Undying Love (Secrets 0f Roseville Book 1)

by Betty Bolte

  She parked the car and pried herself out of it. Locking the door, she crossed the sidewalk. The baby elbowed her, and she briefly rested a hand on her belly. Less than two months until her child would be in her arms and the seeming volleyball she wore under her maternity top began deflating. Then, serious weight training could be incorporated into her routine again. Maybe she’d try Zumba or kickboxing. Sounded like a good plan. After she had her baby and cleared the house of ghosts.

  The little bell jangled above the door to announce her arrival. She spotted the sisters working in different parts of the store. While not quite triplets, they bore a strong resemblance to one another. Slender with two sporting varying shades of brunette hair and the other a tawny blonde, no one would accuse them of being strangers. Three pairs of eyes noted her entrance and then turned away. Why? What made them so reticent toward her? Still, she needed answers.

  She strode through the store, mindful of her balance, and slowly climbed the spiral staircase to the second floor where the books on mysticism and magic waited. It was bad enough she could see ghosts, now she sought a way to use magic to rid the plantation of her grandfather’s presence. Life sure had taken some strange twists.

  The nape of her neck tingled. She shrugged the sensation away and kept moving. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed the tallest of the sisters watching her. She gave her a smile and was heartened by its return. Maybe with some time the suspicion between them would dissolve.

  She moved on through the stacks, scanning the titles on the spines of hundreds of books. Ghost Busting for Beginners. A Historiography of Spirits and Ghosts. Spectral Contacts and Solutions Through the Ages. She’d never realized how many volumes existed on ghosts and spirits. Such a variety of approaches, ways to analyze or apply techniques and the belief systems behind all of it.

  Slipping a candidate from a shelf, she perused its table of contents, and then put it back. She chose another, then another. Lots of information had been written about the history of hauntings and ghosts. Very little apparently on how to help them find peace. Or more specifically, how to reverse a spell’s results.

  “Need some help?”

  Paulette looked up from the book in her hands to see the tall brunette sister; the one who had smiled at her earlier. The younger woman regarded her with curious hazel eyes beneath pencil brows. Up close, Paulette detected blonde strands mixed with the luxurious milk chocolate hair pulled up in a banana clip. Her black polo sported the store’s owl emblem embroidered over the left breast. She wore creamy slacks and comfortable shoes. Very practical attire for working in a bookstore. Paulette considered her own decadent flowery maternity blouse over stretchy black corduroys and matching pumps. By comparison, she was overdressed. Her fun, dangly earrings seemed like overkill. “I can’t seem to find what I need.”

  “Maybe I can help. I’m Roxie.” The woman stuck out a hand, and they shook.

  “Paulette. Glad to finally meet you.” She motioned to the rows of colorfully bound books, a rainbow of covers. Faced with having to state her mission, she cringed. What would Roxie think of her desire to learn magic? If the townspeople learned of her need, she’d be ostracized, shunned. Nothing more than the spinster sister. Johnny had once meant the world to her, but he left her with nothing but a broken heart. A kick reminded her of the other thing Johnny had given her. She laid a hand on her belly. She’d always have her child. But apparently it fell to her to rid Twin Oaks of ghosts for everyone’s peace of mind. “I’m not sure how to explain what I’m even searching for.”

  “Start with the general topic and we’ll take it from there.” Roxie shrugged. “You know that much, right?”

  “Sort of.” Paulette read the signs posted on top of the many rows of books. History. Self-help. Mysticism. None suggested instruction on how to use spells effectively. She peered at Roxie. “I need to know everything about magic. And spells and stuff. For…a, um, a party we’re throwing at Twin Oaks.”

  Roxie grinned and pointed at the Mysticism section. “You’re in the right place. See?”

  Paulette moved closer to the shelf Roxie indicated. “Well, my problem is these all discuss the history and beliefs. I need—or rather my friend needs to figure out how to reverse a spell—”

  “A friend?” Roxie folded her arms across her chest and lifted one brow. “Does your friend realize how dangerous incantations can be?”

  Indeed, Paulette understood firsthand the dangers of tinkering with magic. She had a ghostly grandfather hanging around to prove it too.

  “Yes. It’s necessary though.” She glanced around the large room, relieved no one lingered in the vicinity who could eavesdrop on their conversation. “Can you help?”

  Roxie studied her for the span of two deep breaths. “Can I trust you?”

  That wasn’t what she expected to hear. Surprised, she chuckled then sobered. “I need a book. Or a witch, if you know one.”

  Roxie raised both brows, her gaze intensifying. “I do.”

