Page 114

Annie held a crystal perfume bottle to her freckled nose, and I wrapped my arms around her tightly, burying my face in her hair.

This changes everything.

And it had.

“You ready, Annie Bird?” I said.

She slid off my lap and skipped from the room in a wordless answer.

I tucked a stray, waving strand behind my ear and rose to my feet. The white lace dress draped over my curves, its delicate hem brushingthe floor. I looked at myself in the mirror before Margaret handed me a bouquet of black-eyed Susans, aster, and bee balm she’d picked with Annie.

When we came down the back steps, the tobacco fields were bursting with green. It would be a good harvest. A healthy one.

Eamon and Esther were waiting beside the patch of wildflowers that lined the fence. In the distance, the mountains were a sea of rolling blue beneath a cloudless sky.

Esther gave me a kiss, taking Margaret’s hand, and beside them, Annie watched with a dandelion twirling between her palms. We stood there, four generations of Farrow women, cursed to live between worlds. But in that moment, in the valley of the Blue Ridge Mountains, we existed only in one.

When his gaze met mine, Eamon’s mouth tilted in a grin that I now recognized as distinctly his. I loved it. I loved him. More than I ever thought was possible for one being to hold inside of them.

Eamon had asked me to marry him again, and I’d said yes, because even though I could remember that day as clearly as if this body had been there, I would marry him a thousand times.

When I reached him, he took my hand, holding it to his chest. I could feel his heartbeat there.

This is real,I told myself.

And then I spoke my vows into the summer wind. That I’d love him forever. That I would always, always come back. That no matter what, I would find him.