Page 30 of A Spell for Midwinter’s Heart

Ana helped Rowan try on borrowed boots and skis as Gavin and Dennis readied themselves across the snowfield in front of the lodge. While the old woman fussed, Rowan said, “I visited your elf houses.”

“Did you now?” asked Ana. A smile fluttered on her face as she stabbed a set of ill-fitting skis back into the snowbank and grabbed another.

“I left them a treat.”

“I hope it wasn’t licorice. As soon as our family moved to America, the little folk refused to eat any more of it—chuck it right into the snow.”

Rowan laughed. “Exactly where it belongs.” She hesitated a moment before continuing, “I think they helped me find an answer to a problem I’ve been having.”

She tensed, wondering if Ana would laugh at that. But Gavin’s grandmother only nodded as if it made perfect sense. She laid a new pair of skis at Rowan’s feet, sweeping excess snow from the bindings.

“Be a good neighbor,” said Ana, “and your neighbors will be there when you need them.”

Kicking her boots free of snow, Rowan stepped into the skis with a satisfying click. Across the snowfield, Dennis said something that made Gavin’s face crack in a soft laugh. Rowan studied them, wrestling with feelings of irritation that Dennis had hijacked their day—and that Gavin had let him.

“Let’s see you turn in a circle,” said Ana. “Try to keep them parallel. That will show us what your body remembers.”

Rowan did as she was ordered, trying to move in a circle without crossing the skis and making a complete fool of herself. Snow sprayed with her steps in a series of delightful thumps.

“You know,” said Ana, watching her with a small smile, “this is the first time he’s brought someone to Aelfhome.”

“Really?” Rowan glanced her way, momentarily distracted from the task at hand and briefly crossing her skis with a click of hard plastic.

The old woman smiled and nodded. “I think it’s a sort of sanctuary for him.

A place where he was free of his father’s needs, and the many things others were constantly asking of him.

The friends he had as a boy…” She shook her head with a scornful frown.

“They always wanted something, and unfortunately, he has an impossible time saying no. Easier to just hide out. That fiancée he had…”

Rowan’s eyes widened. Fiancée? He’d had a fiancée?

“She was the same way. Peter and I were grateful when it didn’t work out.”

“Not his dad?”

Ana chuckled ruefully. “No, he saw none of the problems in that relationship. But how could he when they mirrored his own?”

The insight into Gavin brought on a nervous blip in her chest. There wasn’t any chance she’d taken advantage of that instinct, had she? To be next in the line of people who exploited his giving nature was something she’d never allow herself.

“Was it that way with Dennis and Sarah?”

The old woman’s face crumpled. “No. Sarah would never have allowed that. He was a different man when she was here. Losing her…it affected him deeply.” She frowned.

“But that’s no excuse for making his son pick up his slack.

Anyway…” Ana put a hand on Rowan’s shoulder and inspected the circle in the snow with a satisfied nod. “The body doesn’t forget.”

Gavin skied up to the side of the house with an effortless grace, sliding to a tidy stop. “Well? How’s it going over here?” Moments later, Dennis came to a stop beside him.

“She moved the skis like they were a part of her,” said Ana. “She’ll be okay.”

“?‘Okay’ implies many outcomes,” said Rowan. “One of which is ‘not dead but definitely not upright.’?”

“The snowcat is still an option,” offered Dennis. Her eyes narrowed his way.

You would like that, wouldn’t you?

Rowan held her tongue, saying, “I’ll take my chances with ‘okay.’?”

“Well then,” said Dennis with a too-bright smile, “let’s go.”

A wind picked up as they followed the paths down the mountain from Aelfhome, which were deeply cut and well-trodden.

Many of the people who came to stay skied down from the lodge, following the sequence of switchbacks through the forest. Watching the increasing sway of branches overhead with a wary eye, Rowan opened her awareness to the weather, letting its wild, kinetic energy flow through her.

Though it had been a long time since she’d sensed it, she knew what it meant—a storm was coming.

She wanted to get off the slopes—away from Dennis, away from the winds—as quickly as possible.

But muscles she’d forgotten she even had were groaning in protest before they’d even hit the halfway mark.

Every year they’d had a skiing unit in PE, heading out to the snowy hills by the high school, but she’d never been one to do it for fun.

“Don’t lift so much in your stride,” offered Gavin. “Push and glide, push and glide.” He demonstrated the proper way to move the skis.

Trying his suggestions did nothing but bring her to a halt. “I think I might have to do it my own terrible way.”

“Not terrible,” he said with an encouraging smile. “Just…not very efficient, energy-wise.”

“It’s what I’ve got,” said Rowan, trying to hide that her breathing was getting labored.

They skied on in silence for a few minutes, and she did her best to ignore her growing exhaustion and the mounting energy of the storm.

The day darkened around them. It was only midafternoon, but at this latitude, so close to the shortest day of the year, that was early enough for the sun to dip behind the mountains and shadows to encroach.

“So you had a fiancée?” she blurted.

Gavin’s head swiveled toward her. “Where did you hear about that?”

“Your grandmother mentioned it.”

His head turned back away, and he was quiet for a moment. Finally, he said, “I did.”

“What happened?”

“It just didn’t work out.”

In that moment, the trail diverged into two paths, and Dennis veered to the right. With a frown, Gavin called out, “Isn’t that way longer?”

“Road less traveled!” called Dennis.

Longer? Rowan didn’t want to be here longer. She didn’t want to be here at all. She was tired, a storm was coming, and her emotions were all over the place, had been since her breakdown in the sauna and only aggravated by Dennis’s interference.

