A Celtic Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,83

right his capsized soul. He wished he could blame the shiny purple fairy playing a violin on his girl.

But it had been his fingers that had reached for the utter silliness. And his heart, run through by a trinket, that had known it was time to come home.

To apologize. To beg. To hope that the ridiculous bit of shiny glass Morgan had cradled the whole way back would somehow begin to mend the damage.

He held his daughter as gently as she held the musical fairy and tipped his face down into her fuzzy hair. Wishing.

Cassidy Farrell had an enormous heart. He could only pray it was big enough.

Feet heavy, he walked up the stairs. Morgan nestled into his chest, silent and watchful. The most important walk of his life.

He made it almost all the way to the top before he knew.

She wasn't here anymore.

Frantic, he lunged the last few steps to her room and pushed open the door.

Empty.

He stared at the vacant space, the vibrations of Cassidy Farrell already seeping away. And felt his hope seep along with it.

Marcus stood in frozen despair, the gray finality of the empty room soaking into every atom.

And heard, of all things, the voice of a ten-year-old girl in his head - strong and clear and staring down the battlements of Realm. Are you going to kiss her? If you want to, you should. Mama says she first wanted to kiss Dad behind server number three, but she didn't, and she's always regretted it.

He teetered, speechless.

And felt his atoms launch a rebellion.

He didn't want a life with any more regrets. For reasons he couldn't begin to fathom, Marcus Buchanan was ready to fight for what he wanted.

And he knew where she'd gone. Anyone born in Nova Scotia knew of the place Cass nestled in the happiest part of her mind.

The one not so very different from here.

Crazed hope began a drumbeat in his chest.

He would remember later that Morgan made nary a peep on their hell-bent run across the village, the little fairy still clutched in her mitten. And that daffodils had pushed up through the earth as they'd run. Yellow bits of color, cheering his haste.

Faster.

Marcus thundered into his aunt's house, ignoring the other women of the village seated at her kitchen table. "Can you watch Morgan?" Reality slammed into his chest. "I might not be back until tomorrow." He set his girl down, arms suddenly weak.

Pleasure snapped from her mind. "For as long as it takes, dear one." She reached for his hands, their growing frailty a lie. She was the strongest person he knew.

He drank from what she offered him - and then pulled her in for an awkward hug. "You've always been the best part of me."

She put her hands on his cheeks, over-bright eyes drilling into his. "Go."

Doubt assailed him one last time. "Am I doing the right thing?"

"Yes."

Marcus spun - and then spun back. "Is she the one to do it for?"

His aunt's voice never wavered. "I don't know yet if she deserves you. I know only that she might."

That would have to be enough. His brain spun crazily, loose cogs suddenly without a wheel. "There's food for Morgan in my fridge. Lizzie knows what she likes to eat best. And her blankie is at the inn under the blue sofa - Sean or Kevin could fetch it for you. It has to be her purple one, she won't sleep with anything else."

"Hush now." He was being herded to the door. "The day has not yet come that I can't take care of one small girl."

He knew that. He just wasn't sure the day had come when he could leave her.

A firm hand pushed at the square of his back. "Go. You've a right to know your own heart. And hers. Morgan will be fine."

She would be. He wasn't nearly so sure about himself.

As he bolted for his car, chased by demons, wishes, and pounding need, he heard more of Warrior Girl's words in his head. It's not what's strongest that matters. It's what's most surprising.

His laughter hiccupped out around the strain. Gaming advice was a hell of a way to run a life.

But for a man who'd barely had a life, it was all that he had. It would have to do.
Chapter 21
Dave had taken one look at Cass's face and tucked her into a remote corner of The Barn with Rosie and a heaping plate of French toast.

Ellie Brennan had shown up ten minutes later, out