by Ann Gimpel
She smiled shyly, pleased by his compliment. “I hate to leave here. It’s our little, private paradise, but I don’t want to worry the others, either. Besides, Breana could use some help. It’s a lot of us to cook for.” Abigail brushed her lips over his and sat.
“I doubt she had to do much cooking. There was plenty of food left over this morning.”
“Well, they’ve had all day to make inroads on it.” She got to her feet, intent on getting dressed, but he flowed upright in one, easy motion and drew her against him.
“I love you, Abigail.”
Emotion rocked her to her soul, molten and compelling. “I love you too, Luke. Let’s hang onto what we have right this moment.”
“We will, love, my sweet love. You’ll see, things will only keep getting better.”
Abigail forgot about putting her clothes on and melted into his arms.
Epilogue
Three months later
Their horses trotted smartly up a road Luke remembered well. Abigail was an accomplished rider and he enjoyed watching how she managed her mount. He’d offered to rent a buggy to make the trip from New York, but she’d opted to ride, so long as he didn’t mind if she sat astride. In about a quarter hour, they’d be at Aethelred’s. They’d spent longer than planned at Abigail’s grandmother’s house because Pop truly was dying and they’d stayed until he was gone. After that, they’d traveled up a large inland river to Sacramento, caught the Overland Stage to St. Joseph, Missouri and then a series of railroad trains to New York. Both of them had checked in with Coven headquarters and been given the okay to make a side trip to Luke’s village. After that, they’d be on their way back to Utah in a wagon train with other witches.
The Girauds’ original intent had been to pave the way. Breana had mailed a full report to Coven headquarters about her husband and daughter. Along with it, she’d sent word for others to follow her west, since land was plentiful and witches could practice their craft undisturbed. Besides, the country was heading toward a war over slavery. The Coven contingent needed to relocate before tensions between the North and the South exploded, making travel difficult.
“How long since you’ve been here?” Abigail asked.
“I was twenty-five when I left, so twenty years.”
“Ooooh.” She crinkled her nose at him. “I knew I’d snagged a younger man, but you were practically a child bride.”
“Groom,” he said, laughing. “That would be groom.”
“Bride, groom, what’s the difference?”
“Probably not much.” He was still chortling. Abigail had a quick wit and a delightful, quirky sense of humor.
“How come you never came back here until now?”
Well, why didn’t I? He took a deep breath. “Truth?”
“Of course, otherwise why bother to answer?” She drew her brows together. “It’s on account of your sister, isn’t it?”
Luke nodded. “No matter how much everyone said it wasn’t my fault, I always felt like I failed her.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
“A little. She would have been a mother herself by now. Tamra loved babies, all kinds, human, animal…” Luke hesitated a beat. “There wasn’t that much to come back here for. The wraiths got Ma and Pa, and my sisters settled in with our neighbors, the Waverlys. I’d visit them on holidays when I still lived here, but they always stared sidelong at me when they thought I wasn’t paying attention, like I was some kind of freak. Look around.” He waved his arms at the wooded roadway. “It’s pretty much a backwater here. A lot of the girls don’t even go to school, and the boys don’t go for very long. Most folk aren’t comfortable with magic.”
“That’s pretty much true everywhere,” she said gently.
“It’s worse here,” he cut in and then shook his head. “That’s not accurate. Now that I’ve spent years traveling the country, I know it isn’t, but I’ve used it as an excuse to stay gone.”
“That was insightful.” Abigail reached across the space between their horses and laid a hand on his thigh. “I’ve found when I lie to myself, they’re the hardest ones to get past.”
Luke snorted. “Especially when the lie’s driven by guilt. You’re a good woman, Abby. You keep me honest. Take this next right up the hill. It’s not marked, so slow down or you’ll ride right past.”
Abigail clucked to her horse and guided it onto an overgrown track. “Did you write and tell him we were coming?”
Luke shook his head. “I sat down a couple of times and started letters, but I didn’t know quite what to say. It felt awkward.”
“It would, because it’s been so long.”
A warm feeling spread from his belly outward. Abigail understood him and accepted who he was, all of him. He’d tried to tell her how much that meant, but words had always felt inadequate.
“My,” she twisted in her saddle, craning her neck this way and that, “these are some old trees.”
“They scared the crap out of me when I was a kid. I used to imagine the branches were alive and out to get me.”
“I can see how you’d have felt that way. This path is barely even a road, more like a trail, and it’s so unkempt it has a bit of an ominous feel, even to me.”
“I think Aethelred did that on purpose,” Luke said. “He didn’t appreciate casual visitors, so he discouraged them with cheap props like the trees and his raven, though I doubt she’s still alive.”
“You never know.” Abigail glanced at him. “Some of those familiars live a long time.”
They crested the hill. A wave of homesickness, poignant and unexpected, twisted Luke’s stomach into a knot. The old wizard had been a lot like a father to him, even though he’d never actually admitted it until right now. Before they even crossed the clearing to the rambling stone house with smoke curling from its chimneys, the front door flew open and Aethelred, a little older and a little grayer, hurtled down the steps and burst into the yard.
