People who had never swung a hammer before had come, too. Pitching in where they could. While Julie, at least twice a week, fed everyone with sandwiches from the deli. And Reba Perkins helped Bianca landscape areas burned by the fire.
"Yes, Mother. Everyone helped. Thanks to Luke.” Her smile was effervescent. Her throat ached with appreciation Bianca knew would never ebb, nor did she want it to. She would always remember the moment when she realized, truly, that the people of Clover Falls cared about her.
Snowflakes floated heavy and huge from a rapidly darkening sky and disappeared into the pristine landscape where Bianca's gardens slept under the mantle of white. The Victorian house stood, picturesque and grand, against the frosty backdrop like a dream. Except it wasn't a dream. It was real.
Blythe reached out and took her daughter's hand, giving it a quick squeeze. Her green eyes shimmered, her smile wide with anticipation. “I can't wait to meet Luke."
Bianca swiped the tears from her cheeks, embraced her mother and gushed, “Then let's go inside. I miss him already."
* * * *
They sat comfortably in the formal dining room at the mahogany table Abigail and Lulu had presented them with as a housewarming gift. Drinking coffee and spiced cider, they indulged in huge wedges of berry pie and reminisced. Laughter and conversation sang through the air. Fire, alive and crackling, burned in the fireplace.
"I think I owe the both of you something special.” Blythe's eyes glowed appreciatively as she spoke to Fallon and Miles. “It's my understanding that without the two of you Luke would never have made it. And Bianca might have used everything she had to bring him back.” Giving Bianca's hand a fond pat, her lip quivered. In a tone thick with emotion she added, “And I would have lost her."
"Oh, Mother,” Bianca's voice was just above a whisper and she stroked her mother's arm. “I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you, too, darling.” Blythe reached over, smoothing her daughter's short hair, then caressed her cheek.
Bianca reclined in her chair, smiling tenderly at Fallon who swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. Miles looked away, cleared his throat and blinked quickly. Bianca reached for Luke's hand, his smile spreading liquid warmth through her. The tender squeeze he gave her made Bianca's heart inflate with a love she had never thought possible.
Blythe tucked long dark hair behind her ears. Her face, nearly void of makeup, was soft, youthful and radiant as she cherished her daughter with loving eyes. She reached out and fingered the black agate Bianca wore around her neck. “This is the one Gran Brenna found at Celia's tree,” she acknowledged with a romantic twinkle in her eye. “Isn't it?"
Bianca closed a fist over it. “Yes. It's the only thing that survived the fire. I haven't taken it off since.” A snag of regret in her tone made her voice crack. “Everything else is gone. All of the magical tools. Everything. I lost it all.” Biting her lip, she added, “Even Rebecca Halestrom's diary. Poor Edna, I know she must've been devastated..."
Luke's grasp on her hand tightened a little. “Bianca, she's not upset about that,” he reminded her for what was likely the hundredth time. “She said things happen for a reason. She was just glad that you and I are fine."
Bianca nodded, her chest heavy. “But still, our magical tools ... centuries old..."
Blythe tucked a finger under Bianca's chin and lifted. “Chin up, daughter. Your magic was never in those boxes.” She placed one palm over Bianca's forehead. “Your magic has always been here.” Then the other hand she placed on Bianca's heart. “And here."
Bianca beamed at Mother, eyes moist, a release of gratitude slipping through her, warm and fluid. With a wave of her hand Bianca gestured around the table. “And here,” she said. “The people in my life, the people I love, are my favorite sources of magic."
"Oh, God, enough already!” Fallon wailed, chuckling as she swiped at her cheeks again.
Laughter lifted the moment as Miles curled an arm around his sister's shoulders then tugged her near. With a fond smile she leaned against him, reaching up to stroke his cheek with an onyx-manicured hand.
Eyes twinkling, Blythe directed her attention to Luke. “Luke, dear, when is that book of yours making its debut?"
"The editor has it now.” His smile was a charming mixture of modesty and elation. “They say it'll be a few months.” The tell-tale glow in his eyes was evidence of his well-deserved pride.
"And the title is...?” Blythe lifted a dark brow.
"Love's Curse, Once Removed.” Grinning boyishly, his cheeks a handsome shade of red, he explained. “It's written as a fantasy, but based on fact. The Honeywell curse, the Halestroms and Samsons, all of that is in there. Even the fire."
"Sounds ... interesting,” Blythe hummed with a nod. “And you aren't with the magazine anymore?"
"Actually, they've been calling...” He sent a wink in Bianca's direction. “They'd like me to continue on. I can stay in Clover Falls and work with remote access on the computer.” He shrugged, holding fast to Bianca's gaze, the sparkle in his eyes turning her heart over. “We're thinking about it. But I have a lot of ideas for novels rolling around in my head..."
