He laughed again. “Honey, you’re in corn liquor country—not to mention that the meth capital of the world is just down the road. A night of overindulgence due to grief is nothing to most of the people around here.”
Eli opened the door for me. One thing about these boys—Jarrod and Eli—they were gentlemen to the core. I hadn’t opened my own door in eight years as long as Jarrod was around.
When we stepped inside, the conflicting aromas of jasmine, sage, rosemary, thyme, and basil almost made me gag, given my still-precarious state. A sign across the back wall advertised organic meats, including buffalo roast and locally raised chickens.
Eli’s mom handed a customer a small cloth bag and smiled. Her eyes landed on Eli, and her already beautiful face glowed even more. “Have a good day,” she said to her customer, then slipped out from behind the register and headed toward us. I’d met Mrs. Murdock only once, but I knew she was the youngest sister on Jarrod’s dad’s side. Her eyes smiled the way Eli’s did, and he’d gotten her height. She towered over me, standing at least five foot ten, which to my five foot three seemed Amazonian.
“Eli, baby,” she said. “You didn’t tell me you were stopping by.” She turned her gaze to me and without asking reached out and pulled me close for a quick hug. “It’s good to see you again, Corrie. How you holding up, honey?”
My throat clogged at the kindness. “I’m making it,” I said. “Thank you for asking.”
“Well, I’m surprised to see you out and about after such a long drive yesterday. Of course just a trip to St. Louis tuckers me out these days. That’s the price of getting old.”
“Sure, Ma,” Eli said with an exaggerated drawl. “You’re real old.”
“Oh, what does he know?” she said, addressing me. “Now, honey, don’t you dare bury yourself out there at that old farm or I’ll come looking for you.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, reverting to my southern belle upbringing. I already regretted leaving the farm today, but I didn’t tell her that. Once I got some food for the house and some cushions for my swing, I probably wouldn’t force myself off the property again until I had no choice. For instance, if I ran out of shampoo or toilet paper or, even more tragically, coffee.
Eli nudged me and pointed to the sign in the back that said Restroom.
“Oh, that’s why you stopped in,” his mom said. “And here I thought you missed your mother.”
He rolled his eyes. “How could I? You don’t give me a chance to miss you.”
“Fine,” she said with mock hurt. “I’ll stop calling.”
“Sure you will. Anyway, we’re on our way to Springfield,” Eli explained as I made a beeline to the back. “Corrie has some things to pick up, and so do I.”
I closed the door behind me, and I heard the muffled conversation. I trusted Eli. He wouldn’t blab my business. But gee whiz, doesn’t a girl have a right to drink herself dizzy on her first night in the house she was supposed to share with her husband? Just the thought of Jarrod’s burial brought burning tears to my eyes. I tried to fight them back, knowing that Mother would be mortified to know her daughter was bawling in a tiny bathroom in a tiny hillbilly town.
The thought made me smile and helped me control the sudden rush of grief.
I finished my business and washed my hands in the tiny sink. Then I shoved my sunglasses back on my face before I went out. I knew it would look a little funny—sunglasses inside—but better that than Eli’s mom noticing the tears and going all motherly on me. I’d be a blubbering pile of mush in the middle of the store, and we’d never make it to Springfield if I let that happen.
Thankfully, she was helping a customer anyway. I spotted Eli over by the shelves all the way across the store. You couldn’t really miss him. Tall as a basketball player, broad contractor shoulders, and a gorgeous tan already. If it had been Jarrod, I’d have accused him of popping into the tanning bed a few times after the gym, but I was pretty sure Eli wouldn’t even fit into a tanning bed.
He looked up from the supplements he was eyeing and smiled when he saw me. I moved toward him, and his expression changed from happy to dread. For a split second, I felt the weight of rejection land on my shoulders, then in my peripheral vision I saw I had company. I turned and my eyes widened. At first glance, the woman could have been Mrs. Murdock’s twin, with her blond hair and height and slender build. On second glance, however, her face definitely looked older, by at least twenty years. She stared wordlessly at me, and her eyes were the wildest shade of blue I’d ever seen. Something between sapphire and aqua. “Jarrod’s widow.” She said the words, not as a question, but as a statement of fact. “He misses you.”
