To Love a Witch

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To Love a Witch Page 17

by Amanda M. Lee


  “That’s what you always say.” Annie was petulant. “I miss hanging out with you guys.”

  “We miss hanging out with you,” I said. “I’m sorry we’ve been so distracted. With Clove getting pregnant ... and then married ... and then the thing with the birds, we’ve been sort of negligent. We’ll fix that going forward, I promise.”

  “Okay.” Annie offered up a shrug and then turned back to Aunt Tillie. “Mom said we only have an hour and you said I could ride your scooter.”

  Aunt Tillie bobbed her head. “Absolutely. Let’s do that.” Her gaze met mine over Annie’s head as they moved toward the door. Her message was clear. We needed to do better. Finding more hours in a day was going to be difficult.

  Annie was a young witch who could do great things without going down the wrong path. We had to somehow encourage her.

  Seventeen

  I was still agitated about the godmother situation when Landon met me in the inn library before dinner.

  “Hello, love of my life,” he teased, leaning over to give me a kiss before he plopped down on the sofa next to me. When I didn’t respond, his expression fell. “Don’t I smell like doughnuts any longer? I thought for sure you would be on me the minute I walked through the door.”

  “What?” I jerked up my head and met his gaze. “Did you say something?”

  “Oh, just feel the love.” He mock grabbed at his heart and studied my face. “What’s wrong with you? I expected to be your favorite person tonight. I thought for sure we were going to have to take dinner to go because you wouldn’t be able to hold out.”

  He looked genuinely disappointed. “Well, you don’t smell like doughnuts any longer.”

  He made a face. “That figures. Aunt Tillie knew I was enjoying myself and ruined it for me.”

  “Maybe. The doughnut smell is definitely gone. You do smell like something.” I leaned forward and gave him a long sniff before screwing up my face in repugnance. “Cherry pie.”

  “Hey! That’s not the face I want to see.” He jabbed his finger at me. “You’re supposed to find me irresistible. That face doesn’t say irresistible.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “No,” I agreed. “It says ‘I don’t like cherry pie.’”

  He stilled. “I’ve seen you eat cherry pie.”

  “When?”

  “I ... .” He trailed off, his mind clearly busy. “Huh. You don’t like cherry pie, do you? Blueberry? Yes. Blackberry? Absolutely. Apple? Hand me the whipped cream. You don’t just dislike cherry pie, you dislike cherries in general.”

  I was amused it took him that long to figure it out. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “No, it’s my bad. I knew you didn’t like cherries. I always found it weird because we live so close to the cherry capital. You avoid cherry-flavored everything.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” I hedged. “I will drink cherry-flavored Diet Seven-Up ... and grenadine.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.” He propped his feet on the table and gave me a sidelong look. “I wonder why I smell like cherry pie instead of doughnuts.”

  “Probably because Aunt Tillie is testing the curse. She wants to see what aromas appeal to whom and then use them as weapons later.”

  “I want to go back to doughnuts.”

  I smirked. “How many women threw themselves at you today?”

  “Only three — that’s not including you, because we didn’t quite get that far. And the mailman was a little friendly.”

  I laughed, delighted. “How did you fight them off?”

  “It wasn’t as difficult as you might think. I just repeatedly told them I was dating you and they were terrified enough to back off.”

  I didn’t believe that. “And?”

  “And I might’ve told them that you would put Aunt Tillie on the job if they didn’t give me space. It turns out fear of Aunt Tillie is stronger than love of doughnuts. Who knew?”

  That sounded right. I probably would’ve gone the same route. “Did you learn anything important today?”

  “I learned Eric Savage is a complete and total jerk.”

  “I kind of figured that out myself.”

  “He’s already trying to ascertain who can lay claim to Heather’s house,” Landon said. “When I mentioned that Wayne Lawson was also poking around, along with Mrs. Little, he almost had a meltdown. He couldn’t get us out of his office fast enough.”

  That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “What about Heather? Was he broken up about her?”

