A Reckless Witch

CHAPTER 11



“How’s our Sierra doing?”

Nell looked over at where Moira sat, needles clicking, and tried not to curse her own knitting swatch. She was one of the few fire witches who really disliked knitting. Weird, but true—and heresy here at Caro’s house. “Settling down, I think. She’s been pretty quiet. Headed out to the beach this morning for a walk.”

Sophie, knitting next to Moira, frowned. “Is it a good idea for her to be out there alone?”

Nell shrugged. She’d tangled with exactly the same question watching Sierra walk out the door. “She’s not a child.”

“Still needs some mothering, though.” Moira smiled. “She’ll be fine. A walk on the beach will soothe her soul. We water witches need our time to commune with the sea. I often do exactly the same when my mind’s in turmoil.”

That was one of the things worrying Nell. “More numb than in turmoil at this point, I think.”

Sophie leaned forward, in healer mode. “Is she clearing the trauma, or bottling it?”

“I’m not sure.” Nell gestured toward Lauren. “I asked her to come visit later today. My mind-witch powers aren’t up to the task. You might give her some pointers on what to look for—she hasn’t been around a lot of traumatized witches yet.”

Sophie grinned. “I’ll do that in a bit. I think she’s rather busy at the moment.”

Nell looked over at Lauren’s frustrated face, sympathetic. Some people found knitting a twelve-inch swatch the work of a few minutes. Lesser knitters would take a few hours. Poor Lauren, who had never knit before, was probably going to be at it for days.

Ah, well. Moira had decreed that Sierra needed a welcoming blanket, so a welcoming blanket she would get. Nell glanced over at her son, sitting beside Caro, who was helping him with repairs on his swatch and sneaking in a row or two as she did it. There were some advantages to being four. Or almost five. “Are you guys coming for Aervyn’s birthday?”

“Of course.” Moira smiled. “Where else would we be?”

Nell grinned. “I don’t know. I thought you might have some other plans for Winter Solstice.”

“And that we do. But we’ll get them done and still make your wee boy’s party, and mayhap a birth as well.”

Nat sat over by Jamie, quietly knitting away on the swatch resting on her belly. “You think she’ll crash Aervyn’s birthday, do you?” That would figure. Babies had impeccable timing. Not that he would mind.

Moira’s voice got that eerie, otherworldly tinge it sometimes got. “Aye. That baby girl’s got the blood of ten-times-ten generations of witches running in her veins, and power already running through her fingers. Destiny will call to her this Solstice.”

Nell shivered. It was hard not to believe in destiny and portents when Moira used that tone. “I’ll make extra birthday cake.”

Sophie grinned and spoke in a stage whisper. “It’s so creepy when she does that, isn’t it?”

They giggled quietly together. Or rather, she and Sophie giggled. Moira positively cackled.

~ ~ ~

Lauren frowned over at Devin, her emergency knitting instructor. Apparently she was lacking in a key witch life skill—everyone else in Caro’s living room seemed to know what they were doing. “I have to make it how big?” The swatch hanging on her needles wasn’t growing very fast.

He grinned and glanced at Aervyn, tucked in by Caro’s side. “Dunno, but probably at least as big as his. And preferably with a few less holes.”

It was more than a little embarrassing to be out-knit by a four-year-old. “Does every witch learn how to knit?”

“The ones around here do.” Devin reached over and adjusted her yarn. “All fire witches learn as a way to channel their magic. And since Jamie’s a fire witch, Caro decided Matt and I needed lessons too.”

She eyed Caro’s flashing needles. Any woman who taught triplet boys how to knit deserved serious respect. “And when was the last time you picked up a ball of yarn?”

He laughed. “Probably the last time they wanted squares for a welcoming blanket, but it’s like bike riding. You don’t forget.”

Devin’s hands were quick and competent, and damn, if a man knitting wasn’t oddly sexy. Lauren checked her mental barriers. There were some thoughts you definitely didn’t want leaking. “It’s amazing how relaxed everyone is.”

“Eye of the storm.” Devin caught the ball of yarn that had rolled off Aervyn’s lap and tossed it back over to the couch where he sat. “Sierra’s not the first witch to make life interesting. If you don’t relax when you can, the stress builds, and that doesn’t do anyone any good.”

The planet might be better off if a whole lot more people took that advice. “So we knit and wait for the rest of the storm to hit?”

