by Lucia Ashta
“It’s the only way it’s gonna happen,” Bab said. “You look like you’ll run away the first chance you get.”
“Who? Me?” A nervous laugh laden with guilt rolled through him, all but proving Bab’s point.
“I wish—” Bab started, and I hurried to interrupt her.
“You’re right in that he seems wily. Word your wish really carefully. Use all the legalese.”
“Got it.” Bab straightened her shoulders in determination, finally revealing signs of strain at holding the leprechaun up all this time. He probably only weighed thirty or forty pounds. Even so, I suspected my arm would have shaken right off by now. Bab’s was only trembling slightly. But then, I didn’t pound dough into submission all day long, every day of my life.
“Leprechaun,” Bab said. “Wait. Maybe I should have his name. What’s your name, leprechaun?”
“I’m not gonna tell ya that! Bad enough ya already have me strung up like a goose.”
“Fine. Leprechaun, grant me my first wish.” She took a deep, steadying breath and released it slowly. “I wish for the barrier spell that protects this town to be fully repaired.”
“Tell her to specify that it’s Gales Haven,” Mindy directed urgently. “I don’t trust him.”
Agreeing, I relayed her directives.
Bab said, “Don’t go granting my wish, leprechaun, till I tell you it’s complete. I wish for the barrier spell that completely covers and protects all of the town we are in, which is called Gales Haven, to be completely and fully fixed. I wish for Delise Contonn’s magic to be removed from it and whatever damage or changes she caused to be completely repaired. I also wish for the barrier spell to work as well as it was before she added her powers to it, and even better.”
Bab looked to me, also flicking a glance at Mindy. “Should I also wish that the barrier become impenetrable? Like, so that the barrier spell can never be broken again?”
“Yes,” I answered right away.
“Sounds risky,” Mindy said. “What if that changes things in ways we can’t anticipate right now?
I relayed Mindy’s concerns to Bab, and then we all mulled it over thoughtfully, even the leprechaun.
“Seems ta me it’s not right ta keep everyone else out,” he commented. “I only got in ‘cause I happened ta be in the area when the spell broke. My magic be so powerful, I only needed a little dip ta get in.”
After deliberating for a moment, and well aware that there might be unanticipated cons to this plan, I told Bab, “Do it. Whatever happens will be better than having Delise’s magic in there doing who knows what. Not even Everleigh has been able to reweave the barrier spell without Delise’s magic getting in the way. And you know Everleigh is a badass.”
“No doubt,” Bab said. “We’ve got to do it.” She faced the leprechaun again. “This is in addition to the terms of my wish as I’ve already stated them. I also wish that the barrier become resistant to any future interference or attack. The barrier spell will remove Delise Contonn’s magic, reweave itself perfectly, including the provisions for Marla’s daughter Macy being able to remain in Gales Haven while coming and going as she pleases, without any damage to the barrier spell.”
That Bab would remember my daughter in the midst of all this chaos warmed my heart.
“My wish is to make the barrier spell so strong that no one can break it, and no one can come into the town … without the unanimous approval of the entire council of Gales Haven.”
“That’s great, Bab,” I interjected. “Awesome idea.”
Encouraged, she continued, “My wish makes the barrier spell indestructible, and the only way any changes of any sort can be made to it is with the complete and unanimous permission of the entire Gales Haven Council.”
Then she looked to me and Mindy. “Good enough?”
I shrugged and grimaced. “I hope so. I can’t think of anything else to add to your wish.”
“Neither can I,” Mindy said. “But I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anyone who would kidnap on a whim.”
“Mindy doesn’t trust him,” I told Bab.
“Well neither do I,” she said. “But if that’s all we can think of, then, leprechaun, that completes my wish. Uh, fulfill it, or whatever I’m supposed to say.”
“Treated like I’m a bloody genie,” he grumbled in her hold. “Fine. Have yer wish already.”
