Page 12 of Woods of the Raven

“It’s because you don’t have a jacket,” I groused as I started toward the glass doors. “Just that stupid sweater.”

She gasped. “I’ll have you know this cardigan is silk, and it’s Prada.”

I shook my head at her.

“Amanda gave it to me.”

“Of course she did.”

Stepping out onto the patio, I smiled at the girls. “It’s wreath-time, people. You wanna come inside?”

They both only stared at me like I’d said something they didn’t understand.

One of them was Delia Evans, whom I’d met a couple of months ago when her aunt visited me and brought her along, and the other was Cassidy MacBain, Chief MacBain’s niece, whom I knew only because she and her father had stood next to the chief when he was introduced to the town. Delia was now leaning against the wall, crying, and Cassidy was patting her back and handing her tissues.

“What’s wrong?” I asked gently.

Delia blew her nose while Cassidy studied me.

“Did you not want to be here?” I offered. I knew Delia wouldn’t be crying over having to make a wreath, but I was hoping to get her talking. She had the loveliest big brown eyes framed with thick dark lashes now wet with tears. Her hair, which had been up in a bun a moment before, had fallen out and now hung down her back in beautiful box braids.

“It’s not that,” she answered, taking more tissues from Cassidy to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.

“Could you tell me what it is? Maybe I can help.”

“You can’t.”

“But you can’t really know that,” I pointed out, “unless you tell me.”

We were back to the staring.

“I don’t know if you heard when I was introduced, but I’m Xander Corey.”

Cassidy offered me her hand. “I’m Cassidy MacBain, but you can call me Cass.”

“Cass,” I repeated, shaking her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

With a hint of a smile, Cass let go, and then Delia and I shook hands as well. “I’m Delia Evans,” she said, sniffling. “But you know that from when my aunt brought me over to your house.”

“I remember.”

“And that’s one of the reasons I don’t want to get into it—because you’ll tell my aunt.”

“Okay,” I agreed, nodding, taking a step back. “But it is cold out here, so you should both come inside and—”

“You have twigs stuck in your hair,” Delia observed.

“I do?”

She nodded, and I could see her grin.

Bending over, taking my hair out of the bun it was up in, I shook it out and saw pieces of straw raining down onto the wooden planks of the patio. “For crying out loud,” I grumbled, realizing that Millie had let me look like a porcupine for my entire presentation. Not that you could tell straw from my hair—it was nearly the same color.

“What’s with that?” Cass wanted to know, standing beside Delia, watching me put my hair back up. “Why is there straw in your hair?”

“I was overseeing the cornfield maze for the harvest festival. I do it every year because it used to have one way in and one way out, and you had to complete the maze to extricate yourself from the damn thing.”

Cass squinted at me. “Why is that a problem? Isn’t that the point of a maze?”