"There's lots of empty room in there,” Fallon teased, flashing him a wicked grin. “You could probably sublet."
He lifted a brow, saying nothing. Everyone else tittered quietly. With a calm it had taken months of being exposed to Fallon to finesse, Luke casually turned his attention back to Bianca's mother.
"Blythe, I'd really enjoy hearing your thoughts on one thing in particular. What do you think about the curse? Was it lifted? Was it hype? Or did it die with Cabot Halestrom?"
"Hmm...” She took a sip of her coffee then dabbed a folded napkin over her mouth. “Actually...” Leaning over she lifted her purse from the floor. Digging around inside of the cumbersome bag, she pulled out a folded newsprint page. “I'd like to quote this reporter, who I think nailed it quite well, in his article entitled ‘A Curse Is Foiled Again.’”
Fallon and Miles laughed softly while Bianca and Luke exchanged knowing, amused glances.
Blythe read, Is the Honeywell Curse over? Well, that's for anyone to decide. There are no more full-blooded Halestroms. That branch of Liam's family tree died with Cabot. Perhaps the curse was both satisfied and lifted in one tragic night when a witch was nearly murdered in the house she loved by a revenge-obsessed man who plunged from a bridge to his death. She smiled at Luke, took a breath, then continued. Irony runs thick through this tale but, when all is said and done, there's hope—a shining light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.
Bianca, Luke, Fallon and Miles all looked at her with rapt attention as she continued to read.
For some believe the ghost of Celia Honeywell found it in her heart to forgive, on that one catastrophic night when she helped a man save the woman he loved. A love that, perhaps, tested the limits of the Honeywell curse. A love that came in spite of fear to rescue a woman and a man fate clearly planned to bring together. He saved her then she, in turn, saved him, proving that love indeed will risk anything to survive. Celia Honeywell couldn't have asked for a better reason to lift a curse born in sadness and pain. Blythe paused, cleared her throat, blinked moist eyes then finished, Now may she and the Honeywell curse finally rest peace.
"Ooh ... Goosebumps on parade,” Fallon breathed, extending both arms for everyone to see. “Happens every time.” She wagged a finger at Luke. “You're good."
He laughed, color springing to his cheeks, then reached for his coffee, taking a long swig to mask his embarrassment.
Blythe's smile was one of satisfaction as she folded the article then stuffed it back inside her purse.
"But,” Luke reminded her with a twinkle in his eyes, “I wanted to hear what you thought."
"I think the same thing you do, of course.” She flashed an impish grin that matched her daughter's. To Bianca she asked, “What about you, dear? Still frustrated with Celia?"
Bianca waved a hand, her smile genui
ne. “Oh, I'm over it. After all she helped save my life. And Luke's. Then my life again.” She giggled, shaking her head.
"Ha!” Miles always enjoyed the chance to retell Bianca's story. “Celia just shoved B away from that bright light.” He wagged a finger at Bianca. “I warned you to be careful."
"He was at death's door,” Bianca chimed with a glance at Luke. “What did you think I would do?"
"Well,” Miles huffed. “I guess we're just lucky that Celia knows you as well as I do.” To Blythe he said, “Celia was waiting there, probably standing with her arms folded, tapping her foot, in front of that bright light, just knowing little miss thing over here—” He waved a hand at Bianca. “—would get in over her head."
Bianca smiled at Luke, his face soft, loving, appreciative, and she lifted her chin, giving Miles a steady, defiant glare. “And I'd do it again."
Miles threw up his hands. “Blythe, your daughter—"
"Is a Honeywell,” Blythe interjected. A wide, proud beam curved her mouth. With a mother's affectionate touch, she caressed Bianca's shoulders. “We think with our hearts and fly by the seat of our pants. Thank heavens we've got magic on our side.” She winked. “And feisty ancestors to greet us at the end of the tunnel then give us a good shove back home.” Blythe exhaled a reflective sigh. “Well, dear, I didn't come here to dredge up the past. We're starting fresh, remember?” She reached over to gently tweak Bianca's cheek. “We have a wedding to plan."
A thrill zipped through Bianca, quick and elating. In three months, when April came to melt the winter away and rejuvenate the gardens, there would be a wedding at the Honeywell house.
Blythe waved her hands, excitement and impatience mounting. “Well, come on! Chop, chop! I want to see bridal books. Do you have dress ideas? You know, if you plan to have me design your gown, we've got to get working on it right now."
"I'm doing the flowers,” Miles announced with a confident smile. “It's one of my gifts."
"And I'm in charge of booking a caterer,” Fallon added, clearly searching for Blythe's approval. “I'm good with food."
Blythe laughed, reached across the table, taking each of their hands in her own. “That sounds perfect. You've known Bianca for so long, I can't imagine how she'd manage without you."
"I'll get those bridal magazines,” Bianca said, shoving up from the table.
