Read The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) for Free Online

back.”
    Merry squeezed my shoulder and nodded.
    “Well,” Eve said, stretching. “Are you going to pick us up dinner, or not?”
    Ruth Anne stood and shrugged. “Yeah, but I might have to take Merry's car since I can’t find my... Hey! What's Monty doing with my keys?”
    Sure enough, my son's fist was balled up around her keychain.
    “I have no idea.” There was nothing else in his bassinet except for a blanket, a small bear, and a pillow. I hadn't given the keys to him, and I couldn't imagine the others had either. Merry would have thought them unsafe, and Eve would have thought them unsanitary.
    Ruth Anne carefully extracted her keys from the sleeping baby and shook her head. “You all need to stop screwing with me, or you'll be on your own for dinner.” With that, she left, slamming the door behind her.
    Montana didn't wake. Luckily, he could sleep through a thunderstorm. I knew this, firsthand.

    AS I WRESTLED the plastic sled from the dilapidated storage shed we lovingly referred to as “Spiderville,” I began to question my sanity.
    “It’s closure,” I told Montana, but it was nothing of the kind. I wasn't closing my heart on Shane Doler by taking this pilgrimage; I was inviting his spirit in.
    Carrying my son in one arm, I pulled the sled up Settler's Hill with the other. Halfway up the slope, a jar of Montana's peas fell from my bag and rolled back down. Montana seemed delighted, chortling as the jar disappeared from view.
    “Don't get too excited,” I said, as I stopped to zip the bag and catch my breath. “Mommy has twenty more jars back home.”
    It was a tough hike, laden with both baby and sled, and the day was unseasonably warm. The knoll had taken a beating during the rains, and the ground was riddled by small divots and slides. Every step was laborious, but I told myself this was penance––penance for not telling Shane how much I loved him while he was still here. Penance for yelling at him the last time we were together. Penance for my anger and jealousy. Penance for not saying goodbye.
    I couldn't literally travel back in time to right these things, but symbolically I could.  
    At last, we reached the top of the hill.
    The sky was a crisp blue ribbon––an endless expanse of hope that kept the downhearted chugging along. Winter was a better time for grief, when everything died along with you.
    “Your first sled ride, Montana,” I said, looking around. “What do you think?”
    He kicked and squealed in response. I positioned the sled behind a large rock so it wouldn't set sail without us. I placed the baby bag down at the front end.
    “Almost ready,” I said, looking into my son’s eyes. “First, let me tell you about a man I once knew named Shane Doler. He was a bit of a dork with a terrible case of hat hair, but underneath that mop he was a really good guy. The best, in fact.
    “He had gray eyes,” I added. “Not like your daddy's, softer.”
    I breathed in the scents of summer grass and wildflowers, exhaling deeply before continuing.
    “He saw people––who we were, and who we were meant to be. He saw the best in all of us, made us believe in ourselves again, and in this town.” I sighed as memories flooded me. Even the bad ones had meaning now. “He could find things. Anything! Trees. Witches. Me. He was the great love of my life.” I kissed the top of Montana's head. “Until you came along, kiddo.”
    Montana regarded me, his face sunshine and smiles, but behind the smile there was something else––an archaic wisdom in my infant's eyes. He almost seemed to understand. I retrieved the photo of Shane from my skirt pocket and held it up for him. Montana titled his head and studied the photo with me. “He'll always be in our hearts, but I still miss him.”  
    Montana placed his hand on my cheek.
    “Mommy's fine,” I soothed him, glancing at my bare ring finger and feeling that familiar sense of longing and loss. “Let's do this.”
    I squatted onto the back