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Heart of the Wood

By: LesLumens



This is my entry in the Literotica.Com 2011 Earth Day Contest © Copyright Les Lumens 2011

The final page is just my ending note, so don't let the number of pages scare you away.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Twigs and dry leaves crunched underfoot as Glen wandered the trail, his thoughts turned inward. The warmth that permeated the sun-dappled wood prompted him to absently remove his jacket, and the action brought him out of his internal dialogue just long enough to notice something on the breeze.

Taking a deep breath, he filled his lungs with the scent of moist earth and honeysuckle. The flowers wouldn't bloom for months anywhere else, but here they opened their petals even before the last frost. Winter came to the wood, as it did everywhere else, but here, other forces were at play.

The distraction didn't last long, though. After running his fingers through his short blond hair, he resumed his walk. The spring semester had proven a little difficult — especially the foreign language requirement — forcing him to concentrate hard on the Spanish course. Now that he finally felt confident in the class, he had time to wonder where he was going with his life again.

Only the slightest rustling of leaves betrayed the presence of someone trailing along behind him, easily dismissed as the wind or the abundant wildlife. So, when he sat down on a fallen log and arms suddenly wrapped around his neck from behind, Glen naturally started.

A musical giggle preceded a kiss on his ear, and Glen let out the breath he'd sucked in as a relived sigh. Most would have descended into a new wave of panic upon turning around, but Glen's upbringing was hardly common.

Completely nude, the dryad stood with her nose scrunched up in a mischievous expression. Her skin had a golden tone, as though lit from within by sunlight. The hair rustling about her shoulders in the breeze was the color of new leaves.

"Geez, Grandma. You about scared the pants off me."

"I couldn't scare them off if you weren't wearing them," Xantina countered, sticking her tongue out at her great-grandson. The nymph had a strong prejudice against clothing, and the family usually indulged the ultimate mother of their line. Having grown up as much in the wood as at home, nudity was more natural to him than putting on clothes.

Taking stock of his surroundings, he realized where he was in the wood after his directionless wandering of the paths. Once confined to the section of the wood where she lived around a spring-fed pool, the dryad had taken to wandering farther as her magic grew stronger with each new generation's efforts to protect and nurture the local woodlands.

"So, what are you doing all the way out here, Grandma?"

Xantina pointed off to the side. "There is someone there."

Glen shifted on the log and turned in the direction she was pointing, but didn't see anyone. He knew that the road lay just beyond sight, and so asked, "Up by the road?"

Only a fading giggle answered his question, and when he turned back around, his capricious great-grandmother had vanished into the wood.

Not really getting anywhere with his musing about the future, and made curious by the dryad's game, Glen stood up and stretched. He pulled on his jacket as he wended his way through the trees, knowing at least one thing that awaited outside the sheltering boughs.

Flashes of green quite unlike the color of the evergreens around him caught his eye through the branches. As the true chill of March weather reasserted itself over the magical warmth of the wood, he realized that what he had seen was a car sitting off the side of the road. Quickening his pace, he negotiated the last of the trees in his path and went to see if the driver of the VW Beetle was still around and needed any help.

The windows were fogged up, but he could just make out the silhouette of someone in the driver's seat. Climbing up onto the road bank gave him a clearer picture of a woman with her forehead resting on the steering wheel.

She didn't seem to notice him when he walked up next to the door, so he tapped the glass with a fingernail.

The redhead sat up and turned toward him with a start, a muffled yelp of alarm reaching Glen from behind the closed door. After a moment to catch her breath, she reached over as if to roll down the window, but then made a face and opened the door instead.

Damn, Glen thought as he got a good look at her. Shoulder-length red hair framed a beautiful face, complete with green eyes. He guessed that she was in her mid-twenties, and she certainly filled out her blouse. Glen took care not to get caught staring — because he certainly wanted to.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he apologized. "Need some help?"

Her expression somewhere between caution and relief, the woman nodded. "It just died, and I can't get a signal on my phone."

"That happens out here. Too many obstructions, and too few towers." He pulled out his own cell to find a couple of bars. "Mine's working. Why don't you try to turn it over real quick before I call my dad?"

After a brief nod, the redhead turned the key, which resulted in little more than a click.

Having seen none of the lights on the dashboard illuminate, Glen said, "Looks like your battery's toast. We might actually have one at the house. My sister had a Beetle. We live right up the road. Name's Glen Rush."

The redhead's eyes lit up. "Are you related to Steven Rush?"

"That's my dad. You know him?"

"I'm supposed to be meeting with him. Melinda Hart."

"Looks like the meeting place has changed," Glen said, and then laughed as he called the house.

"Hey, Dad. Your meeting is going to be a little delayed. I've got Melinda stranded a ways up the road toward town."

His father answered, "I was beginning to wonder. What's wrong with the car?"

"Battery's dead, I think. We still have a battery for Sis' Beetle?"

"I believe so. Why?"

"That's what she has. Might be able to get it to the house without a tow that way."

"I'll put it in the car, then. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

"Got it. Bye."

Glen ended the call and told Melinda, "He's on his way. I've got a friend who works on cars. I'm going to text him and have him head out this way, just in case."

"Thank you," Melinda answered, shivering a bit in the wind.

"No problem. May as well shut the door and keep out the wind until Dad gets here."

While Melinda did exactly that, Glen tapped away on his phone. By the time the reply came back, his father was coming over the hill from the house.

"That's him," Glen said loudly enough for her to hear through the closed door, and then put his phone away.

"Battery's in the trunk," Steven said after pulling off the road behind Melinda's car.

"Got it," Glen acknowledged. At about the same time as he leaned into his father's car to pop the trunk, Melinda opened her door.

"Well, this isn't exactly going as planned," Steven said to her with a little laughter in his voice. "Steven Rush — and you must be Melinda."

Her greeting his father gave Glen the opportunity to get a good look at Melinda, and he liked what he saw. She was wearing jeans, showing off curves that perfectly complemented the swell of her breasts that he'd seen earlier. Some few women had a way of moving — or even standing still — that screamed sensuality, and Melinda had that in spades.

She and his father turned toward the car, and Glen spun around just in time. He walked to the trunk to retrieve the battery and heard his father say, "Go ahead and get in out of the cold. Just move those papers to the back seat."

Glen closed the trunk to see Melinda leaning into the car, giving him a fine view of her butt. He smiled at the sight, but wiped the grin off his face when he turned to see his father's expression, which let him know that his look at Melinda hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Let's get the battery in and see if that works," Steven said, nodding toward the other car.

Glen gestured up the road. "Go ahead. Frank's headed this way. If this doesn't work, he'll run me back to the house."

Nodding his approval, Steven opened the door. "Just call if you need anything."

"Sure," Glen responded, and then walked past to Melinda's car.

In the process of unhooking the first battery cable, Glen paused for one last look at Melinda as the car rolled past, toward home. He'd always had a thing for redheads, and she was about the hottest one he'd ever seen.

Wonder if she's into younger guys?

He hoped that her connection to his father might just give him the opportunity to find out.

The battery swap worked to get the car started right after Frank arrived, and the two friends drove back to Glen's house. Unfortunately, the verdict Frank delivered wasn't such good news.

Conversation stopped as soon as he walked in, and Glen distinctly heard the couch cushions creak when Melinda turned around.

"Alternator's dead."

"Oh no," Melinda groaned, covering her eyes for a moment.

"And the parts store is closed, so he won't be able to get it in until tomorrow," Glen continued.

"Do you know how much?" Melinda asked with trepidation in her voice.

"Just whatever the parts cost. Frank owes me one."

"Oh, I couldn't do that," Melinda protested.

Before Glen could argue, his mother, Kia, jumped in. "Yes you can. It's the neighborly thing to do, and we won't take no for an answer."

"Is everyone around here this nice?" Melinda asked after a moment of consideration.

Kia put on an exaggerated expression of concentration, and then answered, "No — just us."

The two women broke out into simultaneous laughter.

Seeing an opportunity, Glen suggested, "I could run you home, and then bring you back over when the car's done tomorrow."

In his peripheral vision, he could see his mother eyeing him with suspicion. He expected her to say that she would do the driving, but she surprised him. "That solves that problem, if it's okay with you, Melinda."

"That's fine." She then turned to Glen and said, "I never did say thank you."

Glen waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "No problem."

"You're quite welcome, and you're welcome to stop by any time," Kia added.

"I suppose I should get home, then," Melinda said, gathering up her purse.

Glen's father returned from making a phone call in the other room. "The ball is rolling on my end, and Dan's already optimistic about the vote in the council. I don't see any reason why you can't be ready to open up in a month — two at the outside."

"It's overwhelming," Melinda said as she stood. "I never expected things to happen so fast."

"Well, you're not in it alone any more," Steve assured her. "If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask. We think a green cemetery is a wonderful idea, and we'll do whatever it takes to make it a reality."

That explained his parents' interest in the redhead. Quite the opposite of a regular cemetery that ate up land and pushed away the natural flora and fauna, those buried in a green cemetery actually nourished the earth that covered them. It was exactly the sort of cause that his dryad-born family would throw themselves into, heart and soul.

"Thank you all so much," Melinda said, and then turned toward Glen.

"Ready when you are."

After farewells from his parents, he led her out the door.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Melinda closed the door behind her, still amazed by the whirlwind of events that had transpired in a single day. She peeked out the window, watching Glen drive away, and found her thoughts straying toward the handsome young man.

Realizing what she was doing, she let the curtain fall and turned away from the window. Her last several relationships had all gone badly, and she hadn't even made an attempt in two years. It always ended the same. As soon as a man found out that she practiced Wicca, she never heard from him again.

Having grown up in the craft, she knew that she shouldn't attach such restrictions to her desires, which were perfectly natural. The world outside her mother's coven had intruded into her heart in this one place, at least.

She needed peace and clarity — and to contemplate the blessings that had fallen upon her today. Reaching into the inside pocket of her jacket, she withdrew the package she'd picked up in town before going to her meeting. The incense had arrived just in time, because she'd burned the last stick that morning.

