Page 66 of A Spell for Midwinter's Heart
“Is that good?” he asked.
“Very good.” She allowed herself to relax into him, and everything she’d been holding on to slowly melted away.
“I expected you to be tense…But this is impressive, Midwinter.”
She shot a reply over her shoulder. “Some of us can’t afford to hire professionals to do this, McCreery.”
“Mmm. This is all from work?”
“Other than the new knots fromthis week…Yes. I…don’t have much else going on.”
“Nonprofit work’s all-consuming. Doubly so trying to tackle what you’ve taken on.”
She nodded, hit by an upswell of guilt at the thought of the SunlightCorps. Memories of the fundraiser rushed back, chased by shame. If they hadn’t raised enough, it was her fault. Lorena had trusted her, everyone had trusted her, even Dade, who had every reason not to—and it had been a mistake.
She hadn’t deserved their trust.
It was impossible not to think of all the spells that might have helped. She could have used spells to boost her voice, to memorize the cards, or to put them back in order when they’d fallen.
But I might have also used spells to force them to donate, bent them to my will.
A choked sob came out of her throat.
His hands snapped away. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” But tears dripped from her eyes, ending a years-long streak of not crying in front of another person.
“You are not fine.” He stopped, turning her around to face him.
She tried to put words to it, but when she tried, more tears came out instead. He pulled her in close, simply holding her until she got it all out. His chin rested on her head; his arms wound around her. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d been holding in, and for how long. At least since her grandmother had died, but maybe since that night eight years ago, when everything inside her twisted into one solid knot.
It had been so easy to get swept up, but if she ever truly embraced her magic, people would look at her the same way they had her grandmother. And if Gavin ever got any hint of it, he would hate her.
As much as I hate myself.
She wiped her eyes and pulled her way free from his arms to shoot him an awkward smile. He studied her quietly.
“Sorry,” she said. “I think I killed the mood.”
“It’s really okay.”
Lightly nudging him with her elbow, she said, “Did you know your sexy shoulder rubs had the power to make the ladies break down completely?”
Laughing lightly, he said, “It’s a first for me.”
“I’m honored,” she joked, but she couldn’t help feeling like wacky Rowan Midwinter and not whatever version of Rowan he had wanted to go into a sauna with. She needed to hold it together, so that he didn’t see too much.
With a spike of anxiety, she glanced around the sauna, looking for any evidence that the moment they’d shared had made her magic go wild again.
But nothing had changed. At least she’d gotten a handle on that.
An insistent knock at the door sent them scooting apart from one another. A loud male voice called out, “Everyone decent in there?”
Gavin’s face widened in surprise as he called back, “Dad?”
Dennis McCreery’s voice filled the room as he scarfed down kransenkake and swilled coffee.
“So, imagine my surprise when I heard ski patrol had been called out to take my son to Aelfhome on Christmas Eve, with a guest no less.” At that, he glanced at Rowan, and she swore she caught his eyes narrowing.
