by Cindy Stark
“You don’t need to.”
“But, I will.”
She wanted to argue, but really, she’d be grateful if someone did see her safely home. “Okay. Thank you.”
He didn’t immediately open the passenger door, and she shifted her gaze to his face. “I think you should reconsider your options when it comes to the prophecy, Hazel. Can’t you see that I’m the better man for you? Do you really want to disappoint your mother? Have you talked to her lately? She cares about what happens to you.”
Hazel had been fooled by those words before, but not this time. Her mother didn’t care. She wanted to control her future.
“Or the coven?” he continued. “There’s a reason they all think you belong to me.”
The words stuck in her brain like a stick in a cog. “Belong to you? I don’t belong to anyone, Victor. Not even Peter. If this prophecy is real, Peter and I will fight for Stonebridge and the townsfolk together.”
“You mean for the witches.”
She wished that she could make him understand. But the fact that he couldn’t, proved to her all the more that choosing Peter wasn’t a mistake. “This is about all of Stonebridge, Victor. Not just protecting witches. But healing everyone’s hearts.”
He stared at her for a long moment as though she was crazy. Then he jerked on the handle and opened the door. “If you say so, Hazel. Either way, I’ll be here when you need me.”
She stared at him for a curious moment. “What’s up with the denim jacket? I thought you only wore leather.”
He grinned as though pleased. “It suits me, don’t you think?”
She smiled and nodded. “Sure, Victor. It suits you very nicely.”
Never, in her wildest dreams, would she have imagined Victor working so hard to gain her affection. The fact that he thought if he looked and acted like Peter that he might have a chance with her gave her a chuckle.
She hated to laugh at people, but after what he’d put her through, he deserved it. Still, she appreciated that he watched out for her. Maybe she could forgive him a little for breaking her heart.
In the end, every ounce of pain she’d suffered had been worth it. She had Peter now, and she couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful.
Chapter Seventeen
Hazel carried a dark woven basket full of bright yellow sunflowers, orange mums, golden yarrow, and red carnations, a tin of chamomile tea, and a box of Cora’s homemade cookies past the biggest house on the property. She wouldn’t stop at Harriett’s house, and instead continued toward the small apartment residing out back. Hazel envied the friendly bluebeard bushes, rusty mums, and flaming burning bushes that had turned bright red with the frosty fall weather.
She loved Harriett’s garden, but not the witch who cared for the plants there.
She sensed but stepped past some impressively strong wards as she approached Fauna’s new home. The witches had moved her there after she’d been released from the hospital so that they could care for her better. And keep her safe.
No one but her attacker knew for sure the reason he’d harmed her, might not even be because Fauna was a witch, though Hazel had little doubt.
But here, behind Harriett’s place, Fauna could heal and feel safe.
Hazel knocked softly on the door. She sensed Fauna drawing near. The young woman didn’t immediately open the door, and Hazel figured she probably needed to peek out to see who was on her porch first.
Several locks clicked, and Fauna opened the door.
She wore and old t-shirt and faded flannel pants. Her hair sat in a lank ponytail that looked slept on, and dark circles hovered beneath her eyes. The traces of bruises on her face broke Hazel’s heart, but the warm smile on her lips gave Hazel hope.
Fauna’s soul was a resilient one. She’d heal from this.
“Hello, Fauna.”
Fauna opened her arms, and Hazel leaned in for a hug despite the packages in her arms. “It’s so good to see you, Hazel. Come in.”
Hazel entered, passed the sweet-smelling flowers to Fauna, and followed her to the small kitchen decorated in ivory and lavender.
Fauna set the flowers in the center of her kitchen table. “These are just gorgeous, Hazel. Thank you, so much.”
“I hope they’ll brighten your days. I have tea, too. Your favorite, and Cora sent a big box of assorted cookies.”
Tears brightened her eyes. “You all are too good to me.”
She shook her head. “No. You know we take care of our own. Sisters, remember?”
That was the one thing Hazel did love about belonging to a coven. She’d never had siblings growing up, so other sister-witches filled those holes.
Fauna gestured toward the table. “Do you wanna sit down? I could make some tea.”
