Read The Magick of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root) for Free Online

head. “I love you so Goddamned much.”
    “What?”  
    I opened my eyes.  
    His jaw was hard, his eyes soft.  
    “What do you mean, you love me?” I asked, pulling away.
    “I’ve waited so long for you, Maggie. Longer than you know. I realize I shouldn’t be laying this on you, not like this. You deserve better.” He reached for my hands, clasping my fingers in between his.
    I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. Waited so long? I’d only returned to Dark Root two months ago.  
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    He dropped his head. “I’m sorry. I forget sometimes.”
    “Forget?”
    “Forget that we don’t have the same memories.”
    I tried to process this. I had almost given myself physically to this man, but he had said he loved me. In the blink of an eye everything had changed. Even if I did have similar feelings for him, my life was too complicated for love right now.  
    “Shane,” I said, “I can’t…”
    “I know you’ve been keeping something from me, Maggie. Whatever it is, I’m here for you, okay? You just got out of one relationship and the last thing you probably want is to jump into another. But I’ve waited all these years,” he said, glancing towards the tree. “I don’t mind waiting a little longer.”
    “It might be a   while,” I said, laughing even as I wanted to cry.  
    “ I hope it’s not too long,” he said, his handsome face softening. “I’d like to be able to kiss you while I still have all of my teeth.”
    “I’d like that too. I need to figure some things out first, okay?”
    “I’m not going anywhere.” He brushed a lock of my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear, studying me. “You’re so beautiful. Your hair. Your eyes. Your nose. Your freckles.”
    “I’m not beautiful.”
    “Yes, you are. And you don’t even know it. It’s one of your endearing qualities. With your looks and my culinary skills we’d make some pretty awesome children.”  
      I laughed at the irony as a large raindrop fought its way through the trees, plunking on my head.  
    “Geez. And I wasn’t even trying. Now let’s get you to your ma’s before you’re soaked.” He took my hand and led me back to his pickup.  
    Once we were buckled in, he said, “And whenever you’re ready to talk, remember I’m here.”
    “Thank you. I’ll remember.”
    He squeezed my hand and drove us out of the woods.
    As we pulled into the large dirt driveway of Sister House, I gave Shane a kiss on the cheek. In an alternate universe––one where I didn’t carry another man’s baby––I would have invited him inside and introduced him as my boyfriend. We’d spend the holidays together, making plans for Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Maybe making plans for the rest of our lives.
    But this wasn’t that universe.  
    Instead of inviting him in I said, “Hope you have a great day, Shane Doler.”
    He tipped his hat to me, a glimmer of sadness in his smoky gray eyes. “Ah, it’s the plight of the cowboy to wander the world alone.”
    “Don’t be a dork,” I said again, climbing out of the truck and smiling as though nothing serious had transpired between us. “And for the millionth time, you’re not a cowboy!”
    “Hey, it’s all I’ve got.” He forced a smile. “See you around, Miss Maggie Mae. And for the love of all that’s good and holy in this world, get rid of that thing.” He pointed to the alpaca sweater that peeked from the top of my tote bag.  
    Shane cranked up the radio, blasting Alanis Morisette’s Ironic as he sped away.
    I watched him go, then turned my attention towards my childhood home.
    Sister House. Though only half the size of Harvest Home, it appeared massive as I stood before it: a sprawling, white Victorian, with a century’s worth of secrets. My sisters and I had vanquished one demon here, but there were others, tucked into every nook and cranny of the manor. These were the ghosts of our pasts, and of things to come.