by Lynn Cahoon
“Never would have happened. I’ve driven these roads too many times to make a rookie mistake.” He glanced at the darkening sky. “Stay here and I’ll check out the damage. Keep your fingers crossed that we didn’t hurt the car.”
Mia watched as he got out, then looked around the car. She dropped her eyes and glanced at her phone. No service. Less than a mile from where she’d just used the darn thing and now nothing. At least she’d taken care of Grans before she’d lost the connection. She was heading over to the school to be with Christina. One less worry. A tap on the window focused her gaze on a worried Trent. Opening the window, she sighed. “Bad news?”
“Both right side tires are flat. I suppose you only have one spare?”
“I’ve never needed the one.” Mia slumped in her seat. “How far is town?”
He glanced up the road and shook his head. “Too far to walk before either the storm hits or night falls. We don’t want to be out in the open when either happens. We probably could hike out tomorrow morning.”
“So we’re staying in the van tonight?” Mia hoped she’d put the emergency kit back into the car after the last event. She couldn’t remember.
Trent shook his head and jerked open her door. “Come on. We have another, better option.”
“I thought you said we couldn’t make town?” Mia grabbed her cable-knit hat and pulled it over her head. She fished in her pockets for her gloves and grabbed her purse.
“We can’t. But there’s a fishing cabin just over that ridge. One of the summer people built it last year, I worked on the crew part-time. It has a woodstove and plenty of firewood. The pantry’s probably filled as well.” Trent glanced around the van. “Anything else you need out of here?”
“I don’t think so. Let’s lock it. I’d hate to lose my new generator. Although there probably won’t be anyone on the road before we get back tomorrow.” Mia looked at her boots. Thank the Goddess she had listened to her gut when she got dressed this morning. The sexy, high-heel fashion boots she’d considered still sat in her closet. She’d chosen the warmer, uglier snow boots, even though they were heading to town.
She followed Trent down the hill to where a road sign stood, half buried in snow pushed to the side by the daily snow plow runs. “Trout Lane?”
“I tell you, the guy’s a big fisherman. He’s one who comes to the area for recreation, not just to hang out at the Lodge and be seen. He’s some big shot in the movie industry in Los Angeles, but I’d never heard of him.” Trent walked in front of her, making footprints in the calf-deep snow for her to follow. “The cabin’s not far off the road.”
“I’ll have to send him a thank-you note when we get back.” She followed Trent up the gently climbing hill, her breath catching now and then. What would have been a pretty walk in the summer now reminded her of the opening to a horror movie.
Drama queen. The niggle in her brain told her the Goddess was laughing at her. Mia ignored the link. Let the Goddess walk a mile, literally, in her shoes; then she could laugh. Mia didn’t think the Goddess had inhabited a body for years, maybe centuries.
Not watching, she ran into Trent, who’d stopped at the top of the hill to wait for her to catch up. “Whoa.”
She caught his coat with her gloved hand, hoping she wouldn’t face-plant into the snow. It might look pretty, but with the sheen on the top, Mia knew there was a layer of ice that would make the landing painful. Trent gripped her arm and she felt herself being righted. She settled herself and peered down the road.
The cabin sat in front of them. All three-thousand-square-feet, if Mia had to guess, of log cabin gone modern, aka Frank Lloyd Wright style. The place rivaled the mini mansions closer to Sun Valley. Trent glanced at her. “Wow, right?”
“You said it was a fishing cabin.” Mia slapped his arm.
Trent headed to the front door. “For the owner, it is. He comes up once a month as soon as the snow clears. This fall he’s doing some sort of company retreat here. He’s already ordered the supplies. I’ll give you his number; maybe you can land a catering gig.”
“If he doesn’t throw us in jail for breaking and entering.” Mia followed Trent up on the wide, wraparound porch. She could just see rocking chairs gracing the wooden planks and fishing poles propped up against the cabin wall.
“We’re taking shelter in a storm. It’s Magic law. He won’t mind.” Trent reached up to the top of the doorframe and pulled out a key. “Besides, can’t be breaking and entering if the owner told me where he hid the key.”
