After the Summerland
The Witches of Spring Hill
Book 1
Patricia Proctor
Dedication
To my husband, Brad.
Thank you for believing in me
and encouraging me to follow my dreams.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
About the Series
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Copyright
Chapter 1
Sixteen years ago…
The ten-acre property sits on a large hill in an otherwise flat landscape, making it the highest point in Spring Hill, North Carolina. Most of the property is made up of dense woods, other than at the top, where the house sits surrounded by a small yard and a large garden. On foggy days, the house disappears completely from view, but when the sun shines, the windows gleam so bright that if the ocean were nearby, sailors would think it was a lighthouse, welcoming them home, or perhaps warning them away.
Although the house can be seen from any point in Spring Hill, most people don’t venture near the property and only a few souls have actually made it up to the front door. Some people won’t go near the property because of the stories of the land being haunted, but others avoid it because of the witches who live in the house.
Many people assume the women inherited the old house, but no one remembers when the three women moved to town. It just seems as if they’ve always been there and only a few locals from this generation of town folk actually know the truth. The women were actually born and raised in the house, though they never come to town, never have visitors, and as far as anyone can tell, they never leave the property. They keep to themselves and most everyone in town leaves them be.
Isabelle, Cora, and Abigail Scott are happy to be left alone. They grow their own fruits, herbs, and vegetables and what they can’t grow themselves, they trade for with the local grocer. The exchanges are never made in person. Instead, all arrangements are made with the lawyer in town who also takes care of all of their monetary needs, including paying property taxes and utility bills. The sisters are quite happy with their existence, safe and secure in their home and gardens living a quiet, peaceful life with the protection of spells to keep unwanted people away.
Steve Thompson, who works in his dad’s grocery store, is one of the few who are invited onto the property. He rides his bike to the edge of town and up the hill once a month to collect the herbs, fruits, vegetables, and baked goods to sell at the grocery store. In exchange, he leaves a basket of groceries with an envelope containing whatever money is left from the sale of the sisters’ goods the previous month.
Some folks in town won’t buy or eat anything baked or grown by “3 Sisters” because of the talk about the women being witches. Most people don’t care about these rumors though, and wait in line for the arrival of 3 Sisters goods on delivery day. The vegetables are large and tasty; the fruit sweet and succulent, even out of season; and the pies, cakes, cookies, and muffins melt in your mouth.
Then there are the herbs… some women believe that preparing a meal with the herbs grown from 3 Sisters gardens can make a man fall in love. This happened to old Martha Cooper, who no one thought would ever meet a man, let alone get married, so when it finally happened to her others took notice and began waiting in line.
It has to be said that the vegetables are crisper; the fruit much more succulent; the herbs make any dish more flavorful; and the bread, cookies, pies, and muffins are better than any other in town, including the local bakery. Nothing brought down from the hill is ever thrown away or not eaten.
Since most people in town craved 3 Sisters homemade goods, everyone chalked up any odd happenings as the work of three eccentric old women. It was easier for everyone to go about their own business and pretend everything was normal rather than stir up trouble in the small town. That is, until Steve arrived at the house one mild spring morning, only to find the basket of groceries that he left the month before still sitting on the doorstep, untouched.
Chapter 2
Liam Alexander, Chief of Police, leans back in his chair, thankful for the quiet. He looks up at the old tile in the corner of the ceiling that still needs replacing. Oh well, he thinks, that’s a worry for another day. With Margo, his dispatcher, out sick, the station is quieter than usual. Not that the woman talks a lot, but when she is in, there’s always some noise or chatter that keeps Liam from accomplishing anything, which was why he often found himself working across the street at the diner or from the comfort of his own home.
Not that there is a whole lot of work to do, with the general lack of crime in this sleepy town. Of course, Liam takes the credit for that, but the truth is that everyone knowing everyone ensures that any petty crimes or grievances are handled amongst neighbors and friends rather than brought to the attention of the local police department. It suits Liam just fine, especially on a mild spring day when the office is so quiet he can hear the kids out riding their bikes.
Just as he stands up for a refill on his coffee, the front door swings in so abruptly that he almost drops his mug and instinctively reaches for his weapon. Bursting in through the door is Steve Thompson, huffing and puffing so hard Liam is sure the kid is going to start hyperventilating and pass out right in front of him.
“Chief! Chief! I went…” Steve says breathlessly. Liam stops him and hands him a cup of water from the drinking fountain. “Slow down, Steve. Take a drink of water. Whatever you’ve got to say can wait until you catch your breath.” Steve swallows the water in one gulp and crumples the paper cup, frustrated that he has to wait even one more second to report what he found.
