A Fantasy Christmas

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A Fantasy Christmas Page 26

by Cindy Bennett, Sherry Gammon, Stephanie Fowers


  “That girl the deputy’s datin’ planted them stills so she could git the land back her daddy sold us,” Jed whined to a handful of agents while being fingerprinted. “I’m tellin’ ya, she’s a witch.”

  “We’ll get right on that,” laughed one of the federal agents.

  The Fartious twins claimed they had no idea about the stills. Neither Chayton nor I believed them, but the feds checked the impounded stills for fingerprints, and found only the Abbott brothers’.

  Marigold walked up and down the streets of Sugar Maple searching for small anomalies and a dull gray aura in an effort to find out who enchanted the stills, but found nothing.

  Driving her home, I noticed her gloomy mood as she slumped in her seat. “It can’t be that bad,” I said. “We’ve busted the Abbott boys thanks to you. Smile.”

  “I’m sorry. I just want to figure out who enchanted the stills.” She faced the window, staring out into the darkness.

  “Marigold, it could easily have been an outsider. The guys have customers in two states. Don’t beat yourself up over this.” I pressed her hand to my lips.

  “I guess,” she said as I pulled into her driveway. “Want to come in for some tea?”

  “Love to.”

  She also made up some of her chicken soup I loved so much, and sent me home with leftovers, along with a thermos of warm tea for the next day. The following morning, I strolled into the station giddier than a chicken on Thanksgiving, to quote the locals. I set the tea on my desk and served the Abbott’s breakfast—corn mash and water—before Chayton arrived.

  Jed greedily downed the mash. He let it slip down his chin, not bothering to wipe it off before turning a weasely gaze on me. “You let me and my brother outta here, we’ll set you up real nice soon as we git back on our feet,” he smooth-talked.

  “Pass. I have money. I won the lottery a while back. Sorry.”

  “Come on.” Buck shoved past his brother, pressing his thick forehead against the bars. “We ain’t got enough to pay fer no highfalutin’ loyer. You got to hep us out, one good ol’ boy to another.”

  “Whether you can afford a lawyer is none of my concern.” I took the empty bowls from them through the bars. “You should have thought about that before you dug all those pits and allowed your wives to terrorize poor Marigold.”

  “Yup, like we kin control the Fartious twins.” Jed smacked the bars, then sank onto the cot. Buck scooted down to the floor and scratched at a stain on his filthy shirt. I left to finish up the paperwork needed to get these ‘good ol’ boys’ transferred to a federal prison where they’d await trial.

  The Fartious twins showed up a few hours later with a basket of food. They were dressed in skin-tight jeans and half unbuttoned shirts with their goods spilling out everywhere. They finished off the whole monstrosity with four-inch high heels. “Sorry, Fiona, Felecia. Can’t let you take that food back there.” I leaned back in my chair and parked my feet on the edge of my desk. The twins were going to put up a fight and I wanted to be comfortable when they did.

  Felecia snapped first. “What do you mean? They need nourishment, not the slop you serve here. This is inhumane.” She folded her arms in a huff.

  “Sorry. Sugar Maple jail policy states no outside food will be given to the prisoners unless prepared by the Sherriff or a deputy assigned to feeding them.” I held my hands up and shrugged. “It’s policy.”

  “If you don’t let me feed my husband, I’m going to sue you for everything you got,” Felecia promised in a low voice.

  “Sue away.” I laughed heartily and set my feet on the floor. Leaning forward, I added, “You’ll lose.”

  Before she could explode again, Fiona pulled out a quart of lemonade. “Sister, relax. Jack’s just doing his job.” She grabbed a cup from her basket and filled it with lemonade before handing it to me, pushing my tea aside with a grimace.

  “Bribery is not going to work, Fiona.” I shoved the cup back to her. Next, she pulled out a cherry pie and sliced a piece, setting it on a paper plate. She slid the cup back at me along with the pie.