Blinding orange and green light flashed, filling the kitchen. Mindy and I squealed in shock, and Bab screamed.
With my eyes scrunched tightly shut, I waited, hoping the intensity of that blast hadn’t seared my retinas, and that Bab was all right.
When I could finally see again, the first thing I did was check on Bab. She looked frazzled, her peppered hair standing on end as if she’d slipped her entire hand into an electric socket. Her breathing came fast, and her eyes were too wide, but she otherwise looked okay.
“That bugger,” she snarled. “He gave me the slip.”
Damn.
She was right. He was gone. And he’d taken Jadine’s Spanx with him.
Chapter Fourteen
Mindy and I searched the prep area while Bab returned to man the counter out front, but there was no sign of the rapscallion anywhere. He’d either vanished, courtesy of his magic, or sprinted out the back door when none of us could see in the aftermath of the flash so bright that it had felt like an instrument of torture or interrogation.
Since it seemed that the leprechaun’s visit to Bab’s bakery was random, there was no reason to think he’d return. Mindy and I left soon thereafter. I offered the hedgehog a ride home, wherever she and her family lived, but she refused it. She said she needed the time to clear her head so that when she reached her kids she was once more unshakable.
I was beginning to admire Mindy. She was stalwart in her dedication to her family and to the magical creatures. I’d have to remind Nan of the hedgehog’s desire to join the council as a representative of her kind. I was sure by now that the council members had seen enough of Mindy’s devotion to the well-being of Gales Haven to vote to include her.
The fact that adding Mindy would rankle Delise Contonn to no end would just be a bonus.
Finally alone, and with more than an hour yet to go before Clyde and Macy got out of school, I should have gone back to Gawama Mama House to let Nan know what happened. She’d surely want to have Scotty check the spell to see whether or not the leprechaun had actually granted Bab’s wish. The leprechaun could easily have been making the whole thing up; he definitely seemed to have a healthy dose of cunning in him. He’d been the one to mention the wishes in the first place. Sure, he’d behaved as if their mention had been a slip of the tongue, but it could have all been a ruse to secure his eventual escape.
I could have also headed to Bailey’s New & Rare Books shop. Some research on leprechauns might help. But the little guy had claimed the lore about him and his kind was wrong. While living outside of Gales Haven I’d read enough books on supposed magic to understand that just because something appeared in a book didn’t mean it was true. Besides, I was in no mood to spin my wheels. I’d been doing far too much of that lately.
I could have checked in with Wanda at her shop up the street, or given Jadine the bad news that it was unlikely I was going to recover her stolen Spanx—mostly because I was finished chasing leprechauns over something seemingly so trivial. Or I could have gone to Dixie’s house to find out whether her locator spell had even worked in the first place. Was that faint sense that I wanted to check Bab’s kitchen due to her spell, or had it been my own intuition humming along nicely as usual?
In the end, I didn’t decide anything consciously, allowing my legs to lead me wherever they wanted. Clutching the bag of Enchanted Hearts Bab had given me before I left, I wandered along Magical Main Street until I discovered myself at the entrance to Moonshine Park.
Perfect.
Moonshine Park encompassed several blocks in the heart of uptown, nature sprawling in every direction, claimin
g this site as its own to be wild and free. The grass was thick underfoot, the trees old, large, and enchanting; benches dotted the landscape as the ideal escape from life’s daily madness.
I claimed one of the benches, relaxing as I settled onto the warn slabs of wood heated by the early afternoon sun, breathing in the pure air that seemed nearly electrified it was so rich and alive. Placing the bag of Bab’s goodies on my lap, I melted, releasing all the stress of the last several days as I stared up into the tree canopy overhead.
Quade had always loved it here. It was one of his favorite places in all of Gales Haven. When we’d dated, we’d shared countless hours sprawled across one of these park benches, letting the world pass us by, wrapped up in each other.
