“Um, I wasn’t listening all that hard,” Landon admitted. “I wanted to hear that nothing big was going on, and when he admitted that I kind of tuned him out.”
“That’s ‘The Man’ for you,” Aunt Tillie complained, shaking her head. “He only cares about himself.”
“What was in that bag again?” Landon challenged, causing Aunt Tillie to scowl.
“You’re definitely bucking for the top spot on my list,” Aunt Tillie grumbled. “Maybe I need to make two lists so I can have two top spots. One for men and one for women.”
“Yes, well, as long as you punish me with a bacon-flavored girlfriend, I’m fine with that,” Landon said, averting his gaze when I scalded him with a dirty look. He was well aware of my disdain for the bacon curse. Aunt Tillie was a powerful witch and could punish us any way she saw fit. She often let embarrassment serve as her magical yardstick when it came to payback, and she was well aware of Landon’s adoration when it came to the bacon curse. “In fact, it would be a great weekend for you to punish me if you’re in a vengeful mood.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Aunt Tillie said dryly, her eyes contemplative as she pondered something. “What kinds of things did Chief Terry say were happening around town?”
“Why?” Landon was focused on his pot roast and didn’t bother looking up. “You didn’t do anything, did you?”
“No, but I’m curious. I like a good laugh at other people’s expense.”
“I’ll vouch for that,” Thistle offered.
“You’ll vouch for it again this weekend if you’re not careful, mouth,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “You’re seriously on my last nerve.”
Thistle waved off the admonishment. “I’ve been standing on that nerve since I was five. It’s clearly not going anywhere. It’s like a cockroach. It will survive anything.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely at the top of the list,” Aunt Tillie spat.
I decided to wade into the snark bog before things could get out of hand. “I heard another one when I was grabbing coffee at the bakery,” I supplied. “Mrs. Gunderson said that Tatiana Pratt was walking around in a tiara and proclaiming herself a princess. That’s not dangerous or anything, but apparently she refused to take off the tiara and said that princesses don’t serve food at diners.”
“Who is Tatiana Pratt?” Landon asked.
“She’s a teenager who works at the diner,” Aunt Marnie answered. “She’s always had a princess fetish since she was a small kid. It’s beyond annoying.”
“Clove had a princess fetish, too,” Thistle pointed out, referring to our absent third cousin, who abstained from dinner for the evening. She was Marnie’s daughter. “You bought her a tiara for Christmas one year and she wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks.”
“Okay, Thistle, now you’re on my list,” Marnie muttered, shaking her head. “Why do you always have to be such a pain?”
“She was born that way,” Aunt Tillie replied, reaching for a roll. “Is that all? Have you heard any other weird stories?”
Something niggled the back of my brain as I turned my full attention to Aunt Tillie. “Why are you so interested in these stories?”
“Because they make me laugh.”
Aunt Tillie answered the question almost immediately, but there was something off about the way she avoided eye contact. I couldn’t help but be suspicious – she’s Aunt Tillie, after all – but I could hardly accuse her of something, especially when I wasn’t sure anything was actually going on.
“But … .”
Aunt Tillie cut me off with a wave of her hand. “Someone pass me more wine. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
She wasn’t the only one.
LANDON PASSED out fairly quickly once he stripped down to his boxer shorts and climbed into bed. He left his Explorer at the inn – proclaiming himself too drunk to drive – and we walked to the guesthouse despite the icy chill hanging over the night sky. We could claim the Explorer in the morning, so it wasn’t a big deal, other than the freezing walk, of course. I was mildly disappointed that he lost consciousness so quickly, but I didn’t begrudge him his rest. I was certain he would make it up to me in the morning.
I settled in bed next to him, smiling as he instinctively cuddled closer and rested a hand on my abdomen. He would sleep hard. I could tell by the even tone of his breathing. He’d been gone most of the week for work, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he dealt with something serious while away. We talked every night on the phone and he was jovial and pleasant, but suspicion stalked me when I recognized his exhaustion.
I traced the lines on his hand as he slept, staring at the ceiling as I willed sleep to claim me. Instead, a flickering shadow on the other side of the window caught my attention. I shrugged it off as the wind rustling a bush until it happened a second time.
I was careful not to wake Landon when I got out of bed, shuffling to the window and peering outside to see if I could catch sight of whatever was causing the movement. I scanned the ground and immediate foliage first, coming up empty. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw another flash of movement and jerked my eyes to the area over by Aunt Tillie’s special garden.
There, silhouetted against the moon, was a dark figure. It flew back and forth, too big to be a bird and too small to be an airplane. I squinted as I tried to make out identifying features, my heart dropping when I realized what I saw.
I turned immediately to wake Landon, but he ignored my hand when it landed on his shoulder.
“Landon, there’s someone outside.”
“The door is locked,” he murmured, his eyes screwed shut. “It’s probably Marcus.”
“No, I mean there’s someone outside … flying.” I swallowed hard as I gritted out the last word. It sounded ridiculous, even to my own ears.
“Maybe Aunt Tillie had a broom in her bag,” Landon said, his voice thick with sleep. “She’s probably pretending to be Harry Potter or something.”