He clutched a richly-carved staff and he wore the same stone pendant he’d loaned Luke that awful night his power had claimed him. “Son!” he cried. “Luke! You came home.”
Tears pricked behind his lids, hot and bitter. Luke vaulted from his horse and ran into the old man’s arms. “Aethelred.” He clasped the old mage close. “I— Christ, but I’m glad you’re still alive. It would have been awful if I’d never seen you again.”
“Finally realized that did you.” The wizard nodded knowingly. “Good thing you didn’t wait too long.”
“You never did mince words.” Luke inhaled the familiar scents of smoke and magic and the truth of Aethelred’s greeting etched into his soul. This was his home. The old wizard had known it all along, but he’d been wise enough to realize Luke had to find his own way back.
“Looks as if you did a fair bit of growing up along the way.” Aethelred stepped back and gazed at him from arm’s length, his shrewd dark eyes missing nothing, but then they never had.
Abigail dismounted and walked toward them, her face wreathed in smiles. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Abigail.” Luke said.
Aethelred narrowed his eyes. “Witch, eh?” He nodded as if something pleased him. “You’ll be a good match for my boy.”
A huge, black raven winged its way out the open front door, cawing. “Back. You came back. Fool.”
Luke held out his forearm and the raven landed on it with a solid thunk, talons digging deep. He stroked the bird’s shiny, black head. “You were right about me being a fool.”
“Fool, fool,” the raven cawed sagely. She swiveled her head and stared at Abigail with her beady, avian eyes. “Pretty woman. Too good for fool.”
Abigail laughed. “Yup. I tell him that all the time.”
“Are you staying for a spell?” Hope flared deep in the old mage’s eyes as he looked from Luke to Abigail.
Luke nodded. “For a few days, if you’ll have us. I hoping you’ll bless our marriage.”
“I’d be honored, and you staying would be wonderful, just wonderf
ul.” Aethelred’s smile could have lit a thousand fires. “I’ve watched you in my scrying pool—and my mirror. And I prayed to the goddess you’d find your way home, but years went by. The longer it was, the less hope I had that I’d ever lay eyes on you again in this life.”
Luke swallowed hard, still too close to tears for comfort. The raven’s talons digging into his arm helped steady him. Who knew? Maybe that was why the bird was there. It would be very like her to do something like that. She was so canny, he’d often wondered if Aethelred hadn’t done something magical to augment her wisdom.
“It was wrong of me to stay gone for so long,” he said. Abigail wove an arm around his waist, offering silent support. “A lot happened here that I had a hard time coming to terms with.”
“Have you yet?” Aethelred cut right to the point, as always.
“Not totally, but I’m closer than I’ve ever been before.”
“Excellent.” The wizard smiled warmly. “Let’s get those horses taken care of. Then you can come on inside and we’ll get a pot of tea going. I want to hear everything you’ve been up to since you left.”
“I thought you watched me in your mirror and your pool.”
“Well, it wasn’t as if that was the only thing I did.” Aethelred rolled his dark eyes. “I looked in on you from time to time is all, so there’re some mighty big gaps.” He shifted his penetrating gaze to Abigail. “I want to hear all about you too, young lady, though you’re not all that young.”
“No,” she grinned affably, “that I’m not. But I’d be pleased to tell you anything you want to know.”
Aethelred rubbed his hands together, a gesture Luke remembered well. It meant he was excited about getting into the meat of something. “Is that barn still round the back?” Luke asked.
The wizard nodded. “It hasn’t fallen down yet. I’ll walk with you. Good for me to stretch my legs a bit. I spend entirely too much time sitting in front of the fire.”
“Do you still have students?” Luke asked. As soon as the question was out, he became aware of a silence sitting around the old house that answered him better than words.
“Not anymore.” Aethelred shook his head sadly. “You’ll recall your distrust of magic, son. You had a healthy enough dose for an army. Well, it’s gotten a whole lot worse since the wraiths showed up that time. Folk convinced themselves it was people like me who were a magnet for trouble.”
“It didn’t seem that bad before I left.” They reached the barn, and Luke set about unsaddling his horse and removing its bridle. The raven shifted to his shoulder to free his arms. Once Abigail had her saddle off, she shepherded their horses into the barn.
“The undercurrents were there,” Aethelred said, “but you and I didn’t leave here that much, so we were spared the brunt of it. Students were thinning out even in your time, though.”
Luke thought back. He’d kept to himself so much, he’d scarcely noticed things like that. “How long have you been here by yourself?”
“Better’n ten years, but I haven’t been alone.” He jerked his chin toward the raven that had moved to Luke’s shoulder. “Mollie’s been with me and she’s good company. Plus every once in a while, there’s a catastrophe in the village and someone runs to find me.” He cracked a grin. “You’ll remember. It’s much the same thing you did that night.”
