by D. Lieber
Muir cried pitifully again.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “It says our driver will be here in four minutes. Then you will be in the nice warm car.”
A few minutes later, a light blue car pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and a man stepped out. He wasn’t much taller than Evergreen, but what he lacked in height he made up for in good looks and fashion sense. His charcoal peacoat was pristine over his straight-legged jeans and clean, leather boots.
“Are you Niko?” Evergreen asked, trying to place the name the app had given her.
“Yes.” His dark eyes glinted in his olive face, and his curly, black hair moved only slightly as he nodded at her. “You must be Evergreen,” he said, his voice rich and smooth.
She nodded in turn.
“Let me help you with your bags,” he offered, holding out his hand for her roller suitcase.
“Oh, yeah. Also, I have a cat. I hope that’s okay.”
“No problem. I love cats.”
Evergreen followed Niko to his trunk and took off her backpack as he lifted her suitcase into it. She surreptitiously checked the license plate, comparing it to the one the app had provided. Then, she climbed into the passenger seat.
As he got behind the wheel, Niko looked over at Muir’s carrier in Evergreen’s lap, lowering his head so he could see through the gate.
“He’s a cutie,” Niko said.
Evergreen smiled. “Thank you.”
Niko pulled away from the curb. “So, you’re going up to the retreat center? What sort of retreat are they having this time?”
“You know it?”
“Of course. I take guests up there all the time.”
Evergreen nodded. “They aren’t having a retreat. My parents own it. I’m just coming home for the holidays.”
“Ah.”
A few blocks away, they were out of the main part of town and on the winding road engulfed by snow-laden trees. Evergreen pushed her sunglasses up onto her head, the car too dark with the added shade. She glanced over at Niko, now a silhouette against the outside light.
“Have you lived in Birchland long?” Evergreen asked.
“How do you know I’m not from here?” He sounded like he was smirking.
I’d remember a guy like you, Evergreen thought. “Well…I don’t know everyone, but there’s only one high school in town. And you don’t look that much older than me. Unless…did you go to Birchland Catholic?”
He nodded. “I did, though I took an elective summer class at Birchland High once. You’re looking at someone who survived twelve years of Catholic school. I’ve lived here my whole life, except for the summers I spent visiting family in Greece.”
“That must have been fun.”
“It was,” Niko agreed. “What year did you graduate? 2017? 2018?”
“2016. You?”
“2015.”
“I had a…friend who graduated that year, but he went to Birchland High.”
“Yeah? What’s his name?”
“Sawyer Collins.”
“Collins, Collins,” he muttered, searching to place the name. “It sounds familiar…Oh! Was he a tall guy, kind of quiet, with wavy blond hair and brown eyes? Yeah, I think he was in that summer photography class. He didn’t really talk much, but man his nature photography was amazing.”
They’re amber not brown, Evergreen thought. “Yeah, he was really into photography. That probably was him.”
Niko glanced over at her with a grin. “Look at that,” he said. “Birchland is a small town after all.”
Her skin tingled as his suave tone caressed it.
“What’s Collins doing now?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him in a long time. But he’s supposed to be coming in for the holiday, so maybe you’ll run into him.”
“Yeah, maybe. Well, here we are,” Niko said, pulling into the round drive of The Spiral Path Retreat Center and parking.
They both got out of the car and went back to the trunk. Niko placed Evergreen’s suitcase on the ground beside her then hooked her backpack onto the extended handle.
“Well, if you ever need a ride, you know how to find me,” he said with that easy tone.
She nodded. “Thank you. Happy holidays.”
“You too, Evergreen. See you around.”
Evergreen could feel his lingering gaze as he flashed her a smooth smile. Her cheeks warmed. Niko gave her a polite nod, got back into his car, and drove away.
She shook herself. Gods, he was pretty, she thought. Even though she knew he was only nice to her to get a good rating, she didn’t even care. It felt good when a hot man smiled and called her name, but she had no delusions that he was attracted to her. She could tell the difference. Besides, she’d gone twenty-two years without ever seeing Niko. It wasn’t likely she’d ever see him again.
As she turned toward the sturdy lodge, the calm warmth of home and hearth settled into her. Grabbing Muir’s carrier and her roller suitcase, Evergreen headed up the wooden steps and in through the front door without knocking.
“I’m home!” she called as she closed the door behind her.
The cadence of small feet running on the wood floor approached her. Evergreen tensed for impact, placing Muir’s carrier on the ground, as Sol rounded the corner.
“Eeva!” the little boy squealed.
Evergreen knelt to better catch the child as he launched himself into her arms.
“Hey there, Sparkler,” she said, embracing him. “How did you get here before me? You must have learned how to fly.”
He giggled, pulling away from her. “You’re silly. Witches can’t fly.”
Evergreen tilted her head with a grin. “Are you sure about that?”
He nodded.
She reached out and tickled his belly. “Really sure?” she challenged through his giggling squeals.
“Yes,” he screamed his answer.
“Well then. I’ve got news for you, sir.” She picked him up, holding him by his middle tucked against her side like a football. She spun around, making zooming sounds as he laughed, his arms held out like Superman.
