Page 83 of Wishing Hearts

“Okay, good,” she says. “Can you tell me about another constellation?”

“Of course,” I reply, grabbing my book. I open it up, reading to Winnie about Orion’s Belt, and she listens raptly, eyelids seeming to get heavy as we lie there inside her treehouse learning about the stars. It’s so perfect I could cry.

A few minutes later, footsteps ascend the ladder.

“Hey,” Harrison says softly, peeking his head inside. “Time for bed.”

“Aw, man,” I groan. “Really?”

Winnie snickers, getting up and climbing over my body, nearly kneeing me in the gut as she goes. Harrison gives me a smirk before disappearing down the ladder, and Winnie follows him. I look up at the Big Dipper one more time before closing the top of the treehouse.

When I get to the tent, the other two are already inside. The fairy lights flicker above us as we settle in for the night, Harrison and I on either side of Winnie because that’s how she insisted we be. Tigger lies near my feet, and Harrison reads Winnie a bedtime story. Her eyes are shut before he’s even finished, and he looks over at me in awe, closing the book quietly.

“That’s a first,” he whispers.

“Magic of campin’,” I reply.

He gives me a soft smile, laying his head down on his pillow. I do the same, easing out a breath. It’s not lost on me, the fact that I’m staying here for the second night in a row. I wonder what that means.

I wonder if, someday, I could spend all of my nights here.

“Sam,” Harrison says gently, careful not to wake Winnie. The little girl seems out, though.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me something.”

I nearly bark a laugh, and Harrison grins like he can tell. I ease onto my side, too, settling my head in my hand, and I start to talk, telling Harrison about the first time I went camping on my own. How amazed I was at the quiet, still air and the sight of so many twinkling stars above, like a blanket of light. I tell him about what that day meant to me and how I got my tattoo shortly after.

I don’t tell him about my wish that night. How I dreamed of a family to share the magic with.

But as I look at Harrison’s gentle, sleepy smile and see Winnie and Tigger lying close, I recall the words my heart whispered earlier. The ones that have changed, I realize—morphed from the vague form they once were into something specific and concrete. And I let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, they could come true.

I wish…

They were mine to keep.

Chapter 23

Harrison

“Shit,” I mutter, looking at the small cut on my finger. Setting the knife aside, I wash my hand in the sink, cleaning the cut. “Winnie,” I call out. “We need to get moving.”

“Coming,” she yells down the stairs.

I glance at the clock again, realizing we’re going to be late if we don’t get out the door in the next three minutes. After wrapping a Band-Aid around my finger, I finish Winnie’s sandwich and load it into her lunchbox.

“Ready,” Winnie says, coming to a halt inside the entryway to the kitchen. Her hair is up in two lopsided pigtails, and I bite my lip against my laughter.

“Sam do your hair?” I ask.

She gives me a nod and a beaming smile. “Yep. Isn’t it awesome? He said he’s gonna try a braid next.”

“That’s great, Pumpkin,” I say, stuffing her lunchbox into her backpack. “Get your shoes and jacket on, please.”

Winnie heads toward the door, and I curse.

“Winnie,” I call out. “Where’s your art book?”

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