  “Well, that’s the thing ... .” Landon rubbed his chin, debating. “He put on a good show for the first five minutes or so, but toward the end it was clear all he cared about was the property. He wanted to know who would be able to claim it. When I said we hadn’t gotten that far yet, he was angry.”

  “Huh.”

  “Yeah, I mean ... he basically kicked us out of his office.”

  “That’s interesting. At least, I guess it is.”

  “It’s definitely interesting,” he agreed, linking his fingers with mine and leaning his head so our hair flowed together. “I don’t know what to make of it.”

  That made two of us. “It keeps coming back to that property.”

  “It does. What can you tell me about it?”

  “I know the basics. The original structure, at least according to property records, which only go back so far, was a log cabin. At some point a house was built, and then torn down, and then another house was built. The Lakins had property on a different lake before, so they were familiar with the area, but they were always looking to upgrade. That’s how they ended up close to the campground.

  “The Lakins bought the house and tore it down ... and when I say tore it down, I mean they bulldozed it in a single day. We were in high school at the time and it was a big deal. Everyone came out to the old camp to watch.”

  “You saw that house being torn down?”

  “Yeah. Why is that important?”

  “I don’t know that it is, but I’m intrigued. I don’t suppose you remember if you saw people searching the property when you were out there that day?”

  I hesitated. “Not that I recall. Why?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. That Great Lakes pirate story has my mind going in a million different directions.”

  “You think that Arlen Topper’s money was buried on that property, don’t you?”

  “I think someone believes that,” he clarified. “Whether it’s true or not is anybody’s guess. I mean, it’s possible that’s just some local legend with no basis in fact. It’s also possible that the money was discovered decades ago and the finder never said anything.”

  I hadn’t considered that. “Do you think the potential of finding the money is enough to kill two people?”

  “I can’t say that I believe with absolute certainty that Valerie and Heather were killed by the same person. It’s possible that Heather killed Valerie and the ghost killed her in retribution.”

  “It’s possible,” I agreed. “It’s also possible that Heather killed Valerie and someone took advantage of Valerie’s ghost to kill Heather and steal the house.”

  “So many possibilities,” he sighed. “That doesn’t make our job easier.”

  He brought my hand up and pressed a kiss to my palm, grinning when I shook my head.

  “You’re feeling romantic.”

  He shrugged. “I was feeling much more romantic when I thought you’d rip my clothes off to see if all of me smelled like doughnuts. I’m still a little bitter about that. But I don’t need the possibility of having my wardrobe shredded to rev things up.”

  “I’m shocked.” I laughed when he kissed my cheek. “Don’t you want to hear about my day?”

  His expression reflected doubt when he pulled back. “I don’t know. Last time I saw you was at Hypnotic, and your cousin was going to make you participate in a competition to determine the godmother of her unborn baby.”

  “I lost, by the way.”

  �
��Really? Are you sad?”

  “I wasn’t until I realized that Thistle winning will set in motion a chain of events that will reverberate through the rest of our lives.”

  He snorted. “That was Aunt Tillie-level dramatic.”

  He had a point, which I found grating. “If Thistle is godmother to Clove’s baby, that means Clove will be our baby’s godmother and I’ll be godmother to Thistle’s baby.”

  It was a convoluted chain, but Landon caught on right away. “Oh, man. That means we’ll be godparents to Satan’s urchin.”

  I laughed so hard I almost choked. “And you say I’m dramatic.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. “Clove set the whole thing up to avoid being godmother to Thistle’s kid.”

  “Of course she did.” He pursed his lips. “You know,” he said after a beat, “Marcus will be the father of any kid Thistle pops out. There’s a chance it could be the best-behaved kid in the world. We’re casting aspersions on a child that hasn’t even been conceived.”

  “That’s a very rational response. Just out of curiosity, who do you think will win in a battle of genes? Here’s a hint: The Winchesters never lose.”

  His smile widened. “I guess that means there’s a little blond mischief-maker in our future.”

