Once Upon a Witch: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Books 1-3

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Stranger things have happened,” Aunt Tillie said, adopting a soothing tone. “Don’t worry, dear. He’ll be back. He’s a man. They have to figure things out on their own. And, because he’s a man, it will take him twice as long as it would take a woman.”

  Bay didn’t look convinced. “How can you be sure?”

  “If he’s not, I’ll curse him until he wishes he made the right decision from the beginning.” Aunt Tillie’s answer was simple. “They always come back, dear. We’re like a fine wine. We’re addictive – and he’s already addicted. He won’t know until he starts to go through withdrawal. It won’t take long, though.”

  “I hope it hurts,” Thistle said grimly.

  “It will,” Aunt Tillie promised. “You can be sure of that.”

  The other Landon was halfway down the hill, his head hanging low. He glanced back twice, but Bay was already gone. The real Landon and I were the only ones left.

  “I am addicted to you, Bay,” Landon said, and when I risked a glance at him I found his eyes swimming in tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re not to blame,” I said. “Neither one of us was to blame in this situation. I didn’t know you well enough to tell you the entire truth, and you didn’t know me well enough not to think I was crazy.”

  Landon barked out a hoarse laugh. “I’m still sorry.”

  I leaned forward and rested my head against his chest. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Landon said. “I should’ve had faith in you. My heart kept telling me to stay. My head is … dumb … sometimes, though.”

  “I like your head,” I said, pressing my eyes shut as the colors started blurring. “I want to go home.”

  “We’re going home,” Landon vowed. “If I have to track down Aunt Tillie myself and strangle her until she gives in, we’re going home. Enough is enough.”

  People talk about revenge as if it’s a bad thing. It’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. If people don’t fear you, you’re not doing your job right. I’m the best employee in the world for a reason. It’s because I never skimp on the revenge.

  – Aunt Tillie explaining to Bay why fear is better than respect in the workplace

  Eighteen

  We arrived on the kitchen stools moments later, my head still pressed against Landon’s chest. It was almost as if Aunt Tillie was doing us a kindness – well, for her, that is – when she gave us a soft landing after the gut-wrenching prior memory.

  “Oh, good, we’re in the kitchen,” Landon said, frowning when he found himself staring into my mother’s troubled eyes. “Hi, Winnie. Can you see me?”

  Mom went about stuffing cabbage rolls as if no one else was in the room.

  “I guess that answers that question,” Landon said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Landon,” I said, shaking my head. “I already knew that happened. I didn’t forget it.”

  “That doesn’t mean we needed to see it again,” Landon complained. “We need to find Aunt Tillie. I’m done with this.”

  I reached across the counter and retrieved a strip of bacon from the plate there. I wordlessly handed it to him as a peace offering. In my head I knew this wasn’t my fault. My poor heart, though, couldn’t help but flop with guilt. He deserved better than this.

  Landon took the bacon and offered me a genuine smile. “Do you think I can really eat this?”

  “There’s no harm in trying,” I replied. “You missed out on your cake earlier.”

  Landon bit into the bacon, sighing happily as he began to chew.

  “Good?”

  Landon nodded, his grin widening. He could bounce back faster than almost anyone. I loved that about him. I grabbed the plate and slid it in front of him so he could munch, and focused on my mother.

  Winnie Winchester can be frightening when she wants to be. She’s formidable, and if you ask my aunts they would call her bossy. She is bossy. We’re all bossy in our own way. There was nothing frightening about my mother now, though. Now she looked … terrified.

  “Do we know anything yet?” Twila asked, walking into the kitchen with her hands clasped in front of her. “Is there any word?”

  Mom shook her head. “She’s still missing.”

  “When is this?” I asked, confused. “It has to be after you left but before now. Who is missing?”

  “I think you are,” Landon said, his mouth full of bacon. I considered correcting his table manners, but that was so out of the realm of necessity right now I pushed the thought out of my mind. “I think this is when you fell off the horse and were knocked out.”