Dropping her purse and jacket onto the couch, she made her way through the house to the sunroom at the back, opening the package along the way. The setting sun bathed the room in a beautiful glow through stained glass windows, while panes of clear glass gave her a view of the trees beyond.

Melinda removed her clothes and knelt — now Skyclad, as the traditions of her mother's coven had taught her — before the altar.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Glen joked with Frank and helped where he could as his friend worked on Melinda's car. They almost had the old alternator out when the phone rang. With his mother off on a veterinary call and his father in town, he was the only one home. A couple of quick steps brought him to the phone sitting on a shelf in the garage. Seeing Melinda's number brought a smile to his lips.

"Hey."

"Hello. I was wondering when the car is going to be ready?"

He turned the phone away from his mouth and asked, "How much longer?"

"About an hour."

Glen repeated the answer for Melinda and she let out a quiet — but still audible — groan.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I need to go in to work for a few minutes."

"No problem. I'll take you."

After a moment of hesitation, she responded, "If you wouldn't mind. Someone's making a last minute change, and I need to enter everything in the computer."

"Like I said — no problem. Headed out the door now."

As soon as Glen hung up, Frank chuckled. "This chick must be a real code eighty-eight."

The semi-secret code word from his days working at the grocery store, which meant that an attractive woman was in the building, brought a wide smile to Glen's face.

"Oh yeah," he agreed as he headed for his car.

Melinda opened her front door almost as soon as Glen rolled to a stop in her drive. She was wearing a skirt that showed off gorgeous legs, culminating in a pair of short, black heels. Gripping her skirt in one hand against the gusting wind, she hurried to the car. Glen was almost positive that she was blushing when she sat down in the passenger seat, which he considered a good sign.

"Guess I better ask where we're going," he said as he put the car in gear.

"The funeral home," she answered.

Thinking that he should have guessed that, considering what she was talking to his father about the evening before, he said, "Ah, okay. No need to drive through town then."

Melinda nodded and settled into the seat as the car rolled out of the drive.

Though he made a couple of attempts at conversation, it didn't take long to determine that she was preoccupied with something. Wisely not pushing the issue, he drove to the funeral home and pulled into the nearly empty parking lot.

"Do you want to call me to pick you up, or should I just wait?"

"I should only be a few minutes, if you don't mind waiting?"

"That's cool. Frank will probably have your car ready by the time we get back."

Melinda offered a smile. "Thank you. I'll try not to be too long."

Though the weather was still on the cool side, the sun was shining bright, and quickly warmed the interior of the car. Glen kicked back in his seat and half-dozed, replaying the image of Melinda walking toward the building in his head — her hair and skirt fluttering in the breeze.

The sound of the door opening snapped him out of his pleasant reverie not long after, and he stretched, straightening in the seat. Melinda sat down, letting out a groan, and massaged her temples.

"You okay?" he asked before starting the car.

She shrugged and gave a little nod. "I just didn't sleep very well, and I only had decaf in the house."

Jumping on the opportunity, he said, "Well, you're in luck. Best coffee in town is just down the street. My treat."

The redhead stiffened, and Glen was sure that she was going to make an excuse to refuse the offer. Even as he was thinking of a way to smooth things over, she surprised him.

"Okay. Thanks."

"All right then," he said as he started the car, somehow resisting the urge to do a victorious fist pump.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Melinda took another sip of coffee and thought, What are you doing? She had no idea what had overruled her defensive instincts when she accepted Glen's offer. Yet, here she was.

Though determined to keep things simple, Glen had asked how his father was helping her. An offhand remark expanded the conversation into a wider arena of environmentalism.

Though he attributed the activity to his family, he spoke of conservation and promotion of green solutions with such passion that she knew he was hardly divorced from such concerns himself. Like her, he felt the umbrella of global climate change was doing more harm than good by creating divisiveness where a lot of consensus could be found on contributing issues. The chat came full circle in time, returning to green cemeteries.

After Glen returned with two fresh cups of coffee, he remarked, "Never would have guessed that you work at the funeral home."

She nodded, letting out a half-hearted chuckle. "Creepy, huh?"

"Nah. Don't know if I could do it, but there's nothing creepy about it."

That was a surprise.

"Guess that's how you got the idea for the green cemetery, huh?"

"The other way around, really. The cemetery was always my mother's dream, and that's how I ended up in college for funeral services."

"Bet she's tickled that you're so close now."

She sighed. "She passed away not long after I graduated."

He winced and said, "I'm sorry."

Giving a slight shake of her head, Melinda said, "It's okay. You didn't know. Learning to deal with losing her has sort of helped me help others."

"I guess it would." He pointed and asked, "That's a Celtic cross, isn't it?"

She realized that she was absently toying with her necklace and let go of it to grab her coffee again. "Yes. My mother gave it to me."

"It looks good on you. My sister got big into that. Celtic lore, Druidism, Wicca — stuff like that. She talked about it so much that I ended up doing a paper on it in high school."

Melinda's heart leapt in her chest, but she was wise enough not to let it overwhelm her. "So, you weren't worried she was turning into a witch?"

He laughed, and there was nothing of mockery in the sound. "Nah. You know, it's about nature, not broomsticks and black magic." He wiggled his fingers in an exaggerated pantomime of spell casting. "Not that she can't be a witch sometimes.

"I actually went and talked to some members of a coven in the city while I was working on that paper. They were a little leery of me at first, but I guess they decided I wasn't out to get them, and I learned some pretty cool stuff. Got an A on that one."

It was only when Glen's eyebrows twitched upwards for a moment that Melinda realized she was staring at him, grinning so wide that her cheeks hurt. Those same cheeks grew warm as she lifted her cup to cover her embarrassment. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Any time."

She'd stood on this precipice many a time before, and she knew all too well how hard and painful the rocks were at the bottom. There was a glimmer of hope. He'd recognized her necklace. He knew what it could represent, and he didn't seem afraid of it. Quite the opposite, actually.

Maybe this time could be different.


Heart of the Wood



♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Encouraged by the way Melinda had opened up at the coffee shop, Glen hoped to keep the ball rolling. He had the perfect way to go about it, as well.

Lying on the bed, he dialed her number, and she picked up on the second ring. "Hey, it's Glen. I just wanted to make sure that the car's doing okay."

"Oh, yes. It's fine. I appreciate it."

"No problem. Feeling better this morning?" Glen asked, having stopped so she could buy some real coffee before returning home the previous day.

"Much," she replied, and chuckled. "I won't make that mistake again."

Glad you did, he thought. "I completely forgot about it yesterday. I was going to ask you if you'd been to Geraldine's yet?"

"Where?"

"It's this restaurant a little way up the highway from you. Kind of a local secret. Why don't you let me take you there for lunch? I already showed you where the best coffee in town is. Let me introduce you to the best food in town, too."

"I'd like that."

This time, he did clench his fist in celebration.

"How about in an hour?"

"That sounds good."

"See you then. Bye."

Thinking that he should probably play it safe, Glen dressed as he usually would, but chose his newest pair of brand name jeans and a nice t-shirt with no slogans. A quick look in the mirror confirmed what he wanted to project. If he was too dressed up, it might make her nervous, and she'd already proven a bit skittish. The slightly more clean-cut than usual look did say that he was trying to make an impression, though.

Satisfied, he headed down the stairs to give the carpet and seats in the car a once-over with the dust-buster, and to wipe down the dash. The timing worked out perfectly, and he rolled out of the drive shortly thereafter.

The weather had warmed significantly from the previous couple of days, which he took as a good omen. That optimism lasted right up until the moment when Melinda answered the door.

The smile he wore faded when he saw the haunted look in her green eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I..." She closed her eyes and sighed. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing. You look like you've seen a ghost."

She shrugged and rolled her eyes, but her voice wavered as she answered, "It's just this letter. I forgot to check the mail yesterday, so I went out to the mailbox right after you called."

"A bill or something?"

She shook her head and reached down next to the door, retrieving an envelope. "I don't even want to open this one."

Glen glanced down at the envelope, and his eyes fixed on the address label — one he knew all too well.

Francine Robinson was a local church busybody who had often stood in opposition to causes Glen's family supported over the years. One incident in particular brought his blood to a barely controlled boil, though. Her meddling had convinced his first girlfriend's parents to not only keep them apart, but also to move so she would be in a different school. His parents had eventually explained that the woman believed his family was dabbling in the occult.

This just got real personal. Mastering his anger, Glen asked, "Did you say, this one? There's more?"

"This is the third one," she answered while gesturing with the letter.

"What are they about?"

"All sorts of reasons why I shouldn't be able to have the cemetery here."

"Do you mind if I open that one?"

Looking a little perplexed, she said, "Okay," and handed over the letter.

A brief skim was all he needed. The letter listed a number of reasons why Francine and other concerned citizens opposed the green cemetery. The complaints ranged from water contamination to pagan rituals inconsistent with community values. 

"I know we were supposed to go to lunch, but I doubt you're in the mood now, and we should show this to my dad — as soon as possible."

"Really? Do you think it's important?"

"For one thing, this is harassment," Glen said, and then slapped his fingers against the paper. "She's not going to stop with writing letters, either. Dad and Uncle Dan need to know that she has her nose in this, so they can be ready for her."

"I still have the other two."

"You should grab them. Dad will probably want to talk to you, if you're up to it."

"I guess so."

"Don't worry, Dad will take care of this. Nosey Robinson is always pushing like this, and he knows who to call. You won't get any more of these, at least."

She gave a half-hearted smile, "That would be a relief."

"She acts like she's talking for everybody, but don't believe her, okay?"

Her smile widening, Melinda said, "Okay."

Glen grinned as well. "Grab those other two letters, and let's go take care of this."

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

The house had broken out into a whirlwind of activity as soon as Glen showed his father the letters. Once his mother had finished speaking with his uncle, Glen asked her to make some sandwiches, and then returned to where he'd left Melinda admiring a collection of nymph and animal statuettes.

"Got Mom making us a little something to eat. I know my stomach was growling."

"Mine too," Melinda agreed, her eyes bright and a crooked grin on her face. She pointed at a clay sculpture occupying the center shelf of the curio cabinet and said, "That one's interesting."

