Page 42 of A Spell for Midwinter’s Heart
Her father’s truck lumbered over a long gravel drive. The heater labored to keep the cab above freezing, and the radio was fuzzy with static. As the McCreery house came into sight on a distant hill, Rowan was struck with the dizzying memory of the last time she’d looked at it from this perspective.
She’d never felt more alone, or confused, than in the moment she had stepped back into consciousness on this very hillside.
The truck rolled to a stop out beside a collection of much nicer cars. It seemed like too many for one man and his visiting son, but then, she didn’t know what Dennis McCreery spent his money on—maybe it was cars? That he left outside in the middle of winter?
Gavin met her at the door. He was wearing a black suit tailored to show off the breadth of his shoulders and the trim torso below them. His eyes swept her from head to toe as he stepped out to meet her on the doorstep, a reverent look in his eyes.
“You look incredible,” he said in a low voice.
His fingertips skimmed the exposed flesh of her shoulders before tripping down her back to loop around and pull her against the rigid line of his body.
He kissed her once, twice, a third time, the attentions of his tongue leaving her breathless with anticipation of what they might sneak off and do once they’d finished their business.
He took her by the hand and led her into the house.
Golden tinsel wove through the handrail of a wide staircase.
Glossy silver, pale blue, and white balls dangled from beams overhead.
Their Christmas tree was straight out of a catalog, stretching at least fifteen feet toward the vaulted ceilings of the living room and decorated with icy perfection.
She stared at it a moment longer, and déjà vu struck again. It left her head swimming, and she held Gavin’s hand a little tighter to steady herself. She had never been inside this house, had she? Something slithered up her spine, the uneasy sensation that something wasn’t right.
Gavin’s forehead creased with tension. “Everyone’s out back.”
Her heart dropped. “I thought I was getting here early so we could pitch to him.”
He wound up his words slowly, gently, clearly expecting that what he was going to say would upset her. “There were other…early visitors. It’s not a problem. We’ll catch a lull and pull him aside. Look, there’s more, though. I didn’t realize they were coming…I didn’t realize she was coming.”
The sensation spread from her spine to her neck, constricting. “Who?”
“The Goshen Group representatives.”
“Excuse me? They’re here?”
The room spun, seeming to grow smaller. She did everything she could to steady her breath in a regular rhythm. The uneasy feeling doubled, tripled in size and intensity.
“Yes,” he said. “And Hayleigh’s with them. Honestly, I’m surprised she even wanted to come after what happened.”
Hayleigh. He said the name like she should know it and what he meant by “what happened.”
What exactly was she missing? Her cheeks burned. The room spun again.
“Let’s go to your room,” she blurted.
“Excuse me?” he asked with a laugh.
“I mean, show me your room, before we go join the party. I’d love to see what kind of embarrassing kid stuff you held on to.” The words stumbled across her tongue with forced lightness.
He accepted the explanation. “I’ll give you one in advance, by way of warning—I had an Animorphs phase.” Before they could finish ascending the stairs, Dennis McCreery walked in from the back, his guests at his heels.
“Ah, Rowan, so good of you to join us,” said Dennis. He waved a champagne flute their way. “You two aren’t sneaking off already, are you?”
“ Excuse me?” A blond woman in a black cocktail dress emerged, arms crossed.
It only took a moment to realize that she was the same woman who had attended the Hunt in the vermillion dress, and from the look of dawning recognition, it was clear the other woman recognized Rowan as well.
“You broke up with me for her. For Hotel Girl?”
Hotel Girl? What?
Everyone was stunned. Hotel girl? mouthed Dennis to the man at his side.
“Hayleigh, this isn’t funny anymore,” said Gavin. “This is Rowan. Not ‘Ronan,’ not ‘Hotel Girl.’ The two of you have met multiple times at this point.”
“What?” said Hayleigh. She looked as baffled as Rowan felt. The blond woman continued, “I met her once. At my hotel. After I blacked out. Unless…” She looked at Rowan more closely. “You were dressed as the old witch last night, weren’t you? The one who—” She cut herself off, face sharpening.
“Wait, what was that about you blacking out?” repeated Gavin. He looked first at Hayleigh and then back at Rowan.
For her part, Rowan stood frozen in place, unable to focus on anything but trying to control the brewing storm of panic in her nervous system.
Panic that she didn’t recognize “Hayleigh” as anything other than the woman at the festival.
Panic that everyone in the room thought they should know each other.
Panic that Hayleigh, who apparently worked for the Goshen Group, had overheard their pitch at the festival.
The scene tasted of magic. Rowan’s magic.
What had she done?
“Hayleigh, dear, this is Rowan Midwinter ,” said Dennis. “She and Gavin are old friends.”
Hayleigh glared at Gavin. “You dumped me for a satanist?”
Gavin pressed his brow with a sigh. “I couldn’t have dumped you because we never dated. And she’s not a satanist.”
“Oh?” said Hayleigh. “I saw what was happening at that party last night. They burned an idol! There were people dressed like demons running wild in the streets!”
“This is getting very confusing,” muttered one of the other reps.
“Perhaps you’d better see a doctor, dear,” said Dennis, putting a hand on Hayleigh’s shoulder. “You seem confused.”
Hayleigh shrugged off his hand and spun, pointing a finger in his face. “You’re right—I am. I’m confused that your son is running around with one of them. Did you bring us all the way here to tell us the deal’s off?”
“Of course not,” blustered Dennis. “Especially with that new pitch you brought me. I can’t see how this partnership is anything but a win for Elk Ridge.”
“Wait, what new pitch?” said Gavin.
Hayleigh crossed her arms and smiled, sharklike in the glittering lights of the Christmas tree.
“I was telling your father about my newest proposal—Elk Ridge Every Season. We aren’t going to build all this just to do business six weeks a year.
