by Eve Redmayne
He ducked his head and reached for Jessica, avoiding Willow’s eyes. “Sorry about that. Her gripe isn’t mine and never has been. We were friends before and are friends still.”
His hands were warm and so big they enveloped Jessica’s. He moved to tug her free but lost his footing and released her. She landed on her bottom with a squelch.
“Shit! I’m sorry, miss…” his deep voice trailed off and an easy smile peeked through his bright beard.
Jessica couldn’t find words for a moment—just sat in the muck while he watched, those turquoise eyes crinkling at the corners. “Jessica,” she blurted, realizing he didn’t know her name. “My name’s Jessica.”
What an idiot, introducing herself while ass-deep in mud. She nearly groaned aloud.
“Jessica, then.” He took her hands again and pulled her free, letting his grip linger.
This was a man who had no problem with his place in the world. The very way he moved told her he had confidence to spare.
All three stood for a long moment before Orrin laughed awkwardly and walked to the cart. “I brought you supplies.” With a tug, he swept off the tarp. “Winter’s upon us and everyone knew you’d left, Willow, so we figured you couldn’t have much here.”
“You were right about that. Thank you,” Willow said.
“It wasn’t just me. Everyone in the village donated what they could.” The cart squawked noisily. “Including chickens.”
“Goddess be thanked!”
“I’m going to change.” Jessica backed towards the cottage, plucking at the muddy gown clinging to her breasts and suctioned around her legs.
“I’m going to see what we can make for dinner!” Willow rummaged through the cart, heedless of her own muddy attire. Distracted by the goods, she paid no attention as Orrin followed Jessica around back.
***
Not wanting to startle her, but too fascinated to stay put, Orrin kept a good distance behind. His body had thrummed with desire since the day at the village, and he’d bided his time, rather impatiently, waiting for the right moment to come calling. When she’d knocked Mystia to the ground in defense of Willow, his feelings had stirred. He appreciated a take-charge kind of woman.
There was also the wound to consider. While startling, it didn’t detract from her beauty, instead, made her more intriguing. Re-affirmed she wasn’t the type to move quietly about the world but hurtled through it.
Rounding the corner, his eyes bulged. She’d removed her gown and stood, wiping mud from her nude body. Shit! If he’d known she was going to strip outside the house, giving him witness to her curvy backside, he’d have given her privacy. Heat suffused his face. No sense lying to himself, he wouldn’t have missed this for anything.
He devoured the view of strong thighs leading to adorable knock-knees and long, brown hair, brushing the tiny waist that spread to full, round hips. And couldn’t help but groan as his cock twitched.
Jessica turned, wild-eyed, gown clutched to her breasts. “What the hell?” As she tried covering herself, her countenance changed, body stiffened, and eyes brightened. The air grew heavy and carried upon it the bitter tang of magic.
He opened his mouth to apologize, but she shouted, “Enough!” loud enough to bring Willow running.
Her hand twitched and suddenly Orrin couldn’t move. A strong wind grabbed him, and though he strained against it, his limbs pinned uselessly to his sides. Her eyes glowed blue and arms swayed, as she manipulated the wind.
What the hell? Her appearance was dwarven, but clearly, she was anything but.
“Jess!” Willow ran around the house and put her hands up. “Stop!”
Inch by inch, Orrin found himself pushed back until he hit the trunk of a tree.
The oak’s branches crept down to encircle him with their rough boughs. Breath caught in panicked gasps, he began reciting a spell to free himself, but Jessica had caught him unaware. He stopped struggling and began apologizing. “I’m sorry, I swear I don’t normally peep on naked women.”
His biceps flexed, testing the strength of the bonds, but they held firm, so he kept talking and gave her a lop-sided smile. “You can’t blame a man for being tempted to stay quiet. I’d no idea you’d undressed. But had hoped to speak with you so you wouldn’t think me anything like my twin, and then, well”— he attempted to shrug, “—I couldn’t take my eyes away when I saw you.”