Glen's face started burning and he let out a nervous chuckle. He'd made the sculpture for his mother, as the words for mom from Glen scratched into the base openly declared. Bunnies and flowers hardly conveyed a macho image.

"Yeah. I made that for Mom for Mother's Day one year."

She glanced at the statuette again and asked, "In art class?"

"Nah. Mom makes all animal dishes for the clinic herself, so I snuck some clay and made it for her, then had Dad put it in the kiln."

"That's sweet," Melinda said, and then pointed at a picture hanging on the wall nearby. "Is that you?"

The picture was of him sitting on the bank of the pond with his feet dangling in the water when he was around five. "Yeah, that's me," he answered, grateful for the change in subject away from the embarrassing knick-knack.

"It's a beautiful spot. That's an elm, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"I've never actually seen one, except in pictures. Dutch Elm has wiped out so many."

"Want to?"

Her expression betrayed interest when she asked, "Where is it?"

"The pond is just a couple of minutes through the woods."

Glen's mother walked in the room with the sandwiches and two oft-refilled water bottles. "Here you go."

Jumping on the chance to take the redhead somewhere private that she'd already said was beautiful, Glen asked, "Want to take these down to the pond? Get away for a few minutes and relax? Not much we can do other than get in the way at this point, anyway."

She nodded, and Glen turned to take the sandwiches from his mother. The faintest hints of a knowing smile on Kia's face surprised him, after the suspicion he'd seen in her eyes before.

Glen led the way through the house and across the yard, taking a bite of his sandwich along the way. The pine boughs closed in around them, alive with the sound of birds. Melinda looked up as she walked, watching the avian dwellers zipping from tree to tree.

"Watch out for the chipmunks. Little jet-squirrels will rob you blind if you turn your back on them, Glen said, and then chuckled as he pointed out the fork in the trail that led to the pond.

She shook her head and grinned, still admiring the sights along the trail. "I swear I keep smelling honeysuckle, but it's too early for that, isn't it?"

"It comes up early around here in places," Glen explained, glossing over the magical nature of the wood. He then pointed ahead and said, "We'll have to push through the branches up there where the trail looks like it vanishes."

Upon reaching the spot, Glen held back the natural privacy fence as best he could, and let her step into the clearing first.

Silvery sparkles reflected off the surface of the pond, mirroring the sparkle in Melinda's eyes when she turned to him for a moment, before heading straight across the grass toward the elm. Glen followed, his eyes drawn to her bottom and the hypnotizing sway of her hips.

"It seems out of place, but then again, it doesn't," she remarked as she looked up into the tree.

"My uncle had it transplanted here when he was a kid. It was going to get cut down, and he talked Grandma and Grandpa into it." He sat down near the elm. "It's really his spot more than anybody else's."

She took a seat as well. "Hope he doesn't mind us borrowing it."

"Nah, he's busy all the time, so someone has to keep her company besides the squirrels and birds."

Glen settled in and ate, a familiar feeling washing over him. The sound of the water lapping against the shore and the leaves rustling overhead was soothing — almost hypnotic. Though birdsong could still be heard, it was subdued in the clearing around the elm. The sun shone down warm and bright, moderated by breezes heavy with the perfume of nature.

"This was a good idea," Melinda said after drinking in the sunlight and the scenery for a few minutes. "Those letters almost made me sick at my stomach, but I already feel better."

"I come out here when I need to think. It's far enough away from everything to let you clear your head."

Just then, something bounced off the top of his head. "Ow," he muttered and picked up the acorn, which certainly shouldn't have fallen from an elm tree.

She reached over and took the acorn with a little laugh. She looked up in the tree and said, "Must be a squirrel up there somewhere. Either that, or you have a dryad in the woods, playing tricks."

The water he was drinking went down the wrong way, and he broke out into a coughing fit.

"Are you okay?"

Still fighting off coughs, he nodded. "Yeah, just went down the wrong pipe." Once he caught his breath, he asked, "So, do you believe in stuff like that?"

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "I don't know. Mom always did, but, you know..."

"People think you're cuckoo," he finished; smiling wide to show that he didn't share that sentiment.

"Yeah," she agreed, and then laughed. "It's nice to think that there's a little magic in the world, even if you never actually see it."

"One of the women in the coven said that magic is always around us, but it's subtle, and most people overlook it."

"My mom used to say something like that, too. So, what about you?"

Their eyes met, and entranced by the green orbs, Glen answered, "Yeah, I believe in magic."

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Melinda closed the door behind her after a final wave to Glen as he pulled away. She leaned up against the door, letting out blissful moan.

Time had slipped away unnoticed as she sat with him in the shade of the elm. Since he already knew her plan for the future, she'd asked him about his. He was in much the same place as she had found herself when she was sixteen. Part of her had gravitated toward following in her mother's footsteps, but another part wanted to be free — to find her own identity.

In the end, she'd decided that following her mother's path was her true desire. Glen hadn't made that decision yet, but the way he spoke with understanding and reverence of the law hinted that he might very well mirror her choice.

Only the sight of the sun dipping toward the western horizon coaxed them to return to the house, where dinner awaited. Somehow, eating with his family hadn't felt awkward in the slightest. There was something about Kia that reminded Melinda of her mother, and Steven's good humor contrasted greatly with her image of a lawyer in his off hours. The two were obviously still deeply in love, despite years of marriage, turning her thoughts toward whether another potential lawyer might not take after his father.

The urge to kiss Glen when he pulled up in front of the house had quite nearly overwhelmed her. Undeniably attracted to him physically, she felt more of an emotional attachment with every moment they spent together. The thought that her work and his college classes would prove a barrier to spending time together was more than a little frustrating.

Find your center, Melinda, she cautioned herself. Though she was feeling light-hearted — almost giddy — she knew better than to charge forward on nothing more than emotion. That thought drew her toward the sunroom and her altar, where she always felt the most balanced and in control.

Upon crossing the threshold into the sunroom, an odd — but far from unpleasant — sensation settled upon her. For just a moment, she felt as if she had stepped outside into a warm spring morning. The scent of sun-kissed earth and flowers teased her. She could almost hear songbirds welcoming a new day. The numerous plants in the room seemed larger and more vibrant than she remembered when she watered them that morning.

As quickly as it had arisen, the feeling faded. It didn't completely go away, though. She could almost hear her mother saying that this was the magic of the world, just as Glen had earlier in the day.

In the midst of popping open the top button of her blouse, a hint of movement caught her eye beyond the double doors leading out into the yard, and the woods beyond. Bemused by the sight of the squirrel sitting right outside the doors looking in, she crept across the room.

Remarkably, the squirrel didn't run away as she approached, though it could obviously see her, as it tracked her progress. Kneeling down when she reached the door, she slowly extended a finger to the glass. The squirrel actually leaned in and appeared to be sniffing when her fingertip pressed against the window, and then it let out a chittering sound and scurried a few feet across the grass.

Melinda stood, and on a whim, opened the door. Once again, the animal turned and slithered through the grass for a few feet before turning to rise up and look at her — almost as if it was beckoning her to follow.

Follow she did, and her small guide continued the pattern of hurrying forward, then pausing to let her catch up, all the way to the edge of the woods. As she walked, more than the squirrel seemed to be leading her forward. What she could only describe as a tug pulled her toward the wood, and to somewhere within.

Though she was curious, the deepening shadows gave way to true darkness beneath the canopy, bringing her to a halt. She had no light, and despite the tug, the thought of going into the woods that she'd barely explored at night was enough to break the spell over her.

"Some other time," she whispered to the now vanished squirrel, and after a final look into the trees, she turned to return to the house.

While Melinda disrobed before her altar, the trees rustled as if disturbed by someone peeking out from within.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Glen turned off the radio and broke out into a wide smile when Melinda walked out of the funeral home. Though he had called her a couple of times, they hadn't seen each other in three days. She paused just outside the door to adjust her purse, and then her face lit up with its own smile upon seeing Glen's car parked right next to hers. She hurried over to where he waited with the window down.

"I thought you were supposed to be at class?"

"Skipped it. Got somebody taking notes for me. Thought I'd come see if you felt like a cup of coffee."

She nodded emphatically. "Someone else made the coffee before I got to work this morning." She then made a face and added, "It was horrible."

"Why don't we walk? Too nice a day to be cooped up in the car."

Melinda smoothed back an errant strand of hair from her face. "Sounds good. I've been behind a desk all day."

The pair crossed the parking lot to the sidewalk, and Glen relayed the progress his father was making with the legal side of opening up the cemetery. He had a hard time concentrating, because she was walking close at his side, and her perfume was making him feel lightheaded and silly.

Turning the corner revealed something equally distracting, and not nearly as pleasant.

She must have noticed him stiffen and clench his teeth. "Glen?"

"Let's just get inside."

"What..." she began, and then trailed off when she spotted the silver-haired woman down the street staring directly at her with eyes as hard as agates.

"That's her. Francine Robinson," Glen explained as he opened the door to the coffee shop and interposed his body between Melinda and the other woman's stare.

"What's wrong with her?"

Glen almost choked up and completely forgot why he was angry for a moment when the redhead took his hand. Curling his fingers around hers, he shrugged and answered, "She sees sin in everyone and everything. Thinks it's her job to do something about it." 

One of the girls behind the counter asked, "Nosey Robinson?" When Glen nodded, the young woman picked up a piece of paper and let out a disgusted snort. "She was trying to get us to put this up."

The notice was about a town meeting, and all but demanded that god-fearing townsfolk attend.

"Oh no," Melinda muttered as she read over his shoulder.

"Nothing to worry about," he assured her. "Dad and Uncle Dan probably know about it already, but they will now, for sure." He stuffed the flyer in his pocket.

Their turn in line came up, so Glen ordered. When he had to let go of Melinda's hand to reach for his wallet, there was no denying the blush in her cheeks.

"Let's take these over to the park. Like I said — too nice a day to be cooped up."

"Mmm hmm," she agreed and nodded. She then picked up her coffee and followed him to the door.

The old busybody was thankfully nowhere in sight when they emerged onto the sidewalk. A quick walk across the street brought them to the park, and Glen led the way to a spot he knew where a couple of benches sat secluded by evergreens.

"I'm glad she's gone," Melinda said after taking a sip of her coffee.

