by Ashlyn Chase
“I’d like to give her something nice from the bakery if I can. She took me to her hairdresser and went above and beyond for me.”
“That was mighty nice of her. I got the same offer to talk from the psychologist.” Dru led the way toward his pick-up and Shasta skipped along beside him.
“I’m gonna miss Mrs. Reese.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that doctor though.”
Dru chuckled. “Well, you can’t dance with everyone.”
“Dance?” Shasta’s eyes lit up. “I think I remember dancing.”
He grinned. “You probably do. You loved the barn dances we had. You also took ballet lessons when you were little.”
“Ballet?”
“Yep.”
She tried to pirouette, or whatever it was called when a ballet dancer whirled around on one toe, and didn’t do half badly.
“So, if we were poor ranch folk, who paid for my ballet lessons?”
Dru had never thought about that before. He’d taken guitar lessons too. “I guess momma saved a little money here and there.”
He opened the passenger side door, and she hopped in. He jogged around to the other side and got in too. It surprised him that she was so trusting after a rape—which she didn’t remember, he reminded himself.
Maybe because her nature was trusting, that’s how the rape happened. Getting her home would probably be the best thing for her. The ranch employees were like a whole bunch of big brothers who would look out for her. He just hoped none of them would ever hear about the rape. They would probably be as angry as he was when he found out. If she divulged the guy’s identity, they’d form a lynch mob.
After Drew got in and they’d pulled out onto the road, he asked, “Just out of curiosity…did you dye your hair black?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t know why.”
He slowly shook his head. “Did you call Mike? Tell him to meet you at the bakery?”
“Not yet. I—uh. I was wondering if you’d mind my uninviting you to come with us. It’s not that I don’t want you there…it’s just that I think I need to talk to him alone.”
Dru didn’t answer at first. He knew she was an adult, but part of him didn’t want to let her out of his sight.
“I won’t be that long,” she added. “I want to get back and learn how to help Rebecca while I’m there. Earn my keep, so to speak.”
He nodded. “Sure. I understand. She’d be mighty appreciative of your help too. I’m afraid I’m not very good at baking. I can eat and say, ‘Yum, yum,’ though.”
She chuckled. “Is that why you were walking around with samples?”
“You saw me?”
“Yeah. You saw me too. I was on the back of Mike’s motorcycle.”
Shit. That was her? “Wait a minute. I just got you back. I don’t know if I want you riding around on a motorcycle.”
Shasta rolled her eyes. “I’m an adult. According to you. And you’re my brother, not my father.”
Dru groaned. “We’ve had this conversation before…”
“I guess you’ve tried to run my life before.”
He raked his hands through his hair and tried to follow his own cowboy advice…namely the one about talking slowly and thinking quickly. “This is a little different.”
“How?”
She’s still challenging my opinions, even without knowing she’s famous for that. He didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.
When he pulled into the small driveway beside the bakery he turned off the engine and gave her his best no nonsense stare. “Just be careful. Okay?”
“Okay.” Then she offered him an olive branch. “I understand you’re just lookin’ out for me.”
“I’ll try not to be too bossy.”
She extended her hand. “Shake on it?”
He grasped her hand and shook it. At least she didn’t spit in her palm first.
Rebecca was taking a tray of raspberry turnovers out of the oven when she felt something warm and strong slide around her waist. “Eep!” As she bolted upright, the hot pan almost flew out of her hands.
Dru chuckled and kissed her cheek.
“Sheesh.” She set the tray on the counter and whirled around. “You scared me.”
He swooped in and kissed away her protest. She melted in his arms and grasped his back with her oven mitts.
Rebecca heard the unmistakable sound of a throat clearing. She broke the kiss and gazed over Dru’s shoulder.
Shasta stood in the doorway, holding a plastic trash bag.
“Hi, Shasta. Are those your clothes and things?”
“Yeah. I probably had a suitcase at one time, but where it is now, God only knows.” She glanced at the trash bag and shrugged as if apologizing.
“Uh…I thought Dru said you were Wiccan.”
“I am?”
Rebecca slapped the side of her own head. “I’m sorry. Of course, you don’t remember that either.”
Shasta smiled. “Hey, it’s nice to learn these things. I’ll put the information all together and maybe someday it’ll make sense.”
“I’m sure it will. You’re welcome to put your stuff upstairs in the guest room. Dru, can you show her?”
He kissed Rebecca’s forehead. “Yup. I’ll be right back down.” He whispered in her ear. “Then we need to talk.”
As the two of them tromped up the stairs, Rebecca imagined what he might want to talk about. When they’d be leaving, most likely. She didn’t want to think about it and had been trying not to. She tried to think of anything else he might want to discuss and couldn’t come up with much of anything. The weather?
She swallowed a lump while lining a tray with wax paper.
Dru trotted down the stairs and took a seat at the bistro table. “Can you find a few minutes to talk?”
“I, uh…sure.” She could let the turnovers cool a while longer. In fact, it would be better if she did.
She set aside what she had been doing and joined him at the table. He reached across and grasped her hand.
