Page 36 of Wishing for a Werewolf (Ferndale Falls Forever #2)

Autumn

The hay maze runs all Saturday without a single hitch other than the fact I have to run to the soap barn between each group of people to cut up more PSL soap samples, since they’re the ones people are taking as prizes.

I’ll need to make a triple batch on Monday to make up for it, but I couldn’t be happier that so many people like my soap.

Jared even cycles over to snap a few photos and interview people about the maze for his local-news blog.

Mom and Dad drop by every so often to look things over, not saying much yet about the event but smiling and greeting everyone they know.

Babybelle loves the constant attention and puts on a little show for each new group.

And Rune… Rune’s one-hundred percent there for me, always by my side, always willing to lend a helping hand with anything that comes up.

His support feels amazing, from the way he helps with the goats to the way he dashed into the maze to find the mischievous toddler who’d run away from her parents to the time he leant his strong arm to a grandma who couldn’t walk very well so she could do the maze with her grandson.

I couldn’t ask for a more supportive partner, and every time he goes out of his way to help someone, it only makes me love him more.

Once the last wagon of people rolls away, Riselda and the werepuppies join us, and Hannah—in a total lifesaver move—drops off pizzas from Slice of Life.

I light a fire in the backyard fire pit, and we settle on the wooden outdoor furniture for an impromptu picnic.

The werepuppies are restless. They’re hungry, but they’re more interested in dessert than dinner, no matter how many times their mother tells them to finish their food.

“We never had this kind of trouble when we were wolves,” Rune grumbles. “If I caught squirrel, you ate squirrel and were happy for it.”

“But we want pie!” “And cookies!”

Hoo, boy. I bite back a laugh. That sure didn’t take long. They sound exactly like human kids raised around sweets.

“If you eat your pizza,” I say, “I’ll make s’mores for dessert.”

Rune shoots me a thankful look.

“What are s’mores?” Astrid’s ears perk up.

“Only the best campfire treats ever!”

“Me! Me! Me!” Babybelle bounces onto my lap, then down, then runs circles around the fire. “I want s’mores!”

“I’ll make you an extra special one.” I can smear a little marshmallow on a graham cracker for her, since goats can’t have chocolate.

Rune takes a big bite of pizza and makes happy food noises, humming with delight and smacking his lips. Then he grabs a piece of pizza off Astrid’s plate. “If you’re not going to eat it…”

“No!” She snatches it from his hand. “I want it.”

Next, he reaches for Agnar’s, but the little boy jerks it away before he can touch it.

Rune smiles over at me, and I grin back, happy that he remembered to use the reverse-psychology trick.

Then he pulls them onto his lap and sits with one perched on each of his legs, leaning back against his wide chest as they eat their pizza.

The firelight bathes his handsome face and glints on the dark fur of the pups heads, turning the three of them into a cozy painting limned in orange.

He’s so at ease with them, so present, that seeing the three of them all cuddled up almost makes my ovaries explode.

Children of my own have always felt like a distant dream, but Rune makes it feel amazingly possible.

And he’ll be the best father any child could hope for.

I fetch the s’mores fixings and a couple of skewers and head back to the fire, where I toast marshmallows and sandwich them between slabs of chocolate and graham crackers.

The twins devour the treats, giggling with delight, and Rune pulls them close. “Are s’mores worth eating your supper for?”

“So worth it!” they chorus.

His face breaks into a radiant smile, so full of love my heart explodes.

Sunday dawns a little cloudy, but the sun soon comes out. Rune gets to the farm in the nick of time, because a group of people show up a good half hour before the first hayride is set to arrive.

Shadow fae wing in from the air, gnomes spiral out of the ground, and wood nymphs appear from the trees, literally.

They all converge at the front of the maze.

Then Severin and Hannah appear overhead, him carrying her in his arms, his shadows coiled around her.

They make an especially festive display because an entire flock of pixies hangs all over the pair of them.

Several grip Severin’s inky hair until it floats around his head like a miniature night sky spangled with blue stars.

“What is this?” I ask.

“The fae want to try some of the human fall traditions, and I didn’t think you’d mind,” Hannah says.

“Of course I don’t mind!”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, Blue spirals up into the air and whistles something high and fast. The pixies give answering cries of joy and go streaking into the maze so quickly they leave little glowing lines across my vision for a few seconds until I blink them away.

The wood nymphs go next, tall, graceful bodies swaying slightly as they walk, like a tree in a gentle breeze.

Elowen goes last, waiting for Ruby to join her. Instead of doing any kind of gymnastics, the gnome holds her girlfriend’s hand and walks beside her.

“Now that’s true love,” Hannah whispers to me, smiling fondly after the pair.

The rest of the gnomes make up for it, tumbling and front-flipping into the maze with a bunch of excited yells.

The shadow fae go last, so tall and gorgeous and tattooed they look like extras from a music video. Severin and Hannah follow them in, my friend giving me one last happy smile and wave before turning back to her husband.

“Is there anything we need to do?” Rune asks.

“Oh, yeah.” I start running for the soap barn, him loping easily along beside me. “I don’t have any of the soap samples ready, and the goats are still in the southern pasture. Will the fae care whether they see goats?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” he rumbles. “I think the more important question is, will the goats be all right seeing fae?”

“I don’t know. Babybelle does fine with it.”

“Babybelle’s special because she’s your familiar.”

