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“You mean our Weaver magic now, right?” I smiled, shifting my train of thought.
“Yes. Our magic.”
Plates of fish, salads, and steamed vegetables were brought to the table, served alongside a basket of freshly baked bread.
“Mmm… This smells delicious.”
“Let’s dig in.” Roarke’s eyes never left mine as he lifted a forkful of greens to his mouth, but a commotion outside the lodge pulled my attention away.
People in uniforms ran past the windows, heading to the edge of the rim
“What’s happened?” I asked the waitress who had stopped in the middle of the room.
“Someone has fallen off the side of the canyon.”
My eyes widened and met Roarke’s again.
He shook his head. “As unfortunate as it is, this tends to happen now and again. The winds blowing up from the canyon are so strong they can knock a person right off the trail.” He leaned closer across the table. “This has nothing to do with us.”
My eyes tracked the medical personnel running back and forth outside, snagging solidly on the gurney and a body bag being carried toward the scene.
“I’d like to go home now.” I dropped my fork, its tines clanging against my plate.
Roarke nodded and waved his hand, and the lodge disappeared.
“What are we doing back here?” I asked, looking out over the water of the Weaver’s island.
“I want to make sure you’re okay before I send you home alone.” He moved to take my hand, his brow creased with worry, but I pulled away. “Milly, talk to me. Please.”
I sat down on the cold bank, my feet barely escaping the water’s grasp. “I understand that people have nightmares, but I have a horrible feeling that what just happened will be the first thing I see on the morning news.” I looked up at him from beneath my dark lashes. “You said it yourself. Our magic is how things can happen in both places, so how is this any different?”
Roarke lowered himself onto the bank beside me. “It’s different because I will those things to follow you home. But not this. Nightmares like this are just a part of life, and as Weavers, we can’t escape being witnesses to it all.”
I pulled my knees tightly to my chest. “Well, I don’t like it.”
“I know, Milly. And I’m sorry.” The warmth of his arm settling around my shoulders was a welcome comfort. And in that moment, I realized how sheltered I’d truly been.
Mama had created a world where our simple way of life protected me, keeping me buffered from the harsh realities of existence. Sure, I’d witnessed death before—in nature with the wild animals that lived in our woods—but I’d never had to face it head on. The realization made me feel silly and insecure.
“I guess I never realized how much Mama protected me. But you’re right. It is all just a part of life.” I raised my chin, looking out over the water with a newfound sense of strength, and swore to stop burying my head in the sand. I might be naïve about some things, but I wasn’t stupid, and things like this did happen every day all over the world. I just had to get used to having a front-row seat to it all.
I turned to Roarke. Worry lines pulled at the corners of his eyes, and he was looking at me as if he thought I might break.
“I’m fine. I swear. But I am ready to go home.”
He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “See you tomorrow night?” His vulnerability was on full display now. Every move he made was tinged with fear or filled with worry he’d do something to upset me. And that broke my heart.
I woke with a start, back on the couch, my legs heavy and weak from sleeping all night and day.
Jenks’s purr vibrated through the house, loud and angry.
“It’s okay, boy. I’m here, and I’m fine.” I slunk into the kitchen, filling his empty food bowl and pouring him some fresh milk. “I’m sorry, baby. That had to be scary for you.” I rubbed a hand down his back, his small frame rising to meet my apologetic touch.
It was still dark out, but I wasn’t tired. I pulled a jar of last year’s marmalade from the fridge and grabbed a stack of crackers from the pantry.
Back on the couch, I flicked on the TV, happy the news wasn’t yet blaring on the screen. I didn’t watch many shows, usually occupying my hands with gardening or some other magical task, but tonight I only wanted to sit there and get lost in something that had nothing to do with the real world.
Switching between an infomercial on the greatest vacuum sealer ever made and the artistic stylings of a long-dead painter, I finally landed on a nature channel filled with calming trees and chirping birds. The sounds filled my small cottage with a much-needed sense of peace. It reminded me of our trip to the jungle, and I suddenly wondered if I could return without an escort now that I was officially his queen.