“I thought we were in a hurry to prep for Christmas Eve,” said Gavin.

“Not that much of a hurry,” returned Dennis.

Gavin ran a gloved hand over his mouth but said nothing more. She struggled to speed up and try to get closer.

“Gavin,” she said. He glanced back. “There’s a storm coming. We really need to get back to the car.”

“How do you…?” He peered through the canopy, catching sight of the dark clouds. “Right. Dad, the weather’s turning.”

Dennis scoffed. “I know this mountain. We’ve got time.”

Gavin fell back into pace with Rowan. “It’s not all that much longer this way,” he offered, by way of apology. He glanced her up and down and must have noticed that she was looking worn down because he said, “Did you want to try again to adjust your stride?”

“No,” she snapped, irritation speaking first.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and his tone forced her to realize how self-defeating she was being.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s give this a try.”

“Your arms are good. Your trouble’s still mainly in the legs.” He leaned over to run his hand from her hip to her knee. “The momentum should come from the thrust of your hip and knee.”

“You’re telling me to focus on…thrusting my hips?” Her voice took a sly downturn. Gavin’s cheeks flushed pink, but he hummed in agreement.

Despite the distracting nature of the lesson, Rowan tried again with his suggestions. After a few awkward missteps, she moved along more easily.

“Uh, I think I actually got it?”

“I knew you would.”

They shared a smile and for a second, Rowan thought he might lean in to brush his lips against hers, but he shifted his gaze to his father as they returned to navigating the forest.

“Push and glide, push and glide,” Rowan whispered to herself, trying to internalize the lesson. “Push and glide, push and glide.”

The wind howled hard enough to crack a branch somewhere in their periphery. Rowan couldn’t help it—she yelped.

It was finally bothering Dennis as well. Gavin’s father looked back at her, voice tense. “Can you pick it up at all?”

Her simmering irritation flared into a high boil. Was he trying to say this was her fault? The wind battered her from the side, threatening to knock her off balance.

“I’m doing what I can,” she said, her voice tight.

Gavin glanced at her with concern and shook his head in his father’s direction. “If we push ourselves too hard and get stuck, we’ll be in a far worse position than if we go slow but steady.”

Dennis shook his head but said nothing more.

Rowan shot Gavin a grateful look, and he nodded, returning to scanning their surroundings with wary eyes.

The trees shook and bent with the rhythm of the gales, which sent enough snow cascading from their branches to create the illusion of a fresh snowfall.

Despite the heat of overexertion, the wind froze the skin of her face in a numbing chill.

They only passed a few minutes more before there was another cracking branch—close enough this time to see it crash to the earth a few feet off the path.

“I’m going to move up and talk to my dad again,” said Gavin. “You going to be okay?”

She nodded and gestured him on, watching as he effortlessly sped up to catch the older man.

I can do something about this.

She recoiled at the notion, scoffing. Being able to convince the wind to blow snow off a roof was entirely different from bringing a storm to heel. The wind liked to blow. Telling it not to blow would be met with considerably less good humor.

But what if she could convince it to divert from their path? It wouldn’t have to stop—just go around.

Shit, it was worth a try.

After only a few moments more of hesitation, Rowan did her best to relax and open herself up, but the energy of the storm zapped her like a live wire. The mountain kicked and screamed.

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself and plunged back in, gritting her teeth.

When she pulled in the storm’s energy, it lit her every nerve on fire, but she pushed on, building power, trying to catch the attention of the wind.

It was usually so pliant, but it lashed out as she approached.

It wanted nothing but to howl mindlessly.

She pushed against it, asserting her will as she formed a protective circle, visualized their pathway growing still and safe, and then began to chant in a low voice,

Clear us a path, let us go,

Unharmed, unharried through the snow.

By the power of three by three,

As I do will it, so mote it be.

The wind screamed in resistance. She asserted herself again.

Sweat, long since gathered from the effort of skiing, dripped down her face.

There was a genuine risk that when this was over, she would be left completely worn out, and if it didn’t work, she was screwed.

Still, she drew in power, and then tried again, repeating the words and visualizing the outcome they needed.

Please.

In a blink, the resistance gave and the wind stilled. The sudden dropout was eerie, especially because it was still audibly howling in the not-too-distant surroundings. But their path was quiet, still. The party stopped, gazing around with wide eyes.

Holy shit—I did it.

She had calmed a storm. Ahead, Dennis murmured, “Fifty-seven years on this mountain, and I’ve seen nothing like this.”

“I think I read about this somewhere,” said Rowan in a quick lie. “Maybe they call it a wind tunnel?”

Gavin studied her close. “Isn’t a ‘wind tunnel’ the opposite?”

“Okay, not that, then,” said Rowan, averting her gaze, as if he might see what she’d done reflected in her eyes.

“Well,” said Dennis, “we should get going before it changes its mind. We’re almost there. Let’s go.” He kicked off.

“One more push,” said Gavin in an encouraging tone.

She should have been exhausted, but she was wired. High on the elation that she had called out to the wind, and that it had listened.

Their ride down the mountain was quiet. Rowan went over the moment with the wind again and again.

Her instinct to find fault in what she’d done was finally quiet.

She only reveled in the feeling that there had been a need, and she had risen to meet it.

Whatever was going on in Gavin’s mind, behind the shutters of his eyes, she left him to it.

“I’ll call you” was all he said as he dropped her at the doorstep and gave her a brief kiss.

Then he was gone, speeding off to his obligations to his father.