Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“You have to put your name and address?” he asked. “What? The tree doesn’t just magically know those things?”
“No, silly, it doesn’t. What would you wish for?” she asked, staring up at him.
You.
But that wasn’t something he could say. Not without scaring her. So he cleared his throat.
“I don’t know. Maybe . . . maybe one more day with my dad.” It was odd. Most of the time, he thought he was good. That he had gotten past the raw pain of his father’s death. But then, something happened to bring the past back. Something would remind him of his dad and he would feel the pain flood him again.
Suddenly, he found himself with a bundle of Bebe in his arms, holding onto him tight with her face pressed against his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing him tighter.
“Hey, what’s this?” he murmured. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m so sorry that your dad died. He was a wonderful dad to you and he’s gone too early . . . it’s just not right, and I wish there was something I could do to get him back for you.”
Oh.
Ohh. That was really very sweet. He tightened his hold on her, spotting Hayes across the room. The other man pointed up. Was he going upstairs to look around? How would he get up there?
Actually, it didn’t matter.
He was grateful that Hayes was giving them time alone.
Drawing her back, he placed a finger under her chin. “Thank you for that, baby. My dad dying was a horribly painful thing to go through for my whole family. But I was lucky to have him and I didn’t say that to make you sad.”
“It’s just . . . the wishing tree can’t bring people back from the dead.”
She said it so earnestly. As though she thought it could really do other things . . . like grant actual wishes.
“It’s all right, Bebe. I know it can’t. When I said that about my father . . . well, I wasn’t really thinking. It just came out. I know that nothing can bring him back. Not even a magic wishing tree.”
She gave him a small smile. “I know you’re just humoring me, but it really does grant wishes. Is there anything else you want? You can write it down and throw it in.”
“No, uh, nothing I can think of.”
She nodded.
“What about you? Have you ever made a wish?” he asked.
“Yeah, I did when I was feeling at my lowest. That’s when the real wishes are created. And granted.”
Did she really believe all of this? Surely, she couldn’t.
“And was your wish granted?” he asked.
She gave him a strange look. “Not yet. It’s being worked on.”
Okay, that didn’t make a lot of sense. But he got the feeling he shouldn’t ask what her wish was.
An older woman stepped up to the tree and started writing on a piece of paper. Then she sent it into the hole.
She was thin and hunched, as though life was weighing her down. Her dark hair was streaked with gray, and it was flat and lifeless.
“What wish did you make?” Bebe asked quietly, surprising him.
“Wait, should she tell you that?” he asked.
Bebe grinned at him. “It’s okay. It’s not like birthday wishes. You can tell people what you wish for. If you’re comfortable with it, that is.”
The woman let out a deep sigh. “I got sick last year and my husband took a lot of time off to take care of me. He lost his job, not that I blame his employer or anything. But now, we’ve got three kids to feed and medical bills to pay, and I’m not yet well enough to work and he can’t find any.”
“So you asked for money?” Corbin asked.
The woman frowned. “You don’t ask the wishing tree for money.”
Bebe shook her head. “That’s not the way it works. You don’t ask for money or things. You ask for . . . help.”
“Right. That’s all we want is a bit of help. I was a baker. A really good one before I got sick and my husband used to help me. We’re thinking of something small. A stall in a market. Nothing too big. We’ll build it up from there if we can. We just need help to get started.” The woman gave them a sad smile before walking away.
Anger rushed through him. “Isn’t this giving people false hope?”
“What?”
“It’s giving false hope to people down on their luck.”
“Well, isn’t that what a wishing tree or making a birthday wish or wishing on a star does?”
“Yeah, but this place lures people in with false promises. Into a place where they sell alcohol. So basically, isn’t it like a gimmick to get people into a pub to buy alcohol?”
Bebe shook her head sadly. “It isn’t like that at all. Remember, you can’t get in here unless you’re a member or a member brings you. The Duke doesn’t need more people in here. Look around. It’s all right if you don’t believe it. But try not to say anything bad about the Duke in here. People around here won’t like it.”