The Turning

by Linda Watkins

  Slowly, I cantered past Imelda’s cart and, once she saw me safe, she put whip to her horse and off we went, our destination a small settlement north of Falmouth.

  It was late when we arrived. I leapt from my horse and ran around to the backside of the cart.

  “Micah! Sarah!” I cried. “It’s me, Mama.”

  Micah, still shackled, hobbled forward, his face full of surprise.

  “Maude! Can it be? You’re alive!”

  I pulled the key from my purse and began to unlock the shackles.

  “Yes, it’s me,” I cried as I freed my husband and passed the key to the next man so that he and the others could unlock their irons.

  Micah jumped from the cart and took me in his arms. “But how,” he whispered as we clung to each other.

  “Later,” I said. “Right now I need my daughter.”

  Grinning, Micah turned and helped little Sarah from the wagon. I knelt on the ground and hugged her with all my strength and heart.

  Imelda came ‘round and helped the others.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said. “These people need sustenance.”

  We had parked outside an alehouse which, at this late hour, was deserted. Gamely, Imelda pounded on the door until the sleepy proprietor arrived, looking confused.

  “We’re closed,” he said.

  “Kind sir,” Imelda implored him. “These people are hungry and thirsty and half of them are children. Could you please open for us? We will pay in gold coin.”

  At the mention of gold, the proprietor seemed to wake up and, now, gladly ushered us inside.

  After everyone had finished eating, I went to each one and handed them their papers along with what coin I had left.

  “You are all free now,” I said. “I only wish I could do more.”

  One of the men whom I knew as “Trusty Tom” grinned at me. “This is enough, Mistress Levine. Now we can return to our families and grieve for our lost wives and mothers in peace.”

  I nodded and watched as the men put their arms around their children and, with them in tow, left the alehouse.

  Imelda then stood. “I need be getting back,” she said. “I’ll take the horse. The wagon is yours. Come to my shop when you are ready. We have plans to make.”

  Micah looked at her, puzzled, but she just laughed and strode out the door.

  “What was that about?” he asked. “What plans?”

  “Later, my love,” I said, casting a glance at little Sarah, who was beginning to nod off. “I think we need to get her to bed. Can you see if the ale master has a room he would rent for the night?”

  The proprietor did, indeed, have a room and, after we put little Sarah to bed, Micah and I returned to the bar to sit and talk.

  “We came back when we saw the ship,” he said. “And were arrested as soon as we set foot ashore. They herded us together with the other prisoners as they rounded up all the women.”

  He hesitated for a moment, and I reached forward and took his hand in mine.

  “Go on,” I said. “I need to know.”

  “They burned them, Maude. Burned every one of them. I put my hands over Sarah’s eyes hoping she wouldn’t see, but I fear she did.”

  “And Samuel?”

  “He buried his head in my lap, crying.”

  “Tell me what happened to him.”

  “It was strange. A man came by, looking us all over. Someone I’d never seen before. And, when he saw Sam, he told one of the soldiers to take him. I tried to fight the soldier off, but they clubbed me. And, that’s it. I don’t know what happened to him after that. He was just gone.”

  I nodded. “Don’t blame yourself, my love. For it is I who am to blame.”

  Micah looked at me, puzzled, and it was then I told him all about the old man and the bargain he had tricked me into.

  “All of this is my fault,” I said. “I was foolish and I let that old bastard entice me with promises of power. And, now, I have the power, but I fear I have lost my soul.”

  Micah sat silent for a moment, taking it all in.

  “This power you now have – must it be used to harm? Can’t it be used for good, too?”

  “Yes, it can. But I am afraid of it.”

  I told him then what happened when I’d thought Imelda had betrayed us.

  “I almost killed her, my love. The power consumed me.”

  “But you didn’t kill her, did you?”

  I shook my head.

  “No, you stopped it. Don’t you see, Maude. You control it – the power does not control you.”

  “Yes, but I don’t see how that changes things. Don’t you understand? I am what they say I am.”

  “And, what’s that, my Maude? Say it.”

  I hesitated. To say the words out loud would make them real – more real than I ever imagined.

  “I’m waiting, Maude.”

  I stared at him and could tell by his expression that he would not yield.

  “I am witch.”

  Micah smiled. “Did the world just end?”

  He waited. I said nothing. He reached for my hand.

  “No, it didn’t, my love,” he said, smiling at me. “So, you are a witch. But you are also my wife and the mother of my child. And, as such, you are much loved. Come, it has been a long day. Time for bed.”

  He took me by the hand and let me back to our room. There, lying in his arms, I finally told him of the babe I’d carried and lost on that horrible day. And, he held me as I cried and told me over and over how much he loved me and, finally, as the sun ended its eternal journey, I slept.

  Aftermath

  WHEN I WOKE, the sun was already high in the sky. I reached out for Micah, but the bed was empty. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and gazed around the room. I was alone.

  A shiver of fear ran down my spine. Had Micah taken Sarah and left? Had my revelations of the night before been too much for him? Had he fled?

  I pushed back the covers and stood beside the bed, hugging myself, wondering what I should do next. I put on my shift, grabbed my shawl, wrapped it around my shoulders, and walked toward the door.

  I stopped, hearing the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

  Suddenly frightened, I shrank back against the wall. Were they coming for me now? Had Micah told them I was here?

  I slid down the wall to the floor, waiting for the door to open – waiting for my fate to be determined.

  Slowly it opened and in strode Micah, a shaving kit in his hand. He looked at me huddled on the floor and frowned.

  “What is it, Maude?” he asked. “Why are you crouching in that corner?”

  I swallowed, trying to digest the fear that so gripped me.

