Page 16 of Whiskey & Witches

Aeden’s expression remained closed as he studied the inside of her tiny cottage from the doorway. He narrowed his eyes on a small blue blanket by the bed.

A replica of his.

The baby blanket didn’t hold his scent, of course, but it comforted Roisin all the same on the nights when she couldn’t hold her son and sing him to sleep.

Seeming to forget or outright ignore his father’s dictate that he remain by the door, Aeden moved toward the bed.

Carrick caught him up in his arms before he reached his goal. “What did I tell ya?” he growled.

Fixing his face in stubborn lines, Aeden gestured to the bed. “Mine,” he croaked.

“Similar,” Roisin acknowledged. “But not exactly the same.”

Following the direction of Aeden’s pointing index finger, Carrick crossed and picked up the blanket. He handed it off to their son without comment, but his concerned gaze locked on her across the short distance. The baby blanket on her pillow was telling. Raw emotions closed her throat, and she wanted to sob for all she’d lost. Unable to bear the weight of his worry, she looked away.

“I think you should come back to the house tonight, Roisin,” he said. “You can’t sleep under an open roof and subject yourself to the elements.”

Panicked that Carrick had slipped and used her real name, she looked at Aeden. Her son watched her with an old soul’s eyes. He either hadn’t noticed the mistake, or he knew exactly who she was. Their stare-off ended with Aeden clasping the blanket to his chest and resting his head on his father’s shoulder.

Roisin weighed the pros and cons of returning home and found she just couldn’t do it. If she went back, she’d never want to leave when the time came. She wasn’t strong enough to abandon Aeden a second time, regardless of the reason.

“I’m afraid this scarred face of mine might cause poor Aeden nightmares should he encounter me in the dark,” she said in a false teasing tone. “It’s probably best I stay here.”

Aeden immediately averted his face and curled into Carrick, wrapping his arms around his da’s neck.

To hide her reaction to her son’s rejection, she turned her attention to the floor and counted the bent nails. Cleaning didn’t take much magic, but healing the sole of a foot after it was punctured would. Closing her eyes, she held out her hands, palms down, and brought them together with a loud clap. Flickering gold light solidified into the shape of a broom and swept all the debris into a neat mound. Waving a hand, she manipulated the broom to push the entire pile outside and to the left of the entry to prevent anyone from mistakenly stepping on it.

“’Twas a grand trick, Ro,” Carrick said with a light laugh. “What I wouldn’t give to have a bit of that power. Perhaps I might have my stories write themselves as I lazed about all day.”

She gave him a small smile but didn’t respond. His lack of magical ability was an old joke between them. He always conjured creative scenarios of what he’d do if he could.

“It’s probably best if you get Aeden home to bed now, Carrick. It’s been an eventful night.”

Her husband stared at her for a long moment, and all the things they couldn’t resolve were in his eyes. She wanted to tell him not to come back. Contrarily, she wanted to beg him to take her with him. But mostly, she wanted to turn back the clock ten months to a time when they were exceedingly happy. A time when her boy was always laughing and joyful.

Carrick knewhe was being obstinate in trying to get Roisin to come home after all this time. He’d been the one to insist she stay away so she didn’t terrify Aeden worse. Yet, their son didn’t seem scared of her now, and the damage to the cottage was substantial.

And Carrick missed her dreadfully.

He missed many things. The sunshine her laughter brought. The warmth of her smile. Her passion for life—both in and out of bed. But the thing he missed the most was the constant companionship. Until this year, they’d always been in sync. From the day they’d met, they’d been simpatico on every level. It was not to say they hadn’t butted heads on occasion, but they usually patched things quickly and enjoyed the make-up sex afterward.

However, that wasn’t the case these days.

“Da.” Aeden’s choked voice drew Carrick’s focus away from Roisin. “Not… afraid.”

He sought his wife’s gaze. Her pain and longing were difficult to witness, and he extended his hand for hers. She quickly and carefully blanked her face then crossed her arms. Once again, she’d effectively shut him out. She tended to do that a lot lately, and it broke his fecking heart. His beautiful, open wife was a closed book, a distant stranger. The one woman who understood his soul, who never resented when the creative muse ensnared him and who loved him with every fiber of her being, had shut the cover and shelved their love story.

All because Carrick had insisted they put Aeden’s needs above hers. Wasn’t that what good parents were supposed to do? Take care of their children before themselves? And didn’t that make him angry and bitter? They were broken, the two of them, their binding cracked, and he didn’t know how to repair the damage. A man whose living was made with words found it next to impossible to find the ones needed to bridge the gap and heal their relationship.

The accident and Aeden’s resulting fear had frayed the ties of their marriage. Maybe his bravery would help Carrick rebind those ties and resurrect what once was.

“That’s my boy,” he said as he rubbed his son’s boney back, barely managing to curb a wince at the feel of Aeden’s knobby spine. Most days, he had to encourage his son to eat. His cooking wasn’t anywhere near as good as Roisin’s, and Aeden was picky about his food. “How about we invite your—uh, Meg back to the house for the night until we can repair this roof of hers?”

A tremor shot through Aeden’s body, and he stiffened his arms in an effort to be away from Carrick.

“Lies,” Aeden whispered angrily.

Carrick’s heart stumbled in its steady beating. He placed Aeden on the table next to Roisin then tilted up his tiny, pointed chin so he could meet his angry gaze. “Explain.”

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