“She’s going to love that you said that.” I shoot him a grin. “But you’re right. Let’s play it safe and leave the goats in the pasture for now.”

I show Rune how to slice a bar of PSL soap into sample sizes and start wrapping the ones he makes with the pretty orange ribbon and tags. In no time at all, we have a sample platter filled.

Before we head back, he picks up a small dish and sweeps up all the little chunks that fall off the soap when you cut it. When I shoot him a questioning glance, he gives me a little smirk. “You’ll see.”

And I do. We reach the prize tables right as the pixies exit the maze. They swarm over the little chunks of soap, oohing at the scent. Before I know it, all the tiny pieces have disappeared, stashed away in their little blue-leaf clothing.

“Thank you,” I lean over to Rune and whisper. “It was a great idea to have something for them too.”

His pleased smile warms my chest.

The wood nymphs emerge and head straight for the candy corn, ripping open the packets and pouring the entire contents into their mouths in one go. Note to self: wood nymphs totally have a thing for sugar.

As do the gnomes! They front flip from the exit and gobble down the orange candy before diving into the ground, leaving little grass clumps behind.

The shadow fae come last, arrowing in on the soap table to smell each type.

Severin and the others talk among themselves with all the solemnity of wine enthusiasts discussing a new vintage. Excitement skitters along my nerves when they all choose my homemade PSL soap.

“See, Rune, I knew you could do it,” Hannah says. “Your soap is a hit.”

“What?” I gape at my bestie.

A huge hand grips my shoulder in a comforting squeeze. “The wish swap spell.”

“I know, it’s just… startling coming from her,” I whisper. She’s listened to me talk about making soap for effing years. Hell, last fall, I talked Hannah and Skye’s ears off when I kept tinkering with the pumpkin spice latte recipe trying to get it just right.

The sound of the first hayride arriving snaps us into motion. I give Hannah a hug goodbye and hear her also thank Rune for the hay maze instead of me. I know none of it’s on purpose, but I’m so effing ready to break the spell! Operation Wish Swap needs to hurry up and finish!

Later that evening, the last group of people exits the maze, and I want to bounce around like Babybelle. This is it! We’ve done it! We put on one of the best hay mazes in years and got everyone in town interested in the farm again.

A family of three brings up the rear, the parents grabbing PSL soap samples, while the little boy chooses candy corn. Then he races over to the petting zoo, chubby arms shoved through the fence as Babybelle basks in his attention.

When his father tries to pull him away, he screams, “No!” It’s so piercingly high, Rune gives a visible wince.

The mother joins in. “Tommy, dear, don’t you want to take the fun hayride back to town? There will be horsies.”

“I don’t want horsies.” He stomps a tiny foot and makes grabby hands toward Babybelle. “I want a baby goat.”

“We can’t have a baby goat, honey. We don’t live on a farm.”

“I want one! I want one!”

Oh, boy, we’re headed straight for toddler meltdown territory.

When his mother tries to tug him away from the fence, the little boy yells the very thing I’ve been dreading for days: “I wish the baby goat was mine!”

Oh, god, no!

Magic sizzles through me like I stuck my finger in a light socket. Eyes clamped shut, I strain with everything I have, slowing the wish, drawing out its completion.

Not Babybelle! Even if the boy could take care of a goat—and the mother made it clear they so totally can’t—I can’t lose my familiar! I love her.

“No!” Babybelle yells. “I don’t want to leave you, Autumn! No!”

Her cries tear at my heart. Think, Autumn, effing think!

My nerves burn as I hold the magic inside me while it battles to be let out. Sweat beads my skin, and my whole body shakes, every muscle trembling.

Could I give the little boy Mozzarella instead? Losing the regular baby goat is better than losing my bonded familiar, but it’s not fair to put any animal into a home not suited to them.

Then it comes to me. Oh! That’s perfect! A sob of relief escapes me as I create a clear image of what I want in my mind. Then I free my magic. It rushes out of me like floodwaters released from a dam, flowing out into the world.

There’s a pop, and a little goat stuffie appears in the boy’s arms. It’s mine from when I was a child, packed away in the farmhouse attic somewhere.

“Where did that come from?” the father asks.

“Autumn had it,” Rune growls, his worried eyes locked on me.

“That makes sense.” The man’s expression goes a bit dazed, and a tickle of magic hums through the air as Severin’s protection spell for Ferndale Falls goes to work on the normal humans, making them forget anything magical just occurred.

They wander back around the maze, and Rune wraps an arm around me when I try to follow and stumble a little bit. “Are you all right?”

“Not gonna lie. I’m a little fried.” Then I smile. “But I did it! I controlled my wish magic!”

“That’s wonderful.” His hand tightens on my waist. “You’re wonderful.”

We round the corner of the maze in time to wave goodbye to everyone as the hayride heads back down the driveway.

As soon as it’s out of sight, I slump against Rune. “We did it! We put on the best damned hay maze this town has seen in years.” I feel so proud to have brought back this family tradition and to have honored the memory of Nana and Pop while also helping the farm.

The air surrounding us swirls with magic, and a weight lifts, leaving me feeling lighter.

“Another piece of the wish swap spell has been satisfied,” Rune says. “Only one more wish to go.”

“Yep, only one,” I lie, having zero idea how the hell to break my heart wish and actually free us from the spell.