Page 2 of Fragile Sanctuary

It was one of the reasons he’d moved us to Sparrow Falls. Even though he had a big job as a financial planner to lots of hotshot businesspeople, he hadn’t wanted us to get sucked into that world. So, he’d moved us here. Finally, I wasn’t mad about it.

Fallon threw her arms around me in a huge hug, grabbing me tightly. “I don’t know how you’re going to sleep.”

Another laugh bubbled out of me. “I probably won’t.”

Unfastening my seat belt, I clambered out of the SUV. “Thanks for driving me home, Mrs. Colson.”

“Anytime, Rhodes,” she said as the front door to my house opened.

“Thanks, Nora,” my mom called from the doorway.

Mrs. Colson gave Mom a wave and a smile. With as much time as Fallon and I spent together, they were used to this back-and-forth trade-off of kids. “Want to hit up yoga tomorrow afternoon?”

“Only if we can make a stop at the bakery afterward,” Mom shot back.

Mrs. Colson laughed. “You always have the best ideas.”

I jumped down, my sandal-clad feet hitting the gravel. The full moon illuminated the house in a silvery hue. My mom had fallen in love with the ancient Victorian on a trip out here with my dad. He’d, of course, found a way to make it hers.

I’d always been a little self-conscious of the structure with its separate guesthouse that sat on a good twenty acres, the nearest neighbor barely visible. It was different than most of the other homes in Sparrow Falls. The downtown area was full of adorable Craftsman-style creations. Outside the town limits, you found sprawling ranch homes.

But as I practically skipped up the walkway, I had to admit the house was beautiful. It looked like something out of a fairy tale with towers and steeples. But even with all its intricate beauty, it never felt cold. Part of that was the sprawling gardens my mom workedtirelessly at maintaining. But more than that, it was the love inside the home’s walls.

The moment I was within arm’s reach, my mom pulled me into her embrace. She squeezed me hard, rocking me back and forth.

“Mom,” I protested, but it was muffled against her chest.

“Let me have this moment,” she argued. “My baby went to herfirstboy-girl party. Before I know it, you’ll be driving, drinking, and moving out of the house.”

I groaned. “I’m thirteen, not thirty.”

Mom sniffed exaggeratedly as she released me but slipped her arm around my shoulders. “I’m going to blink, and you’ll be there.”

I just shook my head. “We’ve still got some time. Breathe.”

My mom laughed. “I’ll try. Come on. I made cocoa.”

It didn’t matter that the days were slipping into the seventies and eighties; I’d take my mom’s hot cocoa anytime. It was the kind she made from actual cocoa powder, mixing in sugar and other secret ingredients. Plus, as hot as the days could get in the high desert of Central Oregon, the nights got cold.

“Marshmallows?” I asked hopefully.

She grinned down at me. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“Definitely not,” I said with an echoing smile.

My mom kept her arm around me as we walked through the entryway and down the hall toward the kitchen. Intricate woodwork bracketed us on both sides, but it all acted as a sort of frame for the whimsical wallpaper. This hallway was home to a magical fairy scene, complete with a sparkly sheen to the fairies’ wings.

When my dad had seen Mom’s choice, he’d simply shaken his head and grinned. “My girl has to make it magic.”

As we reached the kitchen, the faint scent of chocolate teased my nose, and Mom finally released me. I slid onto a stool at the wide kitchen island and wrapped my hands around theAlice in Wonderland-esque mug with its misshapen body and curlicue handle.

I closed my eyes and took a testing sip. The perfect balance of chocolate and sugar hit my tongue. “The best,” I mumbled.

When I opened my eyes, it was to find my mom studying me.Her gaze roamed over my face in slow sweeps as if she were excavating the surface layer by layer to discover what hid behind it. I had the sudden urge to bolt for my room.

Then she began blinking rapidly as her eyes shone. Panic skidded through me. “Mom?”

She waved her hand in front of her face. “It’s nothing. I’m just emotional. My little girl’s growing up.”

---