The Witch of Roan Mountain

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The Witch of Roan Mountain Page 7

by Blaire Edens


  He was waiting and lifted Granny into the front seat of his Explorer. “You comfortable?” he asked, tucking the blanket tightly around her legs. “It’s a long ride.”

  Maeve stood to the side and marveled how such a large man could be so gentle. It was one of the things she’d always loved about him.

  “I’m set,” Granny said. “Ready to get home.”

  Maeve hopped into the backseat with Granny’s things. The small scooter that would allow her to get around until the cast came off was propped on the other seat. Campbell drove slowly, taking the curves at a lazy pace. By the time they got the cabin, it was full-dark.

  “Let me get the lights on,” Campbell said. “And then I’ll come get you.”

  Maeve breathed a sigh of relief. With everything she’d seen and heard in the past few days, she was more than a little spooked. She didn’t like going into the house alone, especially after dark. Although she’d only seen Delphine once, she’d felt her many times, not to mention seen the long-dead woman’s handwriting in her notebook.

  The porch light cast a yellow glow across the yard. It was cozy, homey and Maeve realized how much she’d missed this place. It was, and would always be, home.

  After Campbell helped Granny to her favorite chair, he got a fire started and banished the chill. “Y’all alright if I go?”

  “We’re fine, honey. Thanks again for bringing us home. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anything you need, you call me,” he said, looking between Maeve and Granny. He winked at Maeve when he thought Granny wasn’t looking.

  When Campbell left, the cabin seemed empty. Without his large presence, Granny and Maeve were quiet for a long time both of them focused on the reds and yellows of the fire in the grate.

  “Need anything? Maybe a cup of tea?” Maeve asked.

  “That would be very nice,” Granny said. “Chamomile to soothe my nerves.”

  Maeve brewed two cups of the tea and handed one to Granny. “I put a spoonful of honey in it, just the way you like.”

  Granny took a long sip and smiled. “Tastes just like summer. Did you learn anything more about Delphine?”

  Maeve pulled her notebook from her tote bag and flipped to the most recent page of notes. “Campbell might be one of her descendants.”

  Granny’s eyes went wide. “She had a child?”

  Maeve nodded. “It sure looks that way. Reading between the lines, I’d guess she was pregnant with Jenks’ baby before he was killed. They held off on hanging her until she delivered the baby.”

  The old woman took a sip of her tea and looked into the fire. “Does Campbell know?”

  “He’s known for a long time. That’s why he doesn’t want anyone to mention her name.”

  “It’s a powerful thing. To be branded before you’re even born. To be related to someone who’s already brought shame on your name.”

  Maeve certainly understood that. She’d based her whole life, every single choice down to what color she painted her toenails, on being the opposite of her mother. Growing up in a tiny place, where not only everyone knew each other but were most likely related, a mother who was a drug-addict and petty thief was the kiss of death.

  As a teenager, Maeve had studied harder, practiced more, and dressed more modestly so that no one would ever compare her to her mom.

  “You know a little about how that feels don’t you, honey?” Granny had always been a fantastic mind-reader.

  Maeve nodded. “I do. It’s hard to grow up that way, but with Campbell, it’s generations back. No one could possibly care.”

  “It’s like a mustard stain on a shirt. Even if you scrub it out, every time you put on that shirt, you look for the stain. You think everyone is staring at the shadow of where it used to be.”

  “So you think it’s all in his head?”

  Granny nodded and placed her mug on the side table. “And yours, too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Granny reached over and took Maeve’s hand in hers. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone but yourself.”

  “It’s almost as if he’s scared that if I find out for sure that he’s related to her, he won’t be a good person anymore.”

  “That boy has a lot on his mind these days. You’ll have to cut him some slack.”

  Maeve shrugged. “Seems to me his life is pretty stress-free.”

  Granny chuckled. “It’s anything but. The love of his life is back after years of him wishing for her. That’s enough to make anyone crazy.”

  “I’m not the love of his life. We just dated in high school.”

  “Who are you kidding? I may be old, but I was young once. I see the way the two of you look at each other. My leg is broken. My eyes work just fine.”

  “It would never work between us.”

  “Keep telling yourself that. The two of you were meant for each other but you’re the only two who can’t see it.”

  Maeve had loved Campbell once. Now, she wasn’t so sure. There was plenty of heat. No doubt about that but her life was in Atlanta now. She wasn’t the same girl who’d left Avery County ten years ago. She’d changed into a career-driven woman who was focused on living an independent life. Maybe it wasn’t exactly fulfilling but she could change that if she could just find a thread to grab onto.

  She’d gone to Clemson to prove she was smart enough to get a college education. She’d gone to law school at Wake Forest to prove she could make something of herself. While she loved the research and the planning of a case, she didn’t love being a lawyer. Not really.

  “Sometimes I wish I’d just stayed here. Maybe gone to college someplace closer.”

  “You had to get out of here. I understood that.”

  “I should’ve come back sooner.”

  “You had to test your own mettle. I didn’t get to be eighty-five years old without knowing a thing or two about how people work. You needed to do something on your own. You did. Now you can decide what you really want in your life.”