Devin grinned. “And we eat. Don’t forget that part.”

Even a newbie witch knew that much. Witches and food were never far apart. And since she was probably going to be sitting here for the next three days finishing her swatch for Sierra, she might as well take care of another hole in her witch knowledge. “So, tell me about birthing circles. What exactly have we been volunteered for?”

“Well, I can tell you what they’re usually like.” He shrugged. “Or I can give you my best guess about what we’re in for.”

Why did she never get the easy witch stuff to do? “How many birthing circles have you led?”

His eyes flashed humor. “None.”

That’s what she’d been afraid of. “What kind of crazy people put two newbies in charge of a circle at a birth everyone seems to think is going to get a bit nuts?”

Devin’s eyes got suddenly serious. “You’re the mind witch. You know exactly why.”

Sigh. Yeah, she did. “Because they trust us.”

He nodded, his mind radiating the kind of sure strength you’d want beside you in an emergency. Or the birth of a fire witchling. Watching him in action with Sierra had been a pointed reminder that for all his goofing around, this Sullivan brother had a deep core of strength, just like Jamie. Nothing was going to go wrong on his watch.

Knowing they’d both go to the wall for the people they loved was comforting. She’d learned a lot about teamwork in the last few months, but this was for Nat. “How do we get ready?”

And just like that, his mind switched back to happy-go-lucky Devin. “Not much to get ready for. We just roll with whatever comes.”

Not a chance. In real estate, negotiations could get tricky, and Lauren knew how to fly by the seat of her pants. But preparation still made the difference in a lot of deals. She also knew better than to waste her breath trying to convince Devin of that. “Run me through a couple of what-ifs and how you’d roll with it.”

He just raised an eyebrow.

She held up her pathetic knitting swatch. “Humor me. I’m still new to this witching stuff. In the world I come from, a doctor comes out to the hospital waiting room and tells you everything’s fine and the baby’s a girl.”

“We already know she’s a girl.” He reached over for her knitting. “You’re making holes again.”

Sometimes you had to pull out the big guns. Talk, or I’ll tell Nell who swiped her last batch of Nutella cookies.

He actually turned a little white. “Shit. I had that buried. You’re a damned good mind witch.”

Such flattery. “And only a mind witch. How will that impact the birthing circle? Nell said Aervyn won’t be in the inner circle, and he’s usually my connection to everyone else.” It was thoughts like that keeping her up at night.

“You really are new to this.” He looked up, his brain suddenly serious again. “It’s not like our normal full circles, although it can morph into that if needed. Part of the reason we were picked is because we have the primary talents they expect to need. Water magic in case our little girl comes out blazing. Mind magic to help the healers keep her calm and feeling safe. Birth is a pretty big transition, and some babies handle it better than others.”

Lauren was pretty sure her face was going white now. “That’s kind of a big responsibility for someone who’s never actually seen a birth before.”

“You can handle it.” He spoke casually, still fixing the holes in her knitting swatch, but she could feel his sincerity.

“Why are you so sure?” It was nice to be trusted, but they’d never worked magic together.

He handed back her neatly repaired square. “I’ve seen you in action. But more than that, you hold the power streams for Aervyn in full circle. If my sister and my brother trust you enough to do that, I’d trust you with my life.” And he meant it. Just that simple. Then his grin flashed. “Besides, no way I’m letting you abandon me to watch my sister-in-law give birth alone.”

He clearly meant that, too.

Nat was going to have a baby. That still rocked her to the core when she really thought about it.

Devin touched her shoulder. Back to the intent eyes again. “They’ll be awesome. Can you think of any two people you’d rather trust with a baby than Jamie and Nat?”

She grinned. He was right—they would be awesome. And maybe their backup wasn’t as shaky as she’d thought. However, she was going to sit Sophie down and grill her, first chance she got.

Right after she got her knitting swatch done and Devin’s eyes out of her head.

~ ~ ~

“Are you cold? Do you need to put your feet up?” Ginia tucked a blanket around Sophie’s expanding waist and pulled out a bottle of water to put on the floor beside her. “It’s non-toxic paint, but I still think it’s a good idea to leave the patio door open.”

Sophie grinned. Ginia sounded like a miniature Moira. “I’m fine, sweetie. And you can’t get out of painting by taking care of me all afternoon.” Nell had shuttled her through Realm to come supervise the painting of Sierra’s apartment—and to pick up some clues about what kind of furnishings she might like.