“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” Abigail said slowly as she emerged from the barn, “but I’ve sort of been eavesdropping. After we leave here, Luke and I are headed for Utah Territory with my Coven. I know you’re not a witch, but we welcome all magic wielders. Luke’s a mage and he’s worked for the Coven for a long time. Anyway, we can talk about it, but if you’d like a bit of a change of scenery, maybe you could come with us. We have plenty of room in our wagon. Of course, your bird would be most welcome too.” She met his dark eyes and smiled warmly. “It might be better than being here all by yourselves.”
“Why that’s extremely kind of you to offer.” Aethelred turned away, but not before Luke saw strong emotion distort his craggy features.
“We can talk about it,” Luke echoed, hoping the wizard would take Abigail up on her offer.
“I’d like that, son. How about that pot of tea?” Aethelred started for the house, his face still averted.
“I’m right behind you,” Luke said.
“Me too,” Mollie quorked from his shoulder.
“Well, don’t forget me.” Abigail laughed cheerily and trotted to Luke’s side. He draped an arm around her waist and together they followed Aethelred up the back stairs and into his house.
About the Author
Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent. She’s also a mountaineer and vagabond at heart. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years back. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines, magazines, and anthologies. Her paranormal romance and urban fantasy novels are widely available in e-format and print. When she’s not writing, she’s skiing, hiking, or climbing with her husband and three wolf hybrids.
http://anngimpel.blogspot.com
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Abandoned by Becca Jameson
Daniel turned and started to walk away, but after two steps, he froze. He lifted his chin to the air and closed his eyes as he inhaled long and slow. His body went rigid, and he fisted his hands at his sides as he inhaled again.
Someone behind him gasped. And a tiny voice he hadn’t heard before spoke. “Shit.”
Daniel spun around.
Ashley was still there, but her eyes were huge and wide, and her mouth hung open. “Oh,” she muttered. She glanced back and forth between Daniel and the woman who’d approached from behind Ashley.
His gaze slid to the newcomer. She stood on the tiny porch as rigid as he’d felt, her arms at her sides, her brow furrowed, the sweetest red line running down her pale cheek from sleeping on that side. Gorgeous blonde curls hung down her back, some falling over her shoulders. She was underweight, frail, scared, shaking. Beautiful. And his.
“Shit,” she repeated under her breath.
He smiled at her. Ashley stepped to the side several paces and ceased to exist.
“Unexpected, yes. But surely you can come up with something more enthusiastic than ‘shit’,” he teased.
Her mouth opened and her eyes widened. “I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.”
He nodded. “You did.” He stepped closer, but she backed up a pace into the doorway, so he stopped. “You must be Allison.”
“I am.” She took a deep breath. And held it. Her eyes fluttered closed on her exhale. “Shit.”
“You have a rich wealth of vocabulary.” He grinned at her.
Her eyes popped open again. “I— I’m sorry. I—”
“No worries. I’m kidding you. It’s shocking. I agree.”
Ashley cleared her throat to his side. “I’m going to go back to the main house. I think…” She turned and left without finishing her statement. Daniel didn’t glance her way.
“This can’t be happening,” Allison said. She fisted her hands together in front of her and squeezed one with the other. She eased forward until she plopped down on the front steps of the cabin.
Daniel worried she would fall before she sat, but he gritted his teeth and let her lower herself to the step on her own. She wasn’t remotely ready for him to approach.
She set her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.
“It’s not exactly what I had in mind for today, either. I’m sorry to shock you.” He shook his head to clear his mind. This is a woman who’s been held hostage for a year in the remote woods of Minnesota. You’re freaking her out.
> He couldn’t bring himself to walk away, though. And besides, no way would he just leave her sitting there alone.
Her entire body shook.
He ached to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. But for her, the world was not okay right now, and the last thing she needed was a man getting in her space and pressuring her.
Deep breaths, Daniel. Think.
Unchartered territory had him floundering for words that wouldn’t come. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he spoke again. “Don’t panic.” He backed up a step. He could tell she was close to hyperventilating. “It’s going to be okay.” Somehow. Right?
He wasn’t sure he believed his own words. Suddenly nothing was okay. Not even for him. He wasn’t in a place in life to take on a mate. He was committed to the North American Reserves for the foreseeable future. Having a mate didn’t fit into that plan. Too much was happening in the world today. He felt a calling to help the cause, not to mate.
Except there was no denying what lay in front of his eyes. Her scent would haunt him. He had no choice. This was what Fate had dropped on his doorstep, and he had to face his new reality all wrapped up in the least tidy of packaging ever.
She lifted her face, her eyes red and huge. “Nothing about me is ‘okay’. I haven’t even wrapped my mind around the fact that I’ve been rescued. I haven’t seen my parents yet.”
“We’ll deal with it. Everything. One minute at a time.” He crouched in front of her to bring his face to her level. He remained several yards away, though he ached to inch closer.
She shook her head. “There can’t be a ‘we’. I’m not ready. I’m not even sure who I am right now.” She looked away.
His chest squeezed tight as though she’d gripped it with her fist and yanked his heart out. Common sense told him she was in pain and unable to deal with this explosion of information right now. And she had every right to be. But still he swallowed the hurt. Man up, dude. This mate of yours needs space and time. Don’t take it personally.
