Page 87 of Love's a Witch
And I would never know if I didn’t at least try.
“Seriously?” Nova sucked in a breath.
“Aye.” I nodded, surprised when both my sisters jumped up and piled on top of me, squealing. Their sudden attack sent Blue into a tizzy and he wheeled around the room, barking loudly between little shots of fire, and we all screeched as he nearly burned our hair off.
“Blue, buddy, come here.” I waved him over so he would stop singeing us, and he slammed onto our cuddle pile, worming himself in between all of us, his tongue slathering my face with smoky-smelling saliva. “Ewww.”
“Do we have Knox to thank for this change of heart?” Broca asked as we righted ourselves on the couch. Did they?
“Nobody’s perfect, Sloane. And I like your sharp edges. They challenge me. I don’t need everything in my life to come easily to me.”
Yes, Knox Douglas was definitely one reason I wanted to try to stay.
“A bit, maybe.” I shrugged, uncertain how to articulate all the feelings pinging around inside me. “It’s just… he really seems to think we can break this curse. He’s full on. And he carries this absolute conviction that everything will work out for him. It’s hard not to be swayed when someone like that tells you everything is going to be just fine.”
“His track record is pretty good so far. He’s not a bad guy to have on our side.” Broca waved a hand in the air. “Now let your sister go shower. We need to pick out our outfits for later.”
“Are you going too?” I asked Broca as I rose.
“Of course. One doesn’t miss a festival simply because one has a bad hip. Knox has commissioned a sleigh just for me.”
I winced, having a good idea just where that sleigh had come from, and dearly hoped it would be drawn by regular horses thistime. Retreating to my room before I had to answer any other questions, I stopped by the window to look out at Briarhaven. Gray clouds blanketed the sky, a permanent fixture these days, and snow barreled down relentlessly. My neighbor frowned at me and raised his hand. It was just a quick jerk, but for the first time, he waved. A salute almost.
To my surprise, the gesture brought hot, sharp tears to my eyes. Returning it, I ducked into the shower and laid my cheek against the wall while the warm water sluiced down my back, mirroring the tears that ran the length of my face.
The hardest thing to admit, at least to myself, was that I wanted this more than anyone. It was easier to avoid the painful memories here, to stay on the move, and to never set down roots. Settling down in one spot was a siren song I’d long evaded. Even the thought of having a chance to start over here, to make a real life for ourselves, was enough to crack open the lid on those long-ago-buried dreams.
My own house.
A love life.
A family, even.
Such simple things, and I know my ancestors before me had managed them, but they’d had to do so always on the go. We made the best of it, us MacGregors, but we were not nomads at heart. We were made for quiet mornings and restful routines. Easy friendships and cozy fires and weekly meetups with friends. My soul craved it, but I’d ignored these needs for so long because I’d had no other choice.
But now it seemed like I did. Hope was dangerous, I knew, because it made you believe that another way could be possible.
And yet.
Andyet.
Was I just going to repeat this cycle the rest of my life? Dragging my sisters along with me? Forever on the move, forever saying goodbye, forever unhappy? It went against everything that I’d been taught, but now was the time to stay.
To stay and fight.
Broca said I was powerful.
And I believed in Broca. My silly, impossibly elegant, steadfast grandmother. I’d do this. Even if it hurt. Even if it made me uncomfortable. Even if the whole town ended up hating us.
By the time I’d returned downstairs, hair dried, resolve hardened, Lyra had laid out our outfits.
“What in the world?”
“Aren’t they great?” Lyra beamed at me from where she stood over three pink tartan ski suits. Like the one-piece ski suits from the ’80s, with a zipper up the front. I gaped at her.
“Seriously?”
“I promise. We’re going to look super cute. Plus, with these hats?” Lyra held up a white knit hat with a matching pink pom-pom on top.
