The house looked worse than Pippa had expected.
As she limped toward the porch, dragging her boot cast along, it felt like a mirror to the first moment she’d seen the house. This is it? But it’s broken!
This time though, she wasn’t disappointed. Instead, she was shocked. Almost half the house had literally crumbled, taking the restored porch with it. The window in Allie’s bedroom was cracked—the walls of Allie’s bedroom were now rubble and dust, along with Lulu’s bedroom walls.
It was like Bear had taken his bulldozer to the place, using that vicious metal mouth on it to chew up the house.
“I survived that?” As she looked at what Bear had dug her out of, it suddenly seemed as if the magic might be real, at least a small bit of it. The house should have killed her, snuffed her out under all that rubble.
Instead, she’d survived. Not without a scratch, no, but she was doing pretty good all things considered. And Lulu, Tybalt, and Howie weren’t even touched.
“It’s crazy,” Lulu said softly. “I don’t know how Bear did it.”
Pippa didn’t know either. I have nightmares about finding you trapped under that house. She’d tried to call him this morning, but every call had gone straight to voice mail. Her next plan was to get Lulu to take her to the Fall West Ranch to see if he was there.
She wished she’d let him in last night. This morning it seemed wrong that she hadn’t even listened to him. Yes, Pippa still felt a bit silly she’d believed it was magic… but she was also incredibly, deeply touched. From the very first day, he’d been caring for her. Secretly and not so secretly.
It had been the painkillers, after all, and her emotional turmoil. At least some of it.
As she looked at the house and remembered everything he’d done for her and the gifts he’d left, she realized she couldn’t be angry at him about his deception. Not anymore. He’d made her believe in magic again, and wasn’t that miraculous?
Also, he was incredibly handy, and if she was going to build a farm, that would be extremely helpful. Only an idiot would let someone like him get away, and while Pippa might be cursed, she wasn’t dumb.
If only she could find him to tell him that and figure out where they went from here.
Con sniffed loudly, ruining Pippa’s romantic imaginings. “Is that gas? It smells like gas.”
“I shut off the propane last night.” Lulu had clearly answered that question more than once from Con. “It’s fine.”
“I don’t smell anything.” Allie reached for something in the dirt—one of the curtains Lulu had sewn for her bedroom. “Will we be able to get anything out of the house?”
“I contacted a construction company who specializes in these kinds of things.” Con wouldn’t look at Pippa as she said it. “They’ll be out sometime this week to give us an estimate.”
“Us?” Lulu swiveled toward Con. “You didn’t want this place.”
Pippa’s heart sank so fast it almost bounced off the floor. She understood why Lulu felt that way, but it felt wrong. No, Con hadn’t helped, had been sniffy and rude about the entire thing. And she’d been awful when she’d first arrived—Pippa’s memory wasn’t totally clear, but she did remember Con saying something about how had they let this happen—but Con was here now and trying to help. That had to count for something.
She thought of Sayer, so close but so far from his family. And Bear, who wanted to bring them all back together but didn’t know how. That kind of rift… Pippa didn’t want that for her sisters.
“Lulu.” Pippa put a hand on her sister’s arm, then wobbled on her crutches. In an instant, all three of them were grabbing for her. “It’s okay.” She shook them off. “I’m okay, and it’s good that Con is here now and helping. This place is for all of us. You know Dad would want that.”
“Mom too,” Allie said softly.
“Exactly. We’re going to come together as a family. I won’t allow for anything else. And since I’m injured, you have to do what I say.”
Pippa expected Lulu to laugh at that. Instead, her sister burst into tears.
“But the house is ruined! We’ll have to all leave and get rid of the goats and the chickens and the garden. And I really wanted sheep!” Lulu wailed at the top of her lungs, practically collapsing. And Pippa remembered that Lulu had been in the house too, had seen Pippa pulled out, had spent all night with her in the hospital.
She limped toward her sister, wishing she wasn’t so broken, but Con and Allie got to Lulu first, both of them wrapping her in their arms. Pippa watched with a tight throat, blinking away her own tears. If only Dad and Mom could see this.
They might have lost their home, they might have a family curse on their head, but in the important ways, the Crivelli sisters were doing all right.