As they entered the foyer, the remaining sunlight lit up the polished pine walls and floors. The cabin had been decorated in country casual à la Ralph Lauren. No day-care colors here. All the furniture was wood or leather, with deep, primary-colored pillows and throws tossed strategically over the couch and side chairs, facing a stone fireplace. She kicked off her snow-covered boots and pulled off her hat.
“I’d better get some wood in here before the storm hits.” Trent nodded to the back of the cabin. “The kitchen’s back there. See if you can find some lanterns and matches and let’s get settled in the living room for the night. No use trying to heat up the entire house.”
He went back outside, and Mia moved her boots over to the bench. The decorator had thought of everything, including a box of what looked like never-worn slippers next to the coat closet. She found a pair in her size and, after searching, pulled out three more pair, hoping one would fit Trent’s feet.
Then she headed back to the kitchen, the sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows bouncing off the natural pine. No wonder this was just a summer cabin. Too many windows to keep the place livable during the freezing temperatures of winter, even if you could keep the road open from all the snow. Mia smiled as she entered the kitchen. She slipped off her glove and reflexively slid her hand over the cool granite countertops. The owner hadn’t spared a dime in designing the kitchen. She’d seen pictures of places like this—stainless-steel appliances and oak cabinets—but this one just screamed “cook in me” to her. She headed to the gas stove. Maybe, just maybe, they hadn’t turned off the propane lines.
Sure enough, a flame flickered on, and Mia glanced around to find a teakettle and bottled water from the well-stocked pantry. As long as the propane held out, she might be able to make a decent clam rotini soup from what she’d seen on the shelves. She let the water heat while she searched the utility room, finding several lanterns and a handful of emergency candles.
Returning to the living room, she saw Trent had already stacked a pile of firewood on the large tile hearth. She set the lanterns on the end tables around the room and left matches and candles next to them, just in case.
Trent worked on lighting the fire, his broad shoulders framing the hearth. She leaned against the fireplace and watched him. “You want instant coffee or cinnamon tea? I think I saw a box of cocoa too.”
“The stove works?” Trent frowned.
Mia shrugged, “For now. I’m going to cook up a batch of soup before we run out of propane.”
Trent glanced over his shoulder. “I doubt the furnace will light, but do you want me to try?”
“The fireplace is fine. You know he had someone winterize the cabin. I’m surprised I got the stove to work.” She frowned at the decreasing light from the windows. “I think the storm’s close.”
“Then I’d better finish bringing in the wood. I’ll clear a path to the outhouse in the back too.” He smiled. “No indoor plumbing, right?”
Mia blushed. “Not that works anyway.”
“Check around in the kitchen for some flashlights. I don’t want you getting lost if you have to use the facilities in the middle of the night. We’ve had quite a few bear sightings this year.”
“If I go out, you’re coming with me to stand guard,” Mia joked.
“I guess because this is our first sleepover, I should warn you, I sleep hard. Not easy to wake me.” Trent leaned against the fireplace, looking all cool, and for some reason the look in hi
s eyes made Mia shiver. Quickly she spun the conversation.
“I take it that’s code for the fact you snore?” Mia walked toward the kitchen, hoping Trent wouldn’t follow.
“I don’t snore.” Trent pulled on his coat and followed her. “Wow. I’ve never been in this room since he finished it. Classy.”
“It’s amazing.” Mia opened the pantry door. “You didn’t tell me what you wanted to drink.”
“When I come in, coffee. But nothing now.” Trent glanced out the windowed door. “The snow is starting. We’ll be in the dark in less than twenty minutes. I want to clear that path before we settle in.”
Mia watched him slip out the door, the cold air flowing inside making the room feel even colder. She grabbed an old tan cardigan sweater from a hook in the mudroom and went to work on the soup. By the time she had it together, Trent had returned.
