by K. J. Emrick
He lifted up a white ceramic mug with Darcy’s logo printed on it in thick blue letters from a display case with a dozen identical cups, half a dozen travel thermoses, and racks of keychains. Then he set it back in place again, rubbing his fingertips together like it had been dusty. Darcy’s store did not have dust. The man was pushing all of her buttons.
“And that’s not even the best part,” he added.
Darcy braced herself. “Oh? There’s a best part?”
“Sure is! While I’m selling your merch in my store, I’ll be selling mine right alongside it, and you can sell mine in here!”
Okay, Darcy thought. That made sense. “So you have shirts printed up with the bakery logo on them? That sort of thing?”
His smile showed perfect white teeth that had to represent thousands of dollars in dental surgery. “Got something better. See, the shirts have a little circle with the bakery name right here—” He cupped his free hand over his left shoulder, above his heart. “—and then in big letters across the front they say things like, I Got Baked in Misty Hollow.”
Darcy was pretty sure her eyes were about to bug out of her head.
“And Misty Hollow’s Got The Goods.”
He could not be serious.
“And, Muffin Tops Are The Best Part.”
She cleared her throat. That was just about enough of this. “Tobias. There is no way I would ever sell shirts like that in my store.”
His brows scrunched down and made heavy furrows across his forehead. He was honestly confused. “Why not? That’s what this town runs on, is tourism and whacky nonsense, right?”
“I think,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, “that you don’t understand this town at all.”
“Oh really? Didn’t your Town Hall burn down a few Halloweens ago?”
“Yes, it did, and it very nearly killed me and Jon and Helen when it—”
“And didn’t someone,” he said with a wry smile, “kidnap your cat?”
She had no idea how he would have heard about that one, unless it was through the town’s overactive rumor mill. “Smudge got away by himself, but yes.”
His laugh was deep and rumbly. “The cat got away by himself. Oh, man. See? That stuff is priceless! That’s the sort of thing the people want. You know, you’re the second place I’ve come to offering this business deal, and both of you have turned me down flat. You think I don’t understand this town, being an outsider and such, but maybe it’s all of you who don’t understand Misty Hollow so well.”
For a moment, she was completely speechless. She had never wanted to slap a man across his face more than she wanted to slap Tobias Ford right now, and that was saying a lot.
The cup that Tobias had just put back suddenly scooched out of place and fell off the display, landing with a thunk on the floor. They watched as it rolled awkwardly over its handle to rest against Tobias’s boot.
“Oops,” he said, bending to pick it up. “Must not’ve put it back on the shelf proper.”
Darcy nodded, but she knew better. That cup didn’t fall because of gravity or because it had been set too close to the edge. If Darcy needed any proof that Tobias didn’t understand the goings on in Misty Hollow half as well as he thought he did, there it was.
Great Aunt Millie was voicing her opinion of his idea. She didn’t like the idea much.
Neither did Darcy.
“I’m afraid I have to pass on your offer,” Darcy told him. “I really don’t want this shop that my aunt started and that I’ve built up with years of hard work to be associated with that kind of… vulgar sales pitch. Misty Hollow is a wonderful, amazing place, and I do not want to see it brought down to the level of some sophomoric joke.”
Tobias regarded her for a long moment, storm clouds brewing behind his deep brown eyes. “I see. Well. That’s your prerogative, I suppose. Let me tell you this, though. I know business. I’ve got successful endeavors in three states now. Things are going well for me. They’re going to go well for me here, too. You can get on board with my vision, or you might find your business beginning to suffer.”
Darcy thought maybe she heard something very subtle in the way he said that. “Mister Ford, are you threatening me?”
His smile was back immediately, all teeth, like a shark. Putting his hat up on his head, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat. “No, Ma’am. Wouldn’t dream of it. Just wanted to let you know that sometimes one business can start doing so well that all the others in town suffer. Sometimes, one business can put the word out that the other stores in town don’t want to sell their product to the tourists. Once word like that gets out, well… those other businesses tend to suffer. Seen it happen before. I’d hate to see it happen here in Misty Hollow.”
