by Tegan Maher
When we reach the back entrance to the church, we’re both covered in snow. That might be thanks to a little bit of snow wrestling that took place a few yards from the door. It’s nice and toasty inside, and I strip off my soaked, snow-covered hat, scarf, mittens, and jacket. I feel my cheeks flush as I try to catch my breath. Marley is just as rosy-cheeked and breathless as I am. She takes off her snow-covered layers, too, and then we both head downstairs.
A quick peek at the line for Santa reveals the fact that Allen was indeed here in the church basement. He’s waiting in line with his daughter, who looks eager to sit in Santa’s lap.
I also spot Katie across the room. She’s kneeling in front of her daughter, Phoebe, who is crying. It looks like Katie is trying to soothe Phoebe, but it’s not working.
“You go tell Katie that we’re making good progress,” I instruct Marley. “I’ll handle Allen.”
“You sure?” Marley asks.
I nod.
“He was in a really grumpy mood this morning,” Marley says. “Be careful, Penny.”
“Always,” I say.
I square my shoulders, and head straight for Allen. Turkey trots along next to me, which is a big deal. Maybe he is serious about facing his fears today. Usually, he avoids confrontation with criminals, and at this point, I’m fairly certain that Allen is a thief.
When I near Allen, I hold up the purple teddy bear skirt. “Allen, did you drop something?” I ask.
He looks at the fabric. At first, he seems confused. Then he recognizes it, and he nods. “Oh, yeah, I guess I did,” he says, reaching for it. “It must have fallen from my pocket.”
I yank it back. “Not so fast. This is evidence,” I say. “Do you know where you dropped it?”
Now his face pales. He seems to know what I’m getting at. “I -- uh -- um…” he says.
I nod. “Yeah, I think you’re putting the pieces together,” I say. “You dropped it out by the maintenance shed. Care to tell me what you were doing out in the maintenance shed?” I say.
He reaches for his daughter’s hand. “Willow, sweetie, let’s go,” he says. “We can see Santa another day.”
“No, we can’t, Daddy!” she protests. “He’s right there! He’s going to come through the chimney when I’m asleep, and I won’t get to see him! This is the only time!”
I’m starting to feel bad. I don’t want to accuse Allen of stealing in front of his little girl.
I glance over at Katie. Marley is talking to her and pointing at me. Katie’s daughter Phoebe is wiping her eyes. As I watch, Katie stands and begins making the way toward Allen and me.
We’re starting to draw other curious glances, too. Others in the line to see Santa are starting to inch closer to Allen and me. Instead of facing forward, towards Santa, they’re now facing us.
In fact, as I look around, I see that most people in the room are looking at us. I guess word got around that I was looking for Blaze, and everyone wants to know what I figured out.
“Allen,” I say. “I think you may have made a mistake today.” I look from Allen to his daughter, and say, “Mistakes happen, don’t they?”
The girl nods. “All the time,” she says. “Mommy says they’re learning opportunities.”
“That’s right,” I say with a nod. “Learning opportunities. I agree. Allen, maybe you made a mistake and saw something in the maintenance shed that you thought was yours, but really it wasn’t yours…?” Hint, hint. I give him a look, trying to convey my message to him without saying, “I know you took Blaze from the shed.”
He hesitates and looks around the room. All eyes are on him. He blushes, and says, “You know what, I think I may have made a mistake.” His eyes land on Katie. “Yeah… I suppose I did. I put it… in my truck that’s parked right off Gilmore, about a block away.” He looks right at Katie. “If you go over there, you’ll find it.”
Katie smiles, and nods at Allen. “Thank you!” she says. She kneels down and says to her daughter, “You stay with Grandma. I’m going to go get Blaze!”
With that, she runs off. Phoebe finally dries her tears. She runs up to her grandmother and says, “Mommy found Blaze!”
I smile at Allen. “Good job,” I say. “I know how hard that must have been.”
Willow looks up at her father. “Daddy, what’s going on?” she asks.
