Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep myself under control. I’ve never felt the kind of pull, the kind of connection, that I feel to this woman in all my life.
For the first time in centuries, I’m out of my element.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
“Jonas,” I reply.
“What were you doing in the woods last night?” The question is soft, not accusatory, but most definitely curious. “And where did you go when you disappeared?”
“Are you certain you weren’t dreaming?”
Her lips firm in frustration. “Trust me, that wasn’t a dream. I’m well aware of the difference.”
But rather than push and question me further, she turns her attention to the tray of herbs on the nearby table. She talks as she begins sorting the dried blossoms, putting some in glass jars and others in a bucket.
“I’m not used to finding strange men in my woods,” she says and lifts a blossom to her nose to sniff. “Strangers, on the other hand, that I’m used to. I’ve lived and worked in Salem all my life, and we get more than our share of tourists wanting to have a paranormal experience; to meet a real witch and maybe get spooked just a little.”
“And have I?” I ask as I continue watching her beautiful hands.
“Have you what?”
“Met a real witch?”
Her lips turn up, and with the flick of her fingers, the dried flower plumps back up, turning into a beautiful, fresh bloom.
“Well then,” I say with a nod. “It would seem I have.”
“You don’t have to look far around here.” She puts the blossom in a bowl of water and then returns to the task at hand. “If you’re interested in the history of witches here, I recommend hitting up the museum.”
“Do you think they have their facts straight?”
Her eyebrows climb at the question, and then she simply says, “I think they did well with what they could understand.”
Very well put.
Nera lays at his master’s feet and lets out a long sigh before starting to snore.
“He’s not usually this relaxed with strangers in the building,” Lucy says.
“He’s a good boy.”
“The best.” She reaches down to lovingly stroke the dog’s ears, and I suddenly have a vision of her running those hands over me.
I clear my throat and offer Lucy a small smile. “I like your shop very much.”
The answering smile is immediate and lights up her entire beautiful face.
“Thank you. I do, too. But my favorite place is the garden. Would you like to see it?”
“What if you get a customer?”
“I’ll know,” she says simply and precedes me through a set of doors that lead through the kitchen of her private residence and out the back door to the garden. Nera follows and runs off to chase after a butterfly. “I come out here every chance I get. If I’m happy or sad, or if I’m scared…this is where I come.”
“I can see why,” I murmur and feel the power of Lucy’s magic pulsing all around me. It’s as strong as the pull I have to her. “I didn’t know that bluebells grew in New England.”
“With the right touch, they do,” she says and tickles her fingertips over the blue blossoms. “Ninety-nine percent of what I sell in the shop comes from either this garden or my greenhouse.”
“That’s impressive.”
“I can control the product,” she says with a shrug. “I know the plants were grown with the right intention and energy. I don’t want any of my customers taking home something sinister or tainted by bad energy.”
Her thoughtfulness soothes me.
“I’m sure your customers appreciate that very much.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” she replies and turns to me, propping her hands on her hips as if she’s still trying not to reach for me. “Why do I feel like I’ve met you before last night, Jonas?”
The sound of my name on her tongue is a jolt to my system. It’s familiar and surprising all at the same time.
“I don’t know.”
She narrows her eyes and studies me for a long moment. “I think that was the truth.”
“I have no reason to lie to you about that. I don’t know why. But I can say that I feel the same. You’re…familiar to me.”
I step toward her, unable to stay away any longer. Lucy swipes at something on her cheek, leaving a smudge of dirt behind.
Without thinking, I reach up, press my fingertips to her cheek near her ear, and use my thumb to wipe away the dirt.
To my surprise, she leans into my touch, pressing her cheek against my palm, and I feel the shift inside me.
From the look in her green eyes, she feels it, too.
“It can’t be,” I whisper as she closes her eyes and wraps her hand around my wrist. “It’s impossible.”
Nera whimpers from his spot at Lucy’s knee, and she opens her eyes.