THE NEXT MORNING—OR what Sarah and Jim presumed to be the next morning—had them waking more rested than they’d been in a long time. In a house they didn’t recognize. But Sarah felt no fear as she noted her children in the room across from hers. She checked on both and found them blister free, healthy looking, no fevers detected on either forehead.
She returned to the other bedroom to find her husband awake.
“How are they?” he asked.
“Fine. They look perfect, pox-free. Is that even possible overnight?” She placed a palm over her heart and turned, peering out the nearest window. “We’re in the country, like I always dreamed we’d be. This must be the start of our faerie adventure,” she said with a huge grin. Then she frowned. “But I don’t see any faeries.”
“Read this.” Jim pointed her to the note on the nightstand.
She read the beautiful calligraphy handwriting and then read it once more.
Blessed be those who help the faeriefolk.
Sarah frowned, turned toward Jim. “What do you think this means?”
“Look at what’s attached to the note.”
Two slips of paper magically appeared, attached to the topmost note. The first was a note to her husband.
Mr. Wilson, I’ve seen your handiwork over the years. Don’t need to know anything else. If you agree to work with me, your salary will be set by you, and you’ll begin on Tuesday, January 2, 1900. Arrive at 8:00 a.m. Ask for me.—Stanley Stone, Owner of American Footwear
“Oh, Jim! What do you think of this?”
He laughed. “Either I’ve died and gone to heaven, or else I’ve finally got myself a job with security. And now you don’t have to work. You can homeschool our children, if you wish. Or open up a neighborhood school for the local kids too. It’s up to you.”
“But where do you think we are?” she asked.
Jim nodded at the notes in her hand. “Read the last note.”
Dear Mrs. Wilson,
My daughter, Susie, has missed Maggie and you in the classroom. I hope your family is all well soon. Susie told me of her grand adventures with Maggie and the faeries. In the name of the Christmas spirit—and the faeries—I have deeded to you and your husband my grandmother’s house on the outskirts of town. It’s sat empty long enough. So I’m sure you would make wonderful use of it. And I feel it was meant to be your family home now because my grandmother’s name was Margaret Sarah.—James Feldman, father of Susie Feldman.
Sarah hugged her husband. “Christmas with the faeries—what could be more magical!”
About the Author
Jennifer has been writing in one form or another since she was a teenager. She currently lives in Florida with her family, but loves the mountains of Virginia where she was born. Her writings include poetry, short stories, and since completing her young adult fantasy novel, she has been hard at work on a sequel. When she’s not hanging out with her characters, her favorite activities are reading, running and spending time with family. You can join her mailing list by visiting her website at www.jwgarrett.com.Jennifer would love to hear from you! Please consider leaving a review at your favorite site, or feel free to drop a note at her website.Thanks for reading!
Read more at Jennifer Garrett’s site.
The Fae of Boots and Laces Page 4