“I think you need to leave now,” Darcy told him flatly. “I also think you might want to purchase your books somewhere else.”
“Hmm. Not a bad idea.” He pulled at his ear again, slowly nodding his head. “Maybe it is time for Misty Hollow to have two bookstores. Mmm-hmm. You’ve given me something to think on, Mrs. Tinker. You sure have.”
“It’s Sweet,” she corrected him. She was married to Jon Tinker, but their agreement was for each of them to keep their own last name, at least in their public life. They would pass their surname down to their children according to gender. Girls would be named Sweet. The boys, Tinker. “My name is Darcy Sweet, Mister Ford. I’ve lived in this town all of my adult life and I know the people here. We’re a tough bunch, and we don’t take kindly to being forced into doing things. We especially don’t like to be threatened.”
He pulled his hat down a little lower, his smile still on high wattage. “Point taken, Miss Sweet. Point taken.”
Then he looked over her shoulder, and waved with his fingers. “Hey there, Little Miss. You having as good a day as I am?”
Darcy looked back, over behind the sales counter, where Colby had come to watch the conversation. She sighed, hating herself for losing her temper in front of her daughter. Even if this big bull of a man had deserved every word, Colby didn’t need to hear such things.
“I think you should go,” Colby told Tobias.
Darcy wasn’t sure whether she or Tobias were more surprised. He grunted something unintelligible, and then turned on his heel and stalked across the floor to leave, the little shopkeepers bell ringing furiously as the door closed on the falling, blowing snow.
“I don’t think I like him,” Colby said to her mother, drumming her fingertips on the sales counter, back and forth. “Nope. I’ve decided. I don’t like him.”
Somewhere back in the bookstore, three books fell off their shelves one after the other. Whump. Whump. Whump!
Colby shrugged. “I don’t think Millie likes him, either.”
As Darcy went to pick up the books that her aunt had thrown to the floor, she had to wonder if anyone at all liked Tobias Ford.
Anyone other than himself, that is.
Chapter Two
When they got home, Jon surprised them by having dinner already made and keeping warm on low heat on the stove. The aroma of macaroni and cheese and grilled hotdogs filled the air as soon as Darcy and Colby got inside.
Jon met them at the door, spinning Colby around and around as he pretended to have completely forgotten how to take off a seven-year-old’s jacket. One sleeve came off, got turned inside out, and somehow managed to go back on. At one point he had her rolled up into his arms, head down toward the floor, feet kicking in the air, while she laughed so hard her face turned red and she could barely breathe.
“Jon, don’t break our daughter, please,” Darcy said with mock concern. “She’s the only one we have.”
Setting Colby on her feet again, Jon knelt down to cover her ears with his hands and whisper to Darcy, “The only one for now.”
“Ew, gross,” Colby giggled, pushing Jon’s hands away. “You guys are not allowed to talk about stuff like that while I’m in the room.”
Jon stood up, pulling Dar
cy close, wrapping his arms around her. “So, are we allowed to do things like this?”
He kissed Darcy’s lips, and she smiled, watching Colby’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. Their daughter was very intently trying to act like she wasn’t interested in all that kissing stuff.
With a shrug, she said, “I suppose you can kiss if you want.”
“Hmm,” Jon wondered. “What if I do… this?”
He took a deep breath, and then threw his face into the crook of Darcy’s neck, making loud and exaggerated biting noises as if he was going to chew her up. “Um nom nom!”
“No, no, no!” Colby squealed, running from the room, trailing her jacket behind her on the floor. “You guys are crazy!”
Darcy was laughing as she tried to push Jon away. His lips were kissing her in a very ticklish spot and it was all she could do to keep from curling up, helpless in his arms. “Jon! Quit it! We’ve got dinner to put on the table and Colby needs to be fed and… and…”
His teeth nipped her skin and she yelped.
