“I’m in,” said Kel. “Better than being stuck at home with Dad.”
Ahead, the older Midwinters came to a stop. Deep in conversation, Rowan hadn’t been tracking what route they’d taken into town, and so she was caught completely off guard when she realized where they’d gone.
The strip mall at the site of the old Midwinter house.
“I want a branch from the oak for the altar,” said Liliana Midwinter, face set stubbornly.
The only thing that remained of her grandmother’s home and the lush gardens that had surrounded it were four trees—an oak, a hawthorn, an ash, and a birch, now dotting a strip mall parking lot. Dennis McCreery had tried to cut them down during construction, but every time, something stopped it.
Tools broke, branches fell on heads, unpredictable storms rained out workdays. Pretty soon every arborist in five counties knew the job wasn’t worth the trouble, and so the new buildingshad gone up around them, and members of the coven still regularly harvested their wood for spellwork.
Her mother walked up to the oak, stroking its old trunk gently, connecting with it before she would move to work off a branch.
Rowan stared at the strip mall, willing memories to stay away. But they came regardless. A rounded porch with gingerbread rails, the sharp points of gables, the tower room that had been her favorite place to sit with her grandmother, talking magic and people watching.
It all came back in a painful tumble, and with a sharp inhale, she turned on her heel, proceeding on down the road while everyone else waited for her mother to finish.
At the end of the block, the Presbyterian church was releasing its congregation from Christmas morning services, Pastor Thomas greeting each of her congregants in turn.
Gavin emerged from the crowd and caught sight of her. His face lit up, and he mouthed,Hi!And then,Wait there!
Her stomach butterflied, and she waved as he pushed his way through the crowd and across the street to come to stand in front of her, hovering close enough that she could smell the tang of peppermint on his breath.
“Merry Christmas,” she said.
His brow wrinkled as he returned, “Happy…Fifth Day of Yule?”
“Impressive math skills there, McCreery,” she said with a grin.
“I was hoping I’d run into you,” he said. “I have something.”
He pulled a small wrapped box from his pocket and passed it over. Inside was a silver necklace shaped like a banner of twined holly and ivy. “It was my mom’s…She got it on the Europe trip—from one of the markets that inspired this place.”
“In Heidelberg?” He nodded. Emotion rose in Rowan’s throat. “Thank you. Are you sure…?”
“It’s just been sitting in a drawer. Now I can actually see it—on you.” Her heart fluttered as she nodded, fumbling with the clasp. “May I?”
He took the necklace in hand and disappeared behind her. Her eyes closed in anticipation. For a moment, nothing happened. Finally, his fingers grazed the nape of her neck, sending tingles down her spine, and the cold metal of the necklace came to rest against her chest.
His fingers trailed down, following the arch of her spine as far as her sweater would allow.
Goddess, how she wanted him to keep going.
But they were in a street in broad daylight on Christmas Day and the Midwinters didn’t need any fuel for the notion they’d corrupted Christmas, so she disentangled from him, reluctantly.
“I, um, actually have something for you too. It’s not wrapped…” She pulled a cigar-shaped fountain pen from her pocket, its dark shaft accented in bright metallic bands. “It’s been sitting on my dad’s desk for as long as I can remember. I asked if he ever used it, and he said he didn’t even know how. It was a gift from some historical society he worked with while he studied abroad. He’s happy to see it going to someone who’ll use it.”
Gavin took it, his eyes widening. “This isn’t just a pen—this is a Montblanc Meisterstück 146.”
“Wow—identified on sight. You really are that level of nerd.”
“Oh, yes.” He chuckled and turned it in his hands. “They say the difference in these old pens is the softness. I cannot wait to try it out.” He kissed her, the excitement clear in his lips. “Thank you. And thank your dad.”
When he pulled away, his expression was serious. “Something’s been bothering me. Yesterday, we…never got to talk about what happened back at the sauna.” He shook his head. “I thought I saw signals that weren’t there…I moved too fast. I’m sorry.” His words were full of self-reproach, and even though it wasn’t whatshe’d hoped he would apologize for, a rush of emotion filled her throat.
She shook her head, smiling and pressing a gloved hand to his chest. “No.”
“No?” he asked, surprised.