“I sure do appreciate all you’ve done for me, and now you’re welcoming Shasta into your home as if it’s nothin’.”
“It is nothin’.” She mimicked his accent and smiled, hoping to keep the conversation light. Any minute now, he’d tell her they’d decided to go back home—and break her heart.
“Shasta’s callin’ Mike now, and the two of them are goin’ out to lunch without me. I don’t rightly know what she wants to tell him, but I figured I’d present my idea to you first. Then we can deal with whatever she has to say later.”
Rebecca tipped her head. “You have an idea?”
“Yeah.” He stared at the table a moment, then, as if he’d made a decision he took a deep breath. “I want to take her home…and I want you to come with us.”
Rebecca had been prepared for the first part, but the second part of his idea took her completely by surprise. “What? You mean to Texas?”
He smiled and stroked her hand with his thumb. “I don’t want to leave without you, darlin’. I’m in love with you, and it would be like leaving without my arm or my leg.”
She sat up straight and pulled her hand back. “This is sudden.”
“Not to me. I’ve been rollin’ it around in my brain for a few days. Look. I didn’t want to tell you before, but I’m in danger of losin’ my job, if I don’t get my ass back to the ranch as soon as possible.”
She worried her lip. “Would that be so awful? As soon as Shasta’s settled, you could pack up your things and get a job here.”
“I don’t think there’s much call for cowboys in New England.” He smiled sadly. “And that’s all I know.”
“Hmmm. Well, I’m not familiar with the job market in Texas, but I’m not crazy about exploring it either. I like owning my own business.”
Dru reached over and took her hand again. “That’s just it. I think there might be a job for you on the ranch, and you’d be in charge of it.”
She raised her eyebrows. �
��What would I do on a ranch?”
“What you do here…cook.”
“I don’t cook. I bake.”
“You’ve cooked me dinner, and you’re as good a cook as you are a baker. The ranch owner’s wife is a terrible cook and doesn’t mind admittin’ it. They’ve been puttin’ up with hot dogs and beans for as long as they care to.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I—I have to think about this.”
“There’s something else to think about. Up here you have gangsters. Down there you have…me!”
Shasta came bounding down the stairs. “I’m going to meet Mike out front. He’ll be here in about ten minutes.”
“Will he be ridin’ that motorcycle?” Dru asked.
Shasta folded her arms. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She turned and skipped out of the room. The jingle of bells announced that Shasta had left the building.
Dru shook his head. “That girl will be the death of me.”
Rebecca chuckled. “Be careful what you wish for, right?”
He smirked and leaned back in his chair. “I’m glad you can find humor in the situation. I’m not quite there yet.”
She rose. “Mind if I talk and work at the same time?”
“Go right ahead. Let me know if I can help.”
Rebecca wanted him to stay right where he was. She couldn’t think clearly with his spicy scent and warm body too close to hers.
“I spoke to Myranda about a spell to help Shasta recover her memory.”
“Is there one?” he asked excitedly.
“Not a tried and true spell, but we could write one. The only thing is, Shasta would have to agree to it, and her participation would help. But, it sounds like she doesn’t remember anything about Wicca.”
“Does she have to?”
“No. As long as she’s open to the ritual.”
“What would she have to do?”
“Usually, when we do a healing spell for someone, they’re part of the circle. It’s easier if the person is Wiccan, but we’ve done it for friends and family members who aren’t. Basically, they sit or stand as they’re able to and link hands with us while one of the priests or priestesses performs the spell.”
“Sounds easy enough. I’m just worried about all her memories flooding back at once. The doc thinks somethin’ was so bad it caused the Fugue in the first place, and she doesn’t want to remember it.”
“We’ll add that to the spell. Asking the Goddess to return her memory in the safest way possible.”
“Would I be able to attend?”
“I’m sure you could. I’d prefer to ask Hanna first.” Rebecca handed him the tray of turnovers, cooled and ready for the display case.
He strolled toward the storefront and asked over his shoulder, “Hanna’s going to be there?”
“Sure. The whole coven will want in on this. Is that a problem?”
“No.” He disappeared from the kitchen, then returned a moment later. “I just don’t think Hanna’s too happy with me.”
“Why?”
He bit his lip. “Well, I tried to pull the wool over y’all’s eyes when I introduced myself as Dru-id.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure Hanna was onto you pretty quickly, but she didn’t get upset if you’ll recall.”
“No. She was right nice about it. And she didn’t get mad when I asked for help locatin’ Shasta. She might just be relieved that I found her and won’t be a pest anymore.”
“I don’t think she sees it as pestering. She was probably just frustrated that she couldn’t find her for you. I know I was.”
“Seriously? But you didn’t even know her.”
“We knew you.”
He chuckled. “And you knew I wasn’t goin’ to leave without her.”
“And now we don’t want you to leave at all,” she murmured.
He stepped into her personal space and pulled her against his chest. “We’ve got to figure this out, sweetheart. I’m not leavin’ anyone I love behind.”
“So your name really is Shasta?”
Shasta shrugged one shoulder. “So they say…I think I like the name April better.”
Mike chuckled. “So do I.”