“We’re not going to get rid of anything,” Pippa said over Lulu’s slowly fading sobs. “Maybe we can’t stay here, but there are other houses here. We’ll rent one, one that can fit all of us and our animals. No one gets left behind.”
Lulu looked up, her face a wreck of tears. “Can we do that?”
“Sure.” For once, Pippa wasn’t faking her bravado. “Annie will help us find a place. And there’s the money from the sale of this place—by rights, that’s ours.” She did fake the lightness in her tone, because it kind of broke her heart to think of abandoning this house. Even if it was a ruin. But if they could keep some of what they’d built here, that would be enough.
And maybe giving the house to the Fall West would help Bear repair his own family. Pippa wanted that for him almost as much as he wanted it himself.
“Yeah.” Lulu lifted her chin. “We could do that.”
“Con,” Pippa said with a quick glance at her, “you can come too. If you want.”
Con’s expression wavered, and for a second Pippa thought she might bust out crying. Clearly the invitation took Con by surprise. “I mean, I have a whole life in Palmdale. I can’t just leave all that.” But she didn’t sound as if she wanted to cling to it either.
“Of course,” Allie said. “But it would be nice to have you. I never would have thought to call a construction company about salvaging things.”
“Me either,” Pippa said.
Lulu didn’t say anything, but since she was still wiping her eyes, she probably couldn’t.
“I’ll think about it.” Con’s voice was light, like she’d already decided and she was happy with her choice. And was maybe dreaming about some chickens and goats of her own.
A quiet fell as they took in the house. A mournful one since they didn’t want to say goodbye to the house, but there was a strange sort of satisfaction too since they were at least all here together to say goodbye. That they got this moment at least.
And they would have more moments together after this, happier ones. The collapse of the house didn’t mean the collapse of them. They’d come together after losing everything, and they’d stick together now.
The morning was quiet, the wind making the trees sound as if they were breathing. There were some birds calling too—Pippa wished she knew the names of them. Something to look up in the future.
“Wait.” Pippa cocked her head. “Why aren’t the goats yelling? You said Annie hadn’t come to get them yet. Did you guys feed?”
They all shook their heads.
“I was going to after this,” Lulu said, gesturing to the house.
“Well, I’m going to check on the chicks. They must be so scared after spending the night in the coop.” Sadly, their warm, safe brooder was crushed underneath the house. But maybe they were big enough to be outside now. She’d have to check how many adult feathers they had.
“Pippa, I can do it,” Allie said, her brow creased with worry. “You shouldn’t—”
“The doctors said I should keep walking on it,” Pippa said. “And I want to see them. I missed them.”
She really missed Tybalt too, safe as he was at Annie’s house. Once she’d found Bear, she’d go over there and try to find Tybalt. Poor guy had probably found the deepest linen closet he could and buried himself, never to come out.
Howie though was probably asleep on the couch.
“If you’re sure,” Allie said.
“I am. Why don’t you help Lulu? And introduce Con to the goats?”
Con wrinkled her nose. “Don’t they smell?”
Allie spluttered indignantly. “No. They do not. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Pippa took one last look at the house that was supposed to be her shelter. Her salvation. The very last place she had to go.
It was gone now, and she was sad—and she’d probably always have nightmares about the wall falling on her—but she wasn’t as upset as she might have been. The house had saved her when she needed it. But everything wasn’t lost.
She went to go check on her chickens. They needed her.
Her leg dragged awkwardly, and the crutches made her armpits ache. Her ribs were so tender she was seriously considering not breathing for a bit, just for a break. And yet… it was good to be back here.
The chicks were chirping wildly before she even walked in. Like something was riling them up.
“Oh, poor babies,” she called. “I’m here. Probably so scared. But it’s okay. I’m here.”
The coop was dark, cobwebs wafting as she stirred the air. The chicks came racing toward her, beaks open in indignant cheeps. They were not happy about something. Probably upset that they’d missed their heat lamp all night.
Pippa bent to soothe them. A shadow detached from one corner of the coop.
She screamed.
Pippa stumbled backward, her broken foot giving way. One crutch slipped free, and the world lurched sickeningly.
She was going to fall.
“Christ.” Bear grabbed her elbow, reeling her back in. He reached for her waist once she was steady, as if he didn’t trust her to stay upright with only one of his hands on her.