  “Oh, Floyd the pesky poltergeist,” I grumbled. “I hated that douche.”

  “Me, too,” Landon said.

  “Bay will be fine.” Aunt Tillie sat in a chair in the corner. I didn’t see her the first time I scanned the room because she was so quiet. She was never quiet. That had to explain how I overlooked her. “She’s a Winchester. She’s tough.”

  “You don’t know that,” Mom said, situating a stuffed cabbage roll on a cookie sheet. “The last time anyone saw her she was on a horse. The horse spooked and took off. It showed up back at the barn two hours ago. Bay is nowhere to be found. She could be dead for all we know.”

  “You have such an upbeat way of looking at life,” Aunt Tillie deadpanned.

  Mom was generally the picture of patience when it came to dealing with Aunt Tillie – except for those rare times when she completely lost it and threatened to join the circus – so when she slammed her hands on the counter it took everyone by surprise. “My daughter is missing, Aunt Tillie,” she seethed. “It might not be important to you, but it’s important to me.”

  “Did I say it wasn’t important?” Aunt Tillie challenged, furrowing her brow.

  “No.”

  “Then don’t put words in my mouth,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “I have faith Bay is fine because I know she’s strong. You’re sitting here thinking the worst before we have any reason to believe anything of the sort. Stop being such a defeatist.”

  “Stop telling me what to do!” Mom exploded.

  “Okay, I think you need some air,” Twila said, wrapping an arm around Mom’s waist. “Why don’t we go for a walk outside?”

  “I have to stick close to the phone,” Mom argued. “When we get news on Bay … .”

  “I’m here by the phone,” Aunt Tillie said. “I’ll answer it.”

  “Unless you’re too busy plotting world domination,” Mom shot back.

  “Wow! Take a pill, Winnie,” Aunt Tillie ordered. “Bay will be fine. Any second now, Landon is going to walk into the room with his chest puffed out as if he discovered gold or something, and say he found her. Then he’s going to expect us to fill him full of food and fawn all over him.”

  “Hey,” Landon protested, his mouth dropping open. “I don’t do any of that.”

  I handed him another slice of bacon. “Shh. I find this fascinating.”

  “That’s because we’re really not in it,” Landon said. “That makes it easier for us to watch.”

  “Hey, after the last memory, this one is a breeze,” I said. “Now eat your bacon and let me listen. I want to see whether Mom puts the fear of the Goddess in Aunt Tillie.”

  “Fine,” Landon said, biting into his bacon. “This is really good. Do you want some?”

  “I’ll wait for real food.”

  “Winnie, let me take you outside,” Twila prodded. “I promise we’ll find Bay. You’ll feel better when you get some air.”

  “I don’t want air,” Mom hissed. “I want Bay back in this house right now!”

  The kitchen door swung open and another Landon walked into the room. His long hair was out of place, and he looked haunted. I glanced at my Landon and found he didn’t seem surprised by his appearance.

  “Did you find Bay?” Mom asked.

  “No,” the other Landon gritted out. “We can’t find any sign of her. Chief
Terry and Marcus are still out there, but it’s getting dark and they say they can only keep looking for another five minutes.”

  “But … .” A tear slipped down Mom’s face. “She could be dead.”

  “She’s not dead,” the other Landon insisted. “She’s … lost.”

  “Come on, Winnie,” Twila said, pulling Mom toward the door. “Let’s get some air.”

  I watched Twila practically wrestle my mother outside, the door slamming behind them, before turning my full attention to the grim Landon standing on the other side of the counter. He didn’t even glance in the direction of the bacon.

  “This is really serious,” I said. “There’s bacon right there and you’re not even going for it.”

  “No one wants to eat when the person they love is missing,” Landon said, grabbing another slice of bacon.

  “You’re eating and I’m missing,” I pointed out.