  What do I really want?

  Maeve imagined going back to Atlanta. Parking her shiny Volvo into a space in a large parking garage every morning, walking into a sleek, modern office in a tailored suit, and going to lunch at places that served things like hummus and Sriracha. It wasn’t an appealing image.

  Then she imagined living here, in Avery County, again. She had enough money to buy or build a small house. She could be close to Granny. Close to Campbell. Enjoying the seasons, the clean mountain air. Growing a small garden.

  But what would she do when her savings ran out?

  Maeve sighed.

  “You don’t have to decide everything tonight. You can work on it tomorrow,” Granny said.

  “I just like knowing where I’m going.”

  “Sometimes, in order to find a new road, you need to be lost for a while.”

  *****

  “Want to go get the Volvo? It’s my day off,” Campbell said. He’d called the landline and spent fifteen minutes talking to Granny before he asked for Maeve. “The ground is finally dry enough.”

  Maeve and Granny had been stuck in the cabin for several days. The weather had been clear and cold with a brisk wind that blew around the sides of the cabin with a fierce howl. Maeve was itching to get to town and do some more research. They were out of toilet paper, too.

  “Sure. I’d love that but I hate to leave Granny alone for too long, and I really need to do some shopping.”

  “I’ll take you to get the car and then I’ll stay with her while you go to town.”

  “Sounds like a plan. See you soon.”

  After she hung up, Maeve changed into jeans and a fleece jacket. She tried to ignore the excited buzz humming through her body. She hadn’t seen Campbell since the night Granny came home from the hospital and she missed him.

  He pulled up at half past ten and walked into the house without even knocking. “How you feeling today, Granny?”

  Granny used her scooter to move from the kitchen
, where she was attempting to make jelly a second time, into the living room. “Feeling much better,” she said. “You want coffee?”

  “I’d love a cup,” he said. “It feels more like November than October out there.”

  Maeve handed the wooden spoon she was using to stir the sugary mixture to Granny and grabbed a mug from one of the hooks under the cabinets and poured him a cup. “Black?” she asked.

  He nodded. When she handed it to him, their fingers touched. Maeve looked up and their eyes met. “It’s hot,” she said, flustered.

  “Don’t I know that,” he said without breaking eye contact.

  Maeve stared at his lips, remembered the searing kiss he’d given her on the porch, recalled the feel of his skin next to hers with only the rain between them. She shivered involuntarily and he grinned.

  She looked down at the worn hardwood floors and tried to coax her body into ignoring the charge sparking between them.

  After chatting with Granny and finishing his coffee, Campbell and Maeve got into his Explorer and headed toward Sugar Mountain.

  “I brought some sand in case we need it.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t even think of that.”

  “You’ve been gone a long time.”

  Maeve nodded. “I have.”

  “Given any thought to where you’ll go after Granny gets well enough to be on her own again?”

  “A little but I don’t have much direction at the moment. I’m not sure I want to be a lawyer anymore.”

  Campbell bit his lip, something he’d always done when he wanted to ask something but didn’t have the courage.

  “I just don’t think I’m cut out for it,” Maeve said. “I didn’t go into it for the right reasons.”

  “Why did you become a lawyer?”

  “To prove I was worth something, to prove I wasn’t my mother.”

  He reached across the arm rest and took her hand in his. “You’re nothing like her. You never have been. I’ve been trying to tell you that for years.

  “I know. I guess it was just something I had to figure out myself,” she said. “But thanks for saying it again. I needed to hear that.”

  He pulled up next to the Volvo. “Got your keys?”

  She held them up. “I’m surprised I didn’t lose them after—” She caught herself just in time. To her surprise, Campbell grinned.

  “I’m surprised, too.” He laughed. “That was pretty hot.”

  “Smoking,” she said.

  He leaned across the cab of the car and kissed her. “Want to try out the backseat? For old time sake?”

  The offer was almost too tempting to refuse but they hadn’t talked about what the sex meant.

  “It was fantastic,” she began. “But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  “What idea is that?” He tossed his sunglasses on the dash of the car and looked over at her.

  “I probably won’t stay, Campbell and I know you’ll never leave. It’s an impossible situation and I’m afraid if we continue,” she paused. “I don’t want either of us to get hurt again.”

  “That’s impossible,” he said. “I’ve loved you for so long, Maeve. I’ll never stop. I’ve tried and I can’t give you up. Whether you’re here or whether you’re in Timbuktu. I can’t help the way I feel about you. I’ll take what time I can get with you.”

  The admission was so honest, so forthright, that it did something to her heart. She felt it swell, like it was too big for her chest.

  “I don’t deserve that, Campbell.”

  He smiled. “Maybe not but there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  She leaned across the arm rest and kissed him. It was soft, with the tenderness of a first kiss. It was like discovering him all over again. He kissed her back, his lips as light as a feather against hers.

  He wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled her closer. “I love you, Maeve,” he whispered. “I’ll never stop.”

  His green eyes were clear and she read the emotion in them. She was pulled toward him in a way she never had been before. She climbed across the center console and sat on his lap, facing him. “I love you, too, Campbell.”