“Sure, let’s sit, but don’t worry about tea. I just had breakfast, and I’m feeling kind of full. I could make a pot for you, though.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m okay.”
They sat next to each other at the table. Fauna remained quiet for a long moment, and then met Hazel’s eyes. “Thank you so much for what you did for me. Cora told me about the visions.”
Hazel had to blink back her own emotion. “I think you had as much to do with that as me. I don’t think I could have entered your head if you hadn’t opened it up.”
Fauna nodded. “I was sure desperate. I don’t know how I could have let you in, but if you say I did, I guess I did.”
The younger woman paused for a long moment. “What was it like on your side?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hazel sighed as she fished beneath the bog of forgetfulness and pulled the memories to the surface. “Of course, it was way worse for you, but I experienced plenty. The blinding pain. The blackest fear. I was with you for a lot of it.”
Fauna placed one hand over Hazel’s and wiped tears from her cheeks with the other. “I was so scared, Hazel. I was sure he’d kill me. He’d said he would.”
Hazel gasped. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
Fauna quickly blinked wet lashes and caught Hazel’s gaze. “Better than to die from it, right?”
Her ability to maintain a positive attitude impressed Hazel. “Yes, definitely.”
“I think I knew you were there, Hazel.”
She lifted surprised brows. “Really?”
Fauna nodded. “I felt a presence. A warm presence that burned behind all the fear. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now that I’ve had a chance to consider everything, I think it was you.”
Hazel leaned toward her and gave her a strong hug. “I hope so. I hope I was able to help.”
“You did more than help. You saved me.”
“I’m grateful I was given the opportunity. I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I feel a strong connection to you.”
Fauna smiled then. “I think I’m related to Clarabelle, too. I once hoped I’d be her chosen descendant, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
Hazel studied Fauna’s gaze, looking for jealousy, but found none. “Then that makes us cousins as well as sisters.”
She gave a small chuckle. “That’s right.”
“You know, if you get tired of living behind Harriett, you can always come to my house. I have a spare bedroom.”
Fauna shook her head. “No. I’m fine here. Harriett’s good to me, and you’ll have your new husband moving in soon. By the way, I don’t agree with everyone else about Peter. He’s a good man, and you’re a better woman and witch because of him. I can feel it.”
Tears threatened again, and Hazel cursed the emotions that hung like thick fog in the air. “Thank you. That means so much to me.”
Fauna pointed toward the fridge door. “I got your invitation. I can’t wait.”
Happiness flooded her. “Me, either. It’s coming so fast.”
Hazel paused for several heartbeats until she had Fauna’s full attention. “Fauna, would it be okay to ask you about what happened at Redemption Pond? I know
you’ve given your statement to the police. I know the coven believes it was John, but maybe talking to me will help you remember more. Maybe you can fill in the blanks of what I didn’t see or know.”
Fauna moistened her lips and nodded. “Okay. For you, I will.”
Hazel took her hand again, hoping touch would ease Fauna’s pain and possibly give her more information. “Tell me what you were doing before it happened.”
She shrugged. “It was a normal day. I went out jogging on the roads near where I’d lived then. They’re not totally deserted. More like the street you live on. Houses, but not squished together. Lots of trees.
“I didn’t see him or hear him. He must have been hiding in the bushes. Next thing I knew, someone grabbed me and tackled me to the ground. I couldn’t breathe. I had dust in my face and a hand across my mouth.”
Fauna paused to inhale a shaky breath, and Hazel squeezed her hand.
“I struggled, and then I think he must have knocked me unconscious because I don’t remember anything after that until we were at Redemption Pond.
“He threw water in my face to wake me up. I remember sputtering and then seeing the black mask on his face and recognizing things were bad and going to get much worse. He hit me. Punched me. Called me all kinds of bad names. Said I was a vile creature that didn’t belong on earth. That’s when I began praying for help.”
Hazel nodded slowly. “You were in the trees then.”
“Yes,” she answered in a small voice.
“What do you remember about your attacker?”
“About John Bartles?”
Hazel would need to tread lightly with her questions. “Are you positive it was him?”
“I smelled his cologne. It was him.”
“What about his voice? Did you recognize it?”
She shook her head. “I think he disguised it. Sounded gravelly, but I know it was him.”
