to help.”

  ***

  Raegan had listened to Drake’s fervent speech, feeling nothing more than annoyance and a little trepidation. Evie’s comment gave her pause, however.

  Not wanting to look away first, Raegan stared back at Drake for a few seconds before she finally tossed her arms to her side and gave her head a little shake, causing a few strands of her hair to escape from the bun at the top of her head. Subconsciously brushing at the loose pieces of hair, Rae considered her next words carefully. She cringed with guilt inside.

  Have I really been making things hard for Evie by not getting extra help before now? Has my precious library suffered from my reluctance to hire someone new? she wondered.

  Raega
n sighed. “Come in tomorrow at 8:00 a.m., before the library opens. After an interview, if I agree with Ms. Jensen’s assessment that you could be useful, we will discuss the terms of your employment, Mister…” She let the sentence trail as she waited for Drake to provide his surname.

  Drake, looking relieved, held out a hand. “Fletcher.”

  Raegan briefly shook his hand, then turned abruptly and left the library.

  ***

  Tuesday morning, Drake arose early and set about his morning routine automatically, mentally preparing to take on Raegan again, convinced she would have changed her mind. He could tell she wasn’t happy with being cajoled into hiring him by Ms. Jensen. And speaking of Ms. Jensen, wasn’t she an odd duck? He couldn’t quite figure her out, but he had no doubt thanks were owed to her for pulling him out of the fire the day before.

  He reached into the mini fridge in the small loft kitchen and snagged an apple. While the apple wasn’t nearly as delicious as the carrageen moss pudding with raspberries that he preferred, it temporarily satisfied his sweet tooth. Drake ambled to the closet and considered his next move, working at a library. That, of course, assumed he could convince Raegan to hire him against her better judgement.

  And he better convince her. There were only three weeks before another report was due.

  He picked up a pair of dark-wash jeans from the shelf, stepped into them, and turned to find a shirt. Black t-shirt in hand, Drake went back to the kitchen, taking another bite from his apple and straddling a bar stool to look out the window. The library was right across the street of his rented loft apartment. Directly in his sight were broad stone steps leading up to the library’s double wooden doors, doors which were carved with scenes of assorted fictional characters and species.

  With the sun barely beginning to rise to roof-top level, he knew there were a few more minutes before he needed to leave for his meeting. He hoped the new library job would give him an opportunity to get information out of Raegan about her past. There was nothing anywhere he researched that indicated she was indeed the woman he was sent to find, but there was also nothing to contradict it. Basically, there was nothing about her anywhere.