“None of that!” she scolded him, slapping her palm against his shoulder over and over until he finally let her go. “You, Mister Tinker, are incorrigible.”
“You, Mrs. Sweet, know a lot of big words.” He caught her hand as she tried to slip past him and twirled her around like they were dancing. “Must come from working in a bookstore.”
“It comes from reading,” she told him proudly. “And you knew I was a diehard bibliophile when you married me.”
“That’s true, oh user of big words. Well. I guess we all have our flaws.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Very funny. How about this. I set the table, and you serve this amazing feast you’ve made for us.”
“It might not be fancy,” he said, picking up the plastic spoon from the counter to stir the mac and cheese, “but it’s warm and its filling. Comfort food, my grandmother used to say.”
“Your gran was right. This is just what we need. Did you see the weather outside?”
“Yup,” he said, absently rubbing at the line of the scar on his forehead. Ever since recovering from his near-death experience that scar had paled until it was hardly noticeable, but it still bothered him whenever it was going to rain or snow or anything like that. “It’s getting worse. I’ve already called in an extra patrol for tonight for when the car accidents start.”
“Are you expecting a lot of accidents?”
“First snow of the year, everybody forgets how to drive.”
Darcy set three places at the small kitchen table. It made her feel good inside to have them all together, as a family. So many times there were things that could have gone horribly wrong, one way or the other, and the story would have been written very differently if they had. Now she could look forward to what the next chapter would bring. Just the fact that she didn’t know, made the story more enjoyable.
When she was filling glasses of milk for everyone Tiptoe came jumping up on one of the chairs, meowing at her. Darcy scratched under the cat’s chin, but then gently lifted her down to the floor. “No cats at the table while we’re eating. Sorry.”
Tiptoe meowed again, and went to the doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room. She sat there, looking back at Darcy.
“Where’s your dad?” Darcy asked her. “Where’s Smudge?”
“Meow,” the gray cat answered, flicking her ear in a gesture that was so much like Smudge there would never be any doubt whose daughter she was.
“Well. Stay down there and maybe there will be some hotdog bites for you and him. If you’re good.”
“You spoil them,” Jon told her, like he’d told her a thousand times before.
“They’re good cats,” Darcy countered. “They deserve a treat sometimes.”
“Lucky cats.” He winked at her, dishing out creamy piles of cheesy noodles onto each plate.
Darcy leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Well, if you’re good, maybe there will be a treat for you later too.”
“Ooh, hot dogs?” he teased.
“Hmm. We’ll see.” The hotdog buns went in the middle of the table, and then everything was set. “Where’s Colby?”
“She’s probably hiding under her bed,” Jon suggested, “so she doesn’t have to see her parents doing all these public displays of affection.”
“Sure, but I know she’s hungry.” Stepping over next to Tiptoe, leaning out through the arched doorway, she called out loud enough for Colby to hear her upstairs. “Hey, Colby! Dinner!”
There was no answer.
Tiptoe padded across the living room, around the couch, and then halfway up the stairs on the other side. When she got to the middle step she stood there and looked back to Darcy with another little mewl.
Now that was odd.
“Jon?” Darcy said, keeping her eyes on Tiptoe’s pearl green eyes. “I’m going to go get Colby and bring her down.”
“Okay,” he said distractedly, checking his cellphone after a series of buzzes signaled a text message coming in.
Darcy had always had a very special relationship with her cat Smudge. The two of them practically had their own language and when he tried to tell her something, she listened. Tiptoe was still sort of new to the family, and they didn’t have the history that she and Smudge had, but she was learning that Tiptoe was very much like her father. When she needed the people in her life to know something, she found a way to tell them.
The fact that Tiptoe wanted her to come upstairs meant, to Darcy, that she should go find out exactly why Colby was being so quiet. Now.
