More Than Magic Read Online Free PDF Page B

which dangled on the peg under the Jewelweed label. The Mayapple was the furthest from the main house, which was where she would’ve preferred to put him, but its refrigerator had given up the ghost at some point this week and, although she wanted Mr. City Man to leave, she didn’t want to ruin the farm’s reputation to accomplish it.
    They would reopen the cabins soon. And they would start up production again. And then, as Daniel had said, she would get back to her life—her future plans. Everything would get back to normal around here and one unexpected guest was not going to derail her efforts to get there.
    No. She would simply be a very gracious and solicitous hostess, secretly hoping to scare off her guest. When she emerged from the mud room door, Pooka ran over and trotted beside her to the graveled parking area.
    “Yes boy, we have a guest. And your job is to make sure he stays up in his cabin or leaves in his car. I don’t want him wandering all over the place and getting underfoot. Or hiking off into the Pisgah and getting himself lost. Okay?”
    The dog cocked his head, then turned his attention back to the east. Grace waited for the confirming bleat of the proximity sensor at the entrance to cabin parking. Had the guy gotten lost on the farm road? If so, it didn’t bode well for the rest of his stay.
    She sat the basket down at the end of the cabin walkway and Pooka followed her up the hill into the trees. The road went through a huge meadow her grandfather had long ago christened Star Crossing. Pops had told her the new name was much more descriptive than the old Woodruff Meadow, since he often had to stop on the road to the house to let a few stars cross.
    Grace’s smile faded as a wisp of fog curled through the trees and around her feet. The smoky tendrils glided over the damp leaves with a sigh of sound.
    “There’s something wrong with our mountain, Gracie-girl. You’re the only one who’ll hear it too.”
    Grace’s breath caught in her throat as she emerged onto the edge of the silvery meadow and saw the lanky figure standing there in the grass, unmoving, gazing raptly up at the stars. He seemed barely tethered to the earth—poised to launch himself into the sky. She had the strangest feeling that if he opened those tightly clenched fists, he would fall upward.
    Apparently this was their unwanted guest—standing in the damp grass next to his SUV. It was surprising that he would stop to watch the stars cross. Most of their city visitors were so utterly earthbound that they had to be told to lie down in the grass before they noticed the majestic dance above them. Yet he stood there, as unmoving as a statue.
    Trish was right. It was clear even from here that he had just recovered from an illness of some kind. And it had left its mark—sculpting hollows on his face and leaving his clothes hanging a bit loose on his tall frame. His hair looked dull even under all that luminescence.
    She reviewed all the viruses, cuts and scrapes, and near-broken bones that she had dealt with up here over the last few months. She could manage something bigger. Especially since he had recovered from it. Whatever it was. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Control. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.
    Putting on her gloves, she slipped back into the trees and made her way gingerly down the hill. She certainly didn’t want their guest to spot her spying on him.
    By the time the dark SUV crested the hill and drove into the graveled lot, she was standing next to the basket at the end of the path up to the cabins.
    When he got out, the solar lights in the parking area and up the walkway didn’t reveal much more than she had already seen—tall, pale skin, short dark hair, slim build. He was almost gaunt, if what she could see of his face in the shadows was any indication.
    He lifted his hands in the air, eyeing the shotgun slung over her shoulder, but smiling in spite of it. “My receipt for a week’s