“But … .” I darted a look out the window again, frowning at the now-empty sky above the field.
“Come to bed, Bay,” Landon prodded. “There’s nothing out there. You probably had a dream.”
I knew that wasn’t the case, but I did as he asked, rolling to rest my chin on his chest. “I swear someone was out there flying.”
“Hmm. I’ll send you flying in the morning.” He tightened his grip on me. “Sleep, sweetie. We’ll have bacon and talk about it in the morning.”
Sometimes I wish I could cook, because you’re a little obsessed with food. Then I realize that I get the best of both worlds when my mother cooks. You get the food and I reap the rewards of your digestive euphoria – and occasional food coma. There’s no going wrong in that scenario.
– Bay explaining to Landon why she never learned to cook
Three
“Morning.”
Landon watched me with heavy-lidded eyes as I woke. He was snuggly and in no hurry to leave the bed, his hand heavy on my hip. Despite my very busy dreams – a multitude of men flying over Aunt Tillie’s pot field, where she used marijuana as a form of Kryptonite to bring them down like hobbled birds – I’d slept fairly hard and wasn’t in a hurry to greet the day.
“Good morning.”
Landon brushed his lips against my forehead and stretched before returning his arm to my waist. “I feel so much better after a good night’s sleep. For some reason I don’t sleep well when I’m away from you.”
I lifted my eyebrows, surprised. He’s mushy when he wants to be, but rarely starts out the day with anything out than bacon worship and sexual innuendo. “Is that what’s bothering you?”
“What makes you think something is bothering me?”
“Because you were exhausted last night.” I saw no reason to deflect or pretend I wasn’t worried. “You drank more than usual and then you couldn’t wait to get into bed. You didn’t even try to play any tickling games.”
Landon made an odd sound in the back of his throat,
something between a snort and a groan. “I love you dearly, woman, but it drives me crazy when you make something out of nothing.”
“I’m not making something out of nothing. I … .”
“Shh.” Landon pressed his finger to my lips. “I was tired, Bay. I didn’t sleep well while I was away. That’s another reason I’ll be happy when this move is complete. Then every night I’ll sleep well because I’ll be with you.”
It was a sweet sentiment, yet I couldn’t completely discard my misgivings. “Won’t you have to stay in a hotel while on a case at times?”
Landon nodded. “That will be the exception rather than the rule.”
“Your commute will be two hours each day,” I pointed out.
“Oh, geez.” Landon pinched the bridge of his nose as he rolled away from me and stared at the ceiling. “Are we going to have a serious discussion to start off our pajama weekend? That’s so not how I envisioned this visit going.”
“I’m just worried about you,” I admitted after a beat. “You were so tired last night you didn’t even care that someone was flying over Aunt Tillie’s special field.” I refrained from calling it a “pot” field because Landon’s eye twitched whenever I openly referred to my great-aunt breaking the law.
“What?” Landon knit his eyebrows as he considered the statement. “Is that what you were babbling about before we went to sleep?”
“Excuse me, but I don’t babble. The answer to your question is yes, though. I swear I saw someone flying over the field last night.”
“Uh-huh.” Landon slipped his hand under the covers and searched for my fingers. “Sweetie, have you considered that you had a dream and when you woke up you thought you were still in it?”
“No, because I never fell asleep,” I answered, my irritation bubbling up. “I was too busy wondering if you had a hard case and that’s why you were so exhausted. Then I felt guilty because I should’ve offered you a massage before you fell asleep. Then I let my imagination really get away with me and wondered if you didn’t tell me about your hard case because you didn’t trust me. So, you see, I never fell asleep, so I didn’t imagine the person flying over the field.”
That would show him.
Landon widened his eyes to comical proportions. “Wow. Your head is a very scary place sometimes, sweetie. Okay, um, where should I start? I did have a hard case last week, but it was hardly worse than any previous case – and easier in a lot of respects. It was a bank fraud job that caused me to spend eight hours a day looking at piles of numbers. It was annoying, but nowhere near difficult enough to give me an ulcer.
“Secondly, the massage would’ve been nice, but I was so tired that I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy it,” he continued. “You can give me the massage tonight. Oh, don’t bother arguing. Now you’ve mentioned it and I want it.”
I tried to swallow my smirk … and failed.
“As for the rest of it, the part of about me not telling you because I don’t trust you, that’s freaking out there.” Landon’s tone was firm. “If I needed to talk through it you would be the first person I call. It was a fraud case. Not only was it boring, it was also monotonous and would’ve ruined our nightly calls.
“I was tired because I packed all week and slept alone,” he continued. “That means I tossed and turned because I didn’t have your snoring to lull me to sleep. And before you say you don’t snore, remember that I took video of you doing it and I will show it to people if you’re not careful.
“There’s nothing nefarious going on here, Bay,” he said. “I was tired because I had a long week.”
I pressed my lips together, embarrassed. “Okay.” The word was barely a whisper when it escaped.
