Love the Witch, Hate the Craft: A Romantic Paranormal Mystery (The Witches of Secret Hallow Book 1)

by Nora Lee

  Rowan whirled, hand pressed to where her galloping heartbeat pounded against her breastbone.

  Caedmon stood at the top of the stairs.

  Chapter 9

  CAEDMON LOOKED SO smug that Rowan wanted to smack him instantly. “Something wrong?” His eyes sparkled as though he knew full well how much he’d startled her.

  Rowan wiped the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. “No time for visitors. We’re busy.”

  Caedmon stepped into the midst of the construction zone. “What happened?”

  “Just a little accident.” No way would Rowan let him know she was to blame. “Nothing we can’t handle. So if you don’t mind…”

  He didn’t take the hint. “That’s an understatement.”

  Adora shoved a tool belt into the hands of the new arrival. “If you won’t leave, you’ll work.” Her stern look and no-nonsense tone would have frightened off a more reasonable person.

  Caedmon, however, seemed to have no sense of self-preservation, so he fastened the belt around his waist.

  “Work it is,” he said. “The coven’s problems are my problems. I want nothing more than to help everyone.”

  Rowan ignored the pointed comment.

  Orianna chose that moment to reemerge from her bedroom. “Did I hear Fern?” She spotted Caedmon, and her worry faded into interest. She plucked at the collar of her blouse. Rowan recognized the gesture. Orianna had a terrible poker face when it came to flirting. “Oh, goblins. Caedmon McFarland. I didn’t realize you were coming to help too. Let me get something to eat.”

  “Don’t mind me,” Caedmon started to say.

  Orianna had already whirled into the kitchen to grab a stack of dusty plates and a basket of food, which Nana must have delivered that morning. “I hope I have enough for everyone.”

  “Please don’t worry. I wasn’t invited so I’ve no right to a meal.” Caedmon removed and folded his shirt, hanging it over the arm of the sofa where Fern slept. “Nana told me about your problem, so I thought I’d come by to help out. I’m sure you could use more hands.” His glance seemed to dare Rowan to deny that she needed him.

  Rowan set her chin stubbornly. Caedmon McFarland, stripping down to show off all his long, lean muscles, his glistening skin, and the brush of red hair around his navel that confirmed he was indeed a natural ginger. What a show-off.

  Though they’d made good progress that morning, Rowan knew the extra assistance would allow them to finish faster and couldn’t in good conscience make the annoying man leave. “What skills do you have?”

  “I’ve built a lot of surf shacks with my old buddies in SoCal. We enjoyed seeing what we could make with the local driftwood and most of them turned out pretty cool.” He caressed the handle of the hammer in his hand. “I know my way around tools.”

  Rowan rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they might pop out of her skull.

  Orianna fidgeted with her top, a bright blush blooming on her cheeks. “Sounds interesting.”

  “I’m happy to help a lady in distress.” Caedmon bowed at Orianna, whose face reddened even more. He then crossed to where he’d seen Rowan working and began hammering nails into the two-by-four studs she’d set in place.

  His biceps flexed as he wielded the hammer with a skill that showed he hadn’t been lying about knowing how to handle tools.

  Rowan watched him out of the corner of her eyes as she picked at food out of Nana’s basket, scowl fixed permanently to her face. She couldn’t deny his external attractiveness, but there was a lot more to being an attractive human being than a six-pack.

  Not that six-packs hurt, she grudgingly thought.

  Orianna didn’t seem to agree. She was flustered, her napping urge seeming to have vanished. Now she was very invested in helping everyone work on her living room—especially Caedmon.

  Gemma and Enid chattered with Orianna as they snacked. Rowan listened with half an ear as they discussed the possibility of Fern joining the other kids in the local school once it was built.

  “It’s going to be so wicked,” Enid said. “It’s on old holy ground where the first of the Ash ancestors, Emilia Ash, originally built her school. We’ll be using the same foundations, the same circles of power—everything! Just a new structure. Even the most powerful witchlings will be safe learning there.”

  “Do you think?” Orianna asked.

