Jancie sat straighter and raised her right hand. “This ring is my mother’s. I’ve worn it for years. She gave it to me when she found out she wasn’t going to…” Her words trailed off.
Rowe knew what she’d not said and also sensed her pain. A lump formed in his throat. He knelt and lay an arm around her shoulders.
She leaned into him, until a round of dry sobs quieted.
Vika stroked Jancie’s hair. “For this next protection, you’ll need to have some faith. We’ll charge the ring with the protections we just put in place. Let me examine your ring.” She accepted the silver band from Jancie and closed her hand around it. The old witch’s face drained of color, and she returned the ring. “I was going to have you place the ring in the garden, but it’s much too precious. Can we get into your garage? With this common wall, that space will work for what we need.”
Jancie hopped up, and with the house keys on a stretch bracelet at her wrist, she opened the wide door.
“Rowe, help me gather a dozen or so small rocks from across the garden.” Vika placed her findings in the apron over her skirt. Her joints crackled as she stood, and Rowe transferred most of the load to his arms. Inside the garage, she located a rickety shelf under a small window overlooking the garden. “Perfect.” She accepted the rocks and arranged thirteen into a circle. “Jancie, hold your mother’s ring in your dominant hand. Magic travels best through the power hand. Concentrate fully on a mental image of your mother. Hold that tight in your mind while you place the ring dead center in the circle.” With the ring in position, she continued. “At dawn tomorrow, the ring will hold the same protection we placed on your home. It will keep you safe whenever you leave.”
“Thank you so much.” Jancie took Vika’s hand in hers.
The older woman stepped back and leaned her weight onto Jancie’s car.
“You’re tired.” Jancie looked to Rowe.
“That much casting will drain strength.” He rubbed the shoulder of his dear friend. “Not to mention she stayed up all night preparing the supplies.”
Jancie pulled Vika into her arms. “Thank you. Would you like to come in and have some breakfast or tea?”
“Thank you, child.” The witch returned the embrace. “I think I need to get myself home to bed. This old body isn’t used to such late hours. Maybe we can share breakfast another time. I do need to learn how those fae came to your garden. It’s not in me to do that today.”
“Yes, of course.” Jancie pulled away. “I’m a good cook and would be glad to have you back any morning I don’t work.”
“Oh, I’d like that, dear.” A wide smile cut through the wrinkles on the elderly witch’s face.
Jancie’s eyes twinkled. “I’m so curious to learn about my mother’s past. I’ll be eager for your help.”
Rowe smiled inside, watching the two interact. There was a kinship he marveled at, connecting souls that gave each other’s life new purpose. He felt that way about Jancie himself. Witnessing his friend’s similar feelings, validated his own.
Laughing together, Jancie guided Vika arm in arm back to Rowe’s car. He and the owls carried the supplies, and Siddie circled them all with her tail held high.
Rowe gave Jancie a quick hug. “I need to get her home. I’ll call you tomorrow. I think we all need some rest today. If you see anything frightening or strange, call me right away.”
“I will. Thank you for everything.” Her gaze met his. “You look tired too. Stay safe and get some sleep.”
As he drove away, Rowe watched in the rearview mirror until Jancie disappeared from view. He glanced at his own image. His eyes did look tired, but instead of dragging from lack of sleep, he now felt rested and restored. Realizing it was her touch, he smiled. It would be nice to be able to spend more time with her.
His thoughts drifted to her ring that Vika empowered. Jancie hadn’t given him that ring in the carnival to create animated clones. In hindsight, he was grateful for that stroke of fate since her friend’s bracelet remained missing. He hadn’t seen it appear in his house, like most misplaced animations. He made a mental note to look again. A pain shot through his jaw. Could the bracelet have been intercepted? Could Adara do that? He clenched the steering wheel and glanced at Vika, slumped into the seat. “Thank you for your help.”
She rolled her head to face him. “Oh, you don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad I could.”
“I saw you turn pale when you held Jancie’s ring. You must be exhausted.”