"Dad said something once... Oh yeah. She has her eyes so set on heaven that she's of no earthly good."

Melinda giggled. "I like that."

"Of course, I said that she's like a Slinky — boring until someone pushes her down some stairs."

She covered her mouth, stifling a gasp, though her eyes were bright with amusement. "That's terrible!"

"Funny, though," he countered.

Upon reaching the benches, He gestured for Melinda to sit down, and then took a seat beside her. His butt had barely settled on the wood when she scooted a little closer.

Skipping out of class had been absolutely worth it.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Steve's eyes narrowed as he read the flier. "Well, she's acting true to form," he growled.

"Should take some of the wind out of her with you and Uncle Dan there, though."

"One problem with that." Steve shook the flier. "I'm going to be on the road home from court in Martinsburg."

Glen's shoulders slumped. "Damn."

"I'll give Dan a call, but what Francine is trying to do is take advantage of the fact that Melinda is young, and new in town. It would probably make more of an impression if she went herself. Hard to paint her as having two heads when she's sitting right there."

"I don't know. She was shaking when we ran into the old bag, and those letters were enough to make her sick."

Steve smiled and pointed at his son. "Maybe she needs somebody to go with her and hold her hand."

Glen plopped down on the couch across from his father, his face burning. "Lay off, Dad."

After a little chuckle, Steven continued, "You know what's going on — more than enough to counter anything Nosey Robinson is going to come up with."

"So, you're saying that I can present the case, huh?" Glen shook his head and sighed. "Don't go painting my name on an office door at the firm just yet, Dad."




Heart of the Wood



"Can't blame me for trying."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I'll ask her. I've got a couple of weeks to try to convince her."

"What about you?"

Glen's eyes narrowed as he thought about the busybody standing up at the meeting, badmouthing Melinda.

"Yeah, I'm gonna be there."

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Walking hand-in-hand with Glen to her front door, Melinda's heart tossed in a tumultuous sea of emotion.

The last two weeks had been perfect, culminating in the early dinner they were returning from. As she walked, the dryad pendant he'd given her tapped lightly against her chest, hanging just below her mother's necklace. That prompted her to look at him, and to once again feel her heart race from how handsome he looked, dressed up for the restaurant.

Despite how wonderful everything was, she couldn't shake the memory that the town meeting was tomorrow. The thought of facing the hard-eyed churchwoman still made her stomach go sour. Some of the woman's decrying of the cemetery was actually taking hold, the grapevine abuzz with gossip.

She didn't want to let go of his hand to unlock the door, but summoned up the strength. Once the key was back in her purse, she turned toward him, her cheeks growing warm as he smiled down at her.

"Thank you." She laid her hand over the pendant. "For this, and for dinner. It was wonderful."

"I had fun too, even though I feel like I'm in a straightjacket in this outfit."

She chuckled as she took a step toward him, tilted her head back, and closed her eyes.

Chills raced all through her body as Glen's lips met hers. The first kiss on the weekend after finding out about the meeting had turned her knees to water, and every one that followed seemed to be better than the last. She pulled him closer, her tongue slipping out to caress his upper lip of its own volition. His hand moved from her back to her cheek, and their tongues intertwined.

She moaned from the heat that swelled up within her, causing her nipples to stiffen and her sex to tingle. She kissed him harder, feeling him respond in kind. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she gasped when his other hand found her bottom.

Then, she remembered the last time she'd felt this much passion and excitement — and the heartbreak that followed when she'd revealed her secret.

When she pulled away, Glen took a step backward. He held his hands up, palms toward her, and then dropped them to clasp them together at his waist. "Sorry, I shouldn't have..."

Melinda quickly shook her head and moved closer to take his hand in hers. "No, don't be sorry." She looked deep into his eyes, flashed a nervous smile, and said, "I guess I'm just not ready."

"It's okay," he responded, and she felt like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders from the sincerity in his voice. "Guess I'd better get going. I'll call you tomorrow about the meeting. If you want to go, I'll be right there with you."

"Thank you. Goodnight."

"Night," Glen said, keeping his eyes locked with hers for a couple of backwards steps before turning and walking to his car.

Melinda closed the door, her heart and body both screaming at her to open it right back up again. The flash of remembered pain was enough to overwhelm even those soaring feelings, though. Tenting her fingers in front of her, she took deep, measured breaths, until her nerves had calmed. When she opened her eyes again, her feet were already moving toward the sunroom.

Undressing proved that she hadn't completely shaken the emotions that had taken control of her on the porch. Her nipples were still pebble hard, and when she slid down her panties, she could feel the kiss of cool air on the dampness there.

Though not really common practice in the craft, Melinda's mother had sometimes performed seances for guidance. She always said that Wicca was a deeply personal calling, and that one should practice it as the heart dictated, so long as it didn't harm anyone. Feeling the need for her mother's wisdom, she gathered up pure white candles to seek it.

Kneeling before the circle of burning candles, she found her center, and sought the power within. The words flowed from her lips, etched into her memory from studying the Book of Shadows that was now hers. The chant finished with, "Come to me. I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide."

The candles flickered, as if stirred by a breeze, and Melinda gasped. She'd never before had such a physical manifestation happen during a ritual. A sense of familiarity filled the room — the aura that had always surrounded her mother.

Though still shocked, she wasn't going to let the opportunity slip by. "Mom, I don't know what to do. I don't know if I have the strength to face that woman. I'm afraid to tell Glen. I need something — a sign. Help me find the right path, Mom." 

A faint click broke the stillness of the room, and she turned to see the door leading outside had opened. Sitting in the grass, illuminated by the moon overhead, she saw the squirrel.

As it had before, the animal looked at her, and she felt the tug, reinforced by the ethereal sense of her mother's presence. With little conscious thought, she stood up and walked to the door. The squirrel scampered off through the grass toward the trees.

Though it might be possible for someone to see her from the road for a brief moment when she walked out the door, she didn't even consider her nudity as she followed her bushy-tailed guide. This time, when she reached the edge of the woods, the squirrel was sitting at the beginning of a trail that she was certain wasn't there before. The thought lasted for only the briefest moment before her bare foot settled onto the leafy path.

The squirrel remained always in sight, looking back at her frequently as she followed. The vegetation surrounding her was lush — ferns and saplings swaying in the breeze amongst the rustling leaves — more akin to late spring growth than what she would expect for April. The scent of honeysuckle and lavender tickled her nose. Though she knew that she should be shivering in the night air, she was perfectly comfortable.

The light of the moon intensified ahead, as if the trail was opening up into a clearing. Her guide suddenly darted forward, directly into the light, and she quickened her pace.

Wide-eyed, Melinda gasped upon entering the clearing.

The full moon was directly overhead, shining down on an almost perfectly circular opening in the canopy. Save for the path where she had entered, ferns, vines, and low hanging limbs formed a natural wall around the clearing. In the center was a great stone, about knee height, and reddish in hue. Vines adorned with luminous white flowers grew up the side of the stone, and she knew that this was what had called her here.

Having always wanted an outdoor altar, to be closer to nature, she had finally found it. A few steps brought her to the side of the rock, revealing a heart-shaped depression filled with sparkling water on its top. Sinking down to her knees, she placed her palms on the stone next to the heart, and lifted her eyes to the sky above.

A jolt — but not an unpleasant one — passed through her body, and she let out a high-pitched moan. The wind whispered to her, and tears rolled down her cheeks when she heard the words — the ethereal sound carrying unmistakable qualities of her mother's voice.

Tell him.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Glen felt severely underdressed when he climbed out of the car and saw Melinda emerging from the house. She was wearing a knee-length skirt of basic black with a coat to match, and a white, masculine shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, giving the unmistakable impression that she meant business.

Only her vibrant smile contrasted with the look.

"You look great," Glen said as she approached.

"Thank you," she responded, and then put her hand behind his head to pull him down into a passionate kiss.

A little red-faced, he chuckled and asked, "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

She answered with only a grin and a twitch of her eyebrows before heading to the passenger side of the car, picking her steps carefully in the gravel since she was wearing heels.

"So, are you ready for this?" Glen asked as he sat down.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Let's go let the air out of that old windbag, then."

Melinda tugged on his elbow as soon as the car pulled out onto the road, guiding his hand into hers. He couldn't help but notice how calm and confident she seemed as she stroked his hand with her fingers and smiled at him. There was no denying that her touch was giving him goose bumps, either.

The number of cars parked along the street in front of city hall indicated that this wasn't going to be an average town hall meeting. Usually, only a few souls with specific grievances showed up. Francine had apparently had some success in convincing people to turn up.

Atop the wide steps at the front door, Melinda paused, taking a deep breath and giving Glen's hand a tight squeeze before releasing it. He opened the door for her, and then moved in front to lead the way once inside, though anyone could have followed the low hum of conversation through the building to the meeting hall.

The city officials were just coming in when Glen and Melinda arrived. He nodded toward some seats in the back, having seen Francine in the front — naturally. People turned and whispered, suspicious looks on their faces as they tried with little success to look at Melinda without being noticed.

The mayor banged a gavel to get things underway, and the silver-haired busybody stood up — uncalled — to make her way to the podium.

Melinda stiffened as the old woman locked eyes with her. When Glen reached for her hand, he noticed that she was trembling. Closing his fingers around hers, he leaned closer and quietly hummed the Slinky jingle.

Her lips pursed as she fought back a laugh before turning to him to mouth the words, thank you.

Francine's delivery was loud, and full of fire and brimstone. She complained about water contamination. She decried the traffic problems that the cemetery would cause. Most of all, she damned allowing such pagan customs to further corrupt a community already rife with sinners.

"Mr. Mayor, I urge you in the strongest terms to deny this senseless, dangerous request," the old woman finally finished. She then turned to look at Melinda, her face a mask of smug self-importance, and returned to her chair.

The mayor, who looked irritated at having the agenda snatched out of his hands, smoothed his mustache and asked, "Well, as we're already on the subject, does anyone else have anything to say about this..." He looked down at some paperwork in front of him. "Green cemetery?"

"You can do it," Glen whispered. "If you need me to come up there with you..."