Tilting my face to the sunshine above, I allowed my eyes to drift closed as I enjoyed the calm of the setting. Like Quade, I loved the park, and I wondered how much of that was because he loved it. I’d run away, but he’d never left me despite the distance I placed between us. He’d always occupied a space in my heart.
“Marla,” his voice whispered, and I briefly wondered whether it surged from my memories. My name was gentle on his lips, spoken with a reverence I’d never experienced from another man.
“Marla,” he said again, and I decided it was real.
Opening my eyes, I smiled up at Quade in a daze. “Hey there,” I said groggily.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Never.”
He grinned like he used to when we were together, took the seat beside me on the bench, and after a moment’s hesitation, also grabbed my hand, laying it on his thigh while he held it.
“Did the park let you know I was here?” I asked him, only partially joking. Quade had such a deep connection to nature, the premise was entirely possible. I hadn’t seen it happen when we’d been together, but that had been almost two decades ago. A lot had changed since then—for both of us.
He chuckled softly, soothing to my soul almost as much as the rhythmic rustling of the leaves from the trees overhead. “No, I was here already. I was working with one of the oaks. She’s old and usually so strong, but lately she’s been struggling.”
“Why?” I asked, more alert now. I realized how much the oaks from precolonial times meant to him. Gales Haven contained dozens of oaks that were hundreds of years old, and several of them were within the park’s boundaries.
He rubbed a hand across the scratchy stubble on his cheeks. “I’m not sure.”
He looked beautiful, the way the sunlight illuminated his whiskey-colored eyes and flashed across his dark long hair and easy smile.
“It’s almost like she’s … sad,” he went on. “I don’t understand it. I don’t know why she feels that way.”
“Well, have you talked to her about it?” To anyone else the question would be odd. But Quade had already been talking to plants when I first met him in grade school.
“I’ve been trying, but she hasn’t been talking back much. If she were a person, I’d say she’s depressed. She isn’t in the mood to do much of anything.”
“Hmmm,” I commented thoughtfully. The oak would be a large tree. I wasn’t sure what they did beyond continuing to grow ever out and upward.
The silence drew out between us until I stopped wondering how I could help the tree; no one was better suited to discover a solution than Quade.
“Is this okay?” he finally asked.
“What?” I gazed over at him lazily, wondering if every afternoon could be like this.
He held up our joined hands. “I didn’t ask first.”
Smiling at him, I stared until I had my fill. The man was gorgeous, but that was as much due to all the goodness inside him that radiated out as to his objectively pleasant looks. If not for his personality, I didn’t figure he’d be as much of a looker as he was. His kindness shone outward, in every one of his warm smiles, in every look of his compassionate eyes.
“I’m glad you want to hold my hand,” I said, then prepared to apologize again for having essentially dumped him. But in the end I decided not to. We’d already had that talk, and I didn’t want to continue living my life in the past.
Quade was giving us an opportunity at something new and precious.
Scooting closer to him, I leaned my head on his shoulder, nestling into him as I’d done so many times long before.
He sighed contentedly, making my heart flutter. We’d work things out between us. Nothing was ruined. Nothing was broken, not really.
As Nan said, I was transitioning into my perfect new beginning.
“I love it here in the park,” I commented. “It feels like you.”
He tilted his head down to look at me. “That’s a nice thing to say. This is one of my favorite places in the entire world.”
“It’s true.” I smiled. “What are some of your other favorite places?”
“In your arms.”
I pulled back to search his gaze. He was serious and intent. His eyes blazed heatedly, like he wanted to make me his forever.
The smile dropped from my face as I met his stare with just as much intensity. The moments drew out while our surroundings faded into the background. All I saw was him.
I edged closer to him. The bag from Bab’s bakery slid to the other side of the bench; our thighs pressed together through our pants.
“Marla,” he said, whispering my name so close to my lips that they vibrated. “Will you go on a date with me?”