A hint of a smile crept across her face, but she kept him bound. “I guess you couldn’t know I’d taken my dress off,” she said haltingly, eyes narrowed. “But you should’ve said something.”
Quick to nod agreement, he said, “You’re right, but you can’t hold it against a man if he’s awe-struck by a beauty such as yours.”
“You think I’m a beauty?” Her eyes flickered back to the color of smoke. “Even with this?” She pointed to the wound.
“The most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he rasped, voice thick. And he meant it, though mud hung thickly in her hair and the gash to her face flushed red and angry. He felt drawn to her. And add to the mix this mysterious magic, well, sign him up! Besides, she hadn’t meant to hurt him, he’d simply startled her.
“Hmm.” A tiny smile played about her lips. “I like this guy,” she said, and with a flick of a finger, the tree released him from its grasp.
He fell to his knees and watched, open-mouthed. as Jessica walked into the cottage, hips swaying and ass jiggling in invitation. He shook his head, trying to process everything from her powers to her sinful bottom to how he could make her fall in love with him.
“Can’t figure her out, huh?” Willow said, hurrying over.
Orrin peeled his gaze from Jessica to Willow. “I don’t know what or who she is, but I’m going to get to know her.”
“Get to know her?” Willow’s tone mocked him as she glanced at the front of his breeches. “I’d say you were interested in more than getting to know her.”
He turned away, needing to get a grip on himself. “You might be right,” he said and cleared his throat. When he turned back, he frowned, noticing the raw wound on Willow’s neck where his sister had released the poison’s hold. “I’m sorry about Mystia. Since you turned her in for practicing demon magic, and the council banished her to the outskirts of Moonstone, she’s gotten a bit testy.” His hand flew up to keep Willow from interrupting. “Not that I think that’s an excuse to poison someone.”
Willow narrowed her eyes, but a slight smile lightened her countenance. “That’s what you call testy, huh? Guess you’d know the difference between her being testy and in a real temper.”
“To say the least. She’s always kept our family on our toes.” Pieces of bark clung to his cloak and he brushed them off. “I’m coming back.”
“I don’t think—”
“That sounds lovely,” Jessica called, her head appearing out a window. “We’ll be around tomorrow.” And just like that, disappeared back inside.
“See you tomorrow.” Orrin backed away, smiling. Though the walls of the house had preserved her modesty, he’d seen the upper slopes of her breasts and the graceful curve of her shoulder. The urge to race to the cottage, pull her in his arms, and run his tongue over every nook he found, pulled at his conscience. Instead, he unhooked the wagon and led his horse away, a grin burning his cheeks.
CHAPTER 20
It occurred to Jessica, as she stood next to Willow in the shed, that living with the witch wasn’t all she’d thought it’d be. Here only a couple weeks and she felt like she’d done nearly as much winterizing as working on her magic.
“We’ve got to keep the mice away,” Willow explained while simultaneously thrusting a broom at Jessica and giving her a withering glare. Then justified, “I wasn’t expecting to be here this winter, you know, so I half-assed everything.” She turned and left, a flurry of scarves, to let Jessica sweep leaves and other detritus from the sagging out-building.
Jessica squinted at the unsavory heap. “Begone,” she said, unsure how muc
h of it was mouse droppings and hoping she could command it away. Nothing happened.
A shudder rippled through her. Well, if she couldn’t magic it away, maybe she could get something else to take care of it.
Instead of focusing on the grime, she focused on the packed dirt floor. Before her eyes, a small hole appeared, swallowed the debris, and filled back in. “Hot damn! I’m a magical wonder!” she hopped in delight.
Her gaze shifted out the door as Orrin yelled a greeting. He strode confidently into the yard, a giant ax swung over his shoulder. After witnessing Jessica’s weak attempt at chopping down a tree the other day, he’d promised to cut them a stack of wood. That she’d taken a swing at her leg, surely hadn’t influenced his decision.
Willow waved from the garden, around a handful of spent bean vines, her hair billowing in the chill breeze.
Jessica skulked out of the shed and followed Orrin into the woods. She watched him work for several minutes, enjoying the break before he paused mid-swing and turned to her.
