A Celtic Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,60

making room in the cozy nook. "I've had enough tea this morning to be floating, but Aaron has some really good cookies downstairs. I'll go raid the jar and be back in a minute."

Sophie held out the small basket in her hand. "Already raided."

"A woman after my own heart." Cass spied the contents of Sophie's other hand. "Oooh. Forget the cookies - what are those?"

"A small gift. They came out of my dye pot yesterday and dried by the fire overnight. It's a lovely wool - polwarth and cormo and a little silk mixed in." Sophie stopped her babbling - most people didn't much care about the science behind the pretty stuff.

"The colors. It's got every shade of green I've ever seen, all in one place." Cass had the skeins in her lap now, stroking them like a kitten.

Now came the tricky part - the last thing Sophie wanted to do was chase away the simple happiness in her new friend's eyes. "I talked to your nan, asked her to tell me about where you grew up. It was the hills she spoke of most, and all the many greens they become in spring."

They'd put their heads together over her dye pot, too - this hadn't been the first try, just the most beautiful one. The first batch had gone back to Ireland in the bottom of Nan's handbag.

Cass sucked in a breath. "That's exactly what they are, isn't it? The hills of home." She tipped her face into the yarn, and when she finally looked up, her eyes shone. "It's a truly beautiful gift. Thank you. I'll borrow some of Moira's needles again and see if I can turn it into something worthy." She held the yarn up to her cheeks. "One of those hooded cowls, maybe."

There was more. "I washed it in some herbs that help bring clarity and peace. I was hoping you'd find them comforting." Sophie pressed on, the rest weighing on her. "You've brought Adam such peace. I wanted to find a way to say thank you."

"There was no need for that." Cass's eyes were slightly wary now. "I was happy to play for him."

It was well past time for the hardest parts of what she'd come to say. "I know. And I want you to know I'm very grateful. I can't help the wish that lives in my heart that you could stay here in Fisher's Cove and play him to sleep every night. I'm his mama, and you make him so happy."

She smiled, wanting Cass to believe the next part as well. "I used to live in Colorado. Grew deep roots there, the kind that feel permanent. I came here every summer, and I know it broke Moira's heart a little every time I left."

"Why did you go?" The words were quiet, and spoken mostly to the yarn.

"I needed space and time." And other things more complicated. "My calling is herbs, and I knew it needed my complete attention for a while. I hid away in my house in Colorado and tried to learn everything there was to know." To get ready for her real calling, although she hadn't understood that then.

"They say you're the best."

Sophie squirmed. "They say that about Cassidy Farrell, too."

Eyes met in understanding. Focus and sacrifice. Being the best in a generation didn't come without a price.

Sophie paused, remembering the tearful partings at the end of each summer - and just how important it had been to go. "I know what it is to need to journey, as a woman and as a witch." And she knew what it was to finally come home - but that wasn't what she'd come to say. "I would never try to get in the way of that, not even for my son."

Cass's face crumpled. "I'll come back. And when I do, I'll play for him."

"I know." Hands reached for each other now, two friends who understood each other and the hurting of the other's heart. Sophie looked hard into green eyes that matched every shade in the yarn. "I wanted to say thank you for your gift. And only thank you. Don't let my wish be your burden."

Cass looked down at the yarn underneath their linked hands. And spoke so quietly the words were barely heard. "I'm not sure what to wish."

Sophie knew that part of the journey too. "Give it time. Not everything blooms quickly."

"Okay." Cass nodded slowly and released one hand to swipe at her tears. "Then maybe it's time