Ginia grinned. “Sierra’s still trying to decide on all her colors.” She motioned to the group over at the counter. “Come over here—maybe Sophie can help us decide.”

In moments, there were about a hundred paint chips spread out over the floor. At least half of them were pink. Tahiti Sunrise. Bubblegum. Pinkify Me. It was a selection that had nine-year-old girl written all over it. Sophie grinned at Sierra. “It’s your apartment—do you have a favorite color?”

She giggled. “Well, I like pink. But I’m not sure I want to live in the middle of an entirely pink room.”

Indeed. Time to impart some gentle decorating advice. “I usually like to pick a pretty relaxing color for my main room. Then you can use funky colors in small spaces, or on furniture, or art.”

Sierra laughed, sweeping her hands around the empty room. “I don’t exactly have a lot of furniture.”

Not yet. Sophie spread out her arms. “Tell me what it would look like if it was done up any way you wanted.”

Sierra just blinked. Clearly no one had asked her a question like that in a very long time.

Ginia held out a paintbrush and tapped her on the shoulder. “I am your Fairy Godmother Giniarella. What kind of room can I bring you, oh lucky peasant girl?”

Now Sierra giggled, obviously more comfortable with goofy games than serious questions. She closed her eyes and spun around a few times. Mia grabbed her just before she bumped into a wall, and four giggly girls collapsed on the floor.

Sophie hoped Sierra offered up some clues soon. The real fairy-godmothers-in-waiting needed the inside scoop, and she really needed to pee. This whole being-pregnant thing was starting to get uncomfortable.

Sierra looked around at her walls, considering. “Maybe something watery. I’d kind of like to feel like I’m floating in the ocean.”

That sounded like a good fit for a water witch, but oceans came in a lot of different moods. Sophie dug a little. “In Nova Scotia right now, that would mean all gray and blustery.”

“Uh, uh.” Sierra rolled over. “Warm blue water, like Hawaii in the summer, or Tahiti.”

The girl had been to Tahiti? Lucky her. But they could work with a Hawaiian-ocean theme. “What else can you see as you float?”

“Happy fish. I used to like the yellow stripey ones best—they were the most curious. And the huge old green sea turtles, and big red flowers on my favorite beach towel.” Sierra was lost in memory now, eyes closed and a smile on her face that tugged at Sophie’s heart.

Then her face fell, and Ginia and Sophie both reached out, the heartache that had just hit obvious to any healer. Ginia touched Sierra’s cheek gently, offering comfort even as her nine-year-old heart struggled to understand. “Did you go there with your mom? To Hawaii?”

“Yeah.” Sierra sat up and cuddled her knees. “We went back there a lot. I was born in Hawaii, in the ocean.”

Ginia’s eyes opened wide. “That’s so cool.”

Sierra grinned. “Momma said she felt like a whale, so it made sense.”

Sophie giggled quietly and rubbed her belly. She was beginning to understand how that felt, and she was nowhere near as big as Nat yet.

Shay got up and started collecting blue paint chips. “Are any of these the right kind of watery color?”

Sophie watched as the four girls put their heads together and began debating the merits of Blue Moon, Tropical Turquoise, Forget Me Not, and her personal favorite, Love In a Mist. Quietly she pulled out her cell phone and began to text instructions to the waiting brigade of shoppers.

And then she needed to contemplate Sierra a little longer. The girl was putting on a good front. But Sophie was pretty sure she wasn’t feeling nearly as bubbly as her exterior might suggest.

~ ~ ~

Nat tried not to grunt as she extracted herself from the car. It was sad and pathetic to drive less than four blocks to go shopping, but Jamie insisted on having the car nearby these days. Which was pretty funny when he could have teleported her the four blocks home.

Mostly she just wanted an anti-gravity device that would make her feel a little lighter. She hadn’t been upside-down in three months, and every organ in her body had settled in somewhere under her ribs.

And that was enough very-pregnant-lady whining. She smiled over at Jamie, who was reading the incoming text on his phone. “Do we have our mission?”

“Yeah.” He frowned. “Hawaiian ocean in spring. Aren’t we supposed to be getting shopping instructions?”

He was so cute. “Those are instructions, sweetie.”

“Not. Instructions are things like ‘eight-foot couch’ or ‘table and four chairs.’”