“I am, but that wasn’t the problem with the ring.” She worked a feeble hand up to grasp his. “That ring has strong magic, like I’ve never seen.”
Chapter Thirteen: Horseshoes and Pancakes
Jancie walked back inside her house, her arms wrapped around herself trying to keep the warmth of Rowe’s embrace from escaping. She checked the kitchen wall clock. He’d only been there an hour, but she missed him like he’d been gone for days.
The house was quiet. Rachelle snored softly from the living room couch and no noise came from Lizbeth and Willow in the guest room.
Jancie yawned. Her body was tired, but her mind jumped with thoughts. She’d never be able to sleep after all she saw and learned from Vika.
That old woman was such a kind soul, full of knowledge and purpose. Jancie sometimes worried about inheriting her mother’s cancer. Mom had been cheated. Jancie wanted a better chance. For years, it’d seemed like her life was put on hold. During the past few days, her pulse raced with every exciting hope and new direction.
Faeries in her garden. Jancie rubbed a hand across her forehead. She hadn’t even thought they existed outside of fantasy books. Their presence kind of explained how the plants had survived her neglect for almost two years. And she couldn’t deny seeing the specks of moving light. She wondered whether Mom had known they were there when she was alive. Previous owners could’ve put the faeries there. County records might have a list of who owned the house before her parents.
Loneliness washed over Jancie. She found her terry robe and looked out of her bedroom window over the backyard. Limbs of the lilac brushed the pane, and she thought of the huge Maine Coon familiar working like all the others to protect her from danger. She shook her head. It was surreal. She didn’t know if her friends would believe what had happened while they slept. She’d find a way to tell Rachelle. Best friends since grade school, they told each other everything. The others, Jancie wasn’t as sure about. It’d been hard keeping up with what girls her age did while seeing her mother through cancer. She didn’t need another reason to feel like an outcast.
But after all Rowe and Vika and their helpers did, Jancie couldn’t deny she felt safer, more protected. She lay on her bed and thought about the way Rowe held her by the garden when a wave of crying welled up. It was like the pain drifted out of her body into his. She wondered how he did that and why. She snuggled a pillow and imagined his face, her fingers cupped around the moonstone.
***
Pans clattering in the kitchen woke Jancie, and she stumbled to the kitchen. She rubbed sleep from her eyes to see Willow commanding her kitchen, ordering Lizbeth and Rachelle around.
“Mornin’,” Willow said with a sunny smile.
“We thought you could use a good breakfast after last night.” Rachelle finished laying silverware at places on the table and gave her a bear hug.
Jancie buried her face in Rachelle’s shaggy hair, burning to spill to her all that’d happened at dawn.
“Did you get any calls from anyone?” Lizbeth glanced her way while making a pot of coffee. “Rowe was supposed to bring some witch friend to bolster the protection on your house.”
“They came around dawn,” Jancie said through a yawn. She wormed her way to the sink and filled a kettle for tea.
“I’m sure glad he did.” Rachelle poked her head out from the fridge, hands filled with butter, maple syrup, and juice.
“Darn.” Using a fake red nail, Lizbeth pressed the brew button with flourish. “I intended
to watch what they did. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Jancie pretended to ignore her question and rummaged in the pantry for tea bags.
Willow paused in her pancake flipping and shivered. “Did they do anything gross? Like with dried toads or bat wings?”
“Eye of newt?” Rachelle asked with a laugh.
Jancie grinned. “No. Nothing creepy. Buried some old horseshoes around the yard. Placed an enchanted stone in the garden.”
“That’s all?” Lizbeth rolled her eyes. “I stayed up last night googling witchcraft protection spells. Seems like they’d call upon the powers of the winds and such. Channel energy from the plants. Nothing like that?” Her dark brows crept up her forehead.
“The important thing is that you’re safer now.” Rachelle said between gulps of orange juice. “How’s Rowe going to protect you when you leave your house?”
“They’re adding protection to my mother’s ring I always wear. It’ll be ready tomorrow morning.”
“So you’re grounded today. That sucks.” Willow flopped golden cakes onto a serving plate.
