Page 37 of The Woodsmoke Women's Book of Spells
It’s not until the party is in full swing and everyone’s bellies are stuffed with sugar that Cora notices. Carrie, hovering on the edges, never quite joins in. Cora dries her hands on a tea towel as she watches Jess dash from tree to tree in the orchard, two boys chasing her, three other girls laughing and trying to snatch the tag from her belt loop. They played this game in the playground when she was a girl, and she can remember so vividly being like Carrie. Awkward. Unsure. Unable to step in and be like the rest of the children.
Jess pulls Carrie into the game, gasping for breath from all that darting around, and the Gray boy... is it Thomas?... holds out the tag to Carrie. She blushes and shrugs, tucks it into her belt loop, and raises her chin in a look of pure Morgan grit. Cora smiles as Carrie runs off, leading the others merrily around the old apple trees. She wonders if there is something there. Perhaps Carrie just needs a nudge over the next couple of years.
She chews her lip, picturing that day in this very kitchen when she mixed up those love potions with Jess and Carrie.
What if...
What if she turned that Gray boy’s head toward her Carrie? Not just yet, she’s too young, but maybe in a year or so, maybe when she begins to think of boys as more than just an irritation.
It wouldn’t do any harm, Cora is sure of that. And if Carrie has both a school sweetheart and a best friend in this town, maybe she’ll feel like she fits in. Cora hums to herself as she cuts a slice of cake, leans back against the sideboard, and takes a big, contented bite.
Chapter 30
Carrie
“Jess,” I croak, finding my voice.
I step toward her, and she sniffs, scrunching up her nose. “You were expecting Tom, weren’t you? Don’t lie to me. Don’t you bloody lie.”
Her anger, hot and quick, catches me like a punch. I jerk back, blinking rapidly. “Jess, what—”
“He’s been here, hasn’t he? I know you saw each other. I know you’ve met up. Was he here again tonight? What is this, Carrie? After all these years, you want him back?”
I swallow, staring at her, the way her features are all twisted up. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes smarting, and I wonder if she’s about to cry. “Jess, that’s not—”
“Well, he’smine,” Jess says, her voice cracking. “You can’t have him. You made your choice that day you left him. Remember that? Remember your wedding day? I was there afterward. Me. I’ve been here ever since. You can’t just, you can’t justbreeze in, you can’t just changeeverything—”
“I’m not, Jess. Please, I promise I’m not,” I say quietly. She blinks, caught off guard. Surprise flares in her features, as though she wasn’t expecting me to say that, but it’s gone in an instant, quickly stamped out.
“What?”
I lick my lips, feeling the ghost of that knife of pain as I left, knowing I wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Knowing I wasleaving everything—Tom, Jess, my whole life in Woodsmoke—firmly behind. And I didn’t know if I’d ever be coming back. “I’m only here to renovate Ivy’s cottage. I guess I hoped I’d find my place here, find I belong... I don’t know. But I promise it has nothing to do with Tom.”
“You met up with him, though. You came back here, not once thinking to come and find me, but him? You met up withmyhusband.” Jess narrows her eyes, like we’re picking up a conversation that’s been going all this time. Like we haven’t been apart for a decade and we’ve been batting these words back and forth. “You made your choice, you left. I didn’t. We’re married, we have a child, we—”
“—have all the trappings. I get it. I know. You did the right thing, and the whole town loves you for it,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You stayed. That’s old news, Jess. I’m not here for him, and I think if you wereactuallyhonest with yourself, you’d know that. I haven’t carried him around with me for the past ten years. Leaving was right for both of us, and I don’t regret our breakup. It should never have gotten as far as it did; we shouldn’t have gotten engaged. I amnothere to break up your family.”
Jess tucks her hair behind her left ear, agitation marking her staccato movements. “Is that what you talked about? With him?”
I frown. “Yes. But also—”
She sucks in a breath, blinking hard. “Why? Was it closure? Couldn’t you have just come over, not all this sneaking around, discussing me and my marriage without me present?”
“Jess, come on—”
“Nothing’s changed, has it?” she says quietly. “You don’t see it. You left everything behind, your entire world. Like it was nothing. And now you expect to move back and for everything to befine. You know I can’t move in this town without hearing people talk about you, at the book club, on the school run... you’re everywhere. And yet I haven’t seen you. It’s been ten whole years, Carrie, and you went and met with Tom and not... and not...”
I close my eyes for a minute. “This isn’t about Tom at all, is it.”
“No. No, I guess it’s not,” she says, blinking quickly.
“I left you.”
Jess draws in a haggard breath, pressing her fingertips to the dark smudges under her eyes, and says nothing.
I gather my thoughts as I stare at a point over her shoulder. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? I left, and you can’t see past it. But you have to understand, I was always on the edges here. Because of my family, because of what we are, even being engaged to Tom and with you at my side, I never felt like I quite belonged. I wanted to see the world, Jess. I wanted more than Woodsmoke.”
“And now?”