An eerie sort of cold moved through my back and over my scalp. The feeling reminded me of the way I’d felt earlier in my bed. I shivered. Then Eli was at my side, and I felt the warmth return. “I-I miss him too.”
“Aunt Trudy,” Eli said, slipping an arm lightly around me until his palm touched the small of my back. I felt strength in that action, and my mind began to run through the extended family members I had met the few times Jarrod brought me to his hometown. Then I remembered one Thanksgiving get-together five years ago, and Aunt Trudy’s face came to mind.
With a rush of relief, I reached out to shake her hand. “Of course, Aunt Trudy. I remember you.”
She smiled, and all I saw were gums. My stomach started to protest. “I remember you too. Jarrod’s pretty, delicate wife.”
Delicate?
Her gaze shifted to Eli, and something akin to hostility hardened her expression. “She’s not for you,” she said. “I love you, but don’t let your competition with Jarrod lead your heart down the wrong path.”
Eli’s face darkened a shade. “Aunt Trudy …” For a second I didn’t know what she meant, then in an awful moment of clarity, I realized she meant me. Of course I wasn’t for him. What did she mean?
Dismissing Eli with an upraised hand, she turned her attention back to me. A slow smile lifted one side of her mouth. “Jarrod isn’t lost to you. Death’s not the end.” She peered closer. “But you already know that, don’t you, honey? Where else would he have gone but back to the home place?”
My eyes went wide, and the hair on my neck stood up. I wanted to ask her about the swing moving and if that might have been Jarrod comforting me, and how did she know Jarrod was here with me, and how could she hear him speak? But I could tell Eli wasn’t happy with the encounter, though I wasn’t sure why. His mom finished with her customer and walked back to us. She slipped her arm around the old woman. “Aunt Trudy, I see you’ve met Corrie. She and Eli were just headed into Springfield. We’d better let them go.” She gave Eli and me a conspiratorial wink behind Aunt Trudy’s head. “I need to close up anyway. Auntie, will you help me cover the bins? Then I’ll drive you home.”
Aunt Trudy nodded. “Of course I’ll help, but there’s no need to patronize me, Samantha,” she said in that blunt way that only old people can get away with. She looked at me again. “All you have to do is whisper, and he’ll present to you.”
“Okay,” Eli said. I sensed he was trying to protect me, but I wanted to shake him off and ask this woman the questions rushing through my mind.
She ignored him anyway and studied me, her eyes narrowed. “Do you know magic?”
The unexpected change in topic threw me. I shook my head. Beside me, Eli’s tension was palpable. Aunt Trudy’s eyes narrowed to mere slits.
I shivered at her words, but I had to admit that somehow she seemed to know I was wondering about my experiences in the house last night and today.
Growing up in the Bullock home, we had never discussed the possibility of ghosts. In fact, there was a cut-and-dried explanation that went something like this: mediums and witches are an abomination to God. Conjuring spirits is forbidden. It opens doors that almost always result in demons wreaking havoc on your life.
I knew what my mother believed, but I didn’t really have an opinion one way or another. And I had to a
dmit the occurrences—or whatever they’d been—frightened me. I wasn’t much of a brave soul anyway. But if there was a chance Jarrod wasn’t finished with me, if he wanted to help me through the transition of moving to his family home, I welcomed the chance to be in his presence again, however God allowed it. But given the tension I felt radiating from Eli, I instinctively knew this wasn’t the time to discuss the issue. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Aunt Trudy,” I said. “I’ll see you again soon.”
She gave me a slow nod and turned her back.
Eli’s mom smiled warmly. “If you need anything, honey, you just give me a call. Eli, give her my number so she has more contacts around here, okay?”
“Will do, Ma.” He kissed her cheek and kissed Aunt Trudy too. The old lady brightened and patted his face.