He kneels down and looks her in the eye. “Your dad makes mistakes sometimes, too,” he says. “I thought maybe that goat wanted to come stay with us for a while, at our house. I happened to go out to the back exit, and I saw him all alone in the shed. I just thought maybe he would cheer things up around our house tomorrow morning. I didn’t think about Katie, or how she would feel… or how her daughter would feel. I was wrong.”
Then he stands up and says, “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that. Truth is, I’ve been having a tough day. I’m worried that… I’m worried that Santa might not bring the toys… the toys that my little girl here wants. It’s been a bit of a tough year, and funds are short. Not that that has anything to do with Santa.”
He glances down, and looks at his daughter. “I’m sure everything is going to be just fine,” he says.
The look on his face, however, displays his true feelings. He is not sure that everything is going to be fine.
A hush falls around the room. Allen just admitted to not being able to buy gifts for his daughter this year. It’s clearly weighing heavily on him – so much so that he resorted to stealing a goat. I am sure every craft vendor and every shopper feels just as sorry for him as I do.
Annie steps away from her booth. She has a paper bag in her hands. It looks filled to the brim with items from her table. I see a little pink hat and mittens poking out from the top. “Oh, you know what?” she says as she approaches Allen. “Santa stopped by earlier, and he asked that I give you this package! It’s to put under the tree. Isn’t that nice?” She hands the little paper bag to Allen with a wink.
Willow looks up. “Santa said that’s for us?” she says, her eyes lighting up.
Behind us, the seated Santa gives a big “Ho ho ho! That’s right! Ho ho ho!”
“Oh my goodness!” the little girl says.
Cindy, from the booth next to Annie’s, steps forward as well. “You know what’s funny? Santa gave me a present to give to you, too! He said he was just so busy, and asked if I would pass it along so you could put it under your tree.”
“Actually, I have something, too!” another vendor calls out. Soon, vendors from all over the room are handing over items to Allen, who looks bewildered and a bit overwhelmed. A smile plays at his lips, and I even see a tear in his eye as he collects the armfuls of bags, wrapped packages, boxes, and bins.
Soon, there is a pile of gifts next to Allen. “I -- I can’t thank you enough… all of you….” he says. “This is truly a blessing.”
“Ma-aa-aa!” The sound of a goat bleating carries through the room. In the next instant, Blaze comes careening down the stairs. He does a little trick jump at the bottom, kicking his legs out to the side, and the whole room starts clapping. “We found him!” Katie announces, from the top of the stairs.
Phoebe runs up to Blaze and gives him a big hug around the neck. Then she looks at Willow and says, “Guess what? Blaze loves to visit places. I bet he would like to visit your house, if you wanted him to.”
“Ma-aa-aa!” Blaze says.
Willow nods and smiles. “Oh, yes!” she says. “That sounds like fun. I bet we could put him in a stroller, and play house with him!”
Katie, who has now reached the bottom of the stairs, joins me at Allen’s side. She eyes Allen for a minute. Then she looks at the presents around him. She’s a smart woman. She, like most of us in town, knows that times have been a bit harder than usual around Allen’s house this year. She smiles at Allen, nods, and says, “We’d love to come visit one day, and bring Blaze along.”
“I think my family would like that,” Allen says, smiling and wiping another tear from his e
ye.
An hour later, I’m standing with Marley, Annie, and Cora out in front of the town’s tallest tree. It’s five of six, and the whole town is gathered around the towering pine to witness the six o’clock lighting.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t get my act together in time to get you guys presents,” I say. I’m holding a gift bag from Cora, with a beautiful hand-knit afghan inside. I’m also wearing the cozy hat, mittens, and scarf that Annie graciously gifted me, as well as a warm sweater from Marley.
Cora wraps her arm around my shoulder. “You’re the gift, you crazy girl,” she says, giving me a squeeze. “I can’t believe I missed all the fun of finding the missing goat!”