Slightly out of breath, Evergreen returned Sol to his feet. “See?” she said. “You flew.”
“Do it again!” he demanded.
Just as she smiled, wondering if she had the endurance to pick the boy up for another go, his mother came around the corner.
“What’s all this noise?” Cassandra asked, her voice smiling.
“Eeva was teaching me to fly,” Sol explained.
“She was?” his mother asked. “Well, why don’t you fly to the bathroom and wash your hands for dinner?”
The boy looked back up at Evergreen. “You’re coming too?”
Evergreen smiled. “I’ll be right there,” she promised.
And Sol was gone just as fast as he’d come.
Evergreen embraced Cassandra. “Hey, cuz,” she murmured.
“Hey. Glad you made it safe. Aunt Ria was starting to worry.”
“Starting? When isn’t she already?”
Cassandra chuckled.
“I can’t believe how big he’s gotten,” Evergreen commented.
“I know. He’s growing so fast. Almost five already. But, you know, it wouldn’t be so much of a shock if you came around more often.”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. It will be easier when I’m done with school.”
Cassandra nodded and picked up Muir’s carrier. “Is your mama still spoiling you, Muir?” she asked the cat, peering in at him.
“He’s not spoiled. He’s just loved. You have your baby, and I have mine.”
“Aunt Ria already put the spare litter box in your room. Do you need help carrying this stuff upstairs?”
“No, thanks. I can handle it,” Evergreen responded.
Evergreen headed up the stairs to the third floor where her attic bedroom had been. She pulled up short when she opened the door. Even though she knew none of her things were there anymore since she�
�d taken them to her apartment, it was still jarring to see her familiar space turned into the cozy but impersonal visage of a guest bedroom.
Evergreen let Muir out of his crate and showed him where the litter box was. After he’d hopped out, she cradled him in her arms and headed downstairs.
“Wow,” she murmured as she entered the common room.
The mantle of the fireplace was covered in greenery. The small flickering lights among the green said there were also candles. A fire crackled in the hearth.
The Yule tree in the corner was bright with string lights, and the heavy fragrance of cinnamon drifted in the air, emanating from the scented pinecones that hung among the branches.
“We did good, right?” her mom said, coming from the direction of the kitchen.
“It’s beautiful,” Evergreen complimented, crossing the room and kissing her mom on the cheek.
“I’m so glad you decided to come, baby girl,” her mother said.
“Where’s Dad?”
“In the kitchen. Dinner should be done in a few minutes.”
“Here, hold your grandcat while I go say hi.” Evergreen handed Muir into her mother’s arms.
He purred as his grandma scratched his ears.
“Something smells good,” Evergreen announced upon entering the large kitchen.
“There she is,” her dad said, looking over his shoulder as he stood at the stove. “How was the ride?”
Evergreen stood on her tiptoes and kissed her dad on the cheek. “Not bad. Muir wasn’t happy for the first hour, but he eventually fell asleep.”
Her dad nodded. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Well, you’re just in time. Why don’t you help Mom set the table?”
“You got it.”
The quiet family dinner was anything but. Every few minutes, a pair of fuzzy bodies tore through the dining room while Muir and Larkspur chased each other. Cassandra punctuated the scramble by scolding Sol every time he moved to join in the race. When ten minutes had passed with no sight of them, Evergreen got up, concerned about their silence.
“Muir?” she called, her tone laced with warning. “You better be behaving yourself.”
Evergreen stalked through the house, her eyes scanning for her mischievous cat.
She found Larkspur seated at the base of the Yule tree just staring into the branches. She squinted at it, creeping closer as she searched, the lights too bright for her to make out anything dark.
“Muir!” she shouted.
The cat’s yellow eyes, pupils wide, stared out at her from the branches of the tree.
“Get out of there, right now,” she demanded.
He didn’t move.
She reached toward him, and he jumped out of the tree, running to the safety of some dark corner where she couldn’t reach him. Larkspur still sat at the foot of the tree, watching the exchange as though he couldn’t be bothered.
“You’re a bad influence,” she said to her cat-sibling. Evergreen sighed and returned to the table. “These cats,” she said, shaking her head as she sat back down.
Chapter 4
“Are you sure it’s not too early?” Sawyer asked his mom as they drove up the winding road to the retreat center.
“I told Ria last night we’d be coming in early,” she answered from the passenger seat of his car, wrapped in her hat, coat, scarf, and mittens while snuggled into a blanket. The heater was blaring so high that Sawyer had taken off his winter things and just wore his T-shirt and jeans.
“Besides, she knows how traffic makes me nervous. She told us to let ourselves in,” she added.
He pulled into the round drive and parked behind a blue Honda he didn’t recognize. The bumper sticker proudly proclaimed that the owner was a “Tree Loving Dirt Worshiper.” Sawyer smiled, knowing he was in the right place.
It had been years since he’d been to the Pendre’s house, but it looked just the same as he remembered. He glanced over at his mother as she struggled to free herself from her many layers.
He chuckled at her. “Do you need some help, Mom?”
She sighed. “No, I just can’t seem to—ugh, it’s like quicksand!”
He laughed harder. “Let me help you.”