“Drive carefully,” she said, and the gesture made her seem almost normal and a little less spooky.
I was shaking when we walked outside. The sun stabbed as it slowly descended. I was glad we’d be driving west. “Wow, I had no idea it was so late.”
“Lowe’s is open for a few more hours.” Eli opened the door to his truck and waited for me to buckle up before he shut the door. I looked out the window toward the shop, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aunt Trudy. I wasn’t disappointed. She had come to the store window and stood staring out at me as though she knew.
I almost felt guilty as Eli slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. I knew he’d want to avoid the subject, but my curiosity refused to let it go.
“So, she’s an interesting character,” I said, giving her a little wave and a smile as we pulled away.
“To say the least.”
“How exactly are we related to her?”
“She’s Pop’s youngest sister.” He cut a glance toward me and missed his opportunity to pull out of the parking lot into traffic. “The youngest of thirteen kids. She’s only seventy-five but looks about ninety.”
“That’s only because she doesn’t have teeth.”
He laughed. “She does that on purpose, I think. Her way of seeming more witchy.”
His tone and lack of respect for an elder surprised me, and I stayed quiet. He must have understood my silent condemnation, because he elaborated.
“I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way. I mean she honest-to-goodness wants the mystique of being a witch. She practices the old magic from around here. Everywhere else in the world, the witches want to get rid of the stereotype of warts and wrinkles and pointy hats, but she likes it.”
“Is that why she asked me if I knew magic? Did she think I might be a witch?”
He got an opening and maneuvered the truck into traffic. Then he turned toward the main street that would lead to the outer road, which would lead to the interstate. We had a good forty-five-minute drive ahead of us. And I was getting hungry, but no way did I want to walk into a restaurant today. The thought of being in a room full of people sent a wave of panic through me.
Eli glanced at me again. “Aunt Trudy seems to have taken a personal interest in you.”
“I liked her. I thought she had character. When the house is finished, I’ll have her over for lunch one day.”
“Just be careful, Corrie. As much as I love her, Aunt Trudy isn’t playing games. She honestly believes the things she said to you.”
“So she’s a witch for real?” I grinned and put on my Glinda the Good Witch high-pitched voice. “But is she a good witch or a bad witch?” He gave me a blank stare, then frowned. I gave a mock gasp. “From The Wizard of Oz? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it. That’s un-American.”
“Oh yeah, I saw that.” He watched for traffic and pulled onto the outer road. “And to answer the question, she’s a good woman. I love my aunt. But we have fundamental differences in what we believe.” He hesitated. “My faith tells me she’s deceived.”
“Deceived how?” I felt bad for teasing about The Wizard of Oz when the topic of his aunt clearly troubled him.
He expelled a heavy breath. “The old-timers around here still hold to the superstitions the ancestors brought with them from Appalachia in the early nineteen hundreds. Our family has been filled with healers and naturalists as far back as anyone has bothered to trace.”
I shivered a little in spite of myself. “Your mom running a natural-food store, for instance.”
“Yes, that’s bringing the tradition into the twenty-first century. Aunt Trudy and Pop’s mother sold charms and love potions and served as midwives to most of the women around here for a couple of generations.”
The thought made me smile. “No harm in that.” I felt like I’d been charmed from the moment I laid eyes on Jarrod, and even death hadn’t eased the effects of his spell on my heart.
“She was said to be a medium.”
“Conjure-up-the-dead medium?”
“It’s called spirit communication, but yes. And the Bible says to stay away from it.”
“She said she heard Jarrod say he misses me.”
Eli’s jaw tightened. “She might have heard something speaking to her, but it wasn’t Jarrod.”
“Just like that?” Irritation hit me. “You can’t even consider the possibility he spoke to her?”
“I believe the Bible.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s part of our heritage. You’re living in the house where she grew up. I just thought it might interest you.”