Melinda shook her head and stood. "I'd like to say something."

The mayor waved her forward, his brow furrowing as an indication that he didn't know who she was.

Upon reaching the podium, she introduced herself. "My name is Melinda Hart. I inherited the property where I live from my great uncle, Dustin Patterson, and moved in a few months ago."

Murmurs from the crowd mirrored the mayor's nod of recognition. Mr. Patterson had been well known and liked in town.

"I work at the funeral home, and it's my property where I'd like to open the cemetery. If you don't mind, I'd like to explain what a green cemetery is."

The mayor nodded and said, "Please do. This has come to me so recently that I haven't had time to review it at all."

"Thank you. I'll be brief. Bodies are not embalmed in a green cemetery, nor are they buried in a concrete vault. Most often, the body is placed in a simple casket — or even just a shroud — so that it will decompose quickly, returning to the earth."

Glen sat up a little straighter, heartened by the building confidence in Melinda's voice. She was in her element, speaking of the dream she'd worked so hard for.

"Natural stone markers are used, and that's where most of the cost comes from, if the family chooses to have one. The property isn't manicured, and the plots aren't refilled when the ground settles, saving on maintenance.

"I'm hoping to provide a simpler, cheaper alternative to the traditional, costly burial, and one that's environmentally friendly as well. We take so much from the earth while we're alive, and I want to give those who choose to do so a chance to give something back when they pass on."

The mayor leaned forward in his chair. "Sounds a bit wild west, but interesting."

"That whole area is zoned residential," Francine snapped from her seat.

Glen's eyebrows popped up and he smiled, remembering a bet with his father he'd won to get the car for the evening — yet another attempt to steer him into law. He stood up and said, "Mr. Mayor, I believe that if you check, you'll find that there are no county or state prohibitions against several types of small business existing within a residential zone — including cemeteries, specifically."

Seeing the old busybody turn to stare at him with her nostrils flaring gave him the irresistible urge to stick his tongue out at her. That long night of digging through his father's library was now doubly worth the lost sleep.

"Seems I remember that," the mayor agreed.

"Bodies decomposing in open ground, contaminating the drinking water," Francine interjected, followed by a loud harrumph.

Melinda turned to her nemesis, her eyes flashing. "It's better than the harsh chemicals used in embalming. What about the deer? Are they a problem when they die?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

A deep chuckle sounded from the mayor. "I think I know. A deer is about the size of a man, when you get down to it. There are hordes of them running around, and nobody's putting them in concrete vaults when they die."

A voice emerged from the back of the room. "I think I can take care of the questions about the water supply."

Glen turned around to see his uncle, Daniel, coming in the door, carrying a thick manilla folder.

Dan held up the folder and shook it while walking to the front of the room. "These are impact surveys of everything within several miles of Ms. Hart's property. There's absolutely nothing that would indicate a threat to the water supply, or anything else."

The mayor took the folder and said, "I assume the county is ready to approve the cemetery, Councilman Miller?"

"I'm certain I have the support, Mayor Phillips."

Glen looked around the room and saw a lot of people he recognized from Francine's church leaned together and whispering. The mayor and his uncle were both respected, popular officials. Francine's propaganda campaign was losing steam fast.

"I'll take that information into account, Councilman. Do you have anything further, Ms. Hart?"

"No. Thank you," Melinda said, and then turned to return to her seat. Glen's uncle fell into step with her, wearing a grin.

"Anyone else?" The mayor asked.

Silence followed as Francine glared at the people she'd persuaded to come back her up.

"Moving right along, then."

Daniel nodded toward the door, and Glen got up to follow.

Melinda blew out a great breath once they were a few steps down the hall and turned to Dan. "Thank you." She then took Glen's hand. "You too."

"Glad to," Daniel responded, and then laughed. "It's the least I can do, considering most of the regulations about cemeteries originated straight out of my father's law offices, going back to Grandpa's time."

Melinda asked, "So, you think I'll get approval?"

"David will probably sign off on it as soon as he walks in his office tomorrow. I have it slated to come up at the county council next week, and I have more than enough votes locked up. I thought having the vote on the day before Earth Day was appropriate."

Glen squeezed Melinda's hand and said, "Sounds like you'd better get ready to open for business."

She flashed him a brilliant smile.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Irked by the need to attend all his classes because he was spending Earth Day with the family, Glen was in a bit too much of a hurry driving to Melinda's house on the day of the vote. He jammed on the brakes, sliding in the gravel, and barely avoided running into a yearling that bounded into the road and froze in front of him.

Breathing hard and silently cursing his inattention, he turned toward where the deer had vanished into the trees and said, "Sorry, Bambi." He slid his foot off the brake and continued at a safer pace.

Melinda was nervous about the vote, and he wanted to be there with her. More than that, he wanted to spend time with her. School and work had conspired to keep them from seeing each other for more than a half hour or so at a time all week. A roll of his eyes and a snort accompanied the memory of his mother teasing him that morning about being in love.

It was a little hard to argue with her, though.

The driveway to her house finally appeared, and he turned in, feeling his anticipation build. On top of everything else, he was going to get through the front door for the first time. He took it as a sign that she'd given up whatever reservations had held her back when they first met.

Melinda was sitting on the front porch when he reached the end of the drive. As soon as he climbed out of the car, he said, "Don't worry. Uncle Dan has this one all wrapped up. Should be any minute now."

She waited for him to reach the top of the steps, and then said, "I know," before kissing him.

"So, you want to go inside?"

She nodded, picked up a glass of water from a table, and turned around to open the door. "There's something I need to show you."

"You didn't get another letter from that old windbag, did you?"

She shook her head while leading the way into the house. Much like his own home, plants were everywhere. A Ficus tree stood next to the door. Violets, azaleas, or some type of greenery adorned nearly every flat surface. She angled toward the couch long enough to sit down her glass, and then continued on. Two sets of shoes sounded on the dark-stained hardwood floor, moving across the front room, and down a hallway decorated with antique light fixtures, toward the rear of the house.

Glen determined that their destination must be a sunroom, considering the shape, size, and number of windows he could see over her shoulder. "What is it?"

"You'll just have to wait until you see," she teased, though hints of anxiety tinged her voice.

At the doorway of the sunroom, she turned around and paused, stroking his arm as he reached her. "I need to know what you really think. Please don't try to hide it from me."

Glen hoped that his wince had remained entirely mental. Though she couldn't know, he was hiding a rather large secret from her. He nodded, and said, "Okay."

Melinda walked backwards into the room, and he followed, immediately seeing the crystals, candles, and other trappings within neatly organized cabinets on either side of the doorway. A forest of potted plants and trees soaked up the sun streaming through great panes of stained glass. Dominating the center of the otherwise unfurnished room was the altar, where a large, old, leather-bound book rested.

In an instant, Glen understood her sudden turnaround during that first almost-date at the coffee shop. He smiled and said, "Ah, I get it. You're wiccan."

She shrugged, her smile widening. "Or witch. The word doesn't bother me. My mom and grandma were both witches. So, you okay with that?"

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

He almost lost his balance when she suddenly threw her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest. She sniffled and looked up, revealing a pair of tears trailing down her cheeks, and said, "Thank you."




Heart of the Wood



Glen wiped away the tears with his thumb. "What for?"

She answered not with words, but with a laugh, and a kiss.

Glancing over her shoulder when their lips parted, Glen said, "It fits. I can see you in there. Maybe some candles burning."

A deep blush suddenly rose in her cheeks. Before he could ask what had caused it, she shook her head and said, "One secret at a time. Talk about it more later?"

"Okay," Glen said, and then laughed.

"Let's go sit down. Do you want something to drink?" Melinda asked, and then took his hand to lead him back through the house.

"Nah, I'm cool. I was thinking that maybe we could go out once Mom calls and gives you the good news from the council. Celebrate."

"I don't know. I sort of feel like staying at home tonight. And, maybe we should wait until we know there's something to celebrate before we get ahead of ourselves."

"Ah, it's a done deal. Uncle Dan's a pit bull in the council. Whatever sounds good to you, though."

Melinda sat down on the couch, pulling him after. "I like that answer."

"You have an idea?"

Her voice dropped in volume as she leaned toward him. "One or two."

The kiss started out softly enough, but that didn't last long. Melinda's arms tightened around him, her tongue slipping into the kiss, and he responded in kind. The feeling of his fingers gliding over her back as their tongues danced caused a tightening of his jeans within the space of a few quick breaths.

Her hands explored his back as well, but her thumbs curled around, tracing the contours of his muscles through his t-shirt. Glen found his hands creeping ever lower, but her previous hesitation managed to keep his rising ardor in check. The last thing he wanted to do was end up with a rock-hard erection and a feeling of guilt about making her uncomfortable, which is exactly what happened last time.

Fingers curling around his elbow and pulling downward changed that train of thought rather quickly.

She moaned into the kiss as he squeezed her taut bottom. A moment later, her fingers glided around from his back, and downward. His grunt mingled with a high-pitched, surprised moan from her as she sat back to trace the hard contours beneath the denim.

Her gaze lifted to meet his, and Glen surrendered to his desire, which he saw reflected in the depths of her emerald eyes. As he shifted on the couch and leaned over her, she reclined back. Still lost in her eyes, he hovered over her, one hand on the cushion next to her, and the other on the arm of the couch above. Melinda reached up to caress his cheek and parted her lips.

He bent his elbows, delivering a series of soft kisses that brought another moan from the redhead. Then he tilted his head, finding first her jaw, and then her neck with his lips.

"Oh, Glen," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Continuing to trace kisses along her neck, he eventually made his way back to her lips once more. Fingers bunched up the material of his t-shirt, and a hard tug pulled it free of his jeans. Pulled by digits that glided up his chest, the material bunched below his neck and under his arms, giving her access to his bare, muscled chest.

He tried to pull the shirt off the rest of the way, but discovered that it was impossible to do without leaving her lips. After another, far hungrier kiss, he sat up over his knees and pulled the shirt over his head. Once the material cleared his eyes, he saw Melinda tucking her elbow into the tail of her shirt in preparation to pull it over her head as well.

