Page 12 of Wintertime Love (Holiday 2)

The childish part of me hisses in irritation, before I can stop myself. “I’ll have you know, I have been seduced plenty of times before!”

Good job, Clara, I groan to myself. Now he probably thinks you’re the town slut. You sure showed him.

Finn’s lips twitch and he says in a gravelly tone, “I’ll take your word for it. I guess I’ll have to work extra hard.” That Sphinx-like smile that is so unique to him, reappears on his lips.

Then before he can say anything else, I slap my hand on his mouth, desperately. “One more word about anything related to that and this tour is over.”

When he arches his brow, I narrow my eyes at him. “I mean it. One more word and I’m out.”

Although technically, I have enough grounds to leave right now, my feet still refuse to. It’s like I know I’m playing with fire but I just want to get a little scorched.

He studies me and then realizes I’m not playing around. He grasps my wrist and lowers my hand. “Very well.”

I swallow heavily and we continue walking. However, there’s this sharp awareness between us and it has me on edge. He’s not doing anything to break the tension and I know it’s deliberate on his end.

Manipulative little bastard.

“Further ahead is Wicca Lake. It’s a two hour hike,” I say, finally, in a casual airy tone. “We can go take a look if we want unless you’re scared of ghosts.” I shoot him a sly look.

“Ghosts?”

Why does he sound so intrigued?

“Yeah.” I shrug off my irritation at his seeming interest. “Back when the town was founded, it is said that of the three founding families, the Winter family were all witches, well the females that is. The legend goes that the town prospered under them for a decade before they were ostracized by the town people. They were then burnt at the stake, their bodies tossed in the lake. That very night, the water of the lake that had always been so clear, turned black and once a month, if you know when to look, the lake’s water is pitch black. And when that happens, all the dead witches come out to haunt the surface of the water.”

“Aren’t I staying at the Winter Mansion? Wasn’t all the family murdered?” Finn asks, a sincere interest alive in his voice.

“As it goes, Wicca Springs prosperity diminished overnight. The town struggled but it was falling into ruin. Then, two generations later, a woman showed up claiming to be the last of the fallen Winter family. She had a husband and a daughter with her. The townspeople welcomed them back with open arms, desperate for relief. The town archives say that Selena Winter revived the town in a year. Her daughter went on to marry a local blacksmith and the bloodline continued. The bloodline and the name of the Winter family is carried forward by the women. It’s always been that way.”

“How did they know she was who she said she was?”

I smile mischief in my tone as I answer, “Every daughter of the Winter family is born with a very particular birthmark on her right wrist.”

His gaze automatically goes to my wrist. “Does that mean…?”

I shrug, tucking both hands inside my pockets, securely. “Let’s head back.”

“But—”

“It’s so cold,” I say, loudly. “And I’m tired.” As I start walking in the other direction, I see him watching me with his eyes narrowed and I laugh silently all the way back to the main street.

“So, how w

as it?”

I jump in surprise when hearing Aunt Helen’s voice from behind me and nearly drop the hot chocolate in my hands. “Why’re you still up?” I ask, sitting down across from her.

She’s in a steel grey night gown and I have to admire how graceful and elegant she looks despite her age. Both my aunts have no shortage of suiters but it’s always mystified me as to why they refused to marry.

“I thought you might want to talk.”

Both my aunts are as different as night and day. Aunt Vee is more aggressive while Aunt Helen is gentler, kinder. But what they share is a very sharp sixth sense. Aunt Helen can always tell when something is troubling me. She doesn’t even have to be in the same room or house. There have been times when I would get a call from her at a very stressed out moment or she would send someone with some herbal tea leaves with instructions that I brew them and drink them almost instantly.

Aunt Vee, on the other hand, has always known when I’m up to no good. Whenever I tried to sneak out of the house for a party or brought a boy around, she’d know. I’ve never managed to figure out how but she would always be there.

When I had my heart broken for the first time at a party I’d managed to sneak out to, she had been waiting outside for me in the car. She hadn’t scolded me, just taken me for ice-cream at one in the morning, and let me cry in her arms. When I had gotten home, Aunt Helen had been waiting in her nightgown with a cup of tea for me. She’d cuddled me and comforted me and I’d never felt more loved than in that moment.

They love me, unconditionally.

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