5. Rachel

5

RACHEL

S erenity giggled as she spooned cereal into her mouth. Milk dribbled down her chin, and I reached over to wipe it away with a napkin.

“Are you excited to hang out with Aunt Maribel today?” I asked. “You’ll get to have a whole day of fun with her while I help Mr. Ellis with something.”

Serenity’s big eyes lit up. “We’re having a fancy tea party.”

“I remember.”

I carried her cereal bowl to the sink to wash it. My gaze drifted out the window, watching for Ellis’s truck to appear. He should be here any minute.

A knot formed in my stomach.

Helping him gather ingredients for a ritual to rid a possessed raven shifter of an evil spirit wasn’t exactly something I thought I’d be doing today.

The conversation I’d had with Aunt Maribel last night popped into my head. When I’d asked why she told Ellis I needed to go with him to gather what she needed, she’d given me a cryptic smile and said, “The wind knows when to guide a leaf, even when the leaf doesn’t know where it’s headed.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but when I pressed, all she’d said next was to trust the path.

“When will Mr. Ellis be here, Mommy?” Serenity asked, sliding out of her chair.

“Soon, sweetie,” I replied, glancing out the window again at the gloomy, rain-soaked woods. While the storm hadn’t been as bad as they’d predicted, we’d still gotten more rain than I cared for. Thank goodness it had let up. Although, from the looks of it, it didn’t seem like it would for long.

“Let’s go brush your teeth,” I said, drying my hands on a dishtowel.

We made our way down the hall as Aunt Maribel exited her bedroom. She wore her sky blue long-sleeved dress with a silver shawl draped over her shoulders. It was an outfit I always felt made her look like someone’s fairy godmother.

“Good morning, sweet girls,” she said while dancing her way down the hall past us.

Serenity giggled and then started dancing, too. A smile tugged at my lips. This cottage might be tiny, but these stone walls could never be thought of as cold. There was too much love and laughter between them.

I helped Serenity brush her teeth, listening for the sound of Ellis pulling up outside. The instant I heard a vehicle, my heart kickstarted inside my chest.

“He’s here,” Aunt Maribel said in a sing-song voice from down the hall.

I rinsed Serenity’s toothbrush in the sink and then scooped her up in my arms. Making my way down the hall, I wondered how awkward today would be riding around with him. After setting Serenity down on the couch, I stepped to the front door and opened it. Ellis stood there with a calm expression, but I could see the same tension shifting through his eyes that I felt.

“Morning,” he said, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“Morning.”

“Are you ready?” he asked, glancing around me inside the cottage.

“Yeah. One second,” I said, turning to give Serenity a hug. She bounded off the couch and bolted for me, a wide smile spread onto her face. “Be good for Aunt Maribel, okay?”

She wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed me a little too tight. “I will, Mommy. I’ll miss you.”

Her words tugged at my heartstrings. “I’ll miss you too, sweetie. But you’re going to have so much fun today. I’m sure of it.”

“I know.” She smiled before releasing me and running to Aunt Maribel.

“We’re going to have the grandest tea party this side of Crescent Creek, but first, we must dress the part. Feather hats, fluffy boas, and the fanciest of jewelry!” She took Serenity’s hand.

Serenity squealed with excitement.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said, turning to face Ellis again.

We walked to his truck, and he moved to open the passenger door for me. As I climbed in, I couldn’t help but glance back at the cottage one last time. Serenity and Aunt Maribel were watching us from the living room window. I waved and then laughed as Serenity pressed her face against the window, making a pig nosed funny face. Ellis spotted them as he climbed in and chuckled.

“She’s cute,” he said.

“Thank you.”

He cranked his truck to life and pulled away from the cottage. “You wanted to head to the grocery store first, right?”

“Yeah. Salt is the quickest, easiest thing to grab on Aunt Maribel’s list.”

“Is it regular table salt?”

“Not exactly,” I said, buckling my seatbelt. “It’s pink Himalayan salt. She likes it because it’s pink.”

Ellis glanced at me, raising a brow. “Okay. Good to know.”

“Yeah, Aunt Maribel can be a little eccentric,” I said, chuckling.

“So I’ve heard.”

“I’m sure. There are lots of stories about her floating around town. Some of them she started herself.”

He glanced at me again for a brief moment before turning his eyes back to the road. “Seriously?”

“Yep. She says it keeps people scared of her, which keeps them away—for the most part.”

“Interesting. So, is she even a shaman?”

“She’s the definition of the word,” I said, meaning it. An immediate sense of relief seemed to flow through him at my words. “She has a special connection to the spiritual world. Sometimes I swear it’s almost as though she’s a bridge between the physical and spiritual realms.”

“I can see that. She mentioned something about talking to the wind before.”

“Yep. She says that a lot.” I tucked a stray stand of hair behind my ear. “But that’s not how she makes her living.”