Or maybe he really, really wanted to touch her.
Pippa pulled in a shaky breath. At her feet, the chicks were going crazy with fright, running from one corner to the other, little wings flapping uselessly. “Oh my God. You scared me.”
She leaned into his touch, the one steady thing she could always count on. She knew that now. He looked… well, wrecked, just like Lulu had said. The lines around his eyes were deeper, the ones around his mouth newly made, and his gaze was hollowed out.
But one corner of his mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile before he ruthlessly suppressed it.
“Are you all right? You should be sitting down. Is there any pain? Why the hell did your sisters let you run off like this?”
His scowl was so familiar, so beloved, Pippa wanted to laugh. Her angry Bear, upset because he thought she wasn’t being taken care of.
She lifted a hand, put it to his cheek. His stubble was rough, overgrown. Had he even gone home last night? Had he slept?
He closed his eyes like her touch was the sweetest agony. “Pippa. I’m so sorry.”
“For what? For giving me everything I needed, just in secret? For saving my life?”
He opened his eyes and swallowed hard. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. You were right to be upset.” He scowled again and started to move her toward the door. “You need to get off that foot.”
“The doctor said I needed to exercise it as much as I could.” She winced and grabbed her ribs. “Even if it hurts sometimes. Besides, I wanted to see my chickens. They’re my responsibility even if I’m hurt.”
“I came by to feed and check on them. Sorry I scared you.”
Which explained why the goats weren’t yelling—Bear had fed them. And now that she looked, the chicks had fresh food and water too.
Really, there was no way she could let him go now.
She reached for his hand, linked his fingers with hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you in last night, but my head was… messed up. And I had to think. About how to fix all this.”
He opened his mouth, but she shook her head to stop him. “Let me finish.”
He shut his mouth, his eyes gleaming. With his heavy stubble, he looked like a particularly sexy outlaw, ready to accept a kiss along with her purse.
“Now that the house is gone,” she said, “we can’t stay here. But we’re not leaving. I can’t give up the animals. And my sisters… we need to stay together. I realize that now. So we’ll rent a place. Here.” She chewed on her lip because Bear’s reaction was pretty muted. Like, he wasn’t reacting at all.
Wasn’t he happy?
“So,” she went on, “maybe you know of a good place? If you guys are still willing to buy the land, we could use the money for the rent and security deposit. I guess I should have thought of it earlier, but the house… well, it had memories. And I wanted to prove I could save it. And maybe myself.”
His expression softened. “Pippa. You don’t need that house to be whole. Even when life or the family curse or whatever you want to call it throws the worst at you, you rise up. You never give up. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”
Tears pricked at her eyes. She hastily brushed them away because she didn’t want to cry, not right now.
Bear lifted their joined hands, kissed her knuckles one by one. “It’s true,” he said. “I only helped a little bit. The rest was all you.”
“No. It was us, together. And I realized I might miss that most of all—the things we built here together. The morning hours we spent together.” Her voice caught, but those were precious memories and moments. “But we can do that again somewhere else. It doesn’t have to be here.”
“What if it does though?” His voice was gentle, so gentle she almost didn’t understand what he was saying.
“What do you mean?”
“I think this place was meant to be yours. That sometimes need outweighs everything.” He smoothed a curl away from her temple. “Even a legal contract. You and your sisters need this place. More than we do. So you should have it.”
Lovely words, so lovely she felt her heart strain as she absorbed them. “But… the legal contract is still there. And the house is gone. So…” Her brows drew together as she tried to understand.
His smile was wide, brilliant in the dark coop. At their feet, a chick peeped with delight. Probably she’d found a bug.
“But that’s all fixed.” He squeezed her hand. “I took Thorne to see Sayer last night. Made them make up.”
Her mouth fell open. He’d gotten Thorne to do that? “How?”
“I tied him up, dragged him to Sayer’s house. Threatened to tie up Sayer too if he didn’t apologize.”
It was so brilliant, exactly what she’d wanted for him. She grabbed for his shoulder, and because she couldn’t roll up on her toes, pulled him down for a laughing kiss. “They’re talking again? That’s amazing! Wonderful! I’m so happy for you.”
