The Witch of Roan Mountain (10 page)

BOOK: The Witch of Roan Mountain
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EPILOGUE

 

 

The snow was falling softly, coating the trees with spun sugar in the soft light of the morning. They’d driven past the barriers that closed the road to traffic. Campbell was confident in his ability to drive the Explorer in any kind of weather. Maeve had never been to Roan Mountain in the snow. She’d always dreamed of seeing it blanketed in white and now, she was getting that chance.

Campbell backed the vehicle into a spot and killed the engine. “Ready to do this?”

Maeve nodded. She pulled down the wool beanie Granny had knitted for her and grabbed the candelabra. She’d polished it until it shone like new. “Ready.”

They sat on the bench and waited for Delphine. The snow fell quietly and it was beautiful to watch the tiny flakes float down into a smooth carpet. She held Campbell’s gloved hand in hers and watched the balsam tree. In her mind, she concentrated on the image of Delphine.

“You brought it,” Delphine said. “Can I hold it?”

Maeve rose slowly and walked toward her. “We found the note and I talked to a judge for you. He’s overturned your conviction.”

Delphine took the candelabra in her hand and Maeve felt the whisper of a touch. “I’m no longer convicted?”

Maeve shook her head. “The Court recognizes their error. Your record is clear.”

The woman smiled. It was peaceful, serene. While the snow piled up on the arms of the candelabra, none of it touched Delphine’s hair or her dress. She looked over Maeve’s shoulder. “Campbell,” she said.

He rose, his eyes wide.

“Take care of this. It belonged to my mother and it should stay in the family.” She held the silver piece out to him and he walked toward it. “Take care of her, too.”

“I will,” he said. He reached out and took the family heirloom.

Maeve wished she could hug Delphine, show her how much her story had changed her life. “Thank you, Delphine, for choosing me.”

The ghost smiled. “Thank you for not giving up. I’m ready to go now,” she said, turning to look out over the snow-covered mountains. “It’s time.”

Maeve and Campbell watched as Delphine faded, like a photo exposed to too much sun, layer upon layer of detail disappearing into a gauzy mist. When she was gone, Campbell turned to Maeve. “You did an important thing.”

She looked up at him, his green eyes twinkling the in blue-white light. “I love you, Campbell.”

“I love you, too,” he said and kissed her forehead. “Will you make sure this candelabra goes to our first daughter?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Yes!” She placed her palms on his cheeks and kissed him.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 

 

Erin Hayes:  Without you I would have never finished this book. That’s the honest truth. Until you and I started sprints, I was convinced I was going to have to bow out of this collection. You encouraged, supported and forced me to keep my fingers on the keyboard every single night until I had something. I adore you and your work. Thanks for being such dependable week-night date. Let’s do that again soon.

My beta readers: Y’all took something that was pretty rough and gave me great suggestions. This wouldn’t be the same book without each of you.

Chief: Thanks for the Civil War brainstorming session. You’ll never know how much I appreciate your timing. It was spot-on.

BICers: Y’all are the real deal. I admire each of you for your smarts, your compassionate hearts and your kick-ass production schedule.

Mama: Thanks for keeping the food warm and the iced tea cold. Again. You’re right, ghosts never move UNDER doors.

Dorinda: You always make me laugh when the world gets too crazy.

And to the man who once told me I had the heart of a lion, I will always be grateful.

Once again, I’m the most blessed girl in the whole world.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

Blaire Edens lives in the mountains of North Carolina right down the road from a farm that’s been in her family since 1790. When she’s not plotting, she’s busy knitting, running, or listening to th
e
Blues. Blaire loves iced tea with mint, hand-stitched quilts, and yarn stores. She refuses to eat anything that mixes chocolate and peanut butter or apple and cinnamon. She’s generally nice to her mother, tries to remember not to smack her bubble gum, and only speeds when no one’s looking.

An award-winning author, she’s an active member of Romance Writers of America and previously served as the President of South Carolina Writers Workshop.

 

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