“Listen,” he said with excitement. “The birds are talking.”
“About you,” she said and ran up to fling herself in his arms.
His well-toned body took the impact with nothing more than a mere flinch and his arms swung around her, holding her tight.
“What do they say?”
Tempest wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him quickly. “They tell the woods to watch and wait.”
“For what?” he asked and kissed her back.
“For you.”
“Me?”
She wiggled herself out of his arms and he reluctantly let her go. “They talk of your progress and yet they caution that you are who you are.”
“You understand them?” he asked, surprised.
“They are part of me,” she answered with pride. “Good witches and nature are one.”
“So can you tell me if they’ve waited to pass judgment on me?”
“They pass no judgment; it’s not in their nature. They wait, they watch and they learn. Then they see the flow of things.”
“How?”
“Life,” she said with a laugh, realizing he was like a newborn babe that required learning. While Marcus and his memories were a part of him, there was a stronger part of him that was Michael. What happened when the two completely merged as one would be the ultimate test.
“Flow,” he said, testing the rhythm of it. “I like that.”
She hooked her arm in his. “And they like what they see in you.”
He walked with her. “Yet they continue to wait.”
She nodded. “They watch and learn.”
“They watch me?”
She nodded again.
“They will learn about me?”
Her head nodded once more.
“Then they see the flow of things, as you said.”
She looked at him with tenderness in her eyes that could only be from love. “Life, Michael, what will you do with it?”
He stopped walking and took her in his arms. “What you’re saying is that life is a choice and soon the time will come for me to make a choice.”
She smiled at his wisdom.
He kissed her softly and from the heart. “The choice is mine.”
She raised gentle hands to cup his face. “It always was.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Early the next morning Michael and Tempest decided to explore the woods once again. They both were aware that time was drawing short and soon, very soon, Michael would have to make a choice. But for now they wanted to make magical memories to always have to remember.
They were dressed comfortably for the crisp spring day, Michael in blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt and Tempest in black knit pants and an oversized sweater.
They were about to set out when a commotion sounded at the front door. Michael immediately went to the door, Tempest close on his heels.
He swung it open.
“I told you that you miscalculated the distance,” Sarina said, annoyed, and brushed wood chips from her pale-yellow knit dress which flowed softly over her rounded stomach.
“So I landed us outside the house instead of inside,” Ali said with an indifferent shrug. “Big deal. We’re here, aren’t we?” She chased a couple of spiders off her bright pink oversized sweater that hugged her protruding stomach.
“You landed us in the woodpile,” Sarina said, hands on hips, glaring at her.
Tempest quickly stepped around a startled Michael. “Are you two all right?”
Ali spoke up. “We’re fine. Your sister just happens to be in a complaining mood.”
“I am not,” Sarina said defensively.
“Come in,” Tempest insisted, hoping to calm the bickering women.
“I’m starving,” Ali said and kept walking toward the kitchen though she paused a moment to say, “Hi, Michael.”
“Good idea,” Sarina said following her, “as long as you don’t cook. Hi, Michael.”
Tempest plucked a fat little spider off her sister’s back as she passed and placed it outside before giving Michael a quick kiss on the cheek and then catching up with the warring pair.
Michael chose to escape, hurrying outside and into the woods.
The two were already setting the kettle to boil and looking for food when Tempest entered the kitchen. “Sit, both of you, I’ll see to conjuring up food.”
Ali rubbed her hands together like a joyous child and took a seat at the table. “I love conjured food; it’s fast and delicious.”
Sarina joined her at the table. “You better watch your weight. You know you’ve put on more than me.”
“One pound, one lousy pound,” Ali said, waving a finger in her face.
Tempest shook her head and snapped her fingers, setting the table with a choice of biscuits, buns and fresh fruit. “Eat so you will both stop arguing.”
“We’re not arguing,” Sarina snapped.
“Right,” Ali said, though the word was barely distinguishable, her mouth being full.
Tempest joined them at the table after setting a pot of tea to steep. “Do your husbands know that you’re here?”
They both laughed and Sarina answered, “Are you kidding?”
“They forbade us from coming here,” Ali said. “Can you imagine being forbidden from going someplace? What would you do?”
Tempest smiled. “I’d go.”
“That’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Sarina said, reaching her hand out to offer a comforting touch to her sister. “Though the main reason is to see how you are.”
Ali pointed her finger at the teapot and proceeded to serve tea. “How are you? And how are things with Michael?”
Tempest sighed. “I’m fine.”
“Liar,” Sarina said with a weak smile.
“All right,” she admitted. “I’m concerned, but there really isn’t much I can do about anything. The spell was cast; it was allowed to unfold and it now seeks fulfillment. How it will be fulfilled is the true question.”
“Does Michael understand who he once was?” Ali asked, reaching for a biscuit.
“Yes,” Tempest said. “He is gaining insight to his past deeds and attempting to understand himself. But Marcus’s power intoxicates, and it’s a hard force to ignore.”