“Well, most of it was fun,” Marley says, placing her arm over my other shoulder. “Except for the bit where we walked into the spooky abandoned garage.”
“I heard you were very brave,” Annie says. She’s standing in line with Marley, and now she leans over so she can see me. She gives me a bright smile and says, “Then again, you always are, dear.”
“I think we were all brave today,” I say. Turkey is in my arms. I give his head some strokes, and he grins and starts purring.
“Yes,” Annie says. “Including Allen. Penny, you handled that very well.”
A sense of pride wells up in my heart. “Thank you,” I say. “I think my people skills are improving.” The ladies laugh. I add, “I guess becoming a witch makes dealing with humans seem like no big deal.”
“Right,” Marley says. “Things might get awkward, but at least you know they’re not going to put a spell on you or anything.”
“Speaking of spells,” I say, “I’m also sorry that we didn’t have time to cast a Christmas Spell this evening like we wanted to. This day just totally got away from me. I got so caught up in that case…” I shake my head.
“Dear, you have nothing to be sorry about,” Annie says. “It’s true that we didn’t cast a spell together this evening. However, we did take part in some very powerful Christmas Magic, don’t you think?”
I think of Allen -- smiling through his tears of gratitude and awe. I think of his daughter, and the hopeful, joyful look in her eyes. I think of Phoebe, hugging her goat, and Katie’s forgiveness of Allen.
My heart begins to feel full. I look around at my witch sisters, and then at all of the smiling faces of my Hillcrest neighbors, gathered around the tree with us.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven!” The crowd begins to count down the seconds until six o’clock
More people join in. “Six, five, four…”
Cora, Marley, Annie, and I add our own voices to the mix. My voice joins with the others as we all say, “Three, two, one!”
The whole tree lights up.
It’s not magic. It’s just a pine tree, electricity, and a whole lot of loving people gathered around it in one place. But I swear, even though we didn’t exactly cast any spells today, Annie is right: Today was filled with Christmas Magic.
Want to find out more about Penny Banks and the witches of Hillcrest? Click HERE to download a free copy of the prequel to Amorette’s Hillcrest Witch Cozy Mystery series, The Case of the Love Spell.
About the Author
Amorette Anderson writes fun cozy mysteries that star witchy characters. She lives in Colorado with her husband and puppy, Marley. When she’s not writing or reading she’s dreaming up ways to make life a little more magical.
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Time For A Christmas Curse
Stephanie Damore
Time For A Christmas Curse
Cold-case solving witch Vee Harper is dashing through snow and time to solve her latest case. This time it’s Christmas who’s gone missing. The town of Holiday hasn’t seen her since 1988. Every year, residents go to bed on December 24th, and when they wake, it’s December 26th, and Christmas has come and gone.
Can Vee solve this holiday curse, or will the town of Holiday be forced to live without Christmas forever?
Chapter One
"Have you ever seen Die Hard?" I asked, turning on the television.
"Is it a Christmas movie?" My blast from the past boyfriend asked. We were spending our first Christmas together as a couple. Christmas Eve at my house in the present day and Christmas Day at his sister's house in Philly, 1959. It was a long-distance relationship to the extreme, as neither one of us was allowed to spend more than a week at a time in each other's time period—time travel rules and all—but it worked for us.
"I think so. It takes place during the holidays, and the main character’s a cop." What else could you want from a Christmas movie?
"Fire it up." Michael wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I snuggled into him, pulling the flannel blanket that I had folded on the sidearm of the couch over onto our legs. Electricity hummed between us. It was a sensation that had taken some getting used to as powerful magic ran through both of our veins. Now the feeling was a source of comfort and definitely kept me warm on these cold, snowy nights in the midwest.
CRASH!
The sound came from the kitchen before the first gunshot in the movie could even be fired. We sprang from the couch and dashed to the kitchen to find my feline familiar, Agatha covered in egg nog. The glass punch bowl teetered on the edge of the table. Eggnog spread out in its wake and dripped onto the floor. A bottle of spiced rum was smashed to pieces on the floor. It appeared Agatha had fallen into the punch bowl and then took off like a bullet, tearing up the kitchen.
