Page 16 of A Spell for Midwinter’s Heart
“Well, now, that is delicious,” said Dennis, talking loudly enough that Rowan could no longer eavesdrop on the others. “Apparently, you’re as good a cook as your mother.”
“False,” said Rowan, shaking her head. “It’s pretty much these cookies and fried eggs from me.”
“Funny how so many women today take pride in not being able to cook,” said Hayleigh. She fixed her eyes on Gavin. “That is not a problem I have.”
There was a pause in the conversation, as if the group expected Gavin to reply, but he only nodded in polite acknowledgment.
“I’m sure you’re a marvelous cook, my dear,” said Dennis, filling the silence. “I’m with Rowan, though. Good thing Gavin’s home—I’m finally eating well again.” He clapped a hand on Gavin’s back. “I sure miss Friday pizza night when this guy’s gone.”
“You cook?” asked Rowan, raising an eyebrow Gavin’s way.
He half smiled and shrugged. “I can do more than fry an egg. I can’t make sugar cookies like this, though.”
“Boy’s selling himself short,” said Dennis. For all that she didn’t like many things about Dennis, the way he oozed pride around his son was something she could find no fault in. Gavin basked in it, like he always had. They were a devoted son and father, that much was clear.
“Of course,” continued Dennis, eyeing his son. “When he takes over, his work hours might make it harder to get dinner on the table, but I doubt he’ll have a hard time finding a lady eager to take over kitchen duties for him.”
Rowan’s goodwill wilted straight back into nothing. Gavin was quiet, but his head turned away from his father, and she thought she detected a brief eye roll.
Dennis turned her way. “I’ll take a cup of cider.”
“Wassail,” corrected Gavin.
“What’s the difference?” asked Hayleigh, who watched as Rowan poured a steaming stream into a cup.
The amber liquid overtook the crystalline snowflakes, coating the white paper interior and melting them instantly.
Hayleigh couldn’t suppress the look of appreciation that passed over her face as wafting steam delivered the spicy scents her way.
“Magic,” said Gavin, exchanging a conspiratorial smile with Rowan.
Hayleigh studied him, seeming to consider whether he was joking.
“Come here a minute, Gavin,” said Dennis, gesturing him over to where the group of men had clustered in front of the building. “Need your opinion on something.”
Hayleigh was the only one left behind, standing across from Rowan, hands clasped at her front. The Goshen Group rep shivered, adjusting a piece of long blond hair from her face with a creamy gloved hand, and Rowan’s earlier appreciation of the woman’s discomfort reluctantly fell away.
They had been left here together, while the men went the other way.
“You sure you don’t want a cup of this?” asked Rowan, tapping the cider. “It’ll warm you up.”
Hayleigh fluttered unnaturally long lashes, mouth forming an O of surprise. Finally, she nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
Rowan reached out to pass a cup to Hayleigh’s outstretched hand, but she misjudged the moment of contact. The cup slipped from between their fingers and tumbled toward the plate of sugar cookies on the table below.
She opened her mouth and gasped, “No!” A rush of energy coursed through her body.
The cup hit the table with a hard thunking noise, falling to its side to spin.
“What the…?” said Hayleigh, gazing at the stiff amber surface of the cider, which remained frozen in the cup instead of sloshing free as it should have.
Not again. Not in front of her.
Hayleigh’s eyes flicked up at Rowan, sharp. They both went for the cup at the same moment, the other woman snatching a second faster as Dennis led the group of men back toward the table.
Rowan’s pulse raced and skipped, and she did her best to ignore the churn of her stomach.
I need to melt it.
She grabbed for bright threads of magic and focused on the image of the cider returning to a steaming liquid, pulsing intention at the meter of her heart.
The men arrived. “I think we’ve got what we need here,” said the elder McCreery. “Let’s head back to the office and wrap up, so we can send you all on your way home tomorrow to enjoy your Christmas.”
“Hold on,” said Hayleigh. “You all need to see this. The cider, it—” She lifted the cup to show them, but the liquid inside spilled over the top with the upward thrust of her arm. It soaked through her gloves in a dark, spreading stain.
No one spoke for a few seconds, only stared. Rowan released a held breath, and Gavin glanced her way.
“It what, dear?” asked Dennis.
“It…” Her mouth flapped. “It spilled, but it didn’t!”
“Well, which was it?” asked Dennis. He glanced at Rowan, who only bit her lip and shook her head.
“I.” Hayleigh stared at Rowan. Finally, she said, “Nothing. It was nothing.” Then, keeping her eyes fixed on Rowan, Hayleigh walked over to Gavin, only finally breaking her gaze to look up at his face as she slipped an arm through his. “Ride back to the office with us, Gav?”
“My car’s here—” he began.
“You can get it later. After dinner.”
Gavin hesitated before saying, “I guess that’s true.” He looked Rowan’s way and flashed a crooked smile. “Rowan.”
As they walked away, Hayleigh shot Rowan one last look over her shoulder before leaning over to whisper something to Gavin. They both laughed as they traveled away together.
A wind gusted, tossing the hat right from Hayleigh’s head into the growing snow.
Rowan’s focus was torn away from the woman’s scramble to get it back when Dennis said, “Thank you for the delicious interlude. By the way, nudge your mother to return my call? The conversation isn’t going away just because she puts it off.”
Her stomach churned at the question.
“I can nudge,” she said, shifting from one foot to the other. “But I can’t promise anything’ll come of it.”
“Oh, trust me,” said Dennis with a hearty laugh. “I am aware no one makes Liliana Midwinter do anything except Liliana Midwinter. But mention it? She’ll be doing herself a favor getting it over with.”
Folding one hand over the other, he gazed down with a paternalistic smile.
“One way or another, things’re changing. She can choose to be a part of it or be left behind.”