“Does he understand he fights himself?” Sarina asked.
“He fights a part of himself he once was,” Tempest corrected.
“The spell helped him to make changes, to see things differently and to want to be different himself. His old ways no longer suit him and yet he can create new ways that would serve Marcus well in this world.”
“Or serve his new self well,” Ali said, still munching.
“I think something disturbs you,” Sarina said, holding her sister’s hand.
Tempest wore a strained smile. “I love Michael so very much. He is everything and more than Marcus ever was and I fear losing him forever.”
Tears clouded Ali’s eyes. “Michael is a good guy; he’ll know what to do.”
Sarina offered her own encouragement. “When I first met Michael I could feel the goodness in him. He cared about people, genuinely cared, and I could tell that he cared about you, though his feelings confused him.”
Tempest smiled and recalled happy memories. “He thought me crazy. When I ran into him with the car—”
“You ran into him with your car?” Ali asked in disbelief. “No wonder he thought you were crazy.”
“He didn’t think I was crazy for running him down with my car in the snowstorm,” Tempest explained. “He thought I was crazy for kissing a stranger.”
“Let me get this straight,” Ali said, waving a honey bun in her face. “You run him down with your car and then you kiss him in the middle of a snowstorm.”
“Well, he mentioned something about kissing it and making it all better,” Tempest said, as if that explained it.
Ali waved the bun in the air. “There you go, now I’ve got it. You kissed a stranger to make his boo-boo all
better.” She shook her head. “You are crazy.”
“Ali,” Sarina scolded.
“Oh, don’t tell me she’s the Ancient One again. She’s a woman plain and simple.” Ali looked at Tempest, her creamy complexion flawless, her pale-green eyes stunning and her fiery hair raging in glorious waves. “Well maybe not plain and simple to the eye, but inside she’s a woman with a woman’s needs, which means she makes stupid mistakes as only women can.”
Tempest laughed. “There’s a lesson in that statement somewhere.”
“Men are simple creatures,” Ali continued with her lesson. “Give them food and give them sex and they’re satisfied. Throw in love and you’ve got mass confusion. They have no idea how to deal with it within themselves or with the woman they love.”
Sarina giggled. “You do have a point. They think they know, they attempt to know and they often brag about love, but they haven’t got a clue.”
“I think Michael knows about love,” Tempest said softly.
“The life he chose taught him much about it through hard-won lessons. He sees the truth in people and he seeks the truth. His path hasn’t been easy but he has walked it with pride and determination and in the end I think his strength of character will help him make the right choice.”
“Do you think he understands the spell enough for him to make the right choice?” Ali asked, dusting crumbs from her hands over her empty plate.
“I can only hope,” she answered.
Ali turned to Sarina. “Can’t you see the outcome?”
“It is not for anyone to see,” Sarina said.
“Then what good is all of our hocus-pocus if we can’t do anything to help?” Ali asked, frustrated.
Sarina and Ali turned to Tempest for the answer.
Her answer was an astute one. “We always help. It is how that help is put to use or if it is used at all that matters. I wrapped Marcus in a powerful spell and added much love to it. That love followed him throughout the spell. What he does with it—recognizes it or disregards it—is entirely up to him. But never doubt we help. We can do no less. It is who we are.”
“You are a good teacher,” Ali said with much respect.
“We are all teachers,” Tempest advised.
“What do you think we should have for lunch?” Sarina asked with a grin.
“Tuna salad,” Ali said. “I definitely want tuna salad.”
Tempest shook her head and laughed.
o0o
Michael couldn’t wait any longer to return to the cottage. His stomach was growling for food and his tired feet were protesting an extensive walk. He hoped Sarina and Ali would be gone when he returned. He didn’t understand why he wished to be alone with Tempest; he only knew that he did.
And besides, he wasn’t good with two hormonally raging women.
The smell of fresh baking cookies and laughing voices told him he wasn’t going to get his way. He thought at first to go straight upstairs to wait out their visit, but instead his nose followed the delicious scent of chocolate chip cookies straight into the kitchen.
“Michael,” Ali called out in welcome. “Have a cookie.”
Michael wasn’t certain he was in the right kitchen. He had never seen it such a mess before and he had never seen three women who looked as if they had been through a battle with cookie dough. He cautiously approached Ali’s outstretched hand.
“Want to help us finish?” Sarina asked, licking her dough-covered fingers.
Michael took the offered cookie and stepped around the two women to get to Tempest’s side and safety, though when he noticed her dough-splattered face and clothes he wondered if he had made the right choice.
“What happened?” he whispered as he kissed her cheek.
Tempest smiled with delight. “We played mortals.”
He stared at the cookie in his hand.
“It’s good; try it,” Sarina urged.
With three women, two of them pregnant and eagerly awaiting his verdict, he wisely popped the cookie into his mouth.
Surprisingly, it tasted better than good. “Wow, it’s delicious.”
Ali squealed. “Wait until Sebastian learns that I can make delicious chocolate chip cookies just as a mortal does.”