Tiptoe was true to her name as they rounded the top of the stairs to head down the hallway to the bedrooms. She moved silently on little cat paws, without a sound. Darcy did her best to imitate her because she knew something was up. She didn’t know what, but Tiptoe wouldn’t have come to get her if Colby was only taking a nap. Still, it was hard to imagine her little seven-year-old daughter getting into any kind of real trouble. Especially in the… what? Ten minutes that she’d been up here without parental supervision?
Colby’s bedroom was nearly right across from Darcy’s. It had been a convenient place for the nursery, but now it was causing a few issues for Jon and her when they were alone at night in bed and wanted to, um, not sleep. They were learning what it really meant to be parents. It wasn’t just love and attention your kid might need. Sometimes, it was a little discretion on the part of mom and dad.
The door to her daughter’s room was open just a crack and Darcy stood outside it for a moment, listening. It was very still in there, but she thought maybe she could hear breathing. Slow and steady. Was Colby asleep? It hadn’t been a long day, but growing girls did need sleep and on a lazy Sunday afternoon with snow falling against the windows it was the perfect time—
Darcy opened the door and stopped. Her heart leapt up into her throat. Her hand reached over to the other, feeling along the etched edge of the antique ring she wore there. It was her talisman, always there for her when she felt worried or upset.
Or terrified, like she was now.
Colby wasn’t asleep. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, her hands resting upside down on her knees, her eyes closed. Smudge lay curled up in her lap, his front paws tucked under his body, his head up and his eyes closed.
He was watching over Colby, the same way he would watch over Darcy whenever she did a spirit communication.
Around Colby there were five birthday candles burning. The green ones from the leftmost kitchen cabinet drawer. They were stuck into upturned caps from those little plastic milk containers Colby liked to drink. At least, four of them were. The fifth one had tipped over and its little flame had already scorched a black mark on the polished floor boards.
Darcy’s mind went into overdrive and she almost did a baseball slide as she dove to grab the candle up. The wax was hot, and she blew the flame out quickly so she could drop it before it burned her skin.
She reached out to shake her daughter awak
e, but her hand hesitated over Colby’s shoulder. Being brought out of a spirit communication too suddenly could have devastating results. Even as an adult, Darcy had woken up suddenly from deep trances unable to breathe, with her heart racing. Once, she’d been unable to see for about five minutes.
The thought of what it might do to Colby…
How did this happen? Darcy tried to move past that question but she couldn’t. There shouldn’t be any way that Colby could be doing this. Not at her age. Not without training! It had taken Darcy months to learn how to do this with Aunt Millie teaching her every step of the way. Her daughter had done this all on her own.
Colby was deep in the trance. She was trying to reach through to the other side, or maybe she already had. Darcy recognized the signs of it. The candles. The cat. Her breathing. The way she didn’t respond to her mother’s voice. Darcy needed to do something.
How did this happen?
Smudge opened one eye, and purred.
The candles weren’t necessary for the communication. They just helped focus the practitioner’s mind in this world while their spirit stepped into the next. So, did the presence of something comforting, like a cat. Oh, right. Darcy suddenly knew how to get Colby back from wherever she had gone. Remove one of the things that was anchoring the person to both sides, and they would start to float back into consciousness.
So she reached in and gently picked up Smudge. He felt so frail and thin in her arms. So old. His black and white fur trembled as he stretched, and yawned, and flicked his paw against her arm. When he looked up at her, she could see the excuse in his eyes.
“Oh. You were just watching over her, is that it?”
He blinked. Yes. That was his answer.
Tiptoe came over to them, where Darcy knelt just outside the imaginary line of the candle circle, and put her paw up on Darcy’s leg. When Darcy settled Smudge down next to her, the two of them sniffed each other’s faces, talking to each other on their own level. Darcy had the sneaking suspicion that the two of them had worked together to bring her up here. They must have known that Colby was in over her head.