Page 14 of A Heart of Winter
Somehow, Kai and I had sat up late talking about literature of all things. Apparently in order to become a lawyer, it wasn’t uncommon to be incredibly well-read, and he was that. He’d read everything from Nathaniel Hawthorne to Alice Walker, he could have an intelligent conversation about it all.
Even better, it seemed that he was a fan of fantasy novels for his out of school reading choices. It wasn’t a hard and fast rules, but if a person liked to read about magic, I thought maybe they wouldn’t be unhappy to learn that it was real.
The next morning, though, the drive had been plowed, and he had needed to go into town to meet with someone about his parents’ things. Since the house was going to be sold in thirty days, he needed to get it emptied out.
All that led me to where I was: the tourist trap shops on Main Street in town, looking for a wool blanket.
Kai had recommended the specific shop, said that they made blankets from local wool, and that wool made the best of blankets. I remembered having wool blankets in my childhood, and I had always preferred them to furs, since no animals had to die for a wool blanket.
I hadn’t ever considered the possibility that the modern era hadn’t come up with something better than wool, though. What about chenille? That was nice and soft, even if it didn’t last for decades like hardy wool.
Either way, we were in Minnesota, and dealing with constant snow. Warm was probably more important than anything else.
Maybe.
I really did like soft things, though. Fortunately, wool was a lot softer now than it had been in my childhood. It helped that I no longer had to be the one to spin the stuff. Machines were far superior to my skill at that job.
I was petting a selection of blankets in various tartan shades, since it seemed that the locals were quite attached to plaid. Neither Kai nor myself had any particular plaid for our families, but I did like a sage green, cream, and rose combination they had. Or maybe I should match the cabin’s rustic decor, and buy a red and black one.
“Youmustbe Johannes,” a throaty female voice said from somewhere near me, and I looked up to find an enchanting creature with pastel pink hair. She looked like some sort of fae, with sparkling blue eyes, perfect skin, and a tiny rosebud mouth with fuchsia lipstick. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, but honestly, you’ve got to be him. Beautiful, white hair, excellent taste in clothes . . . and staying in this town. Can’t be more than one of you out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“I am Johannes,” I agreed, holding out my hand to shake. On the off chance she was some fae creature, it seemed best to be forthright and honest, and not leave anything to the imagination. “And you are?”
That was when I noticed the sour-faced woman behind her, glaring at me as though I was a diseased creature touching something holy.
“No, wait. Let me guess. Gerda?”
“I am! Don’t tell me Kai’s been wasting his time talking about me when he’s clearly met his future husband.” She took my hand firmly, shaking it as she looked me over. “Honestly, you couldn’t be more perfect for him if you were trying.”
Warmth suffused my cheeks, and I couldn’t hold back a smile at her complete lack of interest in following a standard social script. She reminded me of Morwenna, a little, when we’d been much younger.
Come to think of it, she fairly glowed with magic—much more than the average human. She could be trained as a witch, almost certainly, if she had the will for it. That much magic was rare, and it hadn’t come from her nearly-non-magical mother.
“That’s so kind of you,” I said, since I couldn’t just throw magic out there to someone who’d doubtless been raised mundane. “I have to admit, I’ve been rather taken with him myself. He’s, ah, planning to stay at my friend’s cabin with me while getting the house ready for the sale.”
“Sale?” her mother fairly screeched, and both of us winced at her volume. “What do you meansale?”
My breath caught, and I realized maybe I’d made a horrible mistake. Maybe Kai hadn’t wanted his neighbors to know that he was planning?—
“Mom.” Gerda’s tone was as flat as the fields of nearby North Dakota. “The house has a for sale sign in front of it. Has for days now. Did you honestly think Kai was going to move back tothe middle of nowhere? He’s building a career in California, not planning on being a small town lawyer who makes out wills for farmers in Minnesota.”
“His parentshome,” the older woman went on in the same high, loud tone, and other shoppers were pausing to listen. “How could he abandon all they spent their lives to build up?”
I was a little embarrassed, since I was the clear target of the anger, as the sort of . . . other man? But Gerda, well, she was deeply unimpressed. “Kai’s parents spent their lives buildinghimup Mom. Giving him the tools to make something of himself. Of his life. They were so proud of him being a big time lawyer in California that they told everyone in town about it. You don’t get to twist reality just because you want it to be different.” She turned back to me, where she was still clutching my hand, and squeezed it tight. “I’m so sorry for this. I’d love to have lunch sometime, but we should go so I can spare you the full on adult temper tantrum. Have Kai give you my number. Or hey, we could all have lunch together.”
With one last squeeze, she turned and ushered her mother out, while the older woman was still hissing nastiness about how it was Kai’s “place” to come home, and that I was “coming between them.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at that as Gerda shot a look over her shoulder, complete with rolled eyes, then held her hand up in the signal that universally meant “call me.” I nodded and turned back to my blankets.
He’s clearly met his future husband, she’d said. Me. She meant me, as Kai’s future husband.
I’d been thinking we should get to know each other better before taking time to date long distance, but apparently Gerda thought it was even more than that. Gerda, who Kai had called his best friend. His own Morwenna, maybe.
Oh hell.
I was in so much deeper than I’d realized. And I still needed to find a way to talk to Gerda about her magical potential. Not that I’d proven the best teacher. Maybe I could talk Morwenna into doing it.
Language Lessons