  He pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was urgent, demanding. His tongue darted into her mouth, driving the passion building inside her to a boiling point. He stuck his hands under her shirt and unhooked the clasp between her breasts. Cupping one breast in each hand, he kissed her more deeply.

  Maeve shrugged out of the shirt and tossed it into the backseat. “Let’s try out the front seat,” she whispered into his ear.

  Using the button on the side of his seat, he moved the driver’s seat all the way back. “I’m game,” he said, burying his face between her breasts. The heat of his mouth, his tongue flickering along the underside of her breasts felt terrific. She wove her fingers through his hair and leaned back, pushing her hips forward so they rested on his erection. With every movement, she was getting wetter and more aroused.

  “Jesus, Maeve, you are one delicious woman.”

  He claimed her lips again. She moved against him again and he moaned. “I’ve got to get out of these pants.”

  “No time. Just unzip.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You are one dirty little minx.”

  “Unzip or lose me forever,” she said.

  She moved one leg so that he could loosen his pants and unzip. As soon as he did, she slid onto his cock and leaned forward. “Mmmm, that’s better,” she said. He filled her up completely. As they began to move, her clit brushed against the rough fabric of his pants and she loved the sensation.

  He took one nipple in his mouth and toyed with the other one using his thumb and forefinger. Maeve rocked her body, achieving the perfect rhythm. Campbell allowed her to set the pace, moving in perfect concert with her.

  His hands on her and the hardness of his body pushed her over the edge. She rode him to her climax and nuzzled her face into the curve of his neck.

  “I’m not finished with you,” he whispered into her hair. “It’s my turn.”

  He thrust into her, lifting both of them off the seat. She felt the rock-hard muscles in his thigh pressing against hers and it made her hot all over again. Maeve grabbed onto his shoulders and allowed him to pump her up and down until he came.

  When he finished, he collapsed onto the seat and exhaled. “Why the hell would you want to leave this?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Love might have been enough if Widow Dillingham hadn’t died. Even if they couldn’t prove it was the pox that killed her, she was just as dead. Her death was a gift to that fire and brimstone Preacher Veneable, and he used it to place the guilt squarely on my shoulders. By that time, he was preaching on the dangers of consorting with the devil every Sunday. I never went to his services but I knew. I could see it in the cold eyes of everyone in town, the way they stared at me as if I were pure evil instead of a victim of circumstance.

  That’s all I was. A woman trapped between choices her father made for her and her heart. A fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

  It’s hard to keep any secrets in these mountains so I knew my name and words like “witch” and “devil” and “demon” were being whispered in every house, every church, and even the one-room school.

  I was branded.

  When the widow died, I knew I was in serious trouble. I’d missed my monthly flow by then, and I knew that Jenks baby was growing inside me. I didn’t tell him. Part of me hoped I was wrong, the other part of me was thrilled with the idea of always having a part of him with me. No matter what happened. No matter how they drove us apart.

  I knew they would.

  I wasn’t strong enough to leave and I wasn’t strong enough to stay.

  My whole life, and even after, was about being trapped somewhere in-between.

  *****

  After a few days of trying to track down a birth certificate for Delphine or her baby, Maeve realized she’d been looking in the wrong courthouse.

  “Any birth certific
ates for them will be in Mitchell County. Want to ride over there with me tomorrow?”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight,” he said. “It’s my day off.”

  The County Clerk was just unlocking the front door when Campbell and Maeve arrived. “You ready for this?” Maeve asked.

  Campbell exhaled. “I’m ready.”

  Avery County, the last county to be recognized in the state of North Carolina, was created from parts of the neighboring counties of Mitchell and Watauga in 1911. In order to find the birth records from Delphine’s time, they’d traveled to Spruce Pine, the county seat of Mitchell County. The Courthouse was a white, two-story, cast stone building that caught every ray of the morning sun. Copper mums in clay pots lined the steps.

  They checked the directory for vital records department and headed down the hall to Suite 4.

  After searching an index and submitting a request for several volumes, they headed to a table and waited for the books of birth certificates to arrive.

  “There might not be any record of the birth. If we can’t find it, it doesn’t mean she didn’t have a child,” Campbell said.

  “You’re right, it doesn’t but we have to look.”

  The clerk placed four dusty, leather bound volumes on the center of the table. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Each of them took two of the books and started flipping through the pages. Some of the handwriting was difficult to read and some of the copies were so faded they were useless. After nearly two hours, Maeve was ready to throw in the towel.

  “I don’t think we’re going to find it.”

  Campbell exhaled loudly. “Me, either. I’m almost finished with this one. If it’s not here, I’m ready to call it.”

  She rose and stretched. She’d been so sure they’d find something, but so far they’d seen nothing that even came close to what they were looking for.

  “Wait,” Campbell said. “This might be it.”

  Maeve peered over his shoulder. “Baby girl, born to prisoner in the Mitchell County Jail. It doesn’t list the names of the parents but the date is right and so is the age of the mother.” More than the sum of the details, the document felt right. There was a vibration to it.

 

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