"I've got my flower design ideas in the car,” Miles said, digging into his pocket for keys as he left the room.
"And I have a list of quotes from caterers in my bag.” Fallon hurried off to locate her purse.
"I'll ... do the dishes,” Luke said with resignation, reaching for Blythe's plate. When he did, she took his hand.
For a moment his breath stopped between his throat and lungs. He lifted his gaze, connected with hers, as warmth from her touch flooded through his veins. It put him at ease. Emotions powerful and heartwarming reached a crescendo inside of him.
"Thank you.” Her words were quiet, husky with sentiment that touched him someplace deep. The way his mother's Love you more than anything in the world, Lucas always had.
"For—?” he choked over the lump in his throat.
"For coming.” The flicker in her green eyes said she understood on a deeper level. “You came because of the curse, but in spite of it, too. And you loved, heedless of the chance that you might die. That gives me hope, Lucas."
Emotion stung the backs of his eyes and he swallowed hard over the ache in his throat. “I love your daughter."
"I know.” Her eyes twinkled. “And you're worthy of her."
His grin was sheepish. “Um ... thanks?"
She laughed, her eyes dancing. “She's worthy of you, too.” With an affectionate kiss on his cheek, she added, “Thank you for giving me a place to come home to."
"The house? Well that wasn't my doing entirely..."
She shook her head. “Not just the house. You've made a difference here. I don't feel like ... an outcast anymore."
"With all due respect,” he confessed willingly, “Bianca had more to do with that than I did."
"I'm sure she did,” Blythe agreed with a steady nod. “She's always lived her truth. It takes a strong woman to do that. Bianca is stronger than I am.” She touched his cheek.
"You had something to do with that.” He smiled, his sentiment sincere.
"Thank you.” She nodded once, pressed her lips together, and blinked eyes that glistened. When she could, Blythe continued, “But you, Lucas, helped people to understand, with the article you wrote. You made a difference.” With an understanding smile she said, “My daughter loves this town. I think, for the most part, this town has always loved her. But they feared her, too. That hasn't changed completely. It may never. But as long as talented writers like you continue to print the truth, the scales tip in our favor. People learn tolerance."
"I hope so,” he said, his heart swelling. He wondered if Blythe realized that she had just paid him a huge compliment. One he could never tire of hearing.
Her beaming smile widened. “And you love her."
"Love her? Oh, God! I really, really love her.” His heart jerked then punched hard in his chest.
Love was never a strong enough word to describe what he felt for Bianca Honeywell. It barely scratched the surface.
Blythe glanced down at their clasped hands. With a grin mischievous around the edges she teased, “Yes, dear. I know you love her.” Again she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Now tell me, how do you feel about children?"
He grinned. “A baby would be great. That's something we can hardly wait for. Starting a family."
Blythe let go of his hand and turned away, her laughter giddy. “Not just a baby, Luke.” She tossed a smile over her shoulder as she left the room. “Children. A whole house full of them. How do you feel about that, darling?"
By the time Luke realized her ulterior motives for holding his hand, Blythe had sashayed out of the dining room and into the den. She, like her daughter, had the gift of sight after all.
A house full of children?
He grinned, his heart ballooning. His mind conjured up images of their Victorian house filled with squeals of laughter, cluttered with brightly colored toys, brimming over with enough love and joy to last for decades to come.
And magic.
There would be magic. The children would inherit Bianca's gifts, no doubt. Man. Was he ever in trouble. The prospect ... thrilled him.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head, stroking hands through his hair. “Bianca!” he called out, just as she came through the kitchen door, entering with an armful of bridal magazines. He took the stack and set it on the table while she watched him curiously.
"Is something wrong?"
Luke embraced her gaze, held it intimately. She was so beautiful, so perfect, and the love he felt for her pulsed steady through his veins, bringing him infinite contentment.
"I am so in love with you,” he murmured, pulling her near, enjoying the scent of her, the rosemary and mint soap.
Her laughter was like music. She pressed close and gazed up at him with adoration evident in her eyes. “Well, that's quite a coincidence, Luke Hale, because I am so in love with you, too."
When she planted a tantalizing kiss on his lips, Luke felt a familiar ache sizzle in his veins. He simply couldn't get enough of her. But he had a lifetime to try.
"Is that what you wanted to tell me?” She cocked her head to one side, watching him with growing interest.
A house full of children, he thought, nearly bursting with laughter. Some things were better left to surprise. After all, it wasn't often he was privy to a vision that Bianca wasn't. He'd tell her ... eventually.
For now, Luke just wanted to kiss her. So he did. And love spilled over his heart, flowing through him, sweet and warm as honey. They had many tomorrows ahead of them. A lifetime of love. A house full of children. Memories to make and to cherish.
That was when the real magic would begin.
T
he End
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