Bewitching My Love

by Diane Story

  “Yes, we are. But, now we have to leave before we are found out. We have to find shelter until we can decide how to handle our predicament.”

  “Where will we go, Rowen, I saw what it looked like out there. There won’t be any place to hide.”

  “I know of a cave, situated just outside of the village. I used to play there when it was an old tire junkyard. I would think it would be there now, considering it was hundreds of years old then.” He became quiet when he heard someone approaching. “Let’s go, someone is coming.”

  Fern ran behind Rowen until they stood just past the back entrance of the house. They waited in the bushes until they were sure they wouldn’t be seen. Before taking Rowen’s hand and following him through the woods, she turned one more time to look back. In the doorway of the house an old woman stood staring out toward their direction. “Rowen? Is she Mary’s mother?

  “I don’t know, Fern. Maybe, I guess, she could be. Come on, we need to move before it gets any darker.” He pulled her hand but she stood her ground.

  “Look at her, Rowen. It’s as if she knows we’re here.” Fern was grounded to her spot. The eyes, there was something about the old woman’s eyes that held her transfixed.

  They stood staring until the old woman smiled. She was holding a bucket in her wrinkled hands that were crooked from arthritis. As she tossed the dirty water it had inside to the ground, she laughed wickedly before going back into the house. The last thing Fern heard was her voice, screeching loudly as it echoed inside.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Mary! Have you readied us our supper, child?” Creeping back in to sit by the fire, Elizabeth read from one of the great books of her ancestors, the witches of her past.

  “A sorrow greater than any of our past will fall against our blood. Our sister Mary will be taken unto death by the accusations of a scornful woman. We empower Mary’s mother, our sister Elizabeth to bring upon the ancestors of Mary’s accusers the sentence of death in any way she may see fit. A curse will be spoken from her lips on the 17th day of June 1692 given in our language for the 17th generation of Mary’s accuser and for Mary’s own 17th generation to carry forth.”

  She’d been right, this girl named Fern who resembled her Mary was indeed the seventeenth generation. Come back early to stop the curse. Laughter shook her old bones, causing her rheumatism to flare painfully.

  “Don’t you know child, that you cannot change your future?”

  * * * *

  The village was dark by the time Rowen found the cave. They must have made the same circles over and over. Fern was still in shock; she sat on a fallen stump watching Rowen search the bushes wondering when her nightmare was going to end. As they ducked and huddled under trees trying to avoid being seen, the first thing that caught her attention was the rope hanging from the gallows on a hill outside of the village. It had a noose dangling from it, and her stomach lurched upward when Rowen whispered in her ear to tell her what it was used for.

  “Come on Fern, I found the cave. It’s just over here.” Rowen pulled her from the stump, dragging her behind him until they had to duck under the bushes to enter it. It was pitch black inside. There was no moon in the sky tonight and if it weren’t for the hundreds of fireflies flickering around he’d have never found it.

  “Rowen, how will we be able to see? Can we build a fire somehow?” She spoke into the blackness because she had no clue where he was after he’d let got of her hand. Even with all the history books she’d ever read about Salem and its witches, nothing came close to describing the feelings one actually experienced being in the place. “Rowen, where are you?” She reached out trying to find him and practically jumped out of her skin when he moved under her hands. His body was hard, like a smooth rock.

  “I’m right here, Fern. We cannot start a fire until I know it will not be seen from the village. I bought some Spanish silver from an antique dealer last week. Tomorrow I’ll go to the village and purchase some blankets and more clothing for us. I put some undergarments for us in my bag and a few other items I thought might come in handy. These reproductions we have on right now were made by our modern machines, I’m sure it wouldn’t take long for someone to notice. I know you must be starving, Fern, but for tonight we must do with what we have. You can take your cape off and use it as a pillow. Or you can lean against me if you like.” The latter was more appealing to him.