  “Yes, we do. We can help teach her control,” said Gemma in a reassuring tone.

  Adora sat off in the corner, drinking steaming coffee out of a thermos she’d brought. A ratty old money bag lay open on her lap, revealing the meal she’d brought: fat strips of fried bacon, avocado slices, and tomato on slices of thick homemade bread. She also had a brownie bigger than Fern’s kitten. Her food choices helped explain her curvy figure. Rowan often thought Adora looked like one of those World War II pinup girls with her curly blonde hair and bright-red lipstick. The coveralls and blouse she wore seemed vintage 1940s, too.

  “You can’t teach control,” Adora said. “It’s something you just do.” She thumped her fist against her chest. “You’re born with it or you’re not!”

  “That’s so patently, obviously untrue,” Enid said.

  Rowan sighed. “I’m afraid I agree with Adora.” She had never quite learned control, after all.

  Orianna looked wounded. “Really?”

  It was only then that Rowan realized what her statement suggested. She was implying that Fern would always be like this: a tumultuous little hurricane of a human being whom Orianna would never be able to leave.

  “No,” Rowan said. “I mean, I don’t know. I just don’t.”

  “Well, we do,” Enid said with forceful confidence. “You can learn anything at all. And we can teach Fern, especially if we have help from a skilled, experienced, compassionate teacher.” Rowan didn’t like the way Enid was looking at her.

  Fern stirred as though she’d heard her name. The little girl rubbed her eyes and looked around in some confusion.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Orianna sighed. The tension that had disappeared during Fern’s brief nap returned immediately. “Good timing. You need to eat, baby girl.” Orianna picked up her daughter and disappeared into the kitchen, but not before she glanced toward Caedmon one more time.

  The little kitten followed Orianna and Fern through the plastic sheeting.

  Caedmon was finishing the framing of the section of wall they’d been working on, moving with fluid grace. He’d broken out in a sweat that highlighted his muscle tone until he looked like some kind of god. Sunlight glinted off the top of his red hair, highlighting the golden strands mixed in, and his skin seemed to becoming more tanned the longer he worked.

  She looked down at her own messy clothes as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, thinking she must look a fright compared to everyone else.

  As though she’d read her friend’s mind, Enid looked over Rowan as she passed by. “We’ll go to my favorite shop when we get some time. You’re overdue for a new wardrobe.” She refastened her own tool belt. “Thanks for the meal, Ori. That’s just what I needed. And the pie was delicious.”

  “You’re welcome.” Orianna was standing in the doorway, staring fixedly at Caedmon’s exposed back.

  “Can you show me how to do this one more time?” Enid handed Rowan a screwdriver. “I can’t seem to get the darn things in straight. Mine don’t look as good as yours.”

  Rowan examined Enid’s work and couldn’t disagree that her friend needed help. The screw heads stuck out at all kinds of odd angles.

  So she took the proffered tool and demonstrated how to get a screw to lie flat, explaining her method as she worked.

  “Thank you so much,” said Gemma. “Your demonstration makes that so much more understandable. I appreciate your time and patience with us.”

  Enid smiled as she took back the screwdriver. “You’ll make a fantastic teacher one day. I’m so glad you’ve decided to go into the field. Finding good teachers is tough.”


  So that’s their game. Rowan pretended not to understand their ploy. She still didn’t plan to spend any longer than necessary in Secret Hallow and had no desire to teach at the local school.

  “You’re welcome.” Rowan dusted her hands on her dirty jeans and went back to her own task.

  Enid, Gemma, and Adora moved across the room to start on the opposite wall.

  Somehow, that left Caedmon and Rowan basically alone in their corner. If Rowan had had her way, she wouldn’t have been alone with him ever again. She hadn’t forgotten how handsy the warlock had been at the Samhain Grove.

  “I wanted to apologize,” Caedmon said. “I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”

  Rowan scoffed. “You could say that again. How’d you find me today anyway?”

  “I went to Nana’s house to make amends. She said I could find you here.”

  Of course she did. Meddling monster of a grandmother.

  “Your apology is accepted and you can leave as soon as you like,” Rowan said. “Don’t let me hold you down. Get going. Blessed be.”

