Page 14 of Starlight Witch

CHAPTER SIX

Next morning, with Fancypants on my shoulder, I walked over to May’s house. I owned three acres of land, but Bran and his mother May had five. They kept a suburban farm, and they raised all sorts of goods for the local farmers market. They sold honey year-round, if their stash held out that long, and fruits and vegetables and other things every season except winter. The trail connecting our two parcels of land was spacious. Once I had bought my house and met May and Bran, Bran helped me widen the path. He had plans to go through, placing stepping stones so that when it rained it wouldn’t be a mud pit.

It occurred to me that when Bran I got married, we could live in my house, and Bran would still be steps away from the farm and his mother. But there were so many logistics to figure out, and if Faron joined us, the complications only grew. As the head of the Olympic Wolfpack, he wouldn’t be able to live off the commune. I knew Bran wouldn’t want to move there, and honestly, I liked my house. So there were a lot of questions to answer. But we’d take them one at time, as they came. Life was hard enough without borrowing trouble.

The day was overcast, but rain was expected to hold off until evening. Right now, the clouds parted and sunbreaks peered through the gloom, letting the cool autumn light filter through. Woodsmoke drifted on the currents, the scent mirroring the mood of the day.

I loved these crisp autumn days. They felt so vibrant, stirring my blood and making me glad to be alive. As we walked in silence—even Fancypants was noticeably quiet—leaves crunched under my feet. Along the sides of the path, still more leaves had gathered. Most of the undergrowth was like that, thick layers of debris carpeting the forest floor. Old needles from the trees mingled with fresh autumn leaves and the ever-present moss that grew on everything in the woodland. The trunks of the trees wore sweaters of velvet moss, and still more moss—oak moss—hung down like soft beards trailing from the branches of the tall conifers.

Birdsong echoed through the air. I liked to think they were discussing sheltering from the storms, and hunting the worms that popped up from the rains, drawn to the surface like long brown serpents. The wind had eased up and now was a steady, gentle breeze, whispering through the barren trees. Their stark silhouettes rose into the air where, at night, they cast a ghostly shadow through the forest, standing sentinel over everything that walked beneath their watchful gaze.

Fancypants looked around, his gaze flickering every which way. “The forest is so beautiful. What will winter be like? I don’t know what to expect since this is my first year out of the egg, although I can see some memories you have stored away. Nothing personal, just shadowed images of the forest wrapped in white.”

“For one thing, the weather will be a lot colder than it is now. And yes, we usually get snow here. That’s also cold, although it melts when you hold it too long. Just be sure to wear the boots that I bought you.” I had custom boots made for Fancypants to fit his odd little feet. They wouldn’t rip from his talons, but I wasn’t sure how dragonettes handled the weather when it got too cold and I didn’t want him to freeze.

“I know what snow is,” he said. “But how much do you get? Does touching it make it melt?” He sounded excited.

I knew that once he went out in the snow, it would be hard to get him to come back inside. Dragonettes were playful, and Fancypants delighted in new finds.

“It depends. Snow’s not a static event. Some years there will be almost none, another year still so much it’s hard to drive through. It’s beautiful while it’s still fresh, but when it starts to melt near spring, it’s not nearly as fun. It gets slushy and dirty and there comes a point where all you want is for it to go away.”

We were near the end of the trail, and we came out near May’s house. I could hear the sounds coming from down the trail, where they were working on the barn. It was mostly rebuilt, but Bran had decided to add in a few conveniences they hadn’t had before. The outer shell of the barn was complete, and they were close to finishing the inside walls and stalls. I considered going over to say hi, but I decided to wait. I needed to talk to May instead, anyway.

I turned toward the house, which was only a few minutes from the barn, toward the front of the lot. The farmhouse was beautiful, two stories and freshly painted white with red trim. As I darted up the front porch steps, Fancypants flew off my shoulder and landed on the porch swing. I rang the bell and waited. I was good-enough friends with May to be able to go inside without knocking, but it always seemed awkward to me and I didn’t feel comfortable barging in on anybody that way.

May opened the door, her hair pulled up in a chignon. She was wearing a linen pants suit, which surprised me. Usually, May wore jeans and a floral top, or a gauzy skirt and tank top. She always wore an apron over the top of both, except when she was out in public. Today, the apron had gone missing.

“Elphyra! I’m so glad you’re here. I was going to come over and visit you after I changed clothes. Come in,” she said, standing back to open the door.

I gave her a hug. “May, how are you? You look like you’ve been out and about.”

“I had to go talk to our lawyers for a while, as well as the insurance company. It never hurts to dress up so that they don’t treat you like a local yokel. Especially when you’re a woman. Now, come in. Do you want some coffee?” She ushered me into the house, pointing toward the kitchen. “There’s a fresh pie on the counter. You know how to work the espresso machine. Or if you want plain coffee, we have that as well. Fix yourself something and I’ll be back in a moment.”

As she headed off toward her bedroom, I peeled off into the kitchen. Fancypants had decided to stay outside for the moment, so it was just me. I fixed myself a triple-shot latte, and got a generous slice of pie. I foraged through the refrigerator and added a couple slices of cheese. I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and I was hungry.

I sat down at the country kitchen table, watching as thin rays of sunlight pierced through the stained-glass sun catcher, fracturing into prisms that bounced around the room. The farmhouse was so comfortable that it made me want to move in and never leave. But I needed my own home. Bran could make up his mind. If we got married, I’d prefer to live in the same house, but if he needed to live here with his mother that would be fine. We could work around it however we wanted to.

When May returned, she was dressed in her usual jeans and a comfortable-looking cashmere sweater. She tied an apron around her waist, then poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with me.

“How’s the pie?” she asked.

I took a bite. Cinnamon mixed with brown sugar mixed with apple filled my mouth. I closed my eyes and sighed, appreciating every bite. “This is so good. You make the best pies. Someday, will you teach me your secrets?”

“Of course. It’s all in the crust, and in knowing the proportions to mix together. So, I see the ring on your finger. I’m so excited for you and Bran. I’m thrilled to have you for my daughter-in-law. But I ask you one thing: don’t hurt him. I understand the predicament you’re in with Faron and Bran—he told me about it. I don’t claim to be entirely comfortable with the situation, but it’s between the three of you. I only pray that Bran doesn’t end up with a broken heart.”

I stared at my latte, then took another bite of apple pie. “I promise I won’t hurt him. I do love him, May. I didn’t think I’d fall in love with him, but it came fast and hard. And I can’t imagine not having him in my life.”

“And Faron?”

“I love Faron. At least…” I paused, debating whether to voice what was creeping around deep inside.

“You can talk to me,” May said.

“Okay…I love Faron. At least, I think I do. My heart hurts to think of being without him. But I’m wondering…is that love enhanced by the guilt I feel over his injuries? He was hurt helping my friend. He was hurt right after—almost directly after—we became intimate. Do I love him because it’s been so long with no resolution? I don’t even know if I’m making any sense.” I hung my head, frustrated. The sneaking thought that my love for Faron might be an illusion brought about by guilt and the constant waiting had started to take hold after seeing him the other day, but I didn’t want to face those thoughts.

“I promise you, I won’t throw Bran over regardless of what happens. If Faron were to express his undying love for me, but at the expense of Bran, I’d walk away. If he can’t accept Bran in my life, I’ll walk away. Bran’s been here for me since I moved in. Maybe not romantically, but that grew out of our friendship. I love him. Please never doubt that.”

“So, you’re questioning your feelings toward Faron?”

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