"What in the world are you doing?" I asked.
Agatha shook her head as if getting eggnog out of her ears. "It tasted a little weak," she said and then sneezed.
I couldn't help it. I started laughing.
Agatha shook her back paws behind her and walked off, leaving milky prints in her wake.
"Hey, come back here! You need to help clean this mess up," I said.
"I'm taking a bath," Agatha's muffled voice came from the living room. I could only hope she meant a legit bath in the upstairs bathroom and not one that involved her cuddling up on my clean flannel blanket and licking herself clean. Knowing Agatha, it was probably the latter. I was going to tell Michael to go back to watching the movie, and I'd clean this mess up and rejoin him when I saw that my boyfriend already had a roll of paper towels under his arm and was sopping up as much of the mess as possible. Oh yeah, he was a keeper.
I was making sure the floor wasn't still sticky when I heard the distinct thump in the living room, followed by a festive greeting, "Ho, ho, ho!" The jolly voice called down the chimney. Michael turned and looked at me with a cocked eyebrow.
I shook my head, knowing full well who it was. “What can I say, the boys at the Bureau have a twisted sense of humor." I tossed the dishrag into the sink and walked into the living room to see my latest case. The usual nondescript box was wrapped up with a big red bow to mark the holiday occasion. If I were dating anyone else, I would've been forced to ignore the box or have to sneak away and open it in private, but Michael knew all about my work as a cold-case solving witch for the Bureau of Paranormal Particularities. Like me, he was also a detective who loved his job and knew it would drive me nuts to leave the box unopened — Christmas Eve or not.
"Did I miss him?" Agatha came dashing down the stairs with a shower cap on and a dead mouse hanging from her mouth. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the box on the floor, and putting two and two together. She spit the mouse out on the floor.
"Ew," I replied.
"What? It's a gift. Thought I'd catch the jolly old elf this year," Agatha replied.
"Nope, just a case," I said.
"Well, bah humbug." Agatha swatted the mouse and sent it sliding under the couch and trotted back up the stairs. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, counting to ten and trying to remind myself of all of Agatha's good traits, although, at that moment, I was coming up empty.
"Your familiar is weird," Mic
hael replied.
"You have no idea.” I opened my eyes and focused on the delivery instead. "Let's check out this case, shall we?" I untied the ribbon and opened the box. "Looks like they knew you were here." Folded at the top of the package were two Christmas sweaters. I took them out and held them up. Mine, a green cable-knit sweater with a felted Christmas tree on the front, complete with pom-pons as decorations, and Michael's, a brown knitted sweater with a reindeer on the front. Rudolph, to be exact, by the red jingle bell nose. "Oh, and his and her jeans." I held the stone-washed denim up. "Don't worry, I'll show you how to French roll them."
"Um..." Michael was speechless. I gave him a wicked smile and proceeded to read the case file.
"Oh, this is interesting. It's a cold case from 1989. A town has been forced to skip Christmas every year for thirty years."
"Come again?" Michael asked.
"In the town of Holiday, residents go to bed on December 24th, and when they wake up again, it's December 26th, and Christmas has come and gone. The last Christmas the town had was in 1988."
"That sounds like a curse to me," Michael replied.
"That's what I'm thinking." I read the rest of the case information. "They're sending us back to Christmas Eve 1989. The case manager thinks something happened at the town Christmas party that night to prevent Christmas coming the next day, but they're not sure what."
"Guess it's up to us to find out then, isn't it?" Michael replied.
"That it is. Ready to do this?" I handed Michael his sweater.
He cringed.
"C'mon, it's part of the gig,” I said.
"If you say so."
We took turns changing in the downstairs bathroom. Me, taking a couple extra minutes to get the perfect roll at the bottom of my jeans. The creases needed to be as straight and smooth as possible, and the seams on the inside.