Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Next morning, with Fancypants on my shoulder, I walked over to May's house. I owned three acres of land, but Bran and his mother May had five. They kept a suburban farm, and they raised all sorts of goods for the local farmers market. They sold honey year-round, if their stash held out that long, and fruits and vegetables and other things every season except winter. The trail connecting our two parcels of land was spacious. Once I had bought my house and met May and Bran, Bran helped me widen the path. He had plans to go through, placing stepping stones so that when it rained it wouldn't be a mud pit.

It occurred to me that when Bran I got married, we could live in my house, and Bran would still be steps away from the farm and his mother. But there were so many logistics to figure out, and if Faron joined us, the complications only grew. As the head of the Olympic Wolfpack, he wouldn't be able to live off the commune. I knew Bran wouldn't want to move there, and honestly, I liked my house. So there were a lot of questions to answer. But we'd take them one at time, as they came. Life was hard enough without borrowing trouble.

The day was overcast, but rain was expected to hold off until evening. Right now, the clouds parted and sunbreaks peered through the gloom, letting the cool autumn light filter through. Woodsmoke drifted on the currents, the scent mirroring the mood of the day.

I loved these crisp autumn days. They felt so vibrant, stirring my blood and making me glad to be alive. As we walked in silence—even Fancypants was noticeably quiet—leaves crunched under my feet. Along the sides of the path, still more leaves had gathered. Most of the undergrowth was like that, thick layers of debris carpeting the forest floor. Old needles from the trees mingled with fresh autumn leaves and the ever-present moss that grew on everything in the woodland. The trunks of the trees wore sweaters of velvet moss, and still more moss—oak moss—hung down like soft beards trailing from the branches of the tall conifers.

Birdsong echoed through the air. I liked to think they were discussing sheltering from the storms, and hunting the worms that popped up from the rains, drawn to the surface like long brown serpents. The wind had eased up and now was a steady, gentle breeze, whispering through the barren trees. Their stark silhouettes rose into the air where, at night, they cast a ghostly shadow through the forest, standing sentinel over everything that walked beneath their watchful gaze.

Fancypants looked around, his gaze flickering every which way. "The forest is so beautiful. What will winter be like? I don't know what to expect since this is my first year out of the egg, although I can see some memories you have stored away. Nothing personal, just shadowed images of the forest wrapped in white."

"For one thing, the weather will be a lot colder than it is now. And yes, we usually get snow here. That's also cold, although it melts when you hold it too long. Just be sure to wear the boots that I bought you." I had custom boots made for Fancypants to fit his odd little feet. They wouldn't rip from his talons, but I wasn't sure how dragonettes handled the weather when it got too cold and I didn't want him to freeze.

"I know what snow is," he said. "But how much do you get? Does touching it make it melt?" He sounded excited.

I knew that once he went out in the snow, it would be hard to get him to come back inside. Dragonettes were playful, and Fancypants delighted in new finds.

"It depends. Snow's not a static event. Some years there will be almost none, another year still so much it's hard to drive through. It's beautiful while it's still fresh, but when it starts to melt near spring, it's not nearly as fun. It gets slushy and dirty and there comes a point where all you want is for it to go away."

We were near the end of the trail, and we came out near May's house. I could hear the sounds coming from down the trail, where they were working on the barn. It was mostly rebuilt, but Bran had decided to add in a few conveniences they hadn't had before. The outer shell of the barn was complete, and they were close to finishing the inside walls and stalls. I considered going over to say hi, but I decided to wait. I needed to talk to May instead, anyway.

I turned toward the house, which was only a few minutes from the barn, toward the front of the lot. The farmhouse was beautiful, two stories and freshly painted white with red trim. As I darted up the front porch steps, Fancypants flew off my shoulder and landed on the porch swing. I rang the bell and waited. I was good-enough friends with May to be able to go inside without knocking, but it always seemed awkward to me and I didn't feel comfortable barging in on anybody that way.

May opened the door, her hair pulled up in a chignon. She was wearing a linen pants suit, which surprised me. Usually, May wore jeans and a floral top, or a gauzy skirt and tank top. She always wore an apron over the top of both, except when she was out in public. Today, the apron had gone missing.

"Elphyra! I'm so glad you're here. I was going to come over and visit you after I changed clothes. Come in," she said, standing back to open the door.

I gave her a hug. "May, how are you? You look like you've been out and about."

"I had to go talk to our lawyers for a while, as well as the insurance company. It never hurts to dress up so that they don't treat you like a local yokel. Especially when you're a woman. Now, come in. Do you want some coffee?" She ushered me into the house, pointing toward the kitchen. "There's a fresh pie on the counter. You know how to work the espresso machine. Or if you want plain coffee, we have that as well. Fix yourself something and I'll be back in a moment."

As she headed off toward her bedroom, I peeled off into the kitchen. Fancypants had decided to stay outside for the moment, so it was just me. I fixed myself a triple-shot latte, and got a generous slice of pie. I foraged through the refrigerator and added a couple slices of cheese. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet and I was hungry.

I sat down at the country kitchen table, watching as thin rays of sunlight pierced through the stained-glass sun catcher, fracturing into prisms that bounced around the room. The farmhouse was so comfortable that it made me want to move in and never leave. But I needed my own home. Bran could make up his mind. If we got married, I'd prefer to live in the same house, but if he needed to live here with his mother that would be fine. We could work around it however we wanted to.

When May returned, she was dressed in her usual jeans and a comfortable-looking cashmere sweater. She tied an apron around her waist, then poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with me.

"How's the pie?" she asked.

I took a bite. Cinnamon mixed with brown sugar mixed with apple filled my mouth. I closed my eyes and sighed, appreciating every bite. "This is so good. You make the best pies. Someday, will you teach me your secrets?"

"Of course. It's all in the crust, and in knowing the proportions to mix together. So, I see the ring on your finger. I'm so excited for you and Bran. I'm thrilled to have you for my daughter-in-law. But I ask you one thing: don't hurt him. I understand the predicament you're in with Faron and Bran—he told me about it. I don't claim to be entirely comfortable with the situation, but it's between the three of you. I only pray that Bran doesn't end up with a broken heart."

I stared at my latte, then took another bite of apple pie. "I promise I won't hurt him. I do love him, May. I didn't think I'd fall in love with him, but it came fast and hard. And I can't imagine not having him in my life."

"And Faron?"

"I love Faron. At least…" I paused, debating whether to voice what was creeping around deep inside.

"You can talk to me," May said.

"Okay…I love Faron. At least, I think I do. My heart hurts to think of being without him. But I'm wondering…is that love enhanced by the guilt I feel over his injuries? He was hurt helping my friend. He was hurt right after—almost directly after—we became intimate. Do I love him because it's been so long with no resolution? I don't even know if I'm making any sense." I hung my head, frustrated. The sneaking thought that my love for Faron might be an illusion brought about by guilt and the constant waiting had started to take hold after seeing him the other day, but I didn't want to face those thoughts.

"I promise you, I won't throw Bran over regardless of what happens. If Faron were to express his undying love for me, but at the expense of Bran, I'd walk away. If he can't accept Bran in my life, I'll walk away. Bran's been here for me since I moved in. Maybe not romantically, but that grew out of our friendship. I love him. Please never doubt that."

"So, you're questioning your feelings toward Faron?"

I nodded. "I feel horrible, but yes. I don't know, May. I just don't know."

"Well, you'll figure it out. And whatever the outcome, thank you for hearing me out."

"Of course. You're his mother, I expect you to stand up for him." I took another bite of the pie. "So, you're willing to come with me for Thanksgiving? Even with my crazy mother?"

"I'll be there. Especially now that our families are going to be related." Leaning across the table, she placed her hand on mine. "Don't be too hard on your mother. She's been through a lot, from what Bran says."

"You know that my aunt Ciara sent me my father's diary?"

May tilted her head, giving me a puzzled look. "No, I didn't know that." She paused, then asked, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I thought Bran might have told you about it. It's the journal my father kept for a few months before he was found dead. There are some questionable things in it that make me wonder if he committed suicide, or if he was murdered. My mother hasn't seen it, and I'm not telling her about it. But when we go up there for Thanksgiving, I intend to ransack the house for a letter he supposedly left. My mother didn't find it, I'm sure. All I know is that the Witches' Guild of Port Townsend may have had something to do with his death."

"Oh dear," May said, knitting her brows. "I don't recommend drawing their attention. You don't think that they killed him, do you?"

"I don't know. All I know is that he mentioned the Witches' Guild, and being watched. He said something about a secret room, and how much he regretted his greed, and how hard it was to turn away from…some sort of temptation. I'm not certain what happened. I can't ask my mother—and honestly, I don't think that she knows anything about it. But my father was enchanting protection magic into my clothing when I was five."

"It's difficult when someone's death has a cloud hanging over it. I take it Bran is going to help you search for the letter?" she asked, finishing her coffee and getting up to pour another cup.

I nodded. "Yes, he said he would. I was wondering if you might help? We have to keep this a secret from my mother somehow. I doubt if my aunt would tell her anything, but I don't want to drag her into anything traumatic. Not after Owen's death."

May cut herself a piece of pie to go with her coffee. "You don't think there's any correlation between Owen's suicide and your father?"

I shook my head.

"I know it seems unlikely, that both of them supposedly killed themselves. But Owen had reason. He was depressed, and he had overdosed twice before. My aunt found him in time, both prior attempts. This time, she didn't."

"Did they conduct an autopsy?"

"Yeah," I said, sighing. "The level of drugs in his system was so high that he couldn't have been in his right mind."

My throat tightened and I wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall.

"Are you all right?" May asked.

With a shrug, I said, "Even though I hadn't talked to Owen in a while, we were best friends during childhood. I loved him. In my heart, I feel like I let him down. I wasn't there to offer him the support he so obviously needed."

"I understand, but you were healing from your own trauma. Did your great-grandmother point out that if someone is determined to take their own life, they'll find a way? Even if you were there, you may not have been able to change anything."

Worrying my lip, I sighed. "I know. And he was so out of it, anything I said would probably have bounced off. I just wish I could have tried. That I knew what was going on before it was too late. But there's nothing I can do now."

I finished my pie. "Did Bran show you the ring before he proposed to me?"

She grinned then, her eyes sparkling. "Well…let me see it."

I held out my hand. "I just love it, it's so beautiful." After a moment a thought crossed my mind. "This isn't some family heirloom, is it? Because if it is, I want to make certain to take excellent care of it. Not like I wouldn't take care of it anyway, but it's better to know these things from the start."

May laughed. "No. To be honest, I was with him when he bought it. I steered him to this style. Bran's a wonderful man, but he doesn't have the best of taste when it comes to jewelry. So, I hope you don't mind that I took the initiative."

"I thought that might be the case," I said, relieved I could still laugh. "I've never met any man who has my taste when it comes to jewelry. Thank you. I do love it. It's incredibly beautiful, and I will take care of it and try not to be a klutz and lose it or damage it."

I finished my pie and coffee as we shifted our conversation to the barn. If May had any other questions, like where we'd be living, she kept them to herself.

"The new barn will be ready in a few days. I can't wait to bring our animals back home. Would you like to see the progress?"

"We won't be in the way?"

She shook her head and stood, linking her elbow through mine. As we walked out the back door, the smell of wood smoke hung heavy in the air. The wind was blowing it in a westerly direction, the gusts picking up the scattered handful of leaves remaining on the trees and sending them spinning around us in a frenzied autumn dance.

As we sauntered down to the barn, the chill woke me up and cleared my thoughts. Fancypants flew along beside us, now and then stopping to admire some of the vivid mums that were still blooming along the walkway.

"We're going to create a sidewalk from the house down to the barn. And we need to re-gravel the entire driveway. You can see where the fire trucks' wheels left deep trenches. We need to fill those in, and bring everything level again."

"Gloria did a number on Bran, didn't she? I can promise you that I will never be that crazy. Even if something did happen between Bran and me—something negative—I would never hurt him, and I wouldn't begrudge him moving on. I want to set your mind at ease. I will never play the crazy ex-girlfriend. And I will never destroy your farm."

May let out a chuckle. "That's good to know. One crazy ex-girlfriend was enough."

"Is there anything I should know? Any other exes I should know about? Or anything you can tell me that will help our relationship?" Once I had said yes to Bran, regardless of what happened with Faron, I was all-in, determined to make the relationship work as well as I could.

"No other exes, although he never wanted for girlfriends. But Bran wasn't the type to get into casual relationships. I believe he's had four serious girlfriends. The first one landed a job as a model. She left for Europe, and long distance didn't work for them. The second—Cindy—wanted to get married right away and have a passel of kids, and he broke it off because he wasn't sure he wanted children. You should know that in advance."

"I'm not sure I want children either, so we have that in common. But yes, we'll talk about it. What about his third girlfriend?"

"She was a sweetheart. They grew apart, though, and she didn't want to settle down here. She craved life in the big city, and that was the last thing Bran wanted. She moved to New York City and became an investment banker. They still exchange Yule letters. She has a husband and two kids, and a nanny and a Park Avenue penthouse. And of course, the fourth—Gloria—well, you met her."

I shuddered. "Yes, and hopefully we'll never see her again. You know that I was engaged to Rian, and you know what happened to him. Other than that, I dated for a while, but never seriously. Rian was my first great love. I miss him, I agonize over what happened, but the more I've come to know myself, the more I realize that he wasn't a good match for me. I need someone who can match my stubbornness and call me on my bullshit. And Rian never did that. But Bran does. And he doesn't do it in a negative or critical manner."

We were at the barn by then, and May took me inside to show me around. Bran was working on putting up drywall, and some of the other men were working on the floors and one was finishing up the new staircase up into the loft. Bran came over to kiss me.

"This is beautiful," I said looking around. It didn't look like the interior of a barn at all. Oh, the stalls were there, and the feeding troughs. But there was a staircase instead of a ladder, and the interior was being painted a creamy eggshell color.

"I'm glad you put in a staircase. I don't like climbing ladders."

"I can understand that," May said. "I specifically asked them to install a staircase in place of a ladder because I'm getting up there. I'm still active, but I'm starting to think about age-friendly amenities."

Bran showed me the rest of what they had done in the barn while May talked to the workers. The afternoon passed quickly, and Fancypants and I made our goodbyes. I kissed Bran and then, with the dragonette on my shoulder, headed down the path that joined our properties.

As the breeze grew stronger, biting through my jacket, I thought about how comfortable I was around May and Bran, and it occurred to me that I was as fond of May as I was Grams. They were all part of my family now, she would be my mother-in-law, and Bran and I were going to make it official.

It started to rain as we came out of the woods and headed across the yard toward my house. Fancypants took to the air, winging toward the house faster than I could run. As I joined him on the porch, I leaned my head against the door for a moment, processing the afternoon. My life was taking so many new twists and turns it felt hard to follow. But this time, I wasn't afraid. I opened the door, and ducked inside.