He managed to pop open the button of his jeans before the sight of her breasts clad in only a lacy white bra with the nymph pendant and Celtic cross nestled between them took away all thoughts of removing his own clothing.

Melinda's head lolled back and she gasped when he kissed the upper swell of her right breast. A brush of his lips on the left globe followed, while he worked one hand beneath her back. An amused moan escaped her when his deft and knowing fingers popped the clasp of her bra in one quick pinch.

Slipping down the first of the two straps, he kissed her shoulder where the strap had once resided. The other followed, and she lifted her arms, allowing him to continue pulling to fully reveal her breasts.

She slid her hands up her body, eyeing him with desire as he tossed her bra over the back of the couch. Rosy pink ovals capped the large globes, culminating in slightly lighter pink buttons. She cupped her breasts at the end of her hands' journey, her sultry expression one of unmistakable invitation.

He was happy to accept.

Dropping back down onto his hands, he slipped out his tongue and gave her nipple the lightest brush. She sucked in a sharp breath, only to let it out as a whimper when he blew a slow stream of air at the erect bud. She trembled from the chill, letting out another, pleading whimper soon after.

Glen darted to the opposite nipple, washing it with his tongue as well. This time, he parted his lips and took the nub in.

In a low, breathy voice, Melinda said, "Oh yes," and moved one hand to the back of his head to tousle his hair.

He worshiped her breasts with his mouth, tongue, and lips, teasing the pebbled flesh with steadily increasing enthusiasm. She began to writhe beneath him, which only spurred on greater efforts. Quiet sounds of pleasure tumbled from her lips, broken by gasps brought on by his ministrations.

A finger slipped into the V of the open button of his pants, making him groan when it pressed against the tip of his cock straining against the confining cloth. A tug on the tab pulled down his zipper, giving her better access to squeeze the hard organ.

Concentrating on her right nipple, he sucked it hard and flicked it with his tongue. Melinda grasped his jeans, pushing down hard. At the same time — though he hadn't even noticed her somehow removing her socks and shoes with only her feet to work with — her toes gripped the denim farther down his legs. When he switched to her opposite breast, he reached back to push on the waist of his jeans. Between the two of them, his jeans relented and bunched up at his thighs.

The head of Glen's cock poked free of his briefs in the tug of war with the jeans, and Melinda's fingers brushed against it before he could brace his weight on both arms again. After the first touch, she stretched the elastic away from his body and pushed it down, fully exposing the object of her desire.

"So hard," she moaned as her fingers closed around his naked manhood for the first time.

The squeeze made him throb powerfully in her grasp, and Glen released her nipple to let out a groan. Feeling bound up by the stiff material around his legs, he rose up to his knees, and then swung his legs off the couch to get out of his jeans and shoes. 

Unnoticed, his cell began to vibrate in the pocket of his discarded jeans as they fell to the floor.

Her eyes locked on his twitching organ, Melinda said, "It's gorgeous," as she sat up to work on the button and zipper of her jeans.

Free of the last of his clothing, he bent down to slip his fingers beneath the waist of her jeans. She gave him a coquettish grin and lifted her bottom up from the cushions, letting him tug the denim down. The jeans were tight enough to take her panties with them, giving him a view of the fiery curls adorning her mound.

She lifted her legs straight up, allowing him to slide the jeans and panties off. She then let her legs sink slowly back to the cushions and settled her left foot on the floor.

Reaching out to glide her fingertips over his cock, she parted her legs a little wider and said, "I want you."

Drinking in the sight of her bared body, Glen said, "I want you too," while kneeling down on the floor next to the couch.

Glen slipped his head between her parted thighs, his mouth watering from the scent of her arousal. A triangle of curls pointed to thin, pink labia that looked almost too perfect to be real. Admiring her pussy wasn't what he had in mind, though.

A quake rolled through her body and she let out a quavering moan as a broad stroke of his tongue followed the length of her nether lips. The taste of her was intoxicating, though he'd gained but a hint so far. After his tongue slipped over her hood, he pressed it into the parting of her lips for a much better taste.

"Oh yes. That feels so good, Glen."

His words hurried to hasten a return to her nectar, Glen responded, "You taste so sweet."

Her hands came to rest on the top of his head as he devoured her. No other word could describe the hungry swipes, probes, and wriggles of his tongue over her folds. Every twitch, whimper, and tightening of her fingers in his hair spurred him on to even greater efforts.

"Oh. Oh yes. Please don't stop."

In short order, her hands pressed down hard, holding him against her need while her hips lifted at the same time — not that he needed any encouragement. He could feel the muscles of her thighs contracting against his cheek, and took it as a signal to concentrate on her clit.

"So close. Don't stop. Oh yes. Baby, please." The words grew louder and higher-pitched with every syllable.

Glen locked his lips over her hood, sucking hard, and flicked the swollen bud beneath with the tip of his tongue. Her fingers fisted into his hair, pulling at the roots, and he knew she was almost there.

"Ah! Ah! Ohhh! Oh my... Ahhh!" Her last cry tightened into a squeak, then deepened into a moan as she came on his tongue.

He didn't relent. He continued to lap for her juices as she trembled in orgasm, darting his tongue to her clit on occasion to draw sharp whimpers from her. She just kept coming and coming, until finally pushing him away with a pained sound. As soon as his tongue left her folds, she covered her quivering sex with one hand and clamped her thighs together.

Glen grinned and caressed her butt as she curled up, still moaning and shivering. Her skin was flushed from the face all the way down to her breasts, which rose and fell rapidly as she panted for breath.

When her muscles finally relaxed and her eyes opened, he smiled at her and asked, "You okay?"

Melinda nodded and let out a moan. "Wonderful. I thought... Thought it was never gonna stop. It was so good, but — ohhh!" She then crooked her finger to him and said, "Kiss me."

A series of soft pecks culminated in a long, deep kiss. Glen straightened his elbows to see her swallow and scrunch her nose up for a moment. Guessing that her throat was dry, he turned and grabbed the glass of water that she'd placed on the nearby table on the way through the house.

She wriggled up into a seated position and accepted the glass. "Thank you," she said before taking several drinks and handing the glass back.

Glen turned his head to see where the table was while sitting the glass back down, and nearly dropped it when a soft hand curled around his erection.

"Did I mention that you're gorgeous?"

He groaned from the feeling of her hand stroking his cock. "Have I told you that you're beautiful? And unbelievably sexy?"

She stroked him faster, letting out a long, aroused moan. When she released his erection, she put her hands beneath her and started sliding her bottom across the cushions.

Glen scanned the floor, looking for his pants to grab the condom in his wallet, but just as he spotted them, Melinda's hand wrapped around his cock again.

"I need you. I need you deep inside me," she said in a breathless voice while tugging on the convenient handle toward her parting legs.

A moment of indecision flashed over him, but it didn't last long. He assumed that she must be on the pill, and not worried about getting pregnant. Of course, she didn't know that it wasn't a possibility, anyway. Every member of his family had been conceived on Earth Day, and he had until midnight before that was an issue. 

As to the other potential risks, he felt that he could trust her, and the thought of slipping inside her for the first time unencumbered by a latex barrier set him to throbbing in her hand. He lifted his knee and settled it on the couch, hooking his thumb behind her knee at the same time to lift it higher and wider.

Melinda looked over her breasts to watch him settle into position between her thighs. Glen pressed down on his erection with his thumb, and then settled the tip against her nether lips.

She groaned and whispered, "Easy," her eyes still fixed on him about to penetrate her.

Giving his cock a few jiggles, he wetted the tip in her juices, and then pressed forward. Melinda cried out as the bulbous helmet popped into her canal, her head thumping back to the cushions again. Glen sighed, and then grunted, amazed by how hot, tight, and wet she felt. He pressed on, sliding into her inch by inch, reveling in every second.

She let out a long, staccato ah as the last half of his cock pushed into her depths, the sound jumping a couple of octaves when his balls settled against her. "Oh! So full. I love it."

"God, you feel good."

Her intimate muscles contracted, squeezing his throbbing organ even tighter. He pulled back to the tip, and then pushed into her again with the same agonizing slowness as the first time.

"More," she pleaded while pinching her nipples.

Glen couldn't have maintained the torturous pace if he'd wanted to. She felt too good, and he'd been anticipating it too long. The fight to keep his baser instincts under control and thrust with measured speed was hard enough.

She was soaking wet, and the moist sound of his cock sliding into her depths mingled with her soft moans and his own sighs of pleasure. Every thrust penetrated deep, his balls tapping against her skin, and then retreated until the tip almost popped free of her canal. He wanted to feel every inch of him wrapped in her velvety walls, and wanted her to feel it too.

He shifted his knees and guided her upthrust leg into a straighter position, changing the angle at which he penetrated her. She let out a yelp, her eyes popping wide open.

"Right there. Yes, just like that. Oh, so good."

"Ah, baby," he groaned, the sexy sound of her voice causing him to unconsciously increase the speed of his thrusts.

"Yes. Faster. Oh, you're going to make me come."

Beginning to lose control, Glen sucked his thumb and centered it over her clit, rubbing the bud beneath its protective hood and pressing it against his thrusting shaft. The concentration required helped him to slow down and distracted him from the building itch in the tip of his cock.

She reached down and pulled his hand a little higher, just above her hood. She pushed down harder on his thumb, and he could feel the shaft of her clit. Taking the hint, he rubbed with strong pressure, drawing a squeaky-sounding uh huh from her.

Within a few more thrusts, Melinda's face flushed red, and she began to lash her head back and forth on the cushions. "Faster. Don't stop. Please don't stop," she cried, her back slowly arching up from the couch.

He tightened his grip on her leg and released his pent up sexual energy at last. Loud claps sounded each time he thrust his cock home, and her breasts bounced from the shockwaves passing through her body. Panting through clenched teeth, he fought to keep the urge to come under control.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" she yelped with every hard thrust, her eyes pinched tightly closed. "Oh! I'm th... I'm... Ah! Ohhh!"

She came with a great lurch, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream. One hand clenched tight on the edge of the couch cushion while the other froze with fingers curled into claws. The second hand snapped to his wrist a moment later, jerking his thumb away from her clit. Her feet thumped into his back, holding him close against her as her pussy squeezed tight.