  Again, not what she expected to hear. Paulette blinked twice and smiled, a chill inching through her. She swallowed and drew a long breath. “In Roseville?”

  “Of course. Where did you think?” Roxie laughed, her smile wide and teeth reflecting the overhead lights.

  She hadn’t known a witch lived in such a quiet town. How could she? She’d been too busy with the ghosts. But she supposed they kinda went together. Given she had summoned her grandfather using a spell, after all. And why she came looking for guidance on how to clear the house of the specter. He needed to rest in peace, or at least go away. She’d rather he be content, given he was her grandpa. Maybe he’d go back and be with her grandma, happy and peaceful for all eternity. A good thought.

  Paulette glanced around the room, spotted an elderly woman wending her way through the stacks and rows of books. She peered at Roxie and whispered, “Can you tell me who the witch is?”

  Roxie shook her head and marched to a different aisle of books, one closer to the balcony railing. “Let me show you something that might give you the answers you seek.”

  Paulette trailed after the woman, aware customers below could see but not hear them. Why bring up the subject, then refuse to answer the question? Didn’t Roxie trust her? Small wonder, since they’d known each other for all of three minutes. Roxie stopped in front of books on witchcraft. She glided a finger over the spines, landing on a small, black book with script lettering. She slipped the tiny volume from its home and handed it to Paulette with a little flourish.

  Basic Witchcraft by Peggy Golden. On the cover, the familiar owl, featured on the sign hanging outside, perched on an open book with a single lit candle next to it. She opened the cover and looked up at Roxie. “What’s this?”

  “A beginner’s manual, of sorts.”

  She opened it to the table of contents, several intriguing chapters beckoning her. She definitely qualified as a newbie when it came to spells and spirits. She spotted a chapter titled “Spellcrafting” and flipped to it. Pleased to find sections for writing, preparing, and casting spells. Yes, the book would help. “Thanks. You knew right where to find what I need. Do you have the inventory memorized?”

  Roxie chuckled. “No. But that book is special to me and my sisters since our mother wrote it.”

  Paulette looked at the author’s name again. “So that’s why the store’s called the Golden Owl? Your last name?”

  Nodding, Roxie started toward the staircase. “I have to get back to work. Feel free to look around.”

  “Right.” Several other titles had piqued her curiosity. “I’ll linger here a bit and see what I find.”

  “Great.” Roxie turned back and smiled at Paulette. “You’re not as prickly as we thought. I hope you’ll come back again.”

  “I’m sure I will. Thanks.” Wonderful. Paulette looked over the railing, half expecting the other two sisters to have gathered below as an audience. She’d developed a reputation as the prickly sister. Figured. All her life she’d been
misunderstood, left to her own devices to struggle through as best she could. Somehow her personality made others uncomfortable. She’d have to work on being nicer.

  The little bell jangled, drawing her attention to the entrance. Oh. My. Goodness. She heard in her mind The Weather Girls singing “It’s Raining Men” as she stared from her place at the railing. A tall, dark-haired, gorgeous man in black jeans and a tan pullover sweater that accentuated his skin coloring strode into the store, paused to allow another strikingly handsome man to pass through, and closed the door. Her pulse tattooed a rhythm in her ears as she sharply inhaled. What a hunk. Both of them, for that matter. Hunk number one scanned the first floor in one blazing pass, and then lifted his gaze to spear Paulette’s appreciative stare. She’d never seen a man with such an arresting appearance, despite the bruise on his forehead. Gunmetal gray eyes met hers, high strong cheekbones and a jaw framed by black hair. Wide muscular shoulders tapered to an abdomen she’d bet good money boasted a washer board of muscles. His heavy brows raised as he did the guy once-over and then turned to his buddy.

  Her earlier buoyancy deflated a smidge, but she smiled at Roxie. “Looks like you have customers.”

  “Cool.” Roxie glanced at the men, curiosity infusing her expression, and started toward the first floor. “Very handsome customers too. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Right. I see you have your priorities.” Paulette’s chuckle died away as she tracked Roxie’s progress down the steps.

  She kept one hand resting on the rail, leaning over so she could follow the woman until Roxie reached the two strangers. After a brief exchange, she led the men toward the back of the store. The dreamy one who’d so blatantly assessed her earlier appeared to be about her own age. If she weren’t about to have a baby, she’d try to make his acquaintance. As things stood, however, she wouldn’t burden any man with another man’s child. Doing so seemed too desperate to contemplate. Because she couldn’t allow herself to be involved with anyone. At least, not under the current circumstances.

  When the threesome passed the base of the spiral staircase, dreamy glanced up and winked at her. Startled, she jerked back and spun away, heart racing. Damn.