Finally he stops panting long enough to say, “Chief! The groceries! They didn’t bring in the groceries! They sat out in the rain and they didn’t leave a basket for me to bring back down.” Liam just nods along while Steve tries again to explain. With even less patience he says, “I rode my bike to the Scotts’ to deliver the groceries for my dad, but when I got there the basket that I left last month was still at the side door. They never brought it in — for a whole month! And they didn’t leave a basket for me to take down either! Something must’ve happened! Do you think they’re dead?”
“Steve…” Liam says, with a calmness he doesn’t feel. “I’m sure they’re fine. Now you get right back to the store and explain to your dad what happened. You let him know that I’m on my way to check things out and I’ll stop by later. Oh, and Steve, I trust that you will keep this to yourself…” Ste
ve nods before backing out the door. Liam shakes his head and wonders how long he has before the whole town knows what happened.
Liam suspects that things probably are not fine and somewhere in his head he even supposes he was expecting something like this to happen sooner or later. It had been far too quiet for too long and those women were getting on in age. Having lived here his whole life, and with his dad and grandfather being chief of police before him, he knows most of the town’s untold history. He also knows that his family is connected to the Scotts, although he doesn’t know how connected and whenever it comes up in conversation, his father or grandfather changes the subject.
His father did tell him that his great grandfather, Aldo Alexander, lived in the old Scott house many, many years ago under strange circumstances. No more was said and whenever Liam pressed him about it, he was told that all of his questions would be answered when the time was right. In the meantime, he learned it was better to keep the peace in his family, rather than to keep asking questions that he never actually got answers to anyway.
Liam calls his deputy in to cover for him while he goes up to check on the Scotts. When he pulls out of the police station, he smiles and waves at everyone he sees. He can only hope that Steve went right to the store and didn’t stop to tell anyone what he found. The last thing he needs is people in town to start gossiping or panicking. There will be a lot of unhappy people when Steve arrives back to the store without the basket from 3 Sisters. Hell, Liam thinks, I’ll be unhappy if I don’t get my blueberry pie fix this week.
On the outskirts of town, Liam starts the climb up the Scotts’ driveway. He looks around surprised at not only how dense the woods are, but also how green everything is up here, especially compared to the rest of the town. Most of the town’s trees are deciduous, so in early spring most are still pretty bare other than a few buds here and there. On the Scotts’ property, clusters of beech and oak trees stand in their full foliage next to pines and evergreens, making this property a lush oasis. Thousands of flowers are in bloom and while most are wild, some have obviously been planted to accent the various natural rock formations around the property. The trees, flowers, and rocks blend seamlessly together creating a landscape that any gardener would covet.
Approaching the top of the driveway, Liam can just barely see into the backyard, but he notices the herb and vegetable gardens that should be dormant, or just being planted, have already started producing fruits and vegetables. The trees hang heavy with fruit, and Liam thinks to himself that whatever magic these women are using, and it has to be magic, it is definitely working.
He steps out of the jeep and immediately inhales the fresh, clean air. It’s got to be all these trees, he thinks to himself as he looks around the property. Looking back at the house, he sees the covered basket sitting next to the side door, just as Steve described. The recent rain soaked the basket completely and the contents inside will have to be discarded. Rather than looking inside the basket or moving it, he leaves it for now and considers the best way to move forward.
As he is deciding whether to knock at the side door or take a quick walk around the house, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye coming from the walkway leading up to the front door. Removing his firearm from the holster, he leans against the side of the house and listens closely for any other sounds.
He hears the rustling of dried leaves, which grows fainter as soft footsteps move further away from him and up toward the front door. A large planter blocks his view of the walkway, making it impossible to peer around the corner. The only way to get a clear view is to stick his face around the corner, putting it in the direct line of whoever or whatever is ahead waiting for him. His police instincts kick in as he evaluates his surroundings, deciding on the best approach.
Coming up the driveway he noticed that the house has a large wrap-around porch that allows access to the front door from both the front and side yard. Gaining access to the porch from the driveway, where he now stands, would require going around this blind corner and past a wall of shrubs large enough to hide someone, putting him in unnecessary danger. Yet, if he walks around to the back of the house he will alert anyone inside as to his presence, which could be just as dangerous. He decides to face the threat head on, rather than be ambushed from behind.
Knowing it’s a risk, Liam cautiously approaches the walkway from the driveway, listening for the telltale sounds of someone’s presence. A rustling in the bushes directly to his right startles him and he quickly swings toward the noise with his gun drawn.
With quiet authority, he says, “This is Chief Alexander, of the Spring Hill Police Department. I’m asking you to slowly come out from behind the bushes with…” Before he can finish, a black and white blur bursts from behind the hedges causing Liam to point his gun with his finger on the trigger.