Actually, since he put it that way, I had to admit that I was more than a little intrigued. I reached over and put my hand on his upper arm. “It does interest me. To be honest, Aunt Trudy did get me a little spooked.”
He shook his head. “She’s a good person, basically. Mainly she’s into nature and trying to set things in balance. You have nothing to worry about from her unless …”
Okay, when someone leaves a sentence open-ended like that, I can’t help but worry. Especially when it has to do with worrying about a witch—good or otherwise.
“Unless what? Is she going to cast a spell on me or curse me?”
His lips twitched, and I was glad to see him lighten up a little. “Of course not. Unless you make her mad—just kidding.”
“Jerk.” I punched his arm, and he laughed. But he still hadn’t answered the question. “I don’t need to worry unless what?”
“Aunt Trudy is kind and a good woman …”
“But she dabbles in the black arts so I should be careful?” I thought I was starting to catch his drift a little.
He shook his head.
Or maybe not.
“She doesn’t dabble. There is a definite darkness surrounding several of the women in the family and one of the men—Aunt Trudy’s grandson, Raymond. Even though it’s mostly about nature and doing so-called good, the women around here are serious about this craft. That’s what makes it so much more dangerous. They hold gatherings in the woods on Aunt Trudy’s property, which isn’t that far from your property.
“She has a coven?” I held my breath and waited for him to say no; instead he nodded.
“Essentially. And it could be she’s hoping you’ll be sensitive to spiritual things. Maybe join the family tradition?”
Fear trickled down my spine. “I’m not part of the family, technically, so that would make me more of a Muggle.”
Again confusion clouded his eyes. Did this guy ever watch a movie? I shook my head. “It’s from Harry Potter, but never mind.”
“Well, anyway, in our part of the country, the old-timers believe the only way a witch can pass down the gene—for lack of a better word—is male to female or vice versa and through sexual contact.”
My face warmed—what was I, twelve? “So because Jarrod and I were married, she could tag me as a member if I wanted to learn the craft?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about that.” I held on to the hand brace above me as he slowed the truck at the intersection that would take us off the outer road onto the main highway. “I’m too much of a chicken to have anything to do with witc
hcraft. Plus, I’m too levelheaded, if you can believe that after catching me passed out this morning.”
His lips twitched, as I’d intended. But he grew serious again almost immediately. “Just be careful. It’s seductive. It’s also easy to justify it and make it much less dangerous in your mind and heart than it is. Most of the family doesn’t even give a thought to where Aunt Trudy’s magic comes from. They just accept her for who she is and let her be, with her spells and moonlight gatherings.”
His eyes remained on the road ahead of us, and he maneuvered the truck carefully in and out of traffic. Eli was truly troubled by all of this. I made a mental note to let Aunt Trudy know as soon as possible to take me off her list of witches in training. It definitely wasn’t for me.
Eli
By the time I got home, it was after nine o’clock, and my stomach felt like a cave, hollowed out. I’d offered to buy Corrie dinner in Springfield, but her stomach wasn’t ready for anything solid, as I’d suspected. She waved away my suggestion.
Mom’s car sat in my driveway, and my stomach jumped. Dad had passed on two years earlier, and my sister, Lynn, moved away right out of high school, so I was the only immediate family Mom had around here. I worried when she showed up late like this. She should be home, settled in for the night.
The house smelled like tomato sauce and Italian sausage, and my stomach rumbled. “Mom?” I called out. She would be absorbed in one of her nightly shows on the kitchen TV and would be oblivious to someone walking into the house. Me or a burglar or whoever. She stood at the counter chopping parsley, and as I suspected, she was watching Law & Order: SVU, which she always called SUV, and was clueless to the fact that I’d just called her name.
“Am I going to have to take away your key?”
She jumped at the sound of my voice, and her empty hand flew to her chest. “Gracious, Eli. Warn a person, will you? My heart is strong, but at my age I could have a stroke being scared like that.”
I didn’t mention that I’d called out to her five seconds earlier. Why bother? “What’s all this?” I asked.
The Widow of Saunders Creek Page 4