They occupied a bench in Prescott Park, appreciating the occasional spray from the fountain on the hot July day.
“So what’s your last name?”
“Tanner. Oh! And I’m not married or engaged.”
Mike wiped his brow. “Whew! I was worried that the crazy guy chasing after us was your husband.”
“Nope. Just my brother. He wants to take me back to Texas.”
Mike adjusted his position so he could see her face. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” she said decisively. At least she hoped she sounded decisive. “At least not to stay.” A big part of her wanted to see where she was from and maybe jog more memories. “Dru said I was in college in Austin.”
“Ah. Austin’s nice. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
“I guess so…Although, having amnesia puts things in a whole different perspective.”
“You got that right. I didn’t care about anything beyond my little world, which suddenly got a whole lot smaller.”
She returned to the bench and sat down again. “Mine still feels small. It should be getting bigger as I find out more and more about my life, but…”
He draped an arm over her shoulder. “I think once you actually remember your past you’ll feel more connected to the present, your future, and the rest of the world.”
“I hope you’re right.” She laid her head on his shoulder.
After a few moments of companionable silence, he asked, “So, what now?”
She looked over at him. “I promised I’d help Rebecca at the bakery and she said I can stay as long as I like. Dru wants to take me back home, but I still don’t really know him. It would be like going on a long road trip with a stranger. And what if I don’t like it when I get there?”
“Then I’ll send you a plane ticket.”
She leaned away from him so she could see his eyes. “Are you serious?”
He gave her a crooked smile. “I’d like to give us a chance…”
“Me too. I just hope my crazy brother will let me stay.”
“If he doesn’t, don’t fight him. He was obviously determined to find you. He might just hog tie you and take you back against your will.”
April gasped. “He wouldn’t dare.” Would he?
“It’s on for tonight,” Rebecca said as she hung up the phone.
Dru let out a deep breath. “I hope Shasta will be on board. She can be stubborn as a mule. I never could make that girl do anything she didn’t want to.”
“Just treat her as an adult. You shouldn’t have to make her do anything. Appeal to her sense of reason, Dru.”
He snorted. “Sometimes, her unreasonableness knows no bounds. I wish you could do it without her consent.”
Shasta poked her head into the bakery’s kitchen. “What do you want to do without my consent?” The bells out front jingled, signaling that the customers must have left.
“Oh!” Rebecca strode over to her and placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. Nobody is doing anything without your consent. You’re brother just can’t quite see the mature young woman you’ve become in his absence.”
“Hey. I can see my sister’s getting older. I’m just—worried, is all.”
Shasta folded her arms. “Are you gonna to tell me what you’re talkin’ about or not?”
Rebecca nodded toward Dru.
“I’m supposed to explain it?” How could he explain it to her? Uh…we’re going to trust your brain to a bunch of witches? Hope you don’t mind…“Rebecca, you’d do a better job of explaining it.”
“Okay. Why don’t you take Shasta’s place out front and we can talk about it while I show her how I make the cinnamon rolls.” Rebecca went to the supply closet for her bags of flour and sugar.
“I’d kinda like to hear the explanation
myself. Maybe I can just keep an ear out for customers.”
She placed her hands on her hips and looked as if she were going to call him the stubborn one, but instead she pulled out one of the bistro chairs. “Have a seat.”
Let her be annoyed. This was his little sister they were going to mind-probe, and he’d gone through too much to blindly trust her welfare to anyone.
Rebecca began with a smile and a question. “How would you like a shortcut to recovering your memory?”
“Seriously? That would be great,” Shasta said.
“Good. Well, here’s the scoop. I’m a witch and I belong to a local coven…” She paused, possibly waiting to see how that information would be received—or maybe just to gather the milk and butter from the fridge.
Shasta didn’t blink. “Hmmm…I guess that’s why you call this the Bewitching Bakery.”
“Exactly. Dru tells them my stuff is magically delicious.” She rolled her eyes. “But there’s no magic in hard work and quality products.”
So far, so good. Dru watched Shasta’s reactions carefully. Would Wicca feel familiar to her? Or would she forget her religion along with everything else about herself and her life?
Rebecca was talking, and he had to pull himself out of the conversation in his head so he could pay attention to the one happening in the kitchen.
“I consulted one of the elders and she agreed to help me write a spell that would bring back your memory. The whole coven would like to lend their strength and support to the spell. I can’t do this without your knowledge or permission, however.” She leveled a glare at Dru. “Despite what your brother would like.”
Shasta glanced at him, but she didn’t appear angry. She looked more like she was nonverbally asking for his opinion on all this.
“I think it’s a good idea, Shasta. I’ve met these people and they’re all very supportive, like Rebecca said. I’ll be there too.”
“In that case, okay. What’s gonna happen?”
“Well, right at the moment, I’ll let you follow the recipe for cinnamon rolls while I explain. Did you know you’re a witch too?”
Shasta’s jaw dropped. “Not on my own, I didn’t. Son of a bitch…”
“Watch your language, young—”
“Oh, cut it out, Dru,” Shasta snapped. “I just found out I’m a witch. What else did you forget to mention?”