  Caedmon set down the hammer to give her his full attention. “Rowan, the Winterblossom women have run the coven for generations, ever since a Hallows man wedded with the Priestess of the Coven of the North.”

  “Good ghoulies, I didn’t know my own family history, thank you for sharing,” Rowan said. She didn’t bother trying to conceal her irritation one whit.

  “You would be doing the village a huge favor if you wedded a warlock from an outside coven and brought in a fresh magic line. Someone who’s strong enough to lead.”

  “This is your idea of flirting?” She felt a little queasy. “Wait, is this a marriage proposal?”

  “I will help Secret Hallow,” Caedmon said, eyes burning with determination. The burning faded after a moment. He picked up his hammer again. “For now, all I want is a chance to get to know you better, Rowan Middlebrook.” He gestured at the wall. “We could finish quicker if we use stronger tools. I know you’re one of the strongest witches to be birthed in the village for generations.”

  Rowan wrinkled her nose as the musk of male sweat wafted over her. She looked up toward the sky, watching the puffy clouds pass by on a gentle breeze as she counted to ten in order to maintain her patience. She wouldn’t give Caedmon the satisfaction of knowing how much he annoyed her.

  “I’ve already told you I will not use my powers. Either get back to work or get out of here. Those are your options.” She hammered a nail in with such force that she left a noticeable dent in the board. Anger welled within her, causing her self-control to drop enough for power to well from the ground below the structure in which they stood. The building shuddered.

  Adora cleared her throat pointedly, breaking through Rowan’s growing temper.

  She took a few deep breaths. The trembling subsided.

  Taking off his tool belt, Caedmon reached for his shirt. “I’m getting hungry,” he announced. “That snack from beautiful Nana and Orianna only whetted my appetite. I think it’s time for lunch!”

  “Good idea.” Rowan nodded toward her friend. “You should take Orianna and Fern out.”

  Adjusting her daughter on her hip, Orianna flushed and shook her head. “No need for that. I’ve got plenty of food in the kitchen. I can make something else if you’re all getting hungry again.”

  “Getting away from this for a little while will do you both good,” Rowan said.

  “I’m sure Caedmon would rather not have a kid interrupting his relaxing lunch.”

  Caedmon gave Orianna a reassuring smile. His gaze warmed when he looked at her as the aggressiveness he displayed toward Rowan was replaced by something approaching fondness. “I wouldn’t mind company while I eat. We could talk more about what to do for the Elder Tree.” He nodded at Fern. “And I’m sure the little one would like something sweet.”

  “I don’t know…”

  Gemma called out her own encouragement. “You can leave Fern with us. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

  “She’s right,” said Enid. “Together, I’m sure you two could come up with a good solution. We’ll watch Fern while you’re out!”

  Orianna stroked Fern’s hair and looked down into her eyes. “What do you think, sweetie? Would you like to play with the aunties?”

  Fern stuck her thumb in her mouth and nodded.

  “Okay, that’s settled.” Caedmon rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go!”

  Orianna set Fern down on the sofa. “Be good, okay?” The child stroked the kitten that crawled into her lap without responding to her mother. But Orianna hovered over her, twisting her hands together. “Are you sure you’re all okay with this?”

  “Go already!” said Enid and Gemma in unison.

  Caedmon ushered Orianna out through the reconstructed doorframe as Adora joined Fern.

  Rowan watched her friend and her nemesis leave with some relief. Caedmon almost acted like a decent human being around Orianna. Clearly Rowan brought out the worst in him, whereas Orianna did not. And he must have been a powerful warlock indeed to pry Orianna away from her daughter so soon after the previous day’s catastrophe.

  Or else Orianna was just charmed by the magic of a very nice set of pectorals. Either way.

  Enid dropped her tools with a sigh. “We can get this done much faster, Rowan.” She snapped her fingers, and pink sparkles gushed from the point of contact. Warm magic hummed through the air. “Do you mind?”