How silly would that be? We’ll have people here coming to celebrate Easter, the Fourth of July, Harvest Fest—all your good old-fashioned, family favorites, right here in Elk Ridge. ”
The pit in Rowan’s stomach bottomed out. That was their pitch but twisted.
She had let this woman, who apparently worked for Goshen Group, and whom she should have recognized, steal their idea. How had she let this happen?
A Spell to Forget. The only possible explanation.
She’d done it again.
She’d messed it all up.
Dennis smiled at the Goshen Group representatives in a conciliatory way. “This is what we needed—the missing piece. As far as I’m concerned, the meeting’s a formality. It’s only a matter of signing the papers.”
The spinning of the room intensified, and Rowan’s vision grew spotty. She wobbled, grasping for Gavin, but he had taken a few steps closer to his father, and she clutched the banister instead.
“Dad,” said Gavin, “we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing more to discuss, son,” said Dennis, in a practiced tone that he had clearly employed to shut down hundreds of arguments.
Gavin pushed on. “Yes, there is. We have an alternate proposal. Though it’s actually very similar to that one.” His eyes narrowed at Hayleigh. “…somehow. But with some key differences. And it’ll keep everything local.”
Dennis shook his head. “We’ve been over this—there aren’t the resources locally.”
Gavin waved toward the Goshen Group reps. “And if we sell to them, there never will be. Everything Elk Ridge has left will end up in bank accounts somewhere else.”
“They’re bringing in jobs this town desperately needs.”
Gavin locked eyes with his father. “They are going to replace jobs. They are going to push people out of small businesses where people know each other, care about each other, into minimum-wage positions where they’re numbers on an Excel sheet.”
Dennis shook his head. “I can tell you’ve given this idea of yours a lot of thought, and I appreciate your passion. But this is the right call. It’ll be a painful transition, but it’ll let the town survive. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best deal we’ve got.”
He turned away, signaling that the conversation was over. Frustration and disappointment dueled on Gavin’s features, but he said nothing else.
Rowan stared at him, eyes wide. That was it? He was dropping it there?
While it had been clear that he had difficulties saying no to his father, she had always assumed, hoped, that when it came down to it, when it was really important, he’d come through.
But he wasn’t. He could plot, and bargain, and reason, but when it came time to draw a line, he couldn’t do it.
He won’t stand up to him. Not even for this. Not even for us.
Rowan spat, “That’s bullshit.”
Dennis turned back, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“This is all about Elk Ridge, huh? It’s got nothing to do with the millions of dollars you’ll walk away with.”
His face reddened. “Money I’ll reinvest in the community.”
Rowan laughed. “Elk Ridge will get a gymnasium, and you’ll get, what, a third home in the Alps? Where you can hide out and ignore the consequences—”
“Now listen to me, young lady,” said Dennis, cutting her off.
“No, you listen! ” The words exploded from her mouth, and magic came with them. Everyone in the room stared straight at her, rapt and utterly silent. Even Gavin’s eyes locked onto her face with an unnatural intensity.
A Spell to Draw Attention had become instinct.
She took a deep breath, eyes scanning the room. They could not speak, could not move, until she had said her piece. They were aware of the hold she had on them. Hayleigh’s eyes darted from side to side, as if looking for a way out.
Gavin knew too. This would not be like the Ferris wheel, nor the sign, nor any of the other times they’d sidestepped the truth of who she was and what she was capable of.
She needed to be sure it was worth the price.
Descending the stairs, she said, “Our proposal is good, Mr. McCreery. So good that she…” Her eyes flicked to Hayleigh.
“Stole it. There’s more where that came from.
If you’d only take a few minutes to hear us out, you’d realize that.
” She paused in front of the old man, looking him in the eyes.
“But you aren’t listening—because you don’t want to listen.
Not even to your own son, who cares more about you than—”
Her voice hitched with a sharp upswell of emotion. She met Gavin’s eyes briefly before looking back at Dennis. “Anyone. You’re only thinking about you right now. And how all that money is going to feel. At least, that’s what I think.”
Rowan made for the door, pausing before leaving. “If you really care about this town, if you are actually trying to do what’s best for Elk Ridge, go on—prove me wrong. Listen, really listen, and then make a choice.”
She opened the door and stepped into the night, releasing the spell once she was out. As the door shut, she was already sprinting toward her father’s truck, stumbling over the snowy, uneven terrain in her borrowed, impractical shoes.
As magic and adrenaline abandoned her, she was left shaking, nauseated, forced to face what she’d pushed back to do what needed to be done.
Forgotten women. Unremembered living rooms. And worst of all was the powerful echo of her own words.
He won’t stand up to him. Not even for this. Not even for us.
And there was that creeping sense of déjà vu again. This was not the first time she had realized this about Gavin; she was sure of it.
Awareness returned to her body. She had overshot her father’s truck and stood in the field in front of the house. Déjà vu deepened as she remembered an altar in the snow below. An altar covered in spell components, and a grimoire opened to a forbidden page.
What was on that page?
The thing in her chest wrapped and wound, tightening. She was going to stop breathing any moment—she was sure of it. She’d forgotten how to breathe. She doubled over, nearly collapsing into the snow as she struggled to keep her chest going in a steady rhythm of rise and fall.
She needed to know. She couldn’t let the void inside overtake her anymore.
Then arms were there—looping around her, pulling her in close. “Rowan.” Gavin’s voice was soft in her ear. “Rowan, are you okay?”
She shook her head, gasping with the effort to take a full breath. “I—I can’t breathe.”
He placed his palm to her stomach and said, “Focus on pressing against this every time you breathe in. One after another. One after another.” He held her close and led her from the field toward the truck, repeating gently and firmly with every step.
“One after another. One after another. Until it passes.”