Winter Sparrow by Estevan Vega Read Free Book Online

in his hands, but it wasn’t. His boyish grin, his slick, combed-through hair, those disarming eyes, had power.
As Joshua read his vows, her heart began to warm within her chest. Every breath a stutter. A joy. She again looked out on the small crowd of people who had watched her wander down the aisle toward the altar during the softest of songs. Thankfully, she didn’t trip, not like her sister. She was his bride now. She had a new song, like the sparrows tweeting above them in the close-by trees while the priest ended their ceremony by asking Joshua to kiss her.
Why was there ever any doubt or fear? Joshua’s mouth had penned a brilliant story across her lips when he touched them for the first time as her husband. Passion and unbridled faith consumed each breath. Among the things she tasted were his dreams, his sweet cologne, and the flowers from the surrounding meadow. Like my garden.  
What she smelled now, however, was some of the food the caterers had allowed them to package and take along with what was left of their wedding cake. While never being a fan of fondant cakes, Mary knew this one tasted richer. She and Joshua would spend the upcoming week working on the mansion during the day, polishing off the remainder of the food at dusk, and wrapped in each other’s arms at night.
Upon their arrival, Mary parked the Pathfinder and waited for Joshua to come around to the driver’s side and indulge her teenage fantasy of being lifted out of the carriage by someone strong and handsome. 
“How romantic of you,” Mary said when he took her by the arm and clumsily lifted her over his shoulder.
“Is this how you do it?” he asked.
“Not in the slightest, husband.”
“Oh, look at that. The word isn’t on her lips twenty-four hours before she’s using it all negatively.”
“Well, if you would carry me like a lady, then I would gladly use your title more romantically.”
Joshua chuckled. He placed her down and picked her back up again properly but not before planting one on her mouth. “You know you love my sense of humor.”
“I suppose it is rather cute,” she said, licking her lips to savor his taste.
“Shall we enter our humble abode now, m’lady?”
“Certainly, my handsome prince.” As Joshua carried her across the lawn, she couldn’t help but glance for a moment at the sad willow tree. It sought to rob her of this moment of happiness. She imagined it as some other lost girl, a child who once glimpsed hope but was now riddled with sorrow and age and the realities of the world, only capable of expelling new miseries to those who still clung to the frailties of life. Mary tucked her head into Joshua’s firm chest. Once at the porch, she reached into his pocket and searched for the right key.
“I think I found the one,” she said, staring into his eyes. She placed the key in the handle and turned it until the door opened.
“Now, why is it whenever I try to do that, the door fights me?”
“Because, my dear, this lock cannot resist my charms.”
He let her down upon entering the mansion’s front door. It was barely dusk, and the light would continue to trickle in for the next hour or so. Mary danced with joy for the first time in the foyer she had once despised. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that the mansion remained an unfinished painting. She knew this place could be home. 
“You look like magic,” Joshua said, beaming as he reached for her hand for their second first dance.



BY THE END OF SEPTEMBER , dawn resembled dark poetry. A spellbound earth sat behind the hills and clouds and dim but rising light. It was made new by irregular colors. The trees on the south end of the mansion flexed rebelliously out of the black dirt womb and created skinny branches. The shades of leaves faded. Mary imagined mutinous veins charging up the bark of its tree—the very same wires that showed the lifeline of every leaf that would soon slip off to die—as a nearly invisible force that plagued the world. The