She could hardly believe he’d done it, solved everything in a single night. His brothers were so far apart it would have taken a miracle to bring them back together… but then again, Bear specialized in magic. So it made perfect sense too.
God, what a glorious person he was. She was so glad he’d come to threaten her with a tractor that morning.
“It wasn’t easy,” he said. “They’re both stubborn bastards.”
“But you’re more stubborn,” she said teasingly. “My goodness, you actually tied him up? He must have been so mad.” Pippa shivered as she imagined Thorne’s rage. He’d have been even more furious than he’d been when he’d found his mother’s sewing machine in their house.
“He was. But…” Bear’s expression shifted, went a bit uncertain. “I’m realizing maybe I should have talked to you first. But I came up with a plan. To save your house and the processing plant. We’d use some of your land”—he twisted, pointed to somewhere in the northeast corner—“those empty few acres there and some of Sayer’s land to build the plant and the roads and everything else. And you can use the money from the sale of that land to rebuild the house.”
She could only stare at him even though he was waiting for her response. His mouth went flat.
“Yeah, I should have told you first,” he muttered. “Didn’t learn anything from leaving you stuff in secret.”
Pippa held tight to his shoulder, pulled in a deep breath. “No, it’s… I needed a moment to take it all in. Yes, you should have told me before you did it, but I guess I made that kind of hard for you.” She exhaled, felt something in her loosen. Or rather, let go. “It’s perfect. Beyond what I could have dreamed of. I don’t… I can’t tell you how grateful I am. How much it means to me. To all of us.”
“You don’t have to. I know exactly how much it means to you. I’d do anything for you.” His lips brushed her right temple. Then her left. “I did it for me too. To bring my family back together.”
Pippa held tight to his hand, held tight to his shoulder, felt his breath gliding over her cheek, through her hair. Home.
Finally she was home. Here with him, no matter where that might be.
Even if it was a chicken coop.
“We have to get you out of here,” Bear said after a while. He didn’t let her go. “I don’t care what the doctor said. They didn’t mean walking into a chicken coop.”
This time she let him guide her to the door. “Are they okay? This was their first night outside. They’ve been out during the day, but I worried it would be too cold at night.”
“They’re fine,” he said. “I checked each one.”
She didn’t have to worry that he was humoring her. If he said he had, he had.
She turned slowly, stiffly toward the door, grateful for his arm to steady her. Her gaze swept over the shelves in the coop, landed on the little burlap bag.
She gasped. “Oh my God, I never showed you!” She started to hop over to the shelf. There was no way she was going to reach it with these crutches. “You have to grab it.”
Bear’s expression was pure skepticism, but he reached up on the shelf anyway. “What am I looking for?”
“A little burlap sack up there. I meant to tell you about it when I first found it, but then Sayer came by and I totally forgot. That’s it!”
He frowned down at the little bag in his hand. His lips pursed as he read the instructions. “Happy chickens? I don’t get it.”
“Sprinkle it around,” she said eagerly. “Just a little bit. Be sure to cluck. And you’ll see.”
He sighed heavily. Then he looked at her and smiled. “Okay.”
He did it all without hesitation, even clucking after like he was supposed to. Pippa held her breath.
The magic is real. I’ve seen it.
The chicks squawked, flapped their wings, ran all around.
And then they took flight. Like something out of a cartoon, they flitted around their faces, way too high up for a flightless bird. Held aloft by magic.
“Holy shit,” Bear breathed. The burlap bag fell from his hand. “How is this possible?”
“It’s magic,” Pippa said. “Real magic. I found it a while ago, just sitting in here. And it made the chicks fly.”
He laughed in wonder, the sound young, happy. “I can’t believe it. Real magic.”
It began to wear off though, the chicks slowly floating down to earth. The last one, the highest one, began to fall too fast. She was going to get hurt.
Bear caught her in his cupped hand, as easy as if he were catching dandelion fluff. His strong fingers curled gently over the little bird, holding her secure. Safe.
He did that so many times, rescued fragile things and held them so gently. And she realized something soul deep.
“I love you.” She said it flat out, quick but not too loud. She’d never meant anything so much in her entire life.
His smile flashed, bright and true, and he pulled her close, still holding the chick. “I love you too.”
She breathed into the crook of his neck, so warm, so safe, so perfectly made just for her. Now I really am home.