Page 36 of Where the Roses Bloom (Gospels & Grimoires #1)

Rhett

It would only be a matter of minutes before I walked out onto the lawn between the house and the forest, and I made Willow Rhodes my wife.

I couldn’t believe how quickly we were doing this, afraid that she would have doubts or hesitations—but I also couldn’t believe how long we’d waited.

From the moment I’d found her sleeping at the end of the driveway, I had known she was it for me.

Those golden-brown eyes had looked out through the crack in the door and I knew .

And now we were here.

Preparing to start our life together…about to have a baby, though that was a secret only she and I shared. A quiet, flickering joy I kept folded up in my back pocket, along with the hastily written vows I’d slapped together and Hazel’s emerald ring.

I’d found the ring in Hazel’s jewelry box the night before, after everyone else had gone to bed. It was tucked in the back, in a velvet pouch worn thin at the edges, like it had been waiting for this moment. For her. I’d known the second I saw it that it was meant to be hers .

I buttoned my shirt with numb fingers, nervous even though I had no doubt this was forever.

Because on some level…I was still afraid that the curse held sway. We’d been so confident that we broke it, but that curse had hung onto this house, our family, the land, for more than three hundred years. Maybe Carter’s arrival was part of it.

Maybe his death was part of it too.

The house creaked around me, old bones shifting. The pipes moaned like they did when the weather turned. Ordinary sounds; familiar. But my skin prickled, hairs rising along my arms as if something was just behind me, watching.

We’d salted the windows. Burned rosemary at the doors. Laid out iron nails and drawn circles.

But curses didn’t always leave quietly.

Especially not when the dead still thought they had something to say.

I still wasn’t sure if what I’d seen in this very mirror had been Carter, but I didn’t want to leave it to chance.

So I cleared my throat.

And I spoke.

“You listenin’?”

There wasn’t any response, not that I’d expected one. The sound of voices filtered through the door from outside, people laughing, dishes clinking, doors opening and closing. Today was a far cry from when I’d been alone in the house while Willow tended to Jasmine.

That was probably a good sign, right? That he wouldn’t show his face when joy was in this house…and soon, joy would be the only thing.

“Well, if you are,” I continued, feeling like a damn fool, “I want you to know I’m going to treat her like the goddess she is.”

Silence.

“I don’t know if you came back ‘cause you want to hurt her…or if you thought you were the best thing that could’ve happened to her. I’m not here to argue with you. What I want is for you to know it’s time to move on to that great hereafter, because she ain’t yours anymore.”

There was just a flash of movement…but it made my heart pick up a beat. Just a flicker in the mirror, enough to get my palms sweaty.

“If there’s any fragment of you still clingin’ to this place,” I said, “you oughta use it to walk away. Be decent for once. Let her go.”

The bathroom was still—too still. I didn’t believe in ghosts the way Silas did, but I believed in grief…

and I believed in guilt. And maybe what Carter’s remnants were made of was rage, but I thought guilt was more likely, and grief over the fact that he’d had a whole future ahead of him that ended up wrapped around a tree in rural Georgia.

Nobody deserved that.

Not even the damned.

“I love her,” I said to the empty air. “Let her be happy.”

I stood there for another moment, listening…then the lights flickered, a breath ghosting through the room.

Then it was gone.

Out in the hall, the windows were open to let in the breeze, and a few kids from the high school were playing music outside—fiddle, guitar, and mandolin.

The smell of roses and wildflowers drifted through the air, and Beau’s laughter echoed from the kitchen, while Milo trotted toward me with a wreath of flowers around his neck.

I knelt to scratch behind Milo’s ears. “You look ridiculous, buddy.”

His eyes darted over my shoulder and he whined softly, looking toward the bathroom.

“Yeah…don’t worry,” I said. “I think he’ll be takin’ his leave soon. ”

When I stood, the warmth from the windows followed me, sunlight painting the worn wood floors gold. Holden passed by in a clean button-down someone had clearly forced him into, brows rising when he saw me.

“I was just lookin’ for you,” he said, then frowned at the look passed between me and Milo. “You good…?”

I nodded and laughed softly. “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’re lookin’ at the hallway like it just bit you.”

I huffed. “It tried.”

Holden snorted. “Well…I think we’re all set. The girls said they’re ready.”

My heart clenched. “She hasn’t run off?”

“Not yet,” Holden winked. “But there’s still time.”

“Ah…fuck off, kid.”

Holden grinned and clapped me on the shoulder before heading back down the hall, whistling like he didn’t just stir up every nerve I had left.

I let out a long breath and stepped into the living room.

Whit was fiddling with a tie he didn’t seem even remotely able to make work.

Beau passed him with a tray of cornbread muffins, tossing Whit a piece like it might calm him down, Milo catching it instead.

June was already at the back door, wearing lavender vestments, smiling at me.

I frowned. “Uh…think we’re missin’ a brother here.”

June nodded. “Silas thought it would be nice to walk her down the aisle; she looks beautiful in Amelia’s dress.”

I blinked.

Amelia’s dress?

The significance of it hit me all at once—the meaning.

I hadn’t even known Silas still had the dress, let alone that he’d offered it up to Willow.

He didn’t talk about Amelia much anymore, and when he did, it usually served to build up walls rather than bring them down.

The idea of him carrying that dress all these years…

I’d never been in love before, but I realized now how much that must hurt.

I reached out and braced a hand against the wall.

“He okay?” I asked, voice rough.

June tilted her head, considering. “He will be.”

That was all she needed to say; Silas wasn’t one to give much more than that.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “And it fits her right?”

“Sure does,” June said. “And I’ve officiated a lot of weddings, Rhett…but I’ve never seen a bride look quite the way Willow does right now.”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

June grinned. “You better get out there before she changes her mind.”

Milo bumped into my leg, tail thumping. Beau appeared right beside him, leaning down to scratch his ears. “You ready, best man?”

“Technically,” June said, “he’s the flower retriever.”

“Even better,” I laughed, trying to tamp down my nerves.

The screen door creaked open behind me, and sunlight poured across the floor like a river of gold. June stepped out first, soft and stately, catching the crowd’s attention. Milo trotted after her with his wreath and his usual optimism, earning a few aww s from the guests.

And I—heart hammering in my chest—followed them into the yard, onto a path lined with rose petals.

Waiting for her.