“How does she make a living, then?”

“Tarot.”

He didn’t say anything to that, but he didn’t need to. I could see the thoughts swirling through his mind while he drove. He was fascinated by Aunt Maribel, which I understood. I’d been fascinated by her my whole life.

“She was right about the storm missing us for the most part last night,” he said.

“I’m glad.”

“Me, too.” He cracked his window, allowing cool air to float into the cab.

It felt damp, cool, and seemed to cling to everything—like a warning. Suddenly, the raven shifter popped into my head.

Xander.

The thought of him being possessed by the evil spirit of someone chilled me to my core.

What if something went wrong with the ritual? What if Aunt Maribel couldn’t clear the spirit from this guy? What if he couldn’t be stopped?

The rain started up again. Heavy drops pelted against the windshield as Ellis drove. He switched his windshield wipers on as visibility became poor and my stomach flipped.

“I guess we spoke too soon,” he said. “Man, it’s really coming down.”

“Can you pull over?” I asked, my voice shaky as panic tightened my chest.

Ellis glanced at me, and without a word, pulled his truck to the side of the road, parking under a canopy of trees that did little to shield us from the sudden downpour.

“You okay?” he asked gently, turning to face me. His voice was so calm, so steady, but all I could focus on was the sound of the rain pounding against the truck.

Instantly, I was back in my old SUV.

It was pouring out. James was driving us home while singing along with the song on the radio. There was a jolt to the SUV and a loud noise—and then we were airborne.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, forcing the memories from my mind.

“I hate driving in the rain,” I admitted, my heart still hammering wildly inside my chest.

“We can sit here until it stops,” he said, rolling his window up and turning on the defrost.

There was something so patient and caring about the way he’d said it, but it was the compassion and concern I spotted in his eyes that really made me feel at ease.

“My husband,” I said, wanting to explain myself. Not because I felt like I needed to, or that I owed it to him, but because I genuinely wanted to. “He died in a car accident a little over a year ago. It was raining like this and the roads were slick while he was driving us home from a date night. Everything was fine until someone hydroplaned next to us, losing control, and hit our SUV. We slammed into the guardrail so hard that we flipped right over it. I broke my arm, but James didn’t make it.”

Ellis stayed silent, but I could still feel his gaze on me. I didn’t have to look at him to know his eyes would be filled with empathy, not pity. It made it easier to keep talking.

“Ever since then, driving in the rain freaks me out,” I admitted. “That was part of the problem the other night. I couldn’t get my flat tire off because I was freaked out about the storm. I didn’t want to be on the road with Serenity in the car. Honestly, I didn’t want to be on the road at all.”

I dropped my gaze to my hands, feeling the weight of everything I’d said hanging suspended in the air of the cab.

“I’m so sorry, Rachel,” Ellis said, his voice filled with genuine compassion. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you. How hard it must still be.”

I glanced at him, surprised by how much his words comforted me. He wasn’t just saying what he thought I needed to hear; he truly meant his words. I could feel it.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I don’t talk about it much, but in moments like this, when the rain is so heavy, it feels like it was yesterday.”

“It must have been hard taking care of Serenity all on your own, too.”

“Sort of, I had Aunt Maribel to help. We moved in with her right after the accident. I couldn’t lift Serenity until my arm healed, and honestly, I wasn’t in the best emotional place or frame of mind for a while either.”

“Which is to be expected.”

“Aunt Maribel was a saint. She was my lifeline.” I smiled. “If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know how I would have made it through.”

“She seems like a sweet woman.”

“She is, but don’t let her fool you,” I said, locking eyes with him. “She can handle her own, too.”

“I have no doubt.” He grinned. “I can feel her wisdom—her power. My bobcat can, too.”

“So that’s what you are. I was wondering.”

“Yeah.” He smoothed a hand along the back of his neck. “Does that scare you? Me being a bobcat shifter?”

I shook my head. “No, not at all. Aunt Maribel’s a raccoon shifter, so I’m pretty used to the idea of shifters by now. Honestly, I think it’s fascinating, not frightening. It makes me wish I had something like that in me,” I admitted. “But I don’t have anything like that. I can’t even speak to spirits or hear the wind whisper like Aunt Maribel. Whatever gift I’m supposed to have hasn’t surfaced yet, and I’m starting to wonder if it ever will. For now, I’m a wannabe shaman trying to keep up.” I shrugged.

“I’m sure it will,” he said, and for whatever reason, he seemed to believe what he said even though he barely knew me. “It looks like the rain is letting up.”

“It does. We should get going.”

He shifted into drive, and we crept back onto the road.

The rest of the drive to the store was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt soothing. I felt acutely aware of Ellis’s presence beside me as a feeling of gratitude and something else I couldn’t name swelled within my chest.

A spark had been lit inside me, one that warmed me from the inside out.