  A back spasm chose that moment to remind Rowan just how hard they’d all been working. She came to a decision. “You’re right. There’s no way we can finish this in a couple days using our current methods. Maybe you could magic a fix to the house before the lovebirds get back from lunch.”

  Gemma giggled. “Lovebirds!”

  “About time!” Adora rumpled Fern’s hair and hurried to join the Ash sisters. “Let’s finish this.”

  Adora lifted her hands, and magic swelled along with the gesture.

  The pumpkin vines retreated, slithering across the floor like serpents. Magic flowed from the Samhain Grove through the witches as the air filled with glitter like neon fireflies.

  Lumber, fasteners, and tools flew around the site, the walls and ceiling coming back together much quicker than before.

  Even without contributing her powers, Rowan could feel the tide of magic carrying her along.

  It was a beautiful thing, to be connected to the witches, Secret Hallow, and the Samhain Grove. It felt like the warmth of childhood.

  Yet reaching through the magic allowed Rowan to feel the Elder Tree. It radiated tiredness—and, strangely, it felt sad. Almost lonely. It was giving everything it had to the witches casting magic, but the Elder Tree simply didn’t have much left to give.

  A strand of ivy tickled Rowan’s ankle, as though inviting her to help.

  “No,” she said firmly. “They’ll do fine without me.”

  Something else tickled her side. She looked down to see Fern leaning against her hip, thumb stuck firmly in her mouth, black kitten perched on her shoulder. She was looking expectantly at Rowan.

  She’d made a strategic error in permitting the other witches to do magical work, which Rowan didn’t want to participate in.

  If she weren’t helping her friends, Rowan would have to watch Fern.

  Again.

  Chapter 10

  ROWAN HAD A few sweet seconds of thinking that her second day of babysitting might not be too bad. Fern was acting cute and quiet, after all. The way she leaned against Rowan gave her a slight feeling of confidence.

  Then Fern made a break for Adora, who was currently enchanting a sledgehammer to smash a wall down.

  “No!”

  Rowan dived for Fern, seizing her hand just in time.

  The sledgehammer swung harmlessly over her head. It cracked the drywall and sent pink sparkles splashing over the floor—and Fern’s feet.

  “Goddess, are you okay?” Rowan asked, yanking her back.

&nbs
p; “Relax, Rowan,” Adora said. “The girl’s fine. She just wants a better view of the work.” The witch swept her hands to guide the wreckage of the drywall to a pile in the corner.

  Rowan couldn’t relax. She was afraid that anything might set Fern off on another tantrum at any moment, and that she’d destroy all the progress the witches had made.

  “Could you show me your bedroom, Fern?” Rowan asked. The little girl shook her head. “We should get out of the way. Hey! Let’s go down to the beach. We can build sandcastles. I used to love doing that when I was your age.”

  Fern’s eyes brightened. She darted toward the door fast enough that the kitten on her shoulder leaped to the floor.

  A two-by-four whirling into place nearly struck Fern in the face.

  Adora stopped it with an easy gesture.

  “Maybe you guys should get hard hats,” Rowan suggested, ducking under drywall nails that looked like they had formed a conga line dancing through the air. Fern watched them with obvious delight.

  “Witches don’t need hard hats!” Adora scoffed.

  “Just really good reflexes!” Enid said, leaping out of the way of insulation that Adora was magicking across the living room.

  Rowan held tight to Fern’s hand and led her toward the stairs.

  “The beach is going to be so much fun,” Rowan said.

  She didn’t have to feign enthusiasm. She was confident that the beach would be a ton of fun for Fern for the same reason that it had been fun for Rowan: no severity of witchy tantrums could hurt a beach. The ocean was an elemental force bigger than Rowan, even bigger than Hurricane Fern. If Fern could dish out the punishment, the beach could take it.

  Everywhere in Secret Hallow was a short walk from the beach. They just had to cut across two blocks of cottages and head down a narrow trail through trees. A strong wind followed them, shaking red and gold leaves off the branches overhead.

  The wind was cool enough that the beach was empty. A few witches walked down near the cliffs, wrapped in North Face jackets and downy hats. There was nobody in the rocky shallows at the end of the trail, though.