  Fern was still angry with him. The thought of leaning against him didn’t appeal to her better instincts although it did appeal to her female instincts. She shuffled her feet together until she felt the edge of the wall, then scooted down until she could sit up against it. “I’ll be fine right here, Rowen. This cape, as you call it will stay right where it is. And if you don’t mind me asking, how did you buy underwear for me when you don’t know my size?”

  “Suit yourself, Fern. But one of us has to sleep if we are to start working on a resolution to our problem tomorrow. And if you must know, I paid the clerk at that lingerie place on the mall you frequent to tell me your size. I told her I was your fiancé and she thought it was romantic that I would buy you those items.” The memory of it made him smile. The job wasn’t easy until he started to picture her in the flimsy material, then he had no trouble picking out what he thought she would need or look delectable in. He slid down beside her, trying not to run into her in the dark. She was close, so close that he could feel her thigh next to his.

  Fern dared not let herself think about her panties sliding through his long fingers. The shop he was referring to didn’t keep anything matronly on its shelves; she could just imagine what he had for her. And although her cheeks must be ten shades of red, she was curious. Irritated, she pushed the thought from her mind. “Rowen, you said the only way to break the curse is for you and I to fall in love with each other. I’m having trouble believing that. Why would Mary’s mother plan on us falling in love, isn’t love what caused this mess in the first place? It would seem to me she would want us to hate each other, not love each other.”

  “Yes, it would seem strange, wouldn’t it Fern. Trust me, I’ve read the journals over and over, and I cannot find any other way. Except to stop the execution from happening all together. And at that, I am still trying to find a way to do it without causing suspicion. It is obvious now that you look too much like Mary for me to allow you to go into the village. I’ll have to go alone.” He shifted his weight until the rock he was sitting on wasn’t underneath him anymore. He could feel the heat from her body and wondered what her thigh would feel like without their clothes between them. “Fern, I promise not to bite you, please feel free to lie against me.” He felt her tense.

  Amazed at how lightly he was taking their situation and what he’d done to her to get her there, she looked at him angrily. “You poison me then drag me through a wardrobe to another time, now you’re telling me that in order to insure your future existence, we have to fall in love before the next ten days are up? You know, Rowen, you could have at least given us more time. You should have told me before taking me without my consent.” She took a deep breath and tried not to cry, she wasn’t one for tears, more comfortable with anger. “Now, you want me to have enough trust to lie against you and sleep! What sort of idiot do you think I am, anyway?”

  “I’m trying to make this as easy as possible for both of us, Fern. The sooner we learn to get along, the better off we’ll be.” He wouldn’t let her temper get to him; he had to keep a cool head. “And for your information, I didn’t poison you. I gave you a few sleeping pills, the kind you get off the shelf from any pharmacy. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to rest, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Rowen had to think about things, her continual bickering wasn’t helping. He thought about what he was going to tell her when she found out about his lie. If she knew that the only way for the curse to be broken wasn’t by them falling in love but by her taking Mary’s place on the gallows, she would run for certain. He’d only been with her for a day and was al
ready deeply attracted to her. His future depended on his ability to guard his emotions while he was with her. A test he wasn’t looking forward to.

  Fern felt Rowen’s body relax next to her; by the steady rhythm of his breathing she knew he was asleep. Tomorrow while he was gone, she would sneak away, go back to the wardrobe and go home. Surely it would work both ways. Or maybe she could wake up tomorrow morning and be back in her own bed, away from this nightmare. How could he sleep? Crossing her arms against her chest, she sulked, for hours it seemed, until the crickets no longer chirped outside the opening of the cave. Reluctantly she let her eyelids fall; she was asleep before her head found its way to his shoulder.

  * * * *

  The sun was just beginning to filter through the opening of the cave when Rowen heard the footsteps. He’d been watching Fern’s sleeping face where it was lying in his lap. She really was something to look at; he could understand now why Jonathan fell so hard for Mary. Shaking her gently, he tried to wake her without speaking. The footsteps were getting closer and he didn’t want them to be found. They couldn’t be found. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear. “Fern, wake up, honey. Someone is coming.”