Fortunately for the cat, Liam’s quick reflexes kept him from eliminating one of its nine lives. Taking a couple of deep breaths: in and out, in and out, he relaxes, relieved that it was only a cat. He is glad the cat has not found him intriguing enough to stick around. He seems to be done taunting him since he is now lying in a sunny spot in the yard, watching Liam as he makes his way to the front door.
Looking at the house up close, Liam realizes that although the house is more than 200 years old, the condition is impeccable. A fresh coat of white paint has been applied to the new wood siding and the shutters and windows all appear to be brand new. The house has clearly been well maintained; but thinking about it, Liam has never heard of anyone working around the property. It makes sense that the old women can bake and garden, but fixing up a house?
He thinks again of his great grandfather Aldo and the strange connection he had with the Scotts. He wonders if his dad and granddad have anything to do with the upkeep of the house, seeing that they are both retired and quite handy. More than ever he feels a strong need to know the mystery of his great grandfather. He decides right then and there that next time he talks to either his dad or granddad, he will demand answers and ask outright if they have been spending time up here.
On the front porch, three rocking chairs with plush purple cushions invite him to sit and rock. A large fountain slowly trickles water into two planters bursting with colorful flowers sitting on either side of it. On the wall above the fountain, protected from the weather by the covered porch, is a piece of art made of metal that looks like a full moon surrounded by two crescent moons. Although Liam can’t remember ever having seen that symbol before, he somehow recognizes it.
At the front door he knocks, once, twice and then rings the doorbell a couple of times. Peering in the windows, he sees nothing out of the ordinary. Is it possible the women have left or gone on vacation? No, Liam chides himself — that is impossible. In all his 27 years, he has never heard of the women coming down off the hill; and he would have heard about it in this small town where everyone knows everything about everyone, especially when it comes to the 3 Sisters.
He decides to go back around to the side door and have a look at the back of the house before he forces entry. Of all the houses in town, he doesn’t want to break into this house, knowing how much the women value their privacy. He feels a trickle of sweat at the base of his neck stemming from the fear of what he will find when he enters. Not for the first time, he wonders if he should have called his dad and granddad to come up with him, but his intense need to prove something to them, and himself, overrides his gut instinct.
Liam walks back along the sidewalk to the driveway and knocks at the side door. Peering in the windows, he sees an orderly kitchen with everything in place. A pie sits on a rack on the counter with a knife lying next to it, not at all threatening looking, more as if someone was just waiting for the pie to cool before having a slice. Again, nothing external has given him the impression that something is amiss, but intuition tells him that something unusual is definitely happening at this house.
Moving toward the backyard, he becomes aware of a quiet buzzing sound and a
slight vibration. As he rounds the corner, he gets a more expansive view of the gardens. Although not obvious from the driveway, the gardens are arranged in a circular pattern. From where he stands, he can clearly see they are designed to make it easy to harvest the herbs quickly. Round paver stones provide pathways through the plants and herbs, and then continue back toward the dense woods at the edge of the yard. Although plenty of fruits and vegetables grow in and around the garden, he can only smell the herbs. He smells rosemary, basil, thyme, mint, coriander, and sage.
He is surprised that he can identify each herb by smell, since he is not a gardener or a cook. The name of each plant comes to his mind as if from a whisper, telling him not only the name, but also guiding his eyes to the plant in the garden. He can easily picture when and how to plant and harvest the herbs, and when he stops to consciously think about what he is seeing and feeling, he knows something profound is happening to him. Had someone asked him about the garden five minutes ago, he would not have been able to name any of the plants, let alone know when to harvest them.
Moving on, he discovers the buzzing sound coming from a beehive that is obviously intended to produce honey. Again, he visualizes himself wearing the protective clothing and extracting the honey from the honeycomb, although he has never done so before and has never seen the process that he is now picturing himself doing.
Confused by the litany of images flashing through his mind, Liam shakes his head to pull himself out of this reverie, déjà vu, or whatever is happening to him. He cannot imagine doing the things he just pictured, but he knows that somehow he has acquired the knowledge and the skills to plant, grow, and harvest everything in this garden. Unsure of what it all means, he continues examining the house for any sign of forced entry or for any sign of the three sisters.
Arriving back at the front door with no more knowledge of what is going on, no evidence of foul play, and no sign of the women, he decides to break in. He continues around to the side door where the windowpanes can be broken individually, which will allow him to easily reach in to unlock the door with minimal damage to the window and himself. Careful so as not to break more of the window than he intends, he butts the end of his Maglite against the windowpane. The glass pane shatters easily and he puts his ear close to the opening, listening for any sounds from within the house.
After the Summerland (The Witches of Spring Hill Book 1) Page 1