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Abigail lets out a deep sigh of resignation. “I know you have to go, but it’s hard to let you. I… I don’t think I can manage without you here.”
I raise her hands to my lips and place a soft kiss on the back of her palm, loving the soft rosy hue that spreads across her cheeks. Even now, she blushes so sweetly at the smallest things.
“I’ll call you every day that I’m away, honey,” I say, smiling into her eyes, hoping she doesn’t see the sad longing in mine. “And I’ll miss you still.”
“When do you leave?”
“Tonight.”
CHAPTEREIGHT
Igaze at the fresh set of sunflowers that Abigail set in the vase by the window. I could stare at the flowers all day, but my mind keeps going back to the man lying motionless on the bed a few feet from me. There’s too much riding on Seer’s recovery to dwell on this sense of calm that I feel sitting in this rocking chair by his window. He looks much better now but is nowhere near healed. Pocus has been gone for two days, and no one seems to have heard anything from him, not even Abigail. I can’t rid myself of this feeling of urgency pulsing through my veins. It’s like a sense of foreboding.
Pocus’s trip to England is a long shot. There’s no telling if he’ll find any useful information. I feel like something terrible will happen if I don’t find another way to help Seer find his way to consciousness. Or maybe this is just me desperately trying to find justification for the forbidden thought that, even now, seems to clamor for acknowledgment. I glance toward the bed at Seer and hesitantly back to the closed book on my thighs–Dark Rites of the Ancient World.
This book goes against everything I represent as a healer and everything I’ve learned from Mama, and the fact I’m even reading it shows how desperate I am to win.
At what cost, though?
A curt knock at the door pulls me out of my musings. I put the book away and arrange my skirt around me. “Please, come in.”
The door is pushed open and Pocus’s gorgeous wife peeps into the room with a wide smile on her face. “Hello, Tory.”
“Hey,” I say with an awkward smile. “Please, come in.”
Abigail walks further into the room, holding up a cookie tray in front of her vast belly. I watch her bend awkwardly, trying to place the tray on the table in front of me. I reach out to take the tray from her and place it on the table.
“Thank you,” Abbie says, flashing me a grateful smile. She gestures to the empty chair opposite mine. “Can I sit?”
“Oh, please do,” I say quickly, awkwardly. I feel so uncomfortable in moments like these.
Abby flashes me a sweet smile and lowers herself to the chair with a slight groan. “Jeez, it’s really getting harder to move around these days. Sometimes I feel like a waddling duck.”
“You’re gorgeous, though,” I say seriously, retaking my seat. “You look nothing like a duck.”
Abigail’s smile widens until it turns into a quick chuckle. I hope she’s not laughing at me. I only stated a fact.
Abigail leans back, looking a little more relaxed. “Thanks, Tory.” She gestures at the tray on the table. “I brought some cookies and freshly squeezed orange juice. I thought you might need some company, since you’re always locked up here with Seer. You don’t come to the main room or join us for meals. You really aren’t a people person, are you?”
“I guess I just enjoy Seer’s company that much,” I reply with an uncomfortable shrug. This is new to me. I’m not used to women my age reaching out with genuineness, and neither have I ever wanted it. The feeling isn’t bad though, just… unfamiliar.
Abby laughs and waves her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Not that I blame you. The guys can be a little… overwhelming sometimes. It’s not like there’s much to do around here, anyway. It’s not much different for me, either. I’m cool with the guys, and we do all this fun stuff together, but sometimes I just need some alone time. It’s much better when Evanesce is around. We can do all that girly stuff and bully the guys together.”
“Evanesce?” I repeat with a curious frown. I have always wondered why there were no other women in the clubhouse and haven’t really been inclined to ask anyone about it.
Abby’s face lightens up with a fond smile. “Evanesce is my best friend… Well, the only friend that I have, for now.”
She lets the last words hang between us, a tentative extension of friendship.
“I see.”
“Evanesce is also Pocus’s sister,” Abigail continues, reaching out to take a cookie from the tray. “You should know… Evanesce also has the gift of healing. So I think you two will get along really well.”
She takes a bite from the cookie and closes her eyes, chewing with relish. “You should really try some of these, Tory. I always say Frenchie is the best baker around here. Of course, he doesn’t….” She clamps her mouth shut and chuckles self-consciously. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I don’t usually ramble, but since my second trimester started, my habits have changed. Look at me blaming my baby,” she says with a breezy laugh. “I’m so sorry. I…,” she lowers her head and takes in a deep, shaky breath. When she lifted her face again, the playful light in her eyes just seconds ago was replaced by a piercing sadness.
I guess there’s something like pregnancy mood disorder, after all.
I hope she doesn’t suddenly break down into tears. If I’m uncomfortable around people, I’m even worse at consoling them.
