Greeted each morning by crows and sung to sleep each night by the loons. I knew from now on I would never hear their calls without remembering this place.
Scratching on the glass doors interrupted my musings. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Lady with her nose pressed against the glass. Her tail waved while she looked at me with anticipation.
“You want to go for a walk, don’t you?”
Her head cocked and her tail wagged faster, as if she’d understood me.
“Okay,” I said, walking to the door and sliding it open.
She let out a short bark and ran to the kitchen door. I followed her.
“Shush,” I said, and snapped the leash on her collar. “If you wake everybody up, you won’t get to go. Darci will want to go detecting and Abby will want to mix up some potion. And we’ll be busy trying to keep them both out of trouble.”
Grabbing a sweatshirt from the hook by the door, I threw it on over my T-shirt and sweatpants and off we went.
I wanted to avoid the path to Walks Quietly’s cabin, so we went in the other direction. Soon we came to another path leading down to the lake. Maybe from there I could get a closer look at the ducks I’d watched from the deck. I whistled for Lady to follow and headed toward the path. But when I rounded the corner, I saw we weren’t alone.
Walks Quietly sat on a boulder at the edge of the lake. Tink sat at his feet on a blanket. His hands rested lightly on his knees and his head was bent toward the girl.
Tink’s face wore a rapt expression as she stared up at him.
His deep voice carried up from the lake and he appeared to be telling Tink a story.
Wordlessly, I motioned for Lady to sit, and I listened.
Many years ago when the earth was young and the stars were new, there were two brother eagles. Elder Brother was thoughtful and respected others. Younger Brother was arrogant and thought of no one but himself. Younger Brother wished always to best Elder Brother.
One day as the morning sun greeted the world, Elder Brother decided to fly as high as the clouds. Up and up he flew, his strong wings beating against the wind. From his lofty place in the blue sky, he saw the mountains with white peaks below. Rivers snaked through lush green valleys carrying water to all the villages. Forests of great pines, white birch, and red maples stretched across the world beneath him. The beauty he saw swelled his heart and made him glad.
Happy in his flight, he slowly returned to earth and told Younger Brother of all the wonders he had seen.
Younger Brother asked, “Why did you stop? Why didn’t you fly higher and higher?”
“I am satisfied with the wonders I have seen and wished to return to continue in the ways of our father,” Elder Brother answered simply.
The next day Younger Brother thought about what Elder Brother had accomplished. “I can do better,” he thought. “I am stronger, I can fly higher, and I can see more wonders than my brother.”
Younger Brother took flight. He flew over the white-peaked mountains, the lush valleys, and the great forests, but he didn’t see their beauty. All he wanted was to fly higher and higher.
And while he did, the sun grew hotter and hotter. But Younger Brother didn’t care. All he thought of was beating his brother. He glanced down once and saw the earth, a small round ball below.
“I am higher than any eagle has ever flown. From here, I could rule the world,” he said. He flew higher still.
The sun beat down so hot on his head feathers that they began to smoke. Still he did not stop his upward flight. Finally he could stand the heat no longer and he swiftly returned to earth to cool his burning head and neck.
Once he’d safely landed on the shore of a great lake, Younger Brother saw his reflection in the quiet water. All the beautiful feathers on his head and neck were gone. He was bald and ugly. No longer a handsome eagle who could rule the world.
“Younger Brother, you will rule the world, as you wished for in your arrogance and rudeness.” The voice of the Great Spirit drifted across the lake. “But not as a mighty eagle. You will rule as one who cleans the earth of dead things, of carrion. None will admire you and all will shun you.”
That is how the bird known as the vulture came to be.
Tink smiled up at Walks Quietly. “And the lesson of the story is, ‘Be careful what you wish for, you might get more than you expected.’”
Walks Quietly patted her head. “That’s right, little one,” he said, smiling.
I didn’t think the man knew how to smile.
Tink’s head suddenly whipped in my direction and violet eyes glared at me.
Lady, remembering her new friend, Tink, gave a happy bark and headed down the hill.
I had no choice but to follow.
Lady ran up to Tink and planted wet, doggy kisses all over the girl’s face. Laughing, Tink threw her arms around Lady’s neck and gave her a hug, while Walks Quietly watched the scene with a fond expression on his face. But when he turned toward me, his expression changed and hard brown eyes stared at me.
Embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping, I hung my head.
“Do you spy on people every day?” His tone seemed soft, but it carried a reproach.
Refusing to be intimidated, I stood straighter. “No, I don’t spy on people—” I stopped, remembering yesterday. “Okay, so yesterday I watched you uninvited—”
“That’s the definition for spying, isn’t it?” Walks Quietly cut in.
“All right, I was spying. There, I confessed.” I fisted my hands on my hips.
A slight smile played at the corner of his mouth.
“But I wasn’t spying today,” I said defensively. “Lady wanted to go for a walk.”
Walks Quietly reached out and patted Lady’s head. “So this is Lady. Tink told me about her. Nice dog.”
Lady turned her attention from Tink to him, and with one swipe of a pink tongue licked his hand.
He gave her a genuine smile.
“Look, I’m sorry I interrupted you,” I said. “I really didn’t mean to overhear your story, but I kind of got engrossed in the tale.”
Walks Quietly stood slowly, as if his joints ached. “It’s an old tale, but one people would do well to remember.” He reached down to Tink and pulled her to her feet. “You’d better get home, little one, before they miss you,” he said in a kind voice.
“Do I have to?” she pleaded.
“Yes,” he replied.
She gave Lady a hug and me a frown, before scurrying up the hill.
Walks Quietly followed her, passing me without speaking.
On the way back to the cabin, my mind felt like it was twisted in knots. So many things had happened; so many things didn’t make sense. “Where have you been?” a voice from behind me said.
I skidded to a stop and whirled around. “Rick. What are you doing here?” I glared at him. “And what are you doing jumping out of the trees, scaring me like that?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t jump out of the trees, but I’m sorry if I startled you.” He fell into step beside me. “What are you doing out here so early in the morning?”
“Lady wanted to go for a walk.” I gestured toward the lake. “I ran into Walks Quietly and Tink down there. Neither one seemed happy to see us. Wait—let me rephrase that,” I said with a wry grin. “They were happy to see Lady, but the same can’t be said for me.”
“Not winning any popularity contests?”
“Nope.”
Rick gave me a playful nudge in the ribs. “Hey, Jensen, I still like you.”
“Right,” I said in a sarcastic voice.
“No.” Rick placed a hand over his heart. “I really do like you, Jensen. I—”
“Will you stop?” I lifted a hand, halting the stream of words. “It’s too early in the morning for joking around.”
He kicked a small stone across the lane. “Okay. I heard from the forensic accountant,” he said, changing the subject.
“What did he find out?”
A smug
look crossed Rick’s face. “You’re not going to believe it. After what he learned, I stayed up past midnight surfing the Web for more information.”
My curiosity poked its little head out. “Well, tell me.”
“Juliet Finch is Violet Butler’s great-niece,” he said with a flourish.
“No sh—er, no kidding?” I caught Rick’s sudden grin out of the corner of my eye. “So they own the place?”
“No, it’s held in a trust, but Juliet has lifetime rights.”
“The Butlers never had any children?”
“No, they raised Violet’s niece, Mona, as their own. She was a devoted daughter to them. Even took care of Violet after Victor Butler died.” Rick paused and gave me a sideways look. “In fact Mona and Violet died together in a house fire back in 1995. Seems Violet liked smoking in bed.”
“Any other family?”
“Not that I could find. There was a sister, must’ve been Tink’s mother. She died a couple of years after Violet and Mona.”
“Of an illness?”
“No, some kind of accident, but I couldn’t find out what.”
I felt a breeze prickle my skin. “None of these women died of natural causes?”
“Nope. Seems the women in the Butler family don’t die of natural causes.”
“That’s strange.” I rubbed my arms, chilled again by the breeze.
“I think so. I also think it’s strange all these deaths occurred after Juliet married Jason.”
Seventeen
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I put my hair in a twist and held the strands in place with long bobby pins. While I did, my gaze slid to Abby, sitting on the edge of the tub, watching me.
“Okay, so tell me again why you aren’t going to this dinner tonight?” I said, fastening the last pin in place.
Abby gave me long, patient look. “I don’t think it would be wise to take Darci. I’m afraid her curiosity might give more away at this point in time than we want. Winnie might be easily fooled, but I don’t think Juliet and Jason Finch would be.”
“So you’re staying home to babysit her.” My mouth turned down in a frown. “And sending me, alone, into the lion’s den.”
Abby’s chuckle echoed off the tiled walls. “Don’t you think you’re being a tad overdramatic, my dear?”
“These people could be kidnappers. What if I don’t come back?”
“I’ll send Rick to storm the gates,” Abby said, still smiling.
My frown deepened. “No thanks. I’ll rescue myself if I need to.”
“I thought as much.” Abby rose and came to stand behind me, our reflections joined in the mirror.
Her eyes were twinkling with humor, but mine narrowed with worry.
Her expression changed as the humor slipped away. “Is your head still bothering you?”
“Yes,” I said, opening the medicine cabinet and grabbing the aspirin. “I think I’ve taken a ton of these today.” I shot the pills to the back of my throat and chased them down with a long drink of water. “Yuck,” I said, and wiped my mouth with a towel. “I think they’re starting to upset my stomach.”
Abby studied my face in the mirror. “Drink some chamomile tea when you get home. It will relieve the stress you’re feeling and help you sleep.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let the leaves steep for five minutes, okay?”
“Okay.” I patted her hand and plastered an encouraging smile on my face. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to worry. That’s my job, remember?”
Abby’s reflection smiled back at me in the mirror. “Ophelia, I’ve worried about you since the day you were born, and will till the day they lay me in my grave. That’s my job.”
When Abby said the word “grave,” a shiver ran up my back and I felt tears tease at the corner of my eyes. “I don’t like it when you use words like that.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “What words?”
I looked down. I didn’t want to meet her gaze in the mirror. “You know—‘grave,’” I said softly.