  “What?” She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “What did you say?” Fern blinked her tired eyes.

  “Shhh, Fern. You must be quiet. Someone is coming.” He was tempted to cover her mouth with his hand.

  When she looked up and found Rowen staring at her with his finger over his mouth, she sat up quickly and pushed herself away from him. “What did you say, Rowen?” She watched his brows furrow in anger and frowned.

  “I said, be quiet. Don’t you ever listen?” Rowen hissed between tight lips. “There is someone walking around outside. We must be quiet.” He stared at her in disbelief. Removing his finger from his mouth he put it over hers then turned away when the footsteps stopped outside the entrance.

  They both sat staring at the opening. Fern scooted herself closer to Rowen when she saw the hem of the dress and the small heels of the black lace-up shoes. She was glad his finger was against her mouth to keep the gasp from escaping her when a wooden bucket of water was set down with a thud, splashing its contents all around it, the water then soaked up instantly in the hot sun. Fern looked at Rowen with questioning in her eyes. He shook his head, indicating he to had no clue what the woman was doing. They both sat completely still when her voice broke the silence.

  “I know you have hidden in the cave. You have come afore your time. Take this water, and then take your leave from this place. You cannot break the curse. You cannot!” Her harsh voice carried through the cave, echoing against the walls.

  Fern had taken hold of Rowen’s arm when the wicked old voice broke the silence; now she squeezed him so tightly her hands hurt. She sat next to him staring at the hem of the brown wool dress until it had disappeared beyond their view, then into the forest beyond. “How could she possibly know, Rowen? What will we do now?” she whispered.

  Rowen gently pulled Fern’s fingers from his arm. She was strong; he’d give her that. “I don’t know, Fern. But this does pose a problem.” Then slowly he smiled. “Actually, it is to our advantage. The old woman cannot reveal our presence without giving herself away as a witch. The way I see it, she cannot do a thing to stop us. Are you thirsty? Stay here while I get the bucket.”

  Fern was still trying to bring the pulse of her racing heart back down to a normal beat. The voice of the old lady still echoed in her head. “I don’t want anything from her, Rowen. She probably laced it with poison.”

  “No, she wouldn’t take the chance of killing us, Fern, she needs us.” He crawled back through the opening with the bucket of water then drank thirstily from the dipper she’d left in it. Afterward he held it out to Fern.

  Fern stared at the wooden dipper, and then looked back up at Rowen. “Maybe I should wait to see if you die before I take a drink.”

  Rowen’s laughter bellowed against the walls of the cave. He couldn’t believe it, Fern was genuinely afraid of the water. “Look, I’m not dead and I don’t feel sick. I told you, Fern, she knows there is nothing she can do about us right now. Drink the water, I assure you it isn’t poison.”

  Maybe dead would be better than what she was going through right now. With one last silent prayer of penitence, Fern drank the water then sat back against the cave. Her lips still tingled from where his finger touched them. She let her tongue run over the spot to see if she could taste him, then blushed wildly when she realized what she was doing. What did she care what he tasted like; she still hated him for dragging her away from her home. Home! Oh no, Wicca would be alone. “Rowen, I just remembered my kitty, Wicca, he’s all alone back home. What if he gets hungry, or thirsty? I have to go back, right now.”

  He didn’t know about Fern, but he was starved. His last meal was breakfast, yesterday. “I’ll be leaving soon, Fern. I’m starved and I’m sure you are, too. I’ll be bringing some food back with me.” He watched her frown when he didn’t answer her question about her cat. Dropping the dipper back in the bucket he answered. “Your cat is safe, Fern. I made plans for him to be taken to my home for safe keeping until our return. Interesting name, ‘Wicca’—whatever made you choose it?”