  “Not a bribe, Jack. A compromise.” She smiled widely—a snaggle tooth I’d not noticed before protruded over her lower lip. “You can test the food first, make sure there’s no hidden weapons in the pie, and that we didn’t add moonshine to the lemonade. You can even test my prize winning possum burger for explosives.”

  I wrinkled my nose. Fiona’s cooking skills may be award-winning, and the lemonade and pie were tempting, but I had no intension of biting into a possum burger.

  “Let me see the food,” I said. She slid the basket my way and I examined everything closely. When I ran my handheld metal detector over it, Felecia’s anger lit up her eyes like a Christmas tree. Before I finished, Chayton came in with a pot of boiled pig’s feet.

  “These ladies want to feed their hubbies this food when I spent half the morning preparing this fine cuisine?” Chayton set the pot down roughly. Only I saw the twinkle in his eye. “Did you inspect it?” he asked me.

  “Yes, all’s good,” I assured him.

  “And you used the metal detector, right?”

  “Yes, Sherriff.”

  Chayton rubbed his jaw. “Fine. They can have the pig’s feet for dinner. I’ll take this back home to keep warm. Don’t want the boys getting sick now, do we? ” He took the pot and left.

  The twins repacked their basket to take to the holding cell. Fiona grabbed the pie and lemonade she’d set out for me, then stopped. “I suppose I still have to give you this,” she said with a sneer, “even though the sheriff gave his permission.”

  “I reckon so.” I smiled broadly. I wanted to try the award-winning grub I’d heard so much about. I’d be willing to bet Marigold was a much better cook.

  “Fine.” Fiona all but shoved the food at me. “You best be hoping there’s enough for our husbands. You don’t want no hungry Abbott in your jail.”

  “I’ll take my chances. And thank you.” I set the timer on my watch and pulled the pie close. “You have ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes?” they snapped in unison.

  “Go.” I started the timer. Felecia picked up the basket and they stormed down the hall.

  The pie was pure heaven as was the lemonade. Marigold would have to use her magic and get the recipe. I tossed the empty plate and cup into the trash can, noting how quiet it was. A sick feeling rose in my gut. Something was amiss.

  I tore across the office to the holding cell and found the twins making out with their husband through the bars. The sight of the sweaty men with their equally slimy counterparts was just about enough to make me vomit.

  “Okay, knock it off. This is not a conjugal visit.” I took the twins by the arm and pulled them back. After some profuse swearing on both sides of the bars, the twins gathered their now empty basket and stormed back to the reception area.

  “You have no heart, Jack,” Fiona snapped. “You’re sending them to a federal prison tomorrow.”

  “Like I told the boys, they should’ve thought about that before selling moonshine. And if they hadn’t dug all those pits around the property, I might have more compassion. A boy almost died falling into one of those. I almost died in one. If Marigold . . . Just get out.” I sank into my chair, anger bubbling through my insides.

  “She’s a witch and you know it,” Felecia shrieked. “Why else was she helping you find those stills?”

  “Calm down, sister.” Fiona patted Felecia on the back. “Jack, do you know what Marigold’s biggest seller is at Betty Jo’s?” she asked. “Love potions. They outsell everything else, three to one.”

  “So, people like to buy love potions,” I shrugged, not liking where this was going.

  “Tell me, Jack,” Fiona said. “When you’re around Marigold, are you drawn to her, overwhelmingly so? Do you think about her when she’s not around? Do you count the minutes until you see her again? Are your feelings for her all-consuming?”

  I sat silently as the anger stirred.
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  “Do you also worry that if you do something to upset her, she’ll turn you into a bug or a toad, maybe?”

  “Now you’re being ridiculous.” I leaned back in the chair and swallowed hard.

  “Oh really?” Felecia sat on the corner of my desk and crossed her legs—I wasn’t sure how she managed it wearing jeans so tight they rolled up her thighs like sausages. “Do you have any idea how easy it is to get rid of a dead body when it’s nothing more than a squished bug on your windshield?” She smiled as I felt myself turning green. “Is that some of her tea?” She pointed to the thermos. I refused to answer, but somehow she knew anyway. “Does she make it for you special all the time?”