Glen closed his eyes, the sight of her trembling in orgasm threatening to push him over the edge. His cock throbbed hard inside her, the electric itch of an impending climax shooting up his spine. In the end, only the twinge of discomfort in his back from the position she'd pulled him into kept him from erupting with volcanic force.

Her grip on his wrist relaxed at about the same time as he believed he was safe from filling her full of cum if he moved a muscle. He opened his eyes to see her smiling up at him, her expression one of contented bliss. Her eyes blinked shut and she gasped, walls contracting around him once again as a lingering wave of orgasmic energy passed through her. When her eyes opened again, she lifted her arms wide, beckoning him to her.

Still buried in her depths, Glen leaned over into her arms. She held him close, kissing his neck and moaning, "Thank you. Oh, thank you. I came so hard."

"You're so sexy when you come. I almost did too," Glen said, placing a hand on her cheek and guiding her to where he could kiss her.

"Mmm. You didn't come?"

"Almost."

"I wanted you to."

"I wasn't sure."

She moaned again and shivered in his arms. "I do. I want to feel it. But, hold me for a while."

He nodded and kissed her, but a few minutes later, he was wincing from supporting his weight over her with his cock still buried inside her, though it was beginning to soften.

She must have understood, because she nodded and said, "It's okay," releasing him from her arms.

Straightening took quite a bit of effort, and Melinda gasped when he pulled free of her. He sat down hard, his cock slapping against his stomach. She sat up to snuggle next to him and reached between his legs.

"Oh my, you made me wet," she said while gliding a finger along the length of his pussy-slick cock.

Glen twitched as her touch made him throb from blood rushing back into the half-hard organ. "Uh huh."

Leaning in closer, pressing her breasts against him, she kissed his chest. "I want more." Another kiss. "I want you to come for me."

Glen's eyebrows lifted as she kissed her way down his chest to his stomach. She looked up at him, grinned, and then kissed the tip of his cock.

"Mmm. I do taste good, don't I?"

A long groan escaped him as she took him between her lips. He hardened quickly from the sight of her sucking his cock clean of her juices, and soon stretched her lips wide. She took him deep, her cheeks concave to add warm friction, and teased him with her tongue at the top of every stroke.

She released him with a final slurp, and then stood up in front of him. She lifted one knee, and then the other, placing them on the cushions next to his hips. He scooted closer to the edge of the couch, letting her center her bottom over his cock. Once in position, she leaned forward, kissing him hard, and reached between their bodies to press the head of his cock against her folds.

Twin groans accompanied her sinking down onto his erection. Melinda sat up over his cock, wiggling her hips, and flipped her hair out of her face.

Glen caressed her hips as she gyrated on his cock, stirring him deep inside her. She cupped her breasts for a moment, and then slid a hand down her body to her clit. After giving it three taps with her fingers, she started to rub, her hips rocking forward and back.

"Yeah, baby," he groaned as she rode him, her breasts swinging and jiggling from the motion of her body. She felt wonderful wrapped around him, but the sensation wasn't overwhelming, giving him hope that he could hold out for a while.

Melinda, on the other hand, whimpered and moaned, her face growing flush. "Tell me if I hurt you," she said in a rush, her hips moving faster and the fingers on her clit keeping pace.

Glen tensed his muscles, making his cock throb inside her, and her eyes shot wide open. She squealed, followed by several pants. "What was..." A surprised grin spread across her face. "What was that?"

"You like it?"

"Oh, yeah." She gasped. "Oh, you feel so good."

"Come for me," Glen said, his voice low and demanding.




Heart of the Wood



"Oh baby — yes."

Melinda rode him with wild abandon, sometimes circling, sometimes bouncing, her fingers a blur over her clit. The pendants around her neck flickered in the light, clinking with musical tones. In her enthusiasm, she tugged at the root of his manhood on a few backstrokes, but the twinges of pain helped stave off his own climax. That and the sight of her — breasts bouncing, her face tight with pleasure — was more than worth the momentary discomfort.

She soared to her peak quickly, every hard breath a whimper as she bucked on his cock. Without warning, her hips froze in place. A violent, serpentine ripple passed up her body, whipping her hair in front of her face, and she let out a tight squeal.

"Ah yeah," Glen groaned as her walls squeezed tight.

She trembled atop him, head hanging down and her bangs rippling from hard breaths stirring them — each one emerging as a cry of ecstasy. At least half a minute passed before she went limp, falling forward against his chest with a loud groan.

Glen stroked her back and bottom, flexing his intimate muscles to make her cry out from the spikes of orgasmic energy it released within her. She lifted her head from his chest with obvious effort and begged, "I want to feel you come for me."

Ready to oblige her, he nodded and pointed a thumb upward. Melinda slid off his cock with a warbling cry, and he scooted out from beneath her. She braced her hands on the back of the couch to catch her breath, and Glen couldn't resist the sight of her ass sticking out, as if in invitation.

Realizing what he was doing when he stood up, she planted her feet on the floor, bent lower, and looked back over her shoulder as he moved in behind her. His fingers pressed into her hips and she nodded her head, urging him on with a breathy, "Uh huh."

Glen groaned as he slipped back into her saturated sex and gripped her hips tight. He knew from the first thrust that he wasn't going to last long, and so didn't hold back.

"S-so d-deep," she cried as he slammed into her, jolting her forward. "Give it to me. Ungh! Give it to me!"

Somehow, the relentless pace of his thrusts actually delayed his climax. He felt as if he was on the brink of an explosion, but never quite slipped over the edge. His legs crashed into her ass with loud smacks for a full minute, and then two. Melinda squealed and yelped, reaching back with one hand to rub her clit.

Grunting from the exertion and with sweat beading on every inch of his skin, Glen continued to pound his cock home, wondering if he was ever going to come. The itch of climax had intensified to a point where it was almost numb, and he let out an explosive growl of frustration.

"I'm gonna come again. Gonna come again. Give it to me! Come with me, please! Please!"

Her last exclamation transformed into a banshee's wail as orgasm claimed her. Glen lasted all of two more thrusts into her hot canal, then slammed his cock into her depths and erupted.

Guttural cries burst from deep in his chest with every pulse of his buried organ. He came so hard that the sensation was almost like peeing, jet after jet of cum flooding the pussy twitching around him. After what felt like an eternity, a final contraction dribbled the last of his seed inside her, and his knees wobbled.

Stumbling backward and gasping from the sensation of sliding free of her, Glen sat down on the coffee table, head and arms hanging limp as he fought for breath.

"Uh, huh-huh-huh," Melinda moaned. "Oh, that was incredible. Ah! I think I'm still coming."

"Fuck," Glen growled, forcing himself to sit upright. Having sweated so much, his butt was sliding around on the wood, the feeling far from comfortable. He tried to stand, and couldn't manage to lift up more than a few centimeters.

"Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed, and cupped a hand between her legs. Her hair whipped as she looked around and spied her shirt hanging over the back of the couch. She snatched it up, replacing her hand with the garment and stood up straight.

Glen groaned and snapped his knees together when she turned to lick the mingled cream from her hand, wearing an expression of pure, unbridled sexuality.

She chuckled and sat down, making sure to keep the shirt tucked tightly between her legs. She finished licking her hand clean, grinning mischievously the whole time, and then waved for him to sit down with her.

His legs still weren't very cooperative, but he managed to rise long enough to turn and sit down on the couch. She leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder and said, "Wow."

"Wow," he repeated.

"I don't want to go, but I need to tinkle." She lifted the shirt between her legs, revealing an abundance of cum decorating the cloth. "Oh wow. That's a lot."

"Didn't think I was ever gonna stop," he responded, his eyes starting to feel heavy.

"Mmm — I know." She kissed his shoulder, and then stood up. "I think I'll take a shower. You can come keep me company if you want."

With that, she twitched her eyebrows at him and stutter-stepped toward the bathroom. Glen followed after reaching deep within for the energy to rise, hearing the shower start running as he approached.

Hot, steamy water cascading over their nude bodies provoked a reaction, and the water had gone rather chill by the time they finished cleaning up — again. Melinda led him to her bedroom and curled up next to him with her head resting on his chest. Unable to imagine anything more perfect, Glen held her, reveling in the closeness.

If he had anything to say about it, one part of his previously murky future lay snuggled in his arms.

Though he didn't want to, his heavy eyelids won the battle and he fell asleep wearing a wide, content smile.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

A vibration against her cheek and a loud snore caused Melinda's eyes to pop open.

She giggled as Glen shifted on the bed in his sleep, and snuggled up against his broad chest once more. A peek at the clock showed that it had been nearly three hours since she had dozed off in his arms following the most wonderful — incredible — sex of her life, but she was still tingling, and wearing a grin so wide that her cheeks ached.

Alive with energy, she felt the need to rise, even though she couldn't have asked for anything more perfect than lying with her head on Glen's chest, listening to his heartbeat. Slow, careful movements let her slip from beneath his arm and out of the bed. From the moment her feet touched the hardwood floor, she knew how she wanted to expend that burst of energy.

She stepped out of the sunroom doors, lifting her eyes to the sky above. Her nude body bathed in moonlight, she crossed the strip of grass between the house and the trees, and entered the wood. Though numerous twigs and other forest detritus covered the trail, never once did anything poke her bare feet. It was as if she truly was floating — rather than simply feeling that way.

The moonlight brightened as the canopy opened up, revealing the stone in its center. In times of great joy, her mother had often danced around the altar as part of expressing her gratitude for the blessings of the day. Melinda could think of no better offering, and began to dance as soon as she crossed into the full moonlight again.

Allowing the song of the earth and of her heart to guide her, she glided and pirouetted around the clearing, often brushing the altar with her hands. At times, her movements were slow and sensual, only to transition into leaps and spins that fanned her hair out in a halo.

Breathing fast, and with her heart racing, she completed her dance by stretching her arms to the heavens above, cupping the moon between her palms. She closed her eyes and sank to her knees, keeping her hands in position, as if drawing down the moon to her side.

After taking the time to contemplate and meditate, she opened her eyes to see something that widened the smile already on her face.

The squirrel twitched its tail and tilted its head to the side.