“Okay? No, you need to apologize and get me some bacon to make me feel better.” Landon’s eyes lit with mirth when I scowled. “I’m fine, Bay. I was simply tired from looking at numbers all week.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t stop myself from imagining the worst sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m happy and I feel as if something bad is going to happen to wipe away that happiness if I’m not careful. It feels somehow inevitable.”
Landon was silent as he considered the statement. To my surprise, he slipped his arm under my waist and tugged me on top of him rather than admonishing me. “I think it’s normal to for people to worry about stuff like that sometimes, so I’m going to let it go.”
I didn’t bother to hide my surprise. “Are you saying that I’m off the hook?”
“You were never on the hook.” Landon kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re allowed to worry. Next time, if you need to talk it out, I’d prefer if you called me instead of letting it build for days and then dumping it on me. That’s a small quibble, though.”
He had a point, still … . “I didn’t realize I was letting it build up,” I admitted. “I heard how tired you were when we were talking on the phone and I kind of pushed it out of my mind until you passed out and didn’t care that there was a guy flying over the property.”
Landon shook his head, amused. “Bay, no one was flying over the property. You dreamt it … or imagined it … or perhaps even a combination of both. But just for my curiosity, how do you know it was a guy?”
“He had broad shoulders and short hair.”
“So does Thistle.”
A hysterical giggle escaped as Landon tickled me and rolled on top of me. “I’m going to tell Thistle you said that,” I gasped, trying to evade his insistent fingers.
“Go ahead. She has her hands full being at the top of Aunt Tillie’s list. I’m not afraid of Thistle.”
“Those are bold words.”
“I can back them up.” Landon smacked a loud kiss on my lips. “Now, we’ve had our serious talk and even survived a side journey into the surreal. To make the morning complete, we need some loving and some bacon. What order do you want to do those in? By the way, if you say you want to combine those, no one will ever love you more than me.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s already true.”
Landon tilted his head to the side, his long hair dipping below his shoulder. “Good point. Loving it is. I’ll use the bacon to replenish my spent energy once we’re done.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
BY THE time we hit the inn we were both in good spirits. Landon chased me from the guesthouse to The Overlook – ostensibly to get our blood rushing to survive the long walk in the chilly air – but I had a feeling it was really because he was feeling frisky. We were full of laughter when we let ourselves into the family living quarters through the back door. Our good moods lasted until we ran into Aunt Tillie.
She sat in the middle of the couch, a thick book open on her lap, and stared at the morning news anchors as they regurgitated the local news. She seemed entranced by whatever they said. and it took me a moment to realize she was dressed in normal clothes and shoes.
“Are you sick?” I blurted out the question before I thought better of asking it. Aunt Tillie might take it as an insult. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the top of her list, especially before breakfast.
“What? No.” Aunt Tillie jerked her head in our direction, seemingly surprised to see us. “When did you get here?”
Okay, now I was certain something was going on with her. She was out of it. “Are you okay?” I rounded the corner of the couch and pressed my hand to her forehead before she could mount an argument. “You don’t feel warm.”
“I’m not sick,” Aunt Tillie sputtered, annoyed. She narrowed her eyes as she regarded me with cold detachment. “Why do you think I’m sick? I’m old, not decrepit.”
“It has nothing to do with your age,” I replied, scratching my cheek. “It’s just … you didn’t hear us come in. You usually insult Landon every morning before we head into the kitchen. You were watching the news instead of making fun of the anchors.”
“Well, they weren’t nearly as stupid this morning as they usually are,” Aunt Tillie sniffed.
“You’re not wearing leggings … or a combat helmet … or Army boots,” Landon added. He looked mildly worried himself. “You were up to something last night, too, and I doubt very much it had anything to do with Christmas shopping.”
“Oh, you’re so smart.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “How did we ever survive before we had your deductive skills at our beck and call?”
Landon remained unmoved by the insult. “Are you in trouble?”
“No!”
“Are you going to get in trouble before the day is out?”
“No!”
“Fine. We’ll leave you to it.” Landon grabbed my hand and jerked me toward the kitchen. “If you get arrested, I want you to remember this moment. I offered you help and you said that you didn’t need it. I won’t come swooping in later to save you.”
Aunt Tillie made a very unladylike sound in her throat. It reminded me of a very old cat that had hairball issues. “We both know that’s not true.”
All three of us knew that it wasn’t true, but I decided to let it go. I followed Landon through the kitchen and settled at the dining room table in time to see Mom, Marnie and Twila putting out all of the morning fixings. Thistle and Marcus were suspiciously absent, but the guests were excitable and raring to go.
“It’s going to be a big day, right?” The woman who asked the question – I was fairly certain she introduced herself as Erin Ackerman the night before – had sparkling blue eyes and was aflutter with eagerness.
“It is,” I confirmed, bobbing my head.
“Why is it going to be a big day?” Landon asked, tossing at least eight slices of bacon on his plate before handing the platter to me. “What’s going on in Hemlock Cove this weekend?”
“We have a festival,” Twila replied.
“Hemlock Cove always has a festival,” Landon pointed out. “What festival are we dealing with this week? Are we worshipping turkeys, potatoes or pumpkin pie?”
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