I giggled. “A date? Aren’t we a bit…?” I’d been about to say, Aren’t we a bit old for dates? Thankfully, I stopped myself before that nonsense had a chance to slip out. Instead, I said, “Yes. I’d love to go on a date with you, Quade. When and where?”
His smile was bright. “Tomorrow night? We can figure out the where later?”
“Deal.” Grinning, I readjusted on the bench; the bag next to me crinkled. “Ooh, how about some of Bab’s Enchanted Hearts for now?”
“Hell yeah.”
His sweet tooth was as pervasive as mine. Between the two of us, we could probably polish off Bab’s entire stock.
Dipping my hand into the bag, I told him of my plans to see Mo Ellen for an eat-all-you-want spell.
He grunted.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s not because you don’t like your body as it is, right?”
“No,” I hedged, hoping it wasn’t a flat-out lie. I mean, yes, I loved my body. But also, would I change this and that if I could do it in, say, a flash of magic? Of course I would!
“I love your body,” he said, and my heart began thumping. “Don’t change a thing about it.”
“Well, quite a few things are different from the last time you saw me naked.”
“Great. I can’t wait to memorize your body all over again.”
I froze, wondering if I could physically kick my own ass for having chosen Devin over Quade.
“Sorry,” Quade said, misreading my thoughts. “Is that too fast? Do you want me to pretend I don’t already know what you look like naked? Or that I don’t want to make love with you?”
“Shit, no, Quade. I want all of that. All of it. All of you.”
To cover up my sudden blush, I dug in the bag, crinkling loudly, handing him an Enchanted Heart and grabbing one for myself.
“Did you just sniff your Heart?” he asked.
“Hell yeah I did. Do you know how much I’ve missed Bab’s sweets?” I groaned. “Oh my pickled pickle. Or Aunt Jowelle’s cooking?” I smelled the Enchanted Heart again, taking my first bite. I moaned as I chewed, not caring that the sounds coming out of me could easily be confused with sexual pleasure. I didn’t care. Bab’s baked goods were seriously that good.
I closed my eyes to fully enjoy the deliciousness. “I’d forgotten how freaking good these things are. I would’ve come back ages ago if I’d remembered.”
I snapped my eyes open. Shit. Way to be insensitive. I hadn’t come back for him, but I would have for a doughnut? Good one, Marla.
But Q
uade was smiling. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and focus on all the sounds you’re making instead.”
He leaned toward me. He was about to kiss me, and I could barely wait to feel him…
Then my Enchanted Heart was ripped from the hand I’d stretched out of the way to make room for Quade to get all up in my business.
I caught sight of a two-and-a-half-foot tall leprechaun running for all he was worth. The little dude was fast. By the time I jumped to my feet, all I caught was a final flash of his tiny little ass peeping out from under his black satin shirt, before he dove headfirst into thick bushes, taking my doughnut with him.
Chapter Fifteen
I didn’t think, I ran. I’d like to say that the theft of my doughnut didn’t affect me, that I realized it was only a pastry, and that there was no need to overreact. I could always get more from Bab.
But my reaction was visceral. The sweet taste of maple glaze still coated my tongue, and dammit, I wanted more. That Enchanted Heart was mine.
I tore off at top speed, my car keys jingling in the pocket of my leggings, announcing my pursuit as effectively as the bell on a bicycle.
“Marla,” Quade called after me before he must have realized it was pointless. I wasn’t stopping until my hands wrapped around that little scoundrel’s neck. His time of causing problems in my town was about to come to a swift end. I had better things to solve than mad capers all over town caused by a crazy little loon with his ass cheeks hanging out.
Before long, Quade’s footfalls pounded behind mine.
I ran often. I’d been running since I was a teenager and discovered that the repetitive exercise soothed the busyness of my mind. But even though I’d been running a few times a week for decades, it didn’t mean I was a lean, mean, sprinting machine. I ran a few leisurely miles, then rewarded myself with some pampering, usually in the form of chocolate, properly obliterating the effects of my exercising.