Well, she hadn’t married him for his shopping skills. “We know Sierra needs all that stuff, but this is about more than making sure she has a place to sit and sleep. It’s about making her a home.” Nat tried to imagine Hawaii in spring in her mind. It sounded lovely.

“Eight-foot couches are homey.” Jamie pointed hopefully at the furniture store.

She started waddling in that direction. Everyone waddled at nine months pregnant. It was humbling. “Well, we need to find a homey couch that will remind Sierra of Hawaii in spring.”

“One couch with palm fronds, coming up.”

Nat tried not to giggle. It wasn’t a safe activity with a belly this big. “I don’t think we have to be quite that literal.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead and opened the store door. “Fine. I’ll judge the comfort factor. You figure out if it will pass the decorating committee’s standards.”

Ten minutes later, two things were obvious. One, furniture salespeople got really nervous when very pregnant women sat down on squishy couches. And two, most comfortable couches were insanely ugly.

Nat sat down carefully on a footstool and sighed.

Jamie looked over from his prone couch-testing position. “Maybe we’re going about this backwards. What would the perfect couch look like?”

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine. “Curvy lines. Watery, so squishy and soft. Sophie says the walls are going to be a soft blue color, so maybe a darker blue for the couch, with a really soft fabric.” She touched the footstool. “Most of these are way too scratchy. We want it to feel like water, not carpet. Some pretty pillows and throws—I think Caro and Moira are taking care of that.”

“We’re in the wrong place, then.” Jamie grinned. “I know the perfect couch.”

Hallelujah. Levering up off the footstool, she took his hand. “Where are we going?”

“Home.” He laughed as she stopped in confusion. “You know that ugly monstrosity in our basement?”

It was olive green and coffee-stained—and one of Jamie’s most prized possessions. “You’re going to give her The Monster?”

He shrugged and headed for the door. “Sure. It’s perfect. Big as an ocean and comfy and curvy. It just needs a new cover. I’ll call Nell—we must know someone who can sew.”

The generosity of the witching community still made Nat catch her breath with regularity. Her husband would give up his couch, get it a new cover, and think nothing of it.

She was a lucky woman. And maybe not the only one. Things were stirring for another Sullivan brother. “So what do you think about Devin and Lauren?”

“What about them?”

“You think what’s flying between them will go anywhere?”

Jamie stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

She grinned. It was serious fun figuring things out faster than a mind witch. “I think it started at our wedding, actually, but it’s getting really obvious now. Did you see them at knitting this morning?”

“Dev? And Lauren?” Jamie was practically squeaking.

Yeah. Not the likeliest of pairs, on the surface. “The beginnings are there, but they might just ignore it. Lauren’s always been really happy on her own. She needs a guy less than anyone I know.”

Jamie stared another long moment—and then his face slowly lit with mischief. “Well, that might be the one thing Dev would find irresistible.”

Possibly. Nat kissed his cheek. “Resist the urge to meddle.”

“Oh, we’ve already done that.” He grinned. “We put them together in our birthing circle.”

She was missing something. “And how is that meddling?”

“They’re going to be scared witless, depending on each other, and overwhelmed by our gorgeous girl.” He snickered softly. “Mom will be thrilled.”

Nat shook her head, amused. “It’s not exactly a done deal yet.”

His eyes shone with the kind of glee she usually saw in his four-year-old nephew. “No, but Mom will be here in a couple of days. And no one meddles better than Retha Sullivan.”

They stepped out of the store into the much busier street—and two feet kicked into Nat’s ribs hard enough to make her double over. Jamie grabbed her arm, concern all over his face. “Contractions?” Then he shook his head. “No, I can feel her mind—her head hurts. Too many people.”

He laid a hand on her belly and closed his eyes for a minute. She could feel the baby instantly quiet. “Whatever you did, she’s much happier now.”

He nodded. “I threw up barriers, just like I did for Lauren once upon a time. I think all the strange minds confused her.”

Nat tried to breathe and roll with the newness. “Ginia’s been coming over to clear our channels every day. Is there more we need to do?”

He shrugged. “Ideally we teach our sweet girl to barrier, but as Lauren’s discovering, that’s tricky just yet. I tried lessons with Aervyn before he was born, too. Some stuff worked a little, some didn’t. Lauren’s a way better mind witch though, so maybe she’ll have better luck.”

Magic lessons for an unborn witch. She definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.