  “You seem to have your fingers in all of my business!” His grin made her angry again; she wanted to wipe those perfect dimples off his equally perfect face. “Surely you know what Wicca means, Rowen! We do live in Salem, home of the witches.” She watched him feign innocence. “Wicca is the name for a modern witch, don’t act coy with me.”

  “Just testing you, Fern, now drink some more water. It’s cold, maybe it’ll cool down that temper of yours.” He wondered if her red hair could get any redder. It seemed like every spark of anger made it even more brilliant.

  “I want to go along with you, Rowen. I can’t see any reason for me to stay here by myself. Especially now that the witch knows we’re here.” The water was good, dropping the dipper into the bucket again, she watched him frown.

  “No Fern. Any day now Sarah will be discovering the affair between Mary and Jonathan. If you get caught in the middle of that, well, there’s no telling what would happen. We could get struck here forever. Or worse yet, we could be put in a ducking stool and tortured until we are forced to tell why we came here. Is that what you want?”

  “I don’t want to stay here in this dark cave for the next ten, or nine days now waiting for you to decide my fate.” Sitting back against the cave, holding her knees, she sipped from the ladle. “If I keep this ridiculous cape over my head, no one will be the wiser. Please Rowen, don’t make me stay here alone.” She let her eyes scan the walls, and shuddered. The place made her skin crawl. She wouldn’t stay here alone, no matter what he threatened her with.

  Rowen couldn’t blame her for being afraid. The place was creepy. “I’ll go to the village first, Fern, if it looks like there won’t be any trouble, I’ll take you next time.” He rose up in preparation to leave. “And in case you’re thinking you might want to go back through the wardrobe, Fern, forget it. It won’t work. The curse hasn’t been made yet, remember?” He felt the hatred emanating from her. “Don’t hate me, Fern, it wasn’t my ancestors that did this to us.”

  She glared at him in a way that surprised even her. Sliding her hand around in the sand, she felt for a rock. Maybe she could hit him in the head and make a run for it. “No, it wasn’t, was it, Rowen? But then it was your ancestor that committed adultery with Mary. Wouldn’t you think he is at least partly to blame?”

  Rowen refused to lose patience with her. They had to keep calm, especially him. “I’m not going to argue with you, Fern, I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Fern watched him dip under the cave opening and yelled out at him, “By the way, what is a ducking stool?”

  “You don’t want to know, trust me.” Rowen yelled back before he disappeared down the trail the old woman had followed.

  Peering back around at the cave, Fern started noticing
things about it that she’d missed earlier. The sun was shining in well enough now to give her sufficient light to see. It wasn’t large, in fact only about the size of a broom closet. “Well, I suppose I could tidy up a bit.” She listened to her words echo against the walls and cringed. Was the entire place creepy or was it just her frame of mind? Either way, she didn’t appreciated being left alone.

  After tossing the rock she had in her hand out through the opening, she dug around until she found all of the loose ones she could and threw them out as well. She was just finishing up against the back of the cave when her fingers wrapped around what felt like a chain. She pulled gently until it came loose from the rock it was buried under. Scooting over to get closer to the light, she looked at her treasure. In her hand lay the most exquisite gold cross she’d ever seen. It was gothic-looking with stones that looked like rubies placed in a line down the middle and out toward each side of the cross. Rolling it over in her hand she read the inscription “For my Mary.”

  “You have found my child’s cross. Give it to me now, lest I not spare you.”

  Fern looked up into the dark eyes of the old woman. Holding the cross to her bosom she jumped backward, until her back was pierced by the rocks of the cave wall. The old woman’s laughter mixed with her shrill scream. Together, they echoed against the walls of the small cave.

  * * * *

  Rowen stood staring at the map he’d printed off the Internet. If it was accurate, they had to be in the Northfield’s. Last night it was to dark for him to tell, but he knew they’d walked a ways before finding the cave. He continued on until he crossed a creek close to the orchard farm and then turned west toward the village.

  He was wondering how the old woman knew who they were. They would have to avoid her, she was apparently a much more powerful witch than his ancestors realized.