“You’re just going to sit there?” Orrin squinted at her, perched atop a stump. “Chop the branches off the timber with that hatchet.” He nodded toward the pile of trees he’d already felled before resuming swinging. His arms flexed as he worked at a massive trunk.
Awkwardly, she hacked at the prickly branches. When the hatchet missed its mark, her eyes shut, instinctively.
“You’re a danger to yourself,” he said, directly behind her.
Her breath caught as his arms wound around her waist, trapping her within his embrace. His red beard brushed against her cheek when she turned to look at him. “How’d you get here so fast?”
Instead of answering, he enfolded her wrists in his big hands and whispered in her ear, “Spread your legs.”
What?!? She hesitated so long, he finally placed a foot between her feet and shifted one foot to the side. Pink colored her cheeks. Oh, that’s what he meant. She swallowed and hardened her stance, ready to prove she could do this while trying to ignore her rapidly beating heart.
He pulled her back, flush against his chest and went through the motions of wielding a hatchet. Pressed together, she felt his muscles flex as they moved in tandem, cleaning an entire trunk. He smelled like pine and sweat.
When he backed away, she swallowed thickly. “Thanks.”
His turquoise eyes glittered as he smiled back. “My pleasure. Oh, and magic.”
“What… Ohh.” Of course, magic was how he’d moved so fast.
Another smile spread across his bearded face, and he gave her a cheeky wink. She grinned back, never realizing how enjoyable chopping wood could be.
When the sun set, he slammed his ax into a stump, flexed his shoulders, and straightened to his full height. She’d enjoyed working alongside him, the company, and (astonishingly enough) the task. But her eyes narrowed as it suddenly struck her how well she could see even though dusk had fallen.
The bloody dwarven eyes, she realized. Willow had mentioned the full transition took some time. Awed by her newfound ability, she turned about.
“I’ll come back in a few days to split these if you don’t mind my company,” he said, breaking through her wonderment.
She didn’t mind. Willow could be preoccupied with her own activities, and Jessica enjoyed his visits. Besides she was taking to magic like a natural.
“I’d like that,” she said, though a strange emptiness filled her.
I wish Braum were here. The moment the thought entered her mind, she frowned. No, she did not want Braum here. As her soul twisted in frustration, she scrutinized the man before her, searching for any inkling of romantic feelings.
While she desperately wanted something between her and another man, any other man—so she could forget about Braum—Orrin’s bright grins didn’t flood her with sunshine like Braum’s half-lifted twitch of the lips. Lord, that man rarely smiled. And while Orrin’s touch was pleasant, swooning pleasure didn’t ripple through her as it had with Braum.
Her attention shifted back to reality as Orrin stepped toward her, heat in his eyes. She quickly stepped back.
Orrin paused, brushed a hand over his beard, and cleared his throat. “Right, well then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
***
Within days, white covered the land—winter’s grip firmly in place. The women tucked into the cottage as a new, slower pace took over. Orrin still came to visit at least once a week. Oftentimes, he showed up as they tended to their daily chores, collecting the few eggs the chickens laid or while milking Dolly, the nanny goat.
Always, he came bearings gifts—freshly baked bread studded with chiles, hand-tooled leather belts, and sheaths for their work knives. Jessica had taken the new belt with a forced smile and reluctantly tucked Braum’s into a dark corner of the bedroom. And while she enjoyed how this new length of leather cradled her hip, she missed the droop of her old belt and its constant reminder of Braum.
Orrin’s most extravagant gift yet was a length of blue wool. When a week passed, and Jessica still wore her too-short, well-mended gown, he realized neither woman could sew worth a damn.
He reclaimed the fabric—guiltily stashed in a cupboard—and the next time he visited was with a gown expertly crafted and beautifully embroidered with red threat. Undergarments, warm boots, woolen stockings—a shocking shade of scarlet—and a cloak, were also included. He pulled Jessica aside, a blush pinkening his cheeks, and handed her a pair of turquoise garters, the same shade as his eyes, slightly crumpled and warm from his fist.
There was also a shirt for Willow, embroidered with purple and green thread, as well as a new scarf to add to her collection. Willow had reddened in delight, her freckles glowing when she’d opened the package.
And he’d yet to ask Jessica about her magic or her wound, which she found strangely considerate. It would be so simple if she could simply forget Braum and move on with Orrin. She found him attractive enough and the way his gaze lingered said he found her desirable. Their conversations were interesting, and Willow teased her unmercifully, when he wasn’t around, about her suitor. But she couldn’t force interest in a man, even to thwart her husband and her own heart, as much as she’d like to.
The winter nights were long and while the two women had developed a genuine friendship, life wasn’t without the occasional squabble, usually involving who stole the blanket at night, in the bed they still shared. In the evenings, they played cards with a deck Jessica had fashioned from thick, homemade paper. The witch caught on quickly and won most games, though swore she didn’t use her second sight to tip her off.
Jessica practiced her magic every day, finding creative methods, ensconced indoors to avoid frostbite. For wind-work, she’d open a window, just a crack, and watch the dried herbs sway in the rafters, showering petals and leaves upon them. Willow would curse and leap about, reclaiming her notes from the wind.
Once a breeze was loosed in the house, it tended to linger. And afterwards, the women re-stacked Willow’s papers throughout the day and picked bits of herb from each other’s hair. Willow’s hair was the worst, curly as it was. Greenery tangled hopelessly in the unruly tresses, and Jessica grumbled she spent more time grooming the witch than practicing magic.
For earth-work, they grew seeds which Jessica mutated per her or Willow’s fancy. Willow alternated between watching Jessica and observing the plants, her green eyes asparkle as she ingested information, scribbling everything from words to symbols on stacks of parchment. She often worked into the night devising theories and pondering ideas.
Water-work consisted of Jessica gathering water from the once-roaring stream, now a near-frozen trickle. Clutching her new cloak tight, Jessica leaned out the top-half of the door, pointed a finger towards the river, and then to the bucket. A stream of water would deposit itself neatly in the house. When it wasn’t too frigid, she’d manipulate the water as it traveled, spread it out into millions of droplets, then urge them back together, sometimes pausing to perform aerials.
> And for the most part, she’d maintained control. She hadn’t experienced a magical outburst for weeks and no longer felt like a host-body. Instead, the magic came naturally, like it was now truly a part of her.
Willow allowed her to work with fire, on the condition she not burn the house down. It was the most unwieldy element to handle, so Jessica manipulated it within the confines of the hearth, not comfortable bringing it into the open. She usually came away singed and promising to forswear fire magic altogether.
Animals were another story. Before Chappy disappeared, hibernating, they guessed, she’d tried magicking him daily, never to any success, along with every deer and bird that came into view. Finally, tired of her moping, Willow reminded her she’d never been able to control animals, so get over it.
So, she conceded her powers only involved the four elements, earth, wind, water, and fire. Animals were not her specialty.
As she sat by the fire, Jessica found herself reflecting on Braum—as often happened in quiet moments. She missed him. No, she hated him. Wouldn’t it be nice to see a half-smile break through one of his stern frowns? And even nicer to smash his face in?
Despite the fact Braum had betrayed her, she wondered if she could forgive him. Every morning she woke up pining for him, her stoic protector. She missed how his eyes lit up whenever he saw her. Wished she could watch his dimples blink into view when he felt playful. And even missed the scowls that drew his brows together.
Her gaze strayed to Willow, hunched over the table, not speaking except to mutter as she furiously ground this or that with mortar and pestle. There was a desperation to the witch’s work. But Willow quickly dismissed her queries any time Jessica brought it up. And she’d scold Jessica if she knew where her thoughts lingered. So, she’d just keep them to herself and avoid the reprimand she’d otherwise get.
Every so often, Willow jumped up to scramble about the cottage, a sudden dervish of energy, scarves waving behind her as she dodged bunches of garlic to rummage through precariously stacked bowls. She’d taken to wearing even more scarves than usual.