  Bile churned in my gut. This can’t be true.

  “One more question, Jack.” Fiona rested her arm on her sister’s shoulder. “When you’re with Marigold, does time seem to stand still?”

  My chair tipped over backwards and I hit my head on the wall. I quickly righted myself as the girls gathered their basket. “Think about it, Jack,” Felecia said. “Oh, and one more thing. Once the boys are in federal prison, Fiona and I are gonna be real lonely. I do hope you’ll stop by and sit a spell.” She gave a wink as they left.

  “No, this can’t be true. The twins are just trying to cause trouble.” I paced to the window as my doubt waned and my anger took over. “Marigold’s been drugging me!” In a fit, I punched the wall next to the sill, making a hole in the sheetrock. “She’s a liar!” Just like my ex-wife. How could I be so stupid? No way was it possible to love someone so deeply. Loving Marigold was intense, overwhelming . . . a lie. Normal people didn’t love that passionately, if they’re not under the influence of a love potion, that is.

  The longer I dwelt on it, the angrier and more disillusioned I became. Grabbing the thermos, I tore open the back door and dumped the tea into the snow, then hurled the thermos into the dormant wild roses that covered the hillside behind the station.

  “Take that, Marigold Yarrow, along with your stupid love potion.” I slammed the door closed and slumped into the office chair.

  “I’m sick and tired of lying, cheating women.” I slammed my fist onto the desk as the rage boiled inside me. “No more. Jack Mahoney is done with the lot of them.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marigold

  I heard nothing from Jack over the next few days. I didn’t worry too much at first since we had another snow storm, but by the third morning, my nerves were a jittery mess. Why hadn’t he stopped by? I made up a batch of his favorite tea and began the slow trek in the snow to the sheriff’s station.

  The skies were crystal clear blue, not a storm cloud in sight. With no clouds to hold what little heat the sun offered, the air was bitter cold. I had to use my powers the entire way to keep warm. I arrived as the federal police van drove away with the Abbott brothers. The storm must have delayed their transfer. I sighed in relief. “That’s why Jack couldn’t get away.”

  Chayton exited the brick building as I entered. “Morning, Marigold. You walked all the way here in this cold?”

  “I needed to get out. Give Gina and the kids a hug from me.” I held the door for him as he went outside.

  “Will do. And be careful. Jack’s been madder than a wet hen these past few days.” He paused. “I’ve been meaning to hose down my hens to see just how mad that is.”

  I couldn’t really smile since my insides were churning with worry. Why was Jack mad? Why? I went directly to his office, knocking cautiously on the slightly ajar door before pushing it open. My breath caught as soon as Jack’s eyes met mine and he glowered.

  “I’m busy, Marigold. What do you need?”

  My heart sank at his harsh tone. “I’ve missed you. I made some of your favorite tea.” I set the jar on his desk timidly. His hand reached out and wrapped around it so tightly that his knuckles went white.

  “What’s in the tea, Marigold?” His words were more a demand than a question.

  “Same as always.”

  “And what is that, exactly?” His eyes remained on the jar.

  “Raspberry leaf, wintergreen . . .” As I rattled off the list of herbs, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small muslin bag. One of my bags from Betty Jo’s shop. I paused.

  “Are you sure there is not any marigold, cinnamon, or maybe a little nutmeg, to name a few?” He flipped the bag onto the desk. I picked it up and read the label.

  “You think I’ve been giving you a love potion?” I would have laughed if not for his stern face.

  “Sure explains a lot,” he said simply.

  “Explains what? I’m sorry, but I’m confused. What brought this all on?”

  “Fiona and Felecia Farious stopped in to see their husbands before they were sent to Federal prison.” He shoved the tea jar away. “Let’s just say they brought up some interesting points.”

  “Oh, I’ll just bet they did.” I folded my arms. If those two idiots had filled Jack’s head with lies again, passing foul-smelling gas would be the least of their problems. “What did they have to say?”

  “Is it true you can control time?”