  “No, my Bay already came home after scaring the life out of me,” Landon said. “His Bay is … out there somewhere.”

  “What’s he thinking?”

  “That he should’ve taken better care of her,” Landon answered.

  “Oh, Landon.” I grabbed his hand. “I was fine. Well, I wasn’t fine. I had been thrown by a horse and knocked unconscious. Then I witnessed a horrible poltergeist play. Then I had to walk through the woods for what felt like forever to get to the Dandridge.

  “The good news is that I’m probably already on my way home,” I continued. “I don’t see Thistle. That’s probably because she’s picking me up.”

  “He doesn’t know that,” Landon said, inclining his chin in his doppelganger’s direction. “He’s wondering whether he lost you for good. He’s wondering whether they’ll ever find you. He’s wondering whether you’re wandering alone and somehow got amnesia … or someone took you … or maybe even whether you’re dead and his heart is about to break.”

  “There’s that poet thing again,” I said, rubbing his cheek.

  Landon offered me a warm smile. “He’s about to get lucky. I still thank whatever power is out there that I got lucky that day. Things could’ve gone a heckuva lot worse.”

  I leaned over so I could rub my nose against his cheek. “Even though Bay is out there – and she’s really ticked off because she was thrown from a horse and no one seems to care – she knows you’re looking for her. She’s worried that you’re worried.”

  “I know,” Landon said, kissing the tip of my nose. “Surprisingly, this memory doesn’t bother me as much as the last one – even though the stakes are much higher.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “Watch and see,” Landon said, pointing toward the chair where Aunt Tillie sat. She looked troubled, almost as if she couldn’t properly express her worry until she was sure Mom was gone and couldn’t bear witness to it. The desperately worried Landon next to the sink was another thing entirely.

  “Do you think she’s dead?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you think she’ll die if we don’t find her tonight?”

  “No.” The other Landon gripped the towel on the edge of the sink so hard his knuckles turned white. Aunt Tillie’s questions obviously bothered him, but he refused to lose his temper.

  “Do you blame yourself?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  The other Landon swiveled quickly, fury on his face. When he saw Aunt Tillie’s sympathetic eyes, though, his anger fled as his shoulders sank. “I should’ve been with her.”

  “You can’t be with her every moment of every day,” Aunt Tillie countered. “Bay is an adult. She can take care of herself. That was true when you met her, and even though it seems like you have to run around and save her every five minutes, that’s not the case.”

  “Are you telling me you’re not worried about her?”

  “I’m very worried about her,” Aunt Tillie replied. “The thing is, if it was Clove out there, I would cast a hundred spells to find her because Clove is more likely to end up dead in a ditch than the other two.

  “If it was Thistle out there, I would let her spend the night thinking about all of the horrible things she’s done,” she continued. “She could use a little humility, that one. She’s a rotten pain in the behind most days, but she wouldn’t die in a ditch.”

  “And Bay?”

  “Bay will be fine,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I have faith that Bay can do anything she sets her mind to. I know you do, too. It’s hard to be the one left behind … the one waiting … but she’ll be home soon.”

  “I hope so,” the other Landon said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just … really need to find her. I don’t know these woods. We have no idea what direction the horse ran. If she’s out there, why hasn’t she called?”

  “Maybe her cell phone doesn’t work where she’s at,” Aunt Tillie suggested. “Maybe it broke when she fell. Maybe she’s doing something else … or helping someone else … or even on her way here right now. We simply don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I can’t take this.”

  I glanced at my Landon, who appeared to be watching the scene with blasé detachment. I knew otherwise, though. “You know I’m okay, right? I’ll be here soon.”

  Landon chuckled as he reached over and captured my hand. “I know. That was a terrifying few hours, though. You knew where you were. You knew you were okay. Me, though, I felt helpless. That’s not something I like feeling.”

  “No one likes feeling that,” I said. “I’ll be back soon, though. I promise.”