  He’d been open lately to talking about children. He said he was in no hurry, but we’d visited Aunt Tillie’s version of the future in a curse and he’d fallen in love with one of the daughters she showed us. He wasn’t exactly fond of the other two, but he became quite attached to the one. I worried that he would be disappointed if he didn’t get that exact child.

  “We saw Annie today, too,” I said, changing the subject. “Her nose is out of joint because we haven’t been spending time with her.”

  “We haven’t,” he acknowledged. “I feel a little bad now that you mention it. I hadn’t even considered it before.”

  “I tried explaining that we were busy with Clove’s wedding. She overheard someone say that Clove got pregnant before being married and she won’t stop mentioning it.”

  “We can make time for her,” he said. “Come up with an outing and we’ll take her somewhere. What about that weird museum with all the dead animals we went to a few months ago? She might like that.”

  “She might,” I agreed. “The thing is, she brought up Dani. She wants to know why we’re spending time with someone who was bad when she has magic too. She thinks we should be focused on her.”

  “We don’t know that she has magic,” Landon countered. “We assume — and we think she can see ghosts. She might be a normal little girl who sees the occasional spirit.”

  That was wishful thinking on his part, and I understood why he wanted to believe that. “You know that it’s likely any kids we have will be witches, right?”

  “I know.” He squeezed my hand tighter. “I’m fine with that. It’ll suck when we have a five-year-old who thinks it’s funny to mess with me because I don’t have magic, but we’ll teach her respect and it will be fine. Annie is different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Belinda isn’t a witch as far as I can tell. She doesn’t know what signs to look for. She doesn’t know how to help. You guys do, but you’re not her mother.”

  I understood. “She won’t stop at seeing ghosts. She told us she heard the birds talking.

  “Mom and the aunts tried sitting Belinda down and talking to her after she first saw a ghost, but I get the feeling it didn’t go that well,” I continued. “Belinda didn’t come out and call them crazy, but I think she wanted to.”

  “I don’t,” Landon countered. “I think fear made her want to shut them down because she couldn’t fathom the sort of life her daughter would be forced to live if some of the horrific images she pictured came to fruition. She didn’t think your mothers were crazy. She just wanted them to be crazy.”

  Oddly, that made sense. “If Annie heard the birds talking, her powers are growing pretty fast.”

  “What did she hear the birds say?”

  “It wasn’t words. She heard the birds cackling and knew they were communicating. On some level, she might’ve even sensed their fear. She doesn’t realize what she heard. She’s still too young for that. But it will come. It’s not far off.”

  “Well, then we’ll deal with it. Annie is a part of this family, whether Belinda wants to shield her from the craziness or not. We’ll come up with a way to approach Belinda and explain what’s happening. It just has to wait until after we deal with the crazy ghost ... and Dani ... and whatever other mayhem pops up between now and then. We’ll figure it out.”

  “You sound so sure.”

  “I have faith that we can do anything as long as we’re together.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “That includes eating our weight in whatever fattening dinner your mother and aunts have conjured up this evening.”

  I laughed. “As long as there’s no cherry pie for dessert.”

  He frowned. “Aunt Tillie and I are going to have a talk. This is not how this curse was supposed to go.”

  I’m sure she’ll jump at the chance to rectify it.”

  “No, she won’t, but we’re still going to have a talk.”

  “IT’S ONLY TWO MILLION DOLLARS,” Aunt Tillie whined as we made our way into the dining room. She sat at her usual spot at the head of the table, using her outdoor voice as she implored my mother. “I’ll pay you back.”

  Mom was incredulous. “Where are you going to get two million dollars?” she challenged. “Where do you think we’re going to get two million dollars?”

  “Put the inn up as collateral,” Aunt Tillie suggested.

  “Absolutely not.” Mom locked her jaw as we took our usual chairs. “It’s about time,” she barked, causing my shoulders to hop.

  “And a happy how-do-you-do to you,” Landon drawled.