  I swallowed hard, and considered lying, but thought better of it. I should have told him when he figured out about my being a witch. “Yes, I can slow time. And in answer to your next question, yes, I’ve slowed time when we were together sometimes.” I let out a long breath. “I wanted to spend as much time with you as I could so I used magic.”

  “And when were you going to mention this, Marigold? Or were you going to keep it a secret, kind of like the love potion?” His jaw tightened.

  “Jack, I never used a love potion on you. Besides, those are not real. Read the disclaimer on the back.” I pointed to the label on the love potion as I read it aloud. “This product is for entertainment purposes only.”

  “All your herbs have those labels. You told me yourself you had to put that on the packaging by law.” He took the love potion and tossed it in the garbage can next to his desk.

  The simple act brought tears to my eyes. “My herbs have to have a disclaimer stating that the claims I’ve made are not FDA tested.” I felt my heart break the more I was forced to explain. “The fun potions are just that, for fun. You can’t make someone fall in love with you using herbs, Jack.”

  “Sera did,” he pointed out, “and it cost her quite a bit.”

  “Sera used an enchanted potion, not simple herbs.”

  “Says you, but since she’s a cat there’s no way to prove that, is there?” He shot to his feet. “I should have known.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “No one loves like that. No one. The feelings were too strong, too all-encompassing. I’m such an idiot.”

  I stood silent, my head spinning. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. It made me wonder just how strong his love for me really was if a couple of troublemakers could fill his head with lies, and he’d callously tossed me aside so easily. If Jack Mahoney wasn’t the man I thought him to be, then he certainly didn’t deserve me.

  I jutted my chin out and clenched my jaw to keep from yelling. “If you are choosing to believe them over me, then I guess we have nothing left to say. It doesn’t matter how much I love you, I will not grovel at your feet.” I reached for the doorknob. Glancing over my shoulder, I added, “Oh, and you’re wrong, Jack. Love that intense does exist. I’ve seen it…and felt it!” I had to leave. No way was I going to cry in front of Jack Mahoney, jerk of the century.

  “Don’t forget your potion.” He pointed to the jar of tea with disdain.

  I stormed over to the desk, picked up the jar, and hurled it across the room, shattering it against the wall. “I can’t believe you chose to listen to the Fartious twins, again.” I ran out of his office and down the street toward my road. Only then did I let the tears flow. I cried clear through the night.

  The next morning, I traded sorrow for anger and a healthy dose of confusion. “How do the Fartious twins know about me? How?” I asked Izzy as I tossed out several salt licks for t
he goats. She bleated her thanks.

  “Fiona and Felecia have been harassing me about my being a witch since they moved here when we were in the third grade.” I filled the goat’s water troughs as I brooded. “But how did they . . .” I smacked my head with my hand as my own words came back to me. “Dull, lazy witches leave an easy definable trail, sometimes so obvious you miss it.” I tossed a handful of meal at the chickens and ran inside for my gloves. I had a couple of sisters to pay a visit to.

  Wanting to get there fast, I explained the difference between a mule and a stallion to Sera. She then transformed into a sleek black stallion and flew like the wind to the Abbott abode they all shared, a dumpy two-story shack that looked to be held together by luck and a prayer. Disgusting. If only they’d worked at improving their magical skills, they could have had so much more. I climbed off Sera and marched up the porch, knocking once before blasting the door open with a wave of my hand. A scrawny man bolted down the stairs, zipping his pants. He grabbed some boots and a jacket from the floor near the door and ran out into the cold.

  Seconds later, Fiona and Felecia sauntered down the stairs in daisy dukes and matching plaid shirts tied beneath their breasts, exposing their bloated midriffs. How witches this weak were staying warm mystified me. I ran my eyes up and down their half-naked forms and found it. A dull, gray aura so weak it was virtually unnoticeable. The same weak aura that surrounded the stills.

  “Your husband’s haven’t been gone a week and you’re already cheating on them?” I asked, disgusted with the two. “And it’s only ten in the morning.”

  “Gus is harmless,” Fiona said, parking her hanging-out butt cheek on the arm of the tattered brown couch. “What are you doing here, witch?”

 

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