She grabbed her coat and shoes and made her way to the wooden outhouse. Even though it had been newly built out of the same pine as the interior of the house, Mia felt uncomfortable using the facilities. The only time she envied men was camping. Being a woman made her feel vulnerable in the great outdoors, especially while she was peeing.
Walking back to the cabin, she saw Trent standing on the porch, watching the storm clouds envelop the forest around them. She almost sprinted to the house, only slowing when she slipped on a patch of ice and had to juggle to right herself.
Trent pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. “Better?”
She nodded and went into the house. She replaced her boots and coat with the slippers and oversize sweater and then rubbed sanitizer on her hands. She nodded to the soup. “That’s going to take a while. Want coffee now?”
“Perfect.” Trent watched as she poured steaming hot water into two mugs, one with a tea bag for her, the other with the instant coffee. Trent carried both cups and walked into the living room. He glanced at the roaring fire and nodded. “We need to light up a few of those lanterns. We’ll lose the sunlight sooner than you think.”
“It feels like late evening. What time is it?” Mia lit three of the lamps, watching the flame flicker around the room.
Trent glanced at his watch. “Four.”
As she settled onto the couch, she threw one of the flannel blankets over the legs curled under her. “So, Trent Majors, what’s the most unusual thing about you?”
For a moment she thought from the look on his face that he might lie. But then he expelled a breath and sighed. “From the way you reacted when we first touched, I think you know I’m a witch.”
CHAPTER 15
Mia studied Trent’s reaction to his announcement carefully before she spoke. He hadn’t wanted to tell her. “I met Levi.”
“My brother has a big mouth.” Trent shook his head. “He loves all this stuff. He runs around that coven like it’s his personal harem. And the women let him. I’ve never been active in the family business, so to speak. I’m the normal one who the townspeople trust. Levi and my mom, they were all about the craft.” Trent squatted by the fire, using a poker to adjust the logs before he added a heavier log to the mix. “How’d the subject even come up?”
“He was my EMT when I was attacked. Maybe he felt sorry for me.” Mia was glad she hadn’t told him more about her. Trent didn’t like his heritage; maybe he really wouldn’t like it if she explained her and Grans’s practices.
Trent left the fireplace and sat on the other end of the couch. “There’s something there you’re not saying.” He laughed as Mia felt her eyes widen and a pit the size of an orange started to grow in her stomach.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Mia stammered.
He shook his head and focused on his coffee. “For instant, it’s almost bearable.” He set the cup on the rustic wooden coffee table and put his arm over the back end of the leather couch and watched Mia.
She couldn’t help it; she squirmed first. “Okay, so what do you want me to say?”
Trent tapped his fingers on the leather. “We could start with the truth.”
Mia set down her tea. “I talked with your brother on the way to the hospital. He told me he knew my grandmother and Adele from coven business.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand. Why would your grandmother be involved . . .” Then he stopped. “Your grandmother? I mean, I felt your power, but I didn’t think your grandmother and Adele . . . Of course, it all makes sense now.”
“And there’s the answer.” Mia smiled. “Although we’re not the same, you and I.”
“Because I don’t practice and you do?” Trent’s voice was hard, angry.
Mia shook her head. “No, because we’re not the same type of witch.”
“I don’t understand. There are different types?” Trent leaned forward, the anger leaving his face.
She nodded. “We practice kitchen witchcraft. Mostly healing and throwing spells for happiness and world peace.”
Trent laughed. “You spell for world peace? Seriously? I bet you were a shoo-in during the beauty contest interviews.”
“Don’t joke, Grans had a pretty successful track record going until the whole oil thing got in the way.” Mia leaned back in her chair, waiting for the judgment.
Trent studied her closely. “You’re not joking, are you?”
“You’ve seen the kitchen witch in my window.” When he nodded she continued, “Gloria is my familiar. My contact with the Goddess. She allows me to focus on the spell. Mr. Darcy used to be my familiar, but he’s got other issues right now.”
“I thought the doll was some sort of weird decoration.” Trent smiled. “So you’re a kitchen witch. Who else knows?”
