Page 137 of Dream Weaver

Off times also meant reading Claire bedtime stories, then waiting in bed for Abby to finish her turn. After that came studiously quiet sex, what with Claire just down the hall. Then I would head off to work again, changing gears back to that high-speed time warp of firefighting.

The Yavapai Hotshots fought fires all over the West, earning a reputation as the “on fire” crew of the season — pun totally intended. A lucky crew armed with axes that sang in our hands and roared right back at blazing fires, or so some of the crew claimed.

I kept my mouth shut on that one. But when it came to toasting their creator, I was all in.

The original ax had been recovered from Lisa’s house and returned to cheers from the entire crew. Needless to say, it went everywhere with us.

But as far as I was concerned, the luckiest ax was mine — the very last one Abby had forged. She’d etched a roaring bear face into the blade, and anytime a fire raged too close for comfort… Well, let’s just say the fire rapidly retreated.

We crossed paths with the Pine Ridge crew several times, so I still got to work with my siblings, cousins, and other family members. At the same time, I’d gained two new families — the Yavapai crew and Abby’s wonderfully eccentric family. I loved going home to them. And if the three sisters were a tight sorority, we three guys — Ingo, Nash, and I — quickly grew close too.

So, yes. Home and family. Days were full, and nights passed in deep, peaceful sleep.

I still had dreams about leaving Peter behind. But I had other dreams too, like catching Claire just in the nick of time at that electrified fence. That didn’t make up for my brother, but it provided a little perspective, in a way. A little more peace.

Peter, I figured, wouldn’t mind me thinking such things. And I was sure he would have approved when fire season finally tapered to an end and I got to go home and stay there. Home, in Sedona.

“You think you’ll even remember how to relax after a season as hard as that?” Nash asked my first week back.

Relaxing hadn’t been my concern. Magic was. But I quickly concluded that living on a ranch surrounded by vortexes was pretty okay. Idyllic, even.

I laughed. “I’m a bear shifter. Downtime is our specialty.”

Still, I found myself plenty busy, between work on the ranch, helping Abby in the metal shop from time to time, and my own projects — especially the one I’d mapped out in my head during the long fire season. Nash helped me with it some afternoons, and even Claire had pitched in at times. When it was done, we had a big unveiling — Pippa’s idea.

“Any excuse for a party,” she joked.

She set up balloons and a long red ribbon that Claire cut for the grand opening.

Mike whistled. “Now that’s what I call a playground.”

“Sure is,” my father murmured, giving me a proud wink.

Yes, my parents had come down from Wyoming to visit me in my new home. It wasn’t Thanksgiving yet, but it felt like it. They hadn’t been all too sure about the witch thing, but Claire — and Abby’s firefighting background — had won them over in no time.

We all stood back, admiring the new playground — everyone but Claire, who raced off to test the monkey bars, slide, rope bridge, and jump stumps.

“Oh my gosh. It’s great!” Pippa gushed.

Her father, Greg, nudged her. “Space for lots more kids, you know.”

“Dad.” She stretched the word to four syllables and rolled her eyes.

He stuck up his hands. “Just saying.”

“The man has a point,” Mike chimed in. “You don’t want Claire growing up all spoiled. She has to learn to share.”

Yes, those two had a clear agenda when it came to the next steps in their daughters’ lives.

Abby wasn’t half as vocal as the others, but I could tell by the way her eyes shone that she loved the playground. Doubly so since she’d never had anything like it as a kid.

I hugged her, because that had been part of my goal, too — letting Abby catch up on some of the things she’d missed out on herself.

My sister, who’d also come to visit, pointed at us and laughed. “You two look cute in those shirts.”

My mom had followed a long family tradition by bringing us early Christmas gifts — matching flannel shirts, one for every member of the family, even Claire.

So, cute? I grimaced. Maybe.

---