“Anything else?”
“He said it was too bad that a wretched thing had to be in such a sweet package. It made it harder to…destroy me.” She finished on a whisper.
“Destroy?” Hazel echoed softly, and a deep sadness enveloped her. “I’ll never understand some people.”
Fauna sniffed. “He’s gone now, Hazel. It’s okay.”
Hazel inhaled a fortifying breath that would help her continue. “Fauna, did someone in the coven kill John Bartles?”
She blinked several times as though caught off guard by Hazel’s question and then shook her head. “He committed suicide. Everyone knows that. Because he realized he was the vile one and couldn’t live with himself.”
Hazel sent her a warm smile and healing energy. “Yes, I’d heard that. I just wanted to make sure.”
Fauna nodded, though didn’t seem so certain any longer. “It’s for the best. I don’t have to worry about him coming back for me or for anyone else, either.”
She released a heavy breath. “That’s a huge relief for us all.”
Unless they were wrong, and it wasn’t John, but Samuel who’d hurt Fauna instead.
Chapter Eighteen
Hazel parked her car in front of the second house she intended to visit that morning before she’d head into work. She lifted another tin of tea, chamomile this time, and exited her car. Using tea as a pretense for investigating might have become her M.O., but it worked. People had a hard time turning away a caring person with a gift.
And she did care. She really did. But she wanted answers, too.
The flowers in the gardens at Susan Bartles’ home had long since withered, leaving only brown skeletons of what once had likely been lovely plants. Perhaps she hadn’t bothered to replant after the scorching summer they’d endured.
Hazel rang the bell and waited. Eddy opened the front door, leaving the screen shut between them. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised when he’d answered instead of Susan, but she was. She’d expected he would have a job that would have taken him away during the daytime hours.
Maybe Susan wasn’t doing well after her loss and needed him.
Hazel lifted the tin of tea higher so he’d notice. “Hi Eddy. Is Susan home? I wanted to check on her and give her this.”
He paused, and Hazel sensed his hesitation. Just when she was certain he’d turn her away, he opened the screen. “Sure. Come on in. It would probably be good for her to see someone besides me.”
She gave him a warm smile and stepped inside. He led her to a sitting room at the back of the house.
If she’d thought Fauna had looked bad, Susan was worse. For a woman who always kept up her appearance, Susan looked as if she’d been dragged behind a car.
She still wore a nightgown that looked like she might have lived in it for several days. Dirty, limp hair hung about her shoulders. Her once-plump cheeks appeared hollow, and Hazel feared she might not be eating.
She glanced up at Hazel and then back to the carpet.
Hazel handed the tin of tea to Eddy and spoke softly. “Would you mind making some for us? Maybe you have some fruit or cookies you could bring, too? She looks as though she might need some sustenance.”
A sad expression lingered on his face. “Yeah. I can’t get her to eat much. Maybe you can.”
He disappeared into an adjoining room, and Hazel moved to the couch and sat near Susan’s chair. She took Susan’s hand and wrapped her warm fingers around Susan’s cold ones. Her life forced had dimmed, like sometimes happened when a person grieved, but Hazel knew Susan couldn’t live in this state for too long without some adverse effects.
“Hey, Susan. I wanted to stop in and check on you.”
Susan nodded but didn’t meet her gaze. Hazel’s concern raised to another level.
“Is there something I can help you with? Maybe I should invite Father Orien over to give you a blessing. I know he’s good at counseling the bereaved.”
She lifted her gaze to Hazel. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” she whispered.
Hazel’s heart contracted, and she focused on sending healing energy to Susan. She’d already expended a fair amount on Fauna and realized she should have come better prepared. “The pain makes it hard to breathe?”
Susan squeezed her eyes shut and tears leaked out. “I’m worried Eddy might have done something.”
Her pulse spiked. “Something?” she asked cautiously.
She nodded. “Peter was here. He asked us about the hose John had used. Said my prints were on it. John’s were…and Eddy’s.”
Susan cast a quick glance toward the entrance to the room as though checking for her brother. “It was our garden hose, Hazel. I didn’t recognize it at first. Shock, I think.”
“Okay,” she prