I, on the other hand, wasn’t completely opposed to the idea. After all, Delia’s reading on the night of Witches’ Ball set things in motion for me, and I wondered if she’d have any other insights to share about the path my life had taken.
The original Hartley homestead was located on the far northeast side of town. Noah explained it was the last building before the trails lead to the Whimsical Woods Resorts.
“The road to get to Hartwood Creek is on the west side of town, but you can get there by foot using the trails. It’s how Morgana Hartley visited Alexander Wood,” Noah explained.
My skin pebbled with goosebumps as I glanced toward the pathway leading toward the trails.
I’d read about Morgana Hartley and Alexander Wood in the book Sage had bought for me. There had been a few old sepia photographs of a couple from long ago, and their triplet daughters.
The original homestead was over three hundred years old, and it looked like it. The stairs had recently been rebuilt, and they’d added a wheelchair ramp for accessibility, but the house itself looked like it’d been scooped up from the seventeen hundreds and dropped on a snowy street in Hartwood Creek. It was timeless.
The stone and log cabin had the original wooden door that had seen better days but still looked solid. It creaked when Noah opened it, and he held it for me as I stepped inside.
The floors were all original hardwood. Thick, worn pine slats that creaked beneath my feet as I walked into the shop. There were tables and displays brimming with all sorts of different kinds of crystals in the centre of the room. On the right side of the large room were old built-in bookshelves full of books and other various items.
To the left of the expansive space, there was a large stone hearth with an old, cast-iron pot that looked suspiciously like a cauldron hanging on the ancient trammel hook over the fire, which kept the room comfortably warm despite the windchill outside.
The sight of the fire surprised me, especially with the age of the cabin. The fire seemed to be heating whatever was in the cauldron. It smelt of cinnamon, orange, and cloves.
There was a counter at the back of the room with a vintage cash register. On the wall behind the counter was another shelf with hundreds, if not thousands, of various vials. To the right of the counter was a doorway covered with a wooden bead curtain.
“Good afternoon!” an airy, recognizable voice called out from the backroom. The wooden beads made an almost musical sound as they knocked together when Delia Hartley parted them and stepped into the storefront. “Ah, Noah. I see you’ve brought our new friend with you. Nellie, isn’t it? I remember you from the Witches’ Ball. I trust you had a good night?”
Delia smiled knowingly. She was gorgeous with her long, wavy dark auburn hair and vivid green eyes framed by thick lashes. During the Witches’ Ball, she’d dressed up as a fortune teller, although her outfit today was quite similar.
“Yeah, it was a good night,” I said.
Delia’s lips twitched with amusement, her eyes moving to Noah briefly, then flitting back to me. “And how are you finding Hartwood Creek?”
“It’s very welcoming,” I answered.
Delia’s smile widened at my answer, and she inclined her head. “Well, we are very glad to have you as an official resident,” she said. “I have a gift for you.”
“You do?” I frowned, watching as Delia went behind the counter and grabbed something. It was a small brown paper bag with purple tissue paper peeking out the top.
“I do, it’s a welcome gift,” Delia smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you to come by so I could give it to you.”
“Wow, that’s really nice of you, Delia,” Noah said, putting his hand on the small of my back.
She smiled. “I hope the items within bring you comfort and ease, Nellie. Please don’t hesitate to visit if you need anything at all. I offer energy healing, spiritual mentoring, and group healing classes, as well as all the lovely items you see in my store.” Delia chuckled, waving her hand around the room.
“Okay, yeah, that sounds great. Thank you,” I said, holding the gift bag closer to my body. I felt like I needed to buy something, so I perused the shelves and ended up selecting two jars of all-natural body butter that Delia told me she made herself.
“It’s great for stretch marks,” Delia said, her knowing eyes sweeping down for the briefest of moments, a secret smile playing on her pillowy lips. It should have made me feel uneasy, but there was something about Delia’s aura. It was nurturing and mystical, and I felt at home in her presence. Like I’d known her forever, even though I really hadn’t. This was only my second time speaking to her.
I told myself I was being silly, anyway. There was no way Delia knew about my little secret yet. The word hadn’t spread. Only four people knew about it, and those four people were sworn to secrecy. Tabitha hadn’t even told Parker yet, and although Parker knew that Sage was pregnant, he had no idea I was, too.
I tried to pay for my purchases, but Noah beat me to it. “It’s my treat,” he murmured.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, Nellie,” Delia said, smiling her secretive, all-knowing smile.
We said our goodbyes and left Enchanted Echoes, then started walking back to the heart of downtown. “Feel like checking out the bookstore, or are you tired?” Noah asked. I really wanted to find somewhere to open my gift from Delia, but something told me to wait until I was alone.
“Sure,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. I’d already been in the bookstore a couple times, with Sage and on my own, but I firmly believed there was no such thing as visiting a bookstore too much.
The bookstore owner was an older gentleman with greying hair and square glasses and a little round belly. He dressed impeccably, in dress pants with suspenders and button up shirts, and sometimes wore a newspaper hat.
The first time I’d gone into the bookstore with Sage, he’d been there. The second time when I’d been on my own picking up a new romance book to fill the lonely hours at night, his wife had been behind the counter, too. She’d struck up an entertaining conversation about her favourite romance books of the year—many of which I’d added to my to-be-read list.