“The coven, your brother, and my grandmother. Christina knows, but she thinks it’s kind of cool. I don’t have brothers or sisters, and my parents don’t like to talk about this whole thing. But that’s it. Or at least I hope no one else knows. It could ruin my business.” Mia picked up her tea and took a sip. “I’d hate to be run out of town or burned at the stake. Idahoans are pretty conservative in some ways.”
Trent laughed. “In Magic Springs you’d more likely be named to the city council. Our little town has a long history of welcoming the different. Why do you think my family started the coven here? For the amazing skiing?”
“No, that’s your brother’s thing, isn’t it?” Mia pulled on the string of her tea bag, gently swirling it through the water. “Still, I’d rather we keep my little secret. Besides, you don’t even practice.”
“I don’t claim my family heritage. Once my oldest brother went off to law school, I told Dad I’d run the store and Mom could train Levi in the craft. He’s been happy as a clam. Gives him lots of slope time.” Trent shook his head. “Honestly, not to offend you, but I think it’s all a big sham.”
“I believe my spells and potions can heal the sick and help the world keep its balance of positive energy.” Mia cocked her head. “According to some philosophers, we can both be right.”
“In a parallel universe.” Trent shook his head. “Let’s just agree to disagree. You a football fan? How about those Broncos?”
“Denver or BSU?”
“The girl knows a bit more than she lets on.” Trent smiled. “Maybe we can spend a quiet evening in pleasant conversation.”
“Just don’t bring up politics. I’m pretty liberal using Idaho standards.”
“And there we go down the rabbit hole again.” Trent stood and poked at the fire.
Mia watched him as he squatted next to the hearth, his powerful legs tight against his jeans. She hadn’t noticed when, but he’d traded his hunting boots for a pair of the slippers from the box near the front bench. Just a couple of old homebodies, she thought. What would it be like to make love to Trent in front of the fire, the flickering lights from the lanterns playing with the shadows on their bodies?
A knock at the door burst her fantasy. Her eyes widened as she stared at the door.
“Stay there.” Trent walked to the door, the fireplace
poker still in his hand. “Maybe it was a branch on the porch.”
“Someone’s out there,” Mia whispered.
Trent ignored her warning and continued walking to the door. He looked out the side window, then opened the door. Mia held her breath as William Danforth entered the foyer. “I saw your lights. I was on my way to Magic Springs when I hit a van someone had left in the middle of the road.”
Mia stood from the couch. “You hit my car?”
William pointed at her. “You! I should have known. What exactly do you have against my family that you’re trying to kill all of us?”
“I didn’t kill Adele. Besides, you ran into my car, not the other way around.” Mia felt heat rise to her face, even though the cabin still felt chilly.
William sniffed. “We’ll let the law settle this.” He pulled off his coat and dumped it on the floor. “Is there any food in this place? I’m starving.”
Mia shook her head. If he thought she was going to share the soup she’d made with someone who’d not only accused her of killing his aunt, but now hit her van . . . ? Well, it would be a cold day in hell.
Trent came and stood next to her. A show of solidarity. His next words ruined the thought. “We’ve got some hot soup. You want some coffee or tea?”
Mia burned at his words. Trent put an arm tightly around her. Then he squeezed. His message was clear, be good. Finally she got hold of her anger. “Why don’t I see if the soup’s ready?” She shrugged off Trent’s arm, and headed to the kitchen. She stopped and glanced back at William. “Hey, where’s Barney?”
William looked like she’d caught him naked in the Lodge’s ladies’ locker room. He swallowed, “Who?”
“Barney Mann, the attorney handling your aunt’s estate and the guy you had lunch with about,” she glanced at her wrist at a watch that wasn’t there, “four hours ago?”
William turned a deeper shade of purple. “How did you know we had lunch today?”
Trent had crossed the room to stand next to Mia again. This time he didn’t pull her into a protective hug but edged in front of her. “We ate at the same restaurant. Not very observant for someone who is supposed to be a journalist.”