"Hello, little one," she greeted the animal, which she was sure was the one that had first guided her here.

In two leaps, the squirrel landed atop the altar, and almost immediately turned around to look at the trees. Melinda's eyes followed those of her bushy-tailed companion, and she gasped upon seeing movement in the ferns. Something man-shaped was just beyond where she could see it clearly.

Moving her feet beneath her in preparation to run, she asked, "Who's there?"

"Don't be afraid," a musical, female voice answered. "Can I come into your circle?"

Oddly enough, the sound of the voice calmed the spike of fear that had come over Melinda. Whoever the woman was, she seemed to have some understanding of what Melinda was doing, and obviously wasn't shocked by her nudity. It was the squirrel sitting so calmly atop her altar that tipped the scales, though.

Taking a chance, she said, "You are welcome in my circle."

"Thank you," the voice said. A girlish giggle followed, and the ferns rustled.

Melinda's eyes went wide in a combination of shock and wonder as the woman stepped into the moonlight. The green haired visitor wore a wide smile — and nothing else — and moved with a dancer's grace. Her skin had a golden hue that even the color-diluting light of the moon couldn't overcome.

Standing before her was a dryad, the embodiment of nature her mother had always believed in, despite never seeing one.

The nymph waved, let out a little laugh, and said, "Hello."

"H-hello," Melinda responded, still too shocked to do more than repeat the greeting.

The squirrel turned and sprang into the air as the dryad approached. Without missing a step, the nymph cupped her palms in front of her and caught the animal. She looked down at it and said, "He likes you. I like you too. You're very pretty."

What fear of the unknown Melinda experienced drained away in the presence of the nature spirit. She stood and said, "Thank you. You're very pretty too. My name is Melinda."

The dryad laughed. "I know. My name is Xantina. Do you like this place?"

Realizing that the squirrel must have led her here at the dryad's request, Melinda asked, "Is it yours?"

Xantina rolled her eyes. "It belongs to all, and all belong to it. It is a special place for you. That is why I showed it to you."

A sudden realization hit Melinda, and she asked, "Was it you I heard here? Were you the one who spoke to me?"

"Silly. You came here to talk to someone, and she talked to you. Your magic is strong in this place." Xantina glanced off to the side, into the gloom of the undergrowth. "May someone else come into our circle?"

Melinda nodded.

"Come, Xankia. Xannera."

The second nymph could have been a twin; save her hair was a darker green. Behind her came someone else, and Melinda recognized Glen's mother when she stepped into the moonlight, wearing a long robe.

Kia said, "Hi," and then untied her robe. "When in Rome..." She chuckled, pulled a bundle of papers from the pocket of the robe, and let it fall to the earth to reveal that she was nude beneath.

"Besides, Grandma doesn't think much of clothing."

Xantina scrunched up her nose. "Coverings are silly."

The other nymph let out a giggle. "You were right when you were sitting under my tree. I like to tease Glen."

With so much information — mostly beyond her previous imagining — hitting her at once, Melinda was at a loss for words.

"I know, it's a lot to take in," Kia said as she approached. "I didn't think it was a good idea, but Grandma did, and there's no arguing with her."

"She's ready," Xantina said as she and her sister nymph sat down.

Kia shrugged. "Considering that you haven't run away screaming, I guess she was right. The vote went through in the council. You've got approval to open the cemetery. We tried to call earlier, but nobody answered."

There was nothing Melinda could do to prevent the blush that consumed her, visible even in the moonlight.

"Then there's this," Kia said, and handed over her bundle of papers.

"What is it?" Melinda asked as she unfolded the outer paper.

"Copies of the paperwork my husband has been drawing up, including the contract for the plots. We filled out a couple of them."

Melinda flipped through the papers, then came to the contracts — far more than a couple. Glen's grandparents, parents, aunt and uncle, his sister, and her husband had all filled out the contracts to have plots in the cemetery. Included with them were checks covering the costs, in full.

With her dream not only waiting for her to grasp it now — but also fully financed — Melinda could only smile and say, "I don't know how to thank you."

"You don't have to. We've been looking into green cemeteries for a while, and we were tickled when you contacted my brother. You're giving us the opportunity to keep giving back and nurturing the earth, even after we're gone."

A faint voice traveled on the wind from the direction of the house. "Melinda?"

The two dryads rose to their feet once more and Xantina said, "Call to him."

"The look on his face should be priceless," Kia added, and punctuated it with a quiet laugh.

Melinda smiled and looked over her shoulder, back along the trail. Just the sound of his voice made her heart swell. "In here, Glen."

"In the woods?"

"Yes."

Glen let out a confused-sounding, "Okay." He then said, "Where do... Never mind. Found the trail."

After a minute or two of rustling accompanied by a muttered curse or two, Glen stepped into the clearing. As his mother had predicted, his wide-eyed and open mouthed expression was almost cartoonish, prompting a gale of laughter from the four women when Kia couldn't hold back a snort of mirth.

Xantina waved a dismissive hand at Glen's pants — the only thing he had on. "Take those away and come join our circle." She then took her granddaughter's hand and Xannera's, guiding the two women to encircle the altar.

Upon stepping into position, Xannera extended a hand, and a smile. Melinda accepted it, feeling a connection to the world around her so profound that she doubted she would ever find the words to describe it. A decidedly ashamed looking — and now naked — Glen walked up to Melinda's side, and she took his hand as well.

"What..."

"Shush," Xantina said, cutting her great-grandson off. "Now complete the circle and close your eyes."

The final instruction proved unnecessary for Melinda, because once the circle was complete, she again felt the pleasant jolt that had shaken her when she first touched the altar at the center of the circle. While seemingly able to feel every plant, animal, person, and even stone in the clearing, everything was overshadowed by the unmistakable aura of her mother's love.

"Call to her," Xantina instructed.

The words flowed from her lips, and Melinda completed the chant, as she had before, "Come to me. I summon thee. Cross now the great divide."

A chill breeze caused Melinda to shiver, her skin breaking out in goose bumps. Without knowing why, she opened her eyes.

Surrounding the altar at the center of the circle, blue-white balls that appeared to be made of condensed moonlight hovered around the stone, replacing the candles required by the ritual. Feeling warmth between her breasts, she glanced down to see the pendant Glen had given her glowing a soft green, while her mother's Celtic cross blushed with a red aura. Above the altar, tendrils of fog made opaque by the moonlight swirled, mingling with winking green sparks of light.

The fog grew denser as Melinda watched in amazement. Her heart began to race as the mists took shape, coalescing into an image both impossible and wonderful.

The spectral image of her mother smiled down on her and said, "Melinda, I'm so proud of you."

"M-mom?" Melinda asked, despite knowing the answer to the question. Tears flowed openly down her cheeks.

"Of course. You summoned me, didn't you?" Her mother laughed, and then looked Glen up and down, where he stood wide-eyed at Melinda's side. The ghostly woman's eyebrows popped up, and a crooked grin decorated her face when she turned back to her daughter to mouth the word, wow.

She tried to hold back the embarrassed laugh for her beau's sake, but didn't succeed.

Another swirl of cool wind swept through the clearing, and the ghostly image said, "I shouldn't stay long. You've made our dream real, and I couldn't be more proud. I love you, Melinda."

The image of her mother faded, becoming more transparent. "I love you too, Mom. I miss you."

"I'll always be with you, watching over you — especially here, where your magic is strongest. On this day each year, blessed by the Earth Mother in thanks to those who gave her this day, you may call to me. Be true to your craft. Be true to your love, and blessed be."

As the balls of light dimmed, and the spirit of her mother faded away into tendrils of mists and sparkling green once more, Melinda's voice joined five others, in perfect chorus.

"Blessed be."

"Family reunions are going to be interesting," Glen quipped, breaking the silence of the night a couple of minutes later.

Kia released his hand to slap him on the shoulder, but Melinda laughed as she turned to him and crooked a finger, beckoning him into a kiss, with tears of joy still streaming down her cheeks. She intercepted him before their lips met, though. "Family reunions, huh?"

Glen blushed furiously, evidenced by darker color in his cheeks, confirming the admission he hadn't really meant to make in such strong terms, but still no doubt felt. Then she did kiss him, wrapping her arms tight about him, and feeling her passions rise.

Caught up in emotion, Melinda forgot that they had an audience until Kia cleared her throat and spoke. "Think it may be time for the rest of us to get going. Speaking of reunions, you're welcome to come to ours tomorrow. Everyone is coming for Earth Day."

Interposing her body to hide Glen's rising erection, she said, "I'd like that."

"Well, we'll see you tomorrow, then." Kia said, and started to turn toward the edge of the clearing. She paused and added. "Glen, don't forget that it's after midnight."

Somehow, Glen's face got even darker, evidence of more blood rushing there. "Geez, Mom!"

"Just reminding you. Bye, now."

The two dryads offered waves and knowing looks before taking Kia's hands and leading her toward the trees. Once at the edge of the clearing, the three women simply faded into the foliage.

"After midnight?" Melinda asked.

"Uhm..." Glen mumbled as he shifted from foot to foot.

Arousal growing by the second, Melinda curled her fingers around his manhood and whispered, "Never mind," taking the first step toward relaxing him.

Beneath the full moon, on a bed of leaves, two hearts and bodies came together as one in the Heart of the Wood.

♠~~~~~☩~~~~~♠

Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed it! Contest results are determined by reader votes, so I'd appreciate yours. Comments are also most welcome, as the feedback is the fuel that keeps me writing. Even a quick 'good story' note is a boost, and constructive criticism is always helpful. I'm not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination.

This story is part of a series, following the family over generations. For a deeper look at the supporting cast in the story, you can always go back and read from the beginning of the series, which are in this chronological order:

Steward of the Wood

Daughter of the Wood

Forever of the Wood

Secret of the Wood

Kindred of the Wood

Hope I didn't offend any actual practitioners of the craft with my depiction of Wicca in this story. I'll also say to Charmed fans that I know I used the last few words of the spell to summon the dead, and not the chant for a seance. I just like the wording of the summoning spell better, and it sort of fits.




Heart of the Wood



Thanks again for reading, and for your vote! ( hint, hint *laugh* )