Michael couldn’t help but smile at her sense of accomplishment and he praised them all. “Good work, ladies.”
They beamed like prized students.
His stomach chose to growl at that moment and before he knew it all three women had him sitting at the kitchen table and were fussing over him. He had to laugh; the scene appeared so comical to him and yet so heartwarming. They cared about him, actually cared for his well-being. He could feel their concern; Tempest’s being the most prevalent. And he had to admit it felt awfully good to be fussed over. He actually felt that he was part of a family, an honest-to-goodness family.
Witches though they were, they were still family.
“I’ll make him a tuna salad sandwich,” Ali said.
“No!” the other two shouted.
Michael grew alarmed.
“He doesn’t like chopped pickles and hot peppers in his tuna salad,” Tempest said. “I’ll make him a ham sandwich.”
“Chopped pickles and hot peppers?” he said.
Tempest placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll make you a ham sandwich.”
“I don’t know,” Michael said. “Ali’s tuna salad sounds pretty good to me.”
Ali grinned and went to the refrigerator. “One tuna salad coming right up.”
Michael ate two sandwiches, chips and half a dozen chocolate chip cookies while the women finished baking and cleaning.
They laughed and teased each other and talked of family, friends and babies. He watched the way Tempest looked at them with warmth, love and a touch of envy.
She wanted a child.
And he wanted to give her one.
The realization struck him hard. He wanted a full life with Tempest, babies and all.
“Look at the time,” Sarina said, glancing at the clock. “We better get back home.”
Ali half filled a paper bag with cookies.
“You can’t take that bag with you,” Sarina warned. “We’re supposed to be in Edinburgh shopping. How are you going to explain cookies?”
“How are we going to explain that we didn’t buy a single solitary thing?” Ali asked.
Michael laughed. “She’s got you there, Sarina.”
Sarina wasn’t one to accept defeat. “We’ll pop down to the village and buy a few things before we go home.”
“Candy!” Ali said, her eyes going wide.
Sarina wagged a finger in her face. “You better watch your wei—” She stopped abruptly, chewed on her lower lip and said, “Pecan rolls.”
“Fudge with nuts,” Ali said, her eyes gleaming.
“Let’s go,” Sarina said, “but this time I cast the travel spell.”
“I can get it right,” Ali insisted.
“I am not being deposited in another woodpile, or heaven forbid a rooftop,” Sarina said and hurried over to Tempest to give her a kiss. “Be well and take care. I love you.”
While Ali said her good-bye to Tempest, Sarina walked over to Michael. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Love my sister as she has loved you... unselfishly.”
He nodded, knowing he would have no problem with her request.
Ali hurried over to him and kissed his other cheek. “There’s some of my tuna salad left. Enjoy and take care, sweetie.”
“Put your finger down Ali, I’m casting the spell,” Sarina ordered.
“I can do it,” Ali insisted.
“Let me,” Michael offered and with a snap of his fingers the two women disappeared.
Tempest looked at him with concern.
“I sent them directly to the sweetshop,” he said and held his hand out to her.
She walked over to where he sat at the kitchen table, her hand reaching out for him. He grasped it and pulled her to him, his arms wrapping aroun
d her waist and his face pressing firmly to her tummy. She ran her hands through his hair and held him close to her.
They remained that way for several silent moments and then Michael drew his head away from her and looked up to say, “If we made a baby now it would be conceived of love.”
Tempest thought on his words. He was right; any child conceived now would definitely be born of love. She loved him and he loved her—it was plain and simple yet deeply truthful.
And if now she conceived a child and she lost him to the spell she would at least have a part of him with her forever.
A selfish thought.
An honest thought.
A difficult decision.
“You fight what you want. Why?”
“There is much for us to settle before we can think of a child.”
He pressed his hand to her stomach. “We have settled many things already. Why not solidify our love by creating a child from that love?”
She had to keep things in perspective. She couldn’t be selfish now after all these years. After he fulfilled the spell there would be time to think of a child. Now was not the time, no matter how much she wished to conceive a baby with him.
“There is time for a child; there is no need to rush.”
His annoyance rippled over her and she braced herself against the chilled shiver that rushed her skin. She closed her eyes and was reminded of Marcus.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
She slowly opened her eyes.
“Who am I, Tempest? Who do you see when you look at me?”
She traced the scar by his eye, caressed his cheek, and ran a tender finger down his nose and over his chin. With her touch came his emotions and she allowed herself to feel one and all of them and she knew without a doubt who he was. “I see Michael, the man I love and the man who loves me.”
“You don’t doubt my love, do you?”
She shook her head. “No, I am confident of your love.”
“Do you doubt who I am?”
That question caused her to pause in thought.
He answered. “Your hesitation tells me you doubt.”
Her hand cupped his cheek. “I don’t doubt you, Michael.”
“You doubt the me that is Marcus?”
She shut her eyes again.
Magical Memories Page 29
