Free The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) by April Aasheim Page B

necessarily because of his name.

SEVEN
    Proud Mary

    I WOKE THE next morning, stiff from the sofa but happy I'd talked to my sisters. If we got rid of magick––all magick––perhaps we'd be rid of the curse. Creating a normal life was the first step in freeing me of my sickness. I felt better already, in fact.
    “It's hard to believe there's anything wrong with the world on a day like this,” I said to Montana as I put him in the sling draped across my chest. He wrestled me, kicking and squirming, but I finally won. “Ha, ha,” I teased, sticking out my tongue. He smiled and poked his own tongue out in mimicked response.
    Outside, we were greeted by a sky so blue it felt as if I'd stepped into a masterwork painting. Wildflowers bloomed along the sides of the house and in the backyard, and the entire world smelled of honeysuckle and lavender. There was a quiet coolness to the air that nearly required a sweater––a gentle reminder that summer didn't last and soon we'd all be bundled up again.
    Strolling around the property with my arms stretched wide, I embraced the sunshine and luxuriated in a new sense of freedom. “There's enough magic in the world without witches,” I said, performing a quick and klutzy spin which sent Montana into a fit of gasps and giggles.
    We passed the iron fence enclosing the garden. “You'll play here, one day,” I said, as we pushed through the rusty black gate. “When mommy's all better and not sweating like a cactus rancher, we'll come out here all the time.”
    We reached the stone bench and I removed him from his kangaroo pouch. A book lay open on the bench, the cover depicting a half-naked man with a full moon rising above him. One of Merry's romance novels. She’d been devouring them lately, outnumbering even Ruth Anne in her trips to the bookstore. I cast one quick glance at the shirtless model before pulling my gaze away. It was the closest thing I'd had to adult male contact in ages.
    “Mommy's a strong, independent woman. Mommy doesn't need a man.” I held my son out so that we faced each other. He cooed, stretching his flailing arms to grab my hair.
    “How can someone so dorky-looking be so cute?” I asked.
    You're such a dork, Shane.
    I had said that so many times, it became a term of endearment.
    I sighed deeply, shaking the thought away, and wandered to the swing set. I put Montana on my lap and we swayed, just enough to feel the air touch our cheeks. I was lost in memories of Shane, while my baby daydreamed about his last meal or his next. A rustling sound startled us and I quickly stood up.
    Something was rambling in the woods, very close by.
    Rabbits? Squirrels? Bears?
    Ghosts?
    “It's difficult for spirits to make noise,” I assured Montana, whose eyes followed the tree line to Juliana's headstone at the edge of the clearing. His small head craned forward as he balled up his tiny fists.
    The rustling continued, followed by the sound of twigs snapping. And then all noise abruptly stopped. “It's just a bird or a snake” I whispered, tightening my hold on my son. I moved in the direction of the noise, as quietly as I could.
    We stopped at the far edge of the garden along the iron fence. Juliana's headstone lay in quiet contemplation before us. There was nothing unusual or unsettling about it. In fact, the area emanated a sense of tranquility.
    I hadn't seen Juliana's spirit since our last encounter at Dip Stix, before giving birth. Maybe showing me Shane's marriage certificate had finally brought her peace.
    But why?
    Because she disliked men? It was rumored that her husband died under suspicious circumstances shortly after being caught with another woman. Was my dead grandmother a vigilante spirit who spent her eternity calling out two-timing men?
    My chest constricted. “Ghosts only have limited power,” I assured myself.
    Except when ghosts return for a specific reason.
    I couldn't think about that now. I was starting a new life, sans ghosts and magick.