She glared at him. “Are you laughing at me, son?”
He tried to smother his smile. “Maybe. You know, if we had gotten in a crash, I bet you wouldn’t even be injured with all your layers of cushion.”
She scowled, though she had to be used to him teasing her for always being cold by now.
“Do you want my help?”
“No,” she said proudly without bite. “I can do it myself.”
“All right. Whatever you say,” he said mockingly.
She pursed her lips. “Just go.”
He moved around to the trunk and grabbed their luggage. As he closed the trunk, he peered through the back window at her. She had just extricated herself from the blanket and was struggling with her scarf. He shook his head, snickering to himself, and went on ahead.
Sawyer opened the front door as quietly as he could. It wasn’t super early, but people did tend to sleep in while they were on vacation. He didn’t want to disturb anyone.
He took the bags through the entrance hall and stopped in the living room. I don’t know what rooms we’re staying in, he thought. We can just hang out here until someone gets up.
He glanced around the room, cold and still in the early morning light. Evergreen boughs and ivy twisted among beeswax pillar candles on the mantle above the hearth. The Yule tree in the corner was alight with crystal-style string lights, which danced on the holly berries and bells hung on the tree. Cinnamon scented pinecones were nestled in the branches.
Feeling something against his legs, Sawyer looked down at the grey tabby as it rubbed up against him, trilling. He smiled at the cat and crouched, holding out his hand so the animal could smell him.
It trilled again and purred. Sawyer picked it up, scratching its ear to the cat’s sounds of delight.
“Muir!” A shout came from the direction of the kitchen. “I swear to all the gods, you better not be in that Yule tree.”
Sawyer looked up just as Eeva stopped short upon entering the living room. She was still in her pajamas: flannel plaid pants with an oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks. Her long, brown hair was dyed a dark green, and it was still messy from sleep.
His heart throbbed in his chest, and he held his breath as he met her deep ocean blue eyes. His memories hadn’t done her justice.
“Hey,” he said lamely. “It’s uh…been a while.” He cleared his throat, his own voice sounding hoarse and uneven in his ears.
She blinked as if she’d forgotten who he was then frowned. “Yeah, I suppose that happens in life… How is…everything? I mean, I hope you and your mom are doing all right.” Her tone was distant and polite. Formal.
His stomach clenched as his raised hopes deflated. “Yeah, everything’s fine. We’re both good. And you?”
“Same.”
As the strained silence grew between them, Sawyer grasped for something to say. Anything. “So…my mom says you’re graduating soon. What are you studying?” He knew very well she was studying history. It didn’t matter that he’d said more times than he could count that he didn’t care. The moment his mother mentioned her, he’d always internalized the information. And he’d taken more than a few glances at her social media profiles over the years, though he’d gotten better about that.
“Eeva!” his mother called, entering the room before they could struggle on in their conversation.
Eeva smiled, her eyes alight with the same warmth and kindness he’d seen so many times in his youth. “Tara,” she said as his mother embraced her tightly. “It’s so good to see you.”
His mom held her at arms’ length. “Let me get a good look at you.” She clicked her tongue in a sound of appreciation. “Oh, still as beautiful as ever.”
A light blush dusted Eeva’s cheeks. She still g
ets embarrassed by compliments, Sawyer thought.
“Thank you,” Eeva murmured.
“I love the hair color by the way,” his mom continued. “Isn’t she gorgeous, Sawyer? She’s grown up a lot in the last four and a half years.”
He ducked his head toward the purring cat in his arms, automatically falling into his old routine of silence and self-consciousness.
But unlike while he was growing up, his mother didn’t just continue on with the conversation like the question was rhetorical, allowing him to stay comfortable in his shyness. Her silence was heavy as she stared at him expectantly.
He remembered their earlier conversation about how much he’d changed, how he needed to show Eeva who he was now, show her that confidence he’d gained over the years. He looked up at Eeva again, but she wasn’t looking at him.
He let himself smile that smile he’d always kept to himself, that smile that had been too telling for him ever to let Eeva see.
“As ever,” he said with a nod.
Eeva’s eyes snapped to his. Her face flushed, and she looked away. “That’s not very nice. After all this time, you catch me off guard in my PJs and then you tease me?” She pursed her lips, clearly displeased.
But before he could tell her he wasn’t joking, she approached him, took the cat from his arms, and started from the room. “You guys make yourselves at home. Mom and Dad should be up before long, and they can tell you where to put your stuff. There’s coffee and tea in the kitchen. I have to feed Muir and get ready.”
Chapter 5
Evergreen could still feel her face flushed with heat as she shut her bedroom door behind her and placed Muir on the floor in front of his already full bowl. She rushed to the mirror above the dresser, leaning far over so she could properly see. She groaned at her disheveled appearance, finger-combing her messy hair and trying to smooth it into some semblance of order.
“Why did he have to get here so early?” she murmured.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she’d left her breakfast mostly uneaten in the kitchen. She scowled at her reflection. “He didn’t have to tease me. The old Sawyer never would have done that. Then again…the old Sawyer didn’t talk much at all let alone smile mockingly and make rude comments.”
