Page 38 of A Spell for Midwinter's Heart
Had it all been a painful delusion—a by-product of the manufactured romance of the season? Aches of longing washed over her in waves, only to be pushed out by hot flashes of shame. Shame that she had imagined that someone like him might be into someone like her, and even more shame that she had abandoned her actual mission, her important work, overstupid feelings for an even stupider guy.
And what had that business been with the avalanche? She had lost control again, allowed instinct to overwhelm intelligence again.
She shook her head. It was time to stop fixating on this. With a rough wipe of tissue across her eyes, she forced her brain out ofthe realm of silly romantic fantasies and back to where it belonged—Elk Ridge, the festival, her family. Things that mattered. Things that were real.
Things that make sense. He and I don’t make sense.
With a deep breath, she fidgeted, running her thumb over her fingertips, as she said, “The plan, Rowan. We need a new plan.”
Her old plan had been to find Gavin and recruit him—to ask him about Goshen Group’s interest in the commercial building, and to find out whatever else he might know. Three days ago, she’d never have imagined he’d divulge the details of his father’s business, but their run-ins had led her to believe he was a potential ally.
Funny how quickly that had crumbled away. Perhaps he had a sincere attachment to the festival because of his mother, but it clearly wasn’t enough. Not when it came in conflict with his loyalty to his father, his pragmatic evaluation of the town’s financial future, and a sense of obligation to his, to his—her breath shook as she tried to complete the thought.
His what? His date? His girlfriend? His future tradwifey who’ll cook his every meal and bear him beautiful children whom she dresses in outfits as improbably tidy and stylish as her own?
Rowan almost spiraled back out on those thoughts but stopped herself. It didn’t matter why that door had shut, only that she would need to figure out how to do this without him.
A quiet, hurting voice inside whispered,But I don’t want to.
“Too bad,” she replied.
A spell emerged from the recesses of her mind like a dusty book nudged off a high shelf. It was one she’d used for focus in high school.A Spell for a Clear Mind.
Though her nervous system throbbed in warning, she lowered herself to the floor, excavating her spell chest. As she searched its contents for what she needed, she couldn’t help but think about how different college would have been with the spell. Maybe shewouldn’t have failed out of engineering, and her life wouldn’t have become an endless string of failures.
Maybe she’d have made some kind of difference by now, instead of simply torpedoing the efforts of others.
With a petite mason jar in hand, she breathed in deeply. As the air filled her lungs, she pictured Gavin’s face, and then Hayleigh’s, and finally the image of the two of them kissing in front of the inn. Placing the jar against her lips, she exhaled, sending the thoughts with the air. When she’d blown out as much as possible, she capped the jar in a swift twist. Crossing to the window and throwing open the sash, she chanted,
Clear my heart, clear my head,
Banish distraction, worry, and dread.
By the power of three by three,
As I do will it, so mote it be.
Then she removed the cap and released the thoughts into the night where they wouldn’t be able to trouble her until they found their way home. The spell wouldn’t last forever, but she’d have a few hours of respite. Her mind cleared, and though the dull ache remained, she no longer fixed on replaying the scene.
Able to examine the situation from a distance now, she realized this turn of events had been for the best. Even if Gavin had been attracted to her, where would it have gone from there? A vacation hookup? With the son of the man conspiring to drive her family out of Elk Ridge? Talk about a conflict of interest.
No, this was for the best. It changed the plan, but that meant she needed to come up with a new plan. One that did not involve annoyingly handsome former rivals with kind eyes.
“Okay, Rowan,” she murmured. “Where to go from here?”
She relaxed, and her mind traveled, tripping across lines of thought until one of them vibrated clear and bright.
There had been a flaw in her old plan. It relied on Gavin knowing everything the Goshen Group was up to—which was a lot to presume. It was possible not even Dennis was fully aware of what the company had planned. The only people party to that information were the corporate reps, and they would not be eager to give up the truth.
“So, what do I do, then?” she asked, worrying her thumbnail between her front teeth.
Truth. Her grandmother had been notoriously impossible to lie to.
A memory bubbled up—young Rowan gazing in horror at a ragged scratch in the polished runners of her grandmother’s stately old Victorian home. At dinner, Grandmother Madeleine had asked who was responsible, and Rowan kept her mouth shut tight. When no one spoke up, the old woman had gone around the table, asking each person directly if they were responsible. Rowan had rehearsed an alibi, but when Grandmother Madeleine’s eyes landed on her, she’d opened her mouth and a full confession tumbled out, as if caught in a gale.
A Spell for the Whole Truth.It was impossible to lie if you were under its effects. If she cast it on a Goshen Group representative, they would be forced to divulge their plans.
The spell would be in her grandmother’s grimoire, stowed in the attic since the funeral. Before she could think better of it, Rowan was on her feet, stealing into the night.