  “Maybe I should go out and find Bay,” Aunt Tillie offered, climbing out of her chair. “I think everyone would feel better if I led the search party.”

  The other Landon made a face that would’ve been comical under different circumstances. “Really? You want me to let you wander off in the dark and find the woman I … my Bay? I think that’s the queen of bad ideas.”

  “You don’t know,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “I’m good in a crisis.”

  “I’m sure you are,” alternative Landon said, fighting to keep his tone even. “You’re not leaving, though. We need you here to keep everyone together. If she doesn’t come home tonight … .”

  The sound of the back door opening caused everyone to shift in that direction. Mom and Twila strode in, Marnie close on their heels.

  “What did Thistle say exactly?” Mom asked, her face flushed. “Did she say Bay was okay?”

  “Bay?” The other Landon’s face brightened with hope. “Did you find Bay?”

  “She called, and Thistle is on her way to pick her up out at the Dandridge,” Marnie answered. “I don’t know a lot of details. Bay was thrown from her horse and was confused when she came to. She’s okay, though. She’ll be here soon.”

  “She’s going to need food,” Mom said, wrapping her apron around her waist. “She’s probably starving.” There’s no malady so bad – or terror so large, for that matter – that food can’t make it better in the Winchester world.

  “That’s a good idea,” Marnie said. “We have her favorite cake. I just need to frost it. We have her other favorite foods, too.”

  “Yes, that will make everything perfect,” Aunt Tillie deadpanned. “I’m sure stuffing her full of food will make her forget she was thrown from a horse and woke up alone.”

  “You’re not helping,” other Landon snapped, extending a finger. “Whatever you’re plotting over there, keep it to yourself. For now, this is about Bay. If they want to cook her favorite foods, who are you to argue?”

  Aunt Tillie’s mouth dropped open. “What did you just say to me?”

  “We made your favorite, too,” Mom said, glancing around. “Oh, here. We made a big batch of bacon for you.”

  Mom grabbed the plate from in front of my Landon and shoved it in the direction of the other Landon. He took it, but didn’t immediately eat.

  “I swear there was more bacon on that plate a few minutes ago,” Twila said. “Did you eat it, Aunt Tillie?”

 
“Yes, I’ve decided to be a bacon thief in my off time,” Aunt Tillie said. She was back to her snarky form. “I didn’t think we had enough other things going on today, so I decided to add a second career.”

  “What’s your first?” Marnie challenged.

  “Annoying you,” Aunt Tillie replied.

  “Well, you’re aces at that,” Marnie said, unruffled. “I’ll get the cake and … .”

  The sound of a car honking at the front of the inn drew everyone’s attention, and they all rushed toward the door. I could hear Landon’s family – they were staying at the inn so they could get to know me. They were excitedly talking in the other room.

  “Bay,” other Landon said, yanking the door open. “Everyone stay calm. I’ll get her and the rest of you wait here.”

  “Not on your life,” Mom said, following him out of the room. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  “And it’s a happy ending,” I said, once it was just the two of us – er, three of us – again. Aunt Tillie remained in her chair, her gaze trained on the door. Finally she shifted her eyes in our direction. That’s when I realized she could see me. “Seriously? Could you see us the whole time?”

  “Of course. It’s my mind.”

  “We want out of here right now,” Landon demanded, swiveling on the stool and hopping down. He purposefully moved in Aunt Tillie’s direction. “I don’t want one word of complaint from you, Aunt Tillie. Enough is enough. We’re tired and we want to go home.”

  “I’m not keeping you here,” Aunt Tillie protested. “You’re doing that yourselves. You can leave whenever you want.”

  “Not without you we can’t,” I argued.

  “That’s your problem,” Aunt Tillie said, glowering at Landon as he reached for her arm. “I’m not ready to go.”

  The room tilted, tossing me from the stool. I held my hands out and braced for impact, but I didn’t hit the linoleum as I expected. Instead we shifted into another memory, and I vowed this would be the last one, no matter what.