Jancie shrugged. “It’s Sunday. I don’t mind.”
Rachelle faced Willow. “Why? Did you want to go back to the carnival?”
Willow screwed up her mouth. “Well, sort of. It’s the last night. They’re only open during the daytime Monday, and that’s not as fun.”
Rachelle scowled and took a seat at the table. “Go ahead. You don’t need us to go. Have fun with Harley-cat.”
Willow placed the mountain of pancakes on the middle of the table. “I just might. I don’t get many days off work like you all.” Her fluty voice squeaked with a hint of pain.
Lizbeth pulled a plate of bacon from the microwave and added it to the table. “Dig in.”
“Looks delicious. Thanks guys.” Jancie filled her plate, thankful for the meal to silence the strained conversation.
After a mouthful, Rachelle said, “These pancakes are awesome. Great job, Willow.”
Everyone appreciated the food, and the atmosphere lightened with laughter and giggles.
Once the dishes were cleared, Willow offered Lizbeth a ride home. During goodbye hugs all around, Jancie whispered to Rachelle and asked her to stay a while.
After the other two left, she wrapped an arm around Jancie’s shoulder. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”
Tears rolled down Jancie’s cheeks, some happy, some frightened, as she spilled all that had happened at dawn.
Rachelle stroked Jancie’s hair and led her to sit on the steps of the back stoop. “I’m weirded out by all of this witchy stuff too. But it’s all right. We’ve never heard of anyone being hurt from dealings with the coven folk. You heard that deputy. Nothing to worry about. I think your dad’s fears are getting to you.”
Jancie shook her head. “It’s not Dad. Getting to talk with Mom outweighs all those fears. It’s Rowe. Everything with him is all so different and familiar at the same time.” Jancie struggled to find words to describe the new feelings. “I’m not used to things happening this fast in my life.”
Her friend faced her and snatched up her hands. “Has he done something to hurt you? He may be a witch, but he’s still just a man. And they can be real bastards at times.”
Jancie gave an odd laugh through a nose stuffy from crying. “No. He’s fine. The problem is he makes me feel good, in ways I haven’t felt before. It’s like my feelings are whirling around. I’m so used to life being slow, weeks passing into months with nothing much or nothing good happening. Now, I feel like I can’t even catch my breath.”
Rachelle laughed and pulled her into a hug. “Girl, you’re just living life. And maybe falling in love. God, I hope so. If any of us deserve to find love, it sure is you.”
Jancie flinched, then a smile crept over her face. “Love?”
“Relax and see what happens. And whatever you do, don’t let your dad find out.”
“Oh, no. He’d have a coronary.” Jancie’s hands flew to her mouth imagining how her dad would react.
Rachelle patted Jancie’s knee. “Are you going to be okay now? I need to get going.”
“Yes. Fine. Thanks for listening.”
“No problem. That’s what I’m here for. You’ve sure been there enough for me lots of times.” Her friend made her way to the long Chrysler. “Call me if you need anything.” She waved from her open driver’s window and backed out of the drive.
***
Jancie spent the lazy afternoon inventing chores around her garden and lawn. She’d done most of the hard work already, but with the enchantments and the news that faeries lived there, she couldn’t resist poking around. She trimmed, tied up wayward limbs, and took cuttings for another vase. While creating the arrangement, she wondered if there were faeries on the cut stems, or if they’d dropped off and stayed in the garden. Could they live inside the house? Were they good to have there?
Having more questions than answers, she was eager to spend more time with Vika.
Evening set in with a cold breeze from the north. After a light dinner, Jancie made a pot of tea and settled in with Maggie’s diary. She hoped there’d be some clues that tied to garden faeries.
Betty’s birth certificate stuck in the diary jarred Jancie’s mind. The names on the document listed Maggie Forsbey and Louis Forsbey as the parents. The date was June 30th, 1939, in Evansville, Indiana. Louis remained a mystery to Jancie.