  Mom extended a finger in his direction. “Don’t push me. I’m not in a very good mood.”

  “So we noticed,” Thistle offered from the other end of the table. She sat next to Clove, who was enthusiastically pointing out items in a catalog of baby necessities (and not-so-necessities). Thistle looked as if she would’ve preferred being anywhere else, including back in fairy tale land, which was saying something.

  “This is the Rolls Royce of baby changing tables,” Clove explained. “It has a safety lip so the baby won’t roll off and break her head.”

  “It’s lovely,” Thistle said. “I mean ... it’s clearly the changing table to end all changing tables.” Her eyes sought — and found — me. “I’ll totally trade you godmother duties. We can stick Clove with my kid. I’ll teach it terrible spells in the womb.”

  “We’ve already decided you’re the baby’s godmother,” Clove argued, her tone clipped. “There’s no getting out of it.”

  Watching Clove with the catalog made me wonder if I hadn’t ended up with the better end of the deal after all. Thistle’s kid was likely to have the worst mouth imaginable, but there were worse things.

  “Why does Aunt Tillie want two million dollars?” Landon asked, grabbing a roll from the basket at the center of the table. “She’s not trying to buy a homestead on the moon again, is she?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “I didn’t want a homestead on the moon. I wanted one on Mars. When the apocalypse comes, you’ll be glad I thought ahead. Now, stuff your mouth full of bread and shut up.”

  She turned a set of imploring eyes to me. “Tell your mother I’m good for the two million dollars.”

  That had to be one of the top ten oddest things I’d ever heard come out of Aunt Tillie’s mouth. “What do you want the money for?” I asked, accepting half a roll from Landon. I was a firm believer if he ripped apart the roll and buttered it, the calories didn’t land on my thighs. What? That’s totally feasible.

  “Don’t worry about why I want the money,” Aunt Tillie growled, grabbing a carrot stick from the appetizer tray and handing it to Peg under the table. The pig looke
d more interested in the cake, but she accepted the carrot, making a face as she chewed.

  “She wants to buy that house across from the campground,” Marnie volunteered. “The one where that woman died last night. She wants to buy it because Margaret Little wants it. She’s determined to steal it out from under her.”

  Oh, well, I should’ve seen that coming. “I don’t think we have the money to put a down payment on that place,” I said. “As much as I enjoy torturing Mrs. Little, I think this one is out of our reach.”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “Buying the house is simply the easiest way to annoy Margaret. It’s not the only way. I have a whole list of actions that will drive her insane. If your mother won’t help me with the first, I’ll move on to the second.”

  “Which is what?” Landon asked.

  “Which is going out there and finding the pirate treasure before she can.”

  “Great.” Landon grabbed another roll. “Sounds like tons of fun.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” Aunt Tillie’s snarky side was on full display. “I plan to borrow your girlfriend and Thistle to help me.”

  “Hey! You’re not leaving me out again,” Clove snapped. “There’s no danger in looking for pirate treasure.”

  “There is when we’re looking on land a rampaging poltergeist haunts,” Aunt Tillie pointed out.

  I could practically see the gears in Clove’s mind working as she reconsidered. “Hmm. Good point. I guess you can take Bay and Thistle. I want my cut of the booty if you find it, though. That only seems fair since I’m being cut out of the action.”

  “No problem.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes until they landed on me. “What do you say? Do you want to look for pirate treasure with me?”

  “Of course not,” Landon answered for me, his mouth full of food. “There’s no treasure out there.”

  “I wasn’t asking you.” Aunt Tillie made a face. “I’m serious, Bay. If Margaret is this hot to trot to get her hands on that property, there must be a reason. We can figure out why and beat her at her own game.”

  I had to admit the notion had a certain appeal. “Well, maybe.” I cast a sidelong look at Landon, who appeared surprised. “I’m only going to make sure Aunt Tillie doesn’t get in trouble. I’ll act as a chaperone.”

 

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