Both hands squeezed my shoulders. “Oh my dear,” she said, her voice full of love, and a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Everyone must die someday.”
“But not for a long time, right?” I heard the desperation in my words. A world without Abby was unthinkable to me.
She nodded. “Right.” Studying my face again, her smile faded. “Maybe you shouldn’t go tonight. You’re awfully pale.”
“I can fix that,” I said with bravado, and picked up the makeup brush Darci had insisted I buy.
I swirled the brush around in the blush, another item she’d convinced me that I needed, and with heavy strokes applied it to my face. “There, how’s that?” I asked, eyeing myself in the mirror.
Abby cocked her head and winced. “I think you should soften the color a bit. Right now you resemble a Kewpie doll.”
She was right—my cheekbones wore two bright pink circles.
“Dang it, I’m never going to get the hang of all this stuff,” I said, waving my hand at the makeup that littered the back of the sink.
“Here, try this,” she said, and handed me one of those funny triangle-shaped sponges. “Blend everything in with this.”
I wiped the sponge across my cheeks. “Humph, not bad,” I said, turning my head this way and that. “It almost looks natural.”
Abby laughed. “That’s the point, Ophelia. You’re not supposed to look like you have makeup on.”
“Now that’s stupid. Why wear it, then?”
Abby rolled her eyes. “I give up.” She paused and looked me up and down. “You look very nice. The outfit flatters you.”
I glanced down at my clothes. We’d decided my jeans and funky T-shirts wouldn’t cut it for a dinner with the Finches, so Darci and Abby had picked my clothes for the evening. The outfit they’d come up with was a strange mix of pieces from both their wardrobes. The skirt belonged to Abby, as did the shirt I wore open over the sparkly little number Darci insisted I borrow. I didn’t fill the knit top out as well as Darci did, but it looked okay.
Twenty minutes later I was walking up the graveled path to the door of the main cabin at the compound.
I stopped for a minute and gaped. Cabin—ha. The structure, made of weathered logs, was two stories high. A balcony ran all the way around the second story. Above the balcony a pitched roof, shingled in cedar shakes, pointed toward the night sky. Standing there, gazing at the house, it seemed that the roof’s sharp peak aimed straight at the waxing moon.
A rectangle of light suddenly stretched across the ground and ended at my feet. My eyes followed the path of light to where Juliet stood in the open doorway.
Swinging the door wide, she motioned for me to come in. “Ophelia, I’m so glad you could join us tonight,” she said when I reached her.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I replied.
“There will only be five of us tonight. We eat our main meal together at noon, so the rest of the group won’t be joining us,” she said over her shoulder as we walked into the main room.
The cavernous room was two stories high, with the second floor balcony running around three sides. Walls made of white pine logs stretched toward the peaked ceiling overhead. And windows, overlooking the lake, ran from the planked floor to the uppermost point of the peak. Hallways on both sides led away from the main part of the house.
A kitchen, separated from the rest of the room by a long counter, sat to my right. I saw Winnie buzzing back and forth from the stove to the cabinets, removing bowls from the cupboards. Noticing me, she gave me a quick nod and resumed her tasks.
The smell of beeswax filled the room from the dozens of candles glowing everywhere. Candles on a table next to heavy pottery plates and chunky glasses; on a stand in the corner, next to a loom with a half-finished piece of fabric attached to the frame.
Spying the loom, I turned to Juliet. “Do you mind if I look at your work?”
“Of course not. Do you weave?” she asked, leading me towar
d the windows and the loom.
“No, I don’t,” I said, admiring the brightly colored threads.
She ran her hand across the piece. “I love weaving.” Her face took on a faraway look. “To me, it represents life. All the threads form a pattern in the fabric, just the way events form the pattern of our lives. Pull one thread, and the whole piece unravels.” She shook her head, snapping out of her mood. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so philosophical.”
“That’s okay. It’s wonderful you enjoy it so much.” I examined the unfinished piece. “And you do beautiful work.”
“Thank you,” she said shyly. “But it’s more than just creating something useful. The act calms me, lets me get in touch with my inner self, and opens my mind to another dimension.”
“You’re psychic,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
“You mean like your grandmother?” she asked, smiling.
My mouth dropped open. “How—How…” I stuttered.
Juliet laughed. “Don’t be concerned, Ophelia. We don’t broadcast what we learn here. Winnie saw what happened the other day in the grocery store between your grandmother and that group of boys. She’s trained to see what others miss.” She paused. “Your grandmother must be very talented.”
“We don’t talk about it,” I mumbled.
She laid a hand gently on my arm. “You have no need to fear; you’ll find acceptance with us. We’ve learned everyone has a certain amount of talent.” Her face tightened in a frown. “But our narrowed-minded society refuses to let individuals explore their potential. And without that, there—” She stopped abruptly and her face brightened. “Jason.”
I turned and saw Jason, walking into the room with Tink by his side. One hand rested lightly on the girl’s narrow shoulders, but when he saw Juliet, the hand dropped. He hurried across the room. Tink stopped and stood rooted in the center of the room.
The Trouble with Witches Page 12