  “I thought you’d left,” I finally whispered. “And that it was Palmer’s men coming for me.”

  Micah put down the razor and knelt beside me.

  “Do you think me so faithless? I only left to borrow this shaving kit from the innkeeper. And, Sarah – well, she was awake and I didn’t want you to be disturbed. She’s outside now playing with the innkeeper’s children.”

  I stared down at my feet, ashamed of myself for doubting him.

  He smiled kindly at me. “Come, get dressed. It’s time we ate and made plans.”

  I nodded and, as he shaved, I dressed and made ready for the day.

  The innkeeper, who was now kindly disposed to us, gave us steaming bowls of porridge with thick slices of freshly baked bread. We ate silently, each of us alone with our thoughts.

  “So, my sweet,” Micah began. “What’s our plan? Imelda said something about meeting up with her today. Is that where we go?”

  I took a deep breath. What I had to say now would be hard.

  “Yes, I will go to Imelda’s.”

  “You? Do you mean you alone? What of Sarah and me?”

  I hesitated, deepening my resolve.

  “You and Sarah must go and find your people, be they back in Boston or in New York. Go to them and live your lives free of this madne
ss. I must go elsewhere and find my Samuel and try to save him.”

  Micah stared at me and I could see a storm cloud brewing in his eyes.

  He stood, throwing his napkin down on the table.

  “Your Samuel?” he yelled. “Is he not mine, too? Haven’t I loved and cherished him since the day we left Boston? Your Samuel – by God, he’s not yours – he’s OURS, and if anyone is to save him, it will be me. I’m his father!”

  As he chastised me, he paced the room until, finally, his anger spent, he sat back down across from me.

  “Don’t you see, Maude? We’re a family and families stay together. Samuel is not of your blood, nor is he of mine. But we both love him as our own. You say you entered into a bargain with this old man – unwillingly to be sure – but a bargain anyway. And, in this bargain you bartered our son in exchange for this power you now have. Am I right?”

  Unable to speak, I nodded.

  “Well, Maude, Samuel was not yours to give away. I am his father as much as you are his mother and he cannot be sold without my consent and I give it NOT!”

  As I listened to Micah’s argument, a light began to dawn in my brain. In a way, he was right. It had not been my choice – Samuel was not mine to barter with. His true father had been alive at the time the bargain was made. Wouldn’t that old thief have needed Josiah’s permission as well? And, did Morrison realize at the time he tricked me that Samuel was not my blood child? Perhaps that evil old man was fallible after all and had made a mistake that could lead to breaking the seal and saving my poor child’s soul.

  “You are right,” I finally said. “I only feared for your life and that of our daughter. I could not lose you both. But you’re right and it is your duty as much as mine to try to save our boy.”

  Micah finally smiled and reached across the table taking my hands in his.

  “Good,” he said. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, woman. You cannot face this old devil by yourself, no matter how much power you have. I will stand by your side, my musket at the ready, and together we will bring our boy home.”

  He was about to say more when the door to the inn burst open and Sarah came running inside, laughing merrily.

  “Mama, Father, come to the barn and see the puppies. They are magnificent. Can I have one, please?”

  Micah stood, laughing, then picked her up and twirled her around. “Someday, Sarah, you can have all the dogs you want. But for now, we’re off on an adventure.”

  “An adventure, Father?”

  “Yes, my pet, an adventure.”

  Sarah took a seat on his knee and then looked at me, her five-year-old face serious.

  “Are we going to get Sammy, Mother?”

  Micah’s jaw dropped, surprised by her query.

  I could feel his eyes upon me, questioning, but I ignored him and, instead, stared at my child. I had become pregnant with her after that old man had changed me – turned me into something that even now I couldn’t fathom. Could it be that some of what now flowed in my veins was passed on to her?

  Her gray eyes were solemn as she waited for a response, looking somehow much older than her tender years.

  I smiled at her.

  “Yes, Sarah,” I said. “We are going to bring your brother home. And, we are going together. After all, we’re a family, aren’t we?”

  THE END

  Special Note from the Author

  Dear Gentle Readers,

  I hope you enjoyed the first book in the Witches of Storm Island Series. This novella, and the ones to follow, will serve as prequels to another series, The Kate Pomeroy Mysteries, the first of which is entitled, Storm Island. The Pomeroy mysteries are contemporary in nature and feature Dr. Kathryn (Kate) Pomeroy who is a direct descendent of Maude Prichard. Other characters in these gothic thrillers will connect in various ways with those you encounter in the Witches prequels. Thus, the two series will weave in and out, finally creating, I hope, a whole tapestry of adventures!

  In closing, if you enjoyed this story, please consider posting a brief review. We authors love that sort of thing! For updates on my work, feel free to visit me at LindaWatkins-Author.com.

  Linda

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author, Linda Watkins, is the author of the bestselling American Gothic series, Mateguas Island. In addition to this trilogy, she also has authored the critically acclaimed work of literary fiction, Summer Girl, A Novel, and the bestselling novella, Sarah and Zoey.

  She currently resides in Sedona, Arizona and is at work on the second book in the series featuring Dr. Kate Pomeroy, tentatively titled, Revenge of the Body Thief as well as a horror novella, Night of the Sciurus, A Western Michigan Tale of Terror.

  You can find more information about Linda and her works by visiting one or all of her websites:

  http://www.lindawatkins-author.com

  http://lindawatkins.biz

  http://mateguasisland.com.

  Linda’s other works include:

  The Mateguas Island Series

  Storm Island, A Kate Pomeroy Mystery

  Summer Girl, A Novel

  Sarah & Zoey: A Story About the Power of Unconditional Love

  And, soon to be published:

  The Night of the Sciurus, A Western Michigan Tale of Terror