She thumbed back to where Maggie had met a male witch in the coven who wore the moonstone locket. Like Jancie, the woman needed to see her departed loved one again. Jancie read for clues about Louis, the pregnancy with Betty, and ties to her own mother.
Page after page was filled with excited notes about the growth of baby Dorothy. It warmed Jancie’s heart to realize how Maggie was able to go on with her life and find happiness after the opportunity to see her deceased husband again. Jancie related to the emotions behind the faded cursive writing. The sentences were choppy, as if one happy thought fought with the next to be recorded. Jancie’s mind swarmed in just the same way. At times, joyful tears flooded Jancie’s eyes, like she’d met someone who shared her exact feelings. A weight lifted from Jancie through finding this woman who shared her own experiences and thoughts.
Near the end of the diary, Jancie came upon an entry with a different tone, hushed and cryptic like Maggie had a secret that she badly wanted to tell.
The love of my life is now a true part of me. The news makes me happier than I ever believed possible, and also in the darkest despair. It seems unfair the past should be allowed to shape the future. Bloodlines dictate too much. Although I cannot risk telling anyone, Louis and I now share two bonds that no one can cast asunder no matter what be known.
Jancie understood the secret had to be Maggie’s pregnancy with the baby who would be Betty. That was one bond, but Jancie puzzled over the second. She read on to learn more.
A few pages later, she paused at another entry where Maggie wrote:
Wonderful news! I am bursting to tell someone, although I mustn’t for fear of defiant interception. Through a cousin who strictly holds my confidence, I have just learned I have distant relations in New Wish on the Kentucky border around Evansville way. They are willing and happy to take in my little family. The three of us, and our blessing, will leave soon.
The final entry in May, 1939 told how Maggie moved away from Bentbone with one daughter, Dorothy, and one on the way—Jancie’s Grandmother Betty. Maggie wrote, “With heavy heart, I must make this my final entry. I’m leaving my family for the sake of my own children.”
Jancie closed the diary still pondering the clues. What bloodlines could make Maggie need to leave to protect her children?
Jancie stored the diary in her dresser and sunk into bed with the quilt Mom had made for her. Wind whipped at her window, and lilac branches scratching the panes woke her several times. She clutched the quilt to her chest, remembering dreams filled with images of a pregnant woman fighting to walk agains
t a sharp wind.
***
Those visions still haunted Jancie in the morning. The woman’s desperation and confused fears squeezed at her own throat. She raced to the garage not bothering to cover her nightshirt with a robe. She threw the door open and let out a loud sigh when she found her mother’s ring still there. She slipped it on her finger and sank against the side of her car, heart pounding. She wanted to see Rowe and needed to feel his warmth to relax the thoughts whipping in her mind.
Jancie trudged back inside and fingered her phone. He promised to call today. She expected that would be in the evening after the carnival ended in the late afternoon. But she needed him now, and a phone call wouldn’t be enough. Now with freedom to leave the house, she considered going to the carnival to find him. Instead, she plunked down at her kitchen table. Not with Adara out to get me.
Jancie convinced herself to wait for his call and went about her day, doing laundry and cleaning. No amount of busywork calmed her unrest. By afternoon, her nerves still on edge, she could take no more. Maybe I’ve been at home too long. A drive might help.
Fall weather had forced out the Indian summer weekend, and she changed into jeans and threw a light jacket over her white t-shirt. Her mother’s ring felt empowering against the steering wheel of her Camry.
Jancie turned onto Maple Street. Surely driving past won’t hurt. Only a third of the cars in the lot compared to Saturday night. The carnival appeared to be winding down. She longed to stop and see Rowe. She let out a sigh, knowing the thinning crowd would only make her a more visible target for Adara.
Jancie drove on, past the carnival into the country. The recent warm sunny days had brought out bright fall colors. Broad-leaved sugar maples looked like candy apples, their topmost leaves dipped in red while their lower parts stayed yellow and green.
The quiet of the countryside made Jancie feel alone. Unable to see Rowe, loneliness set in and added to her stress. The hollowness inside her widened the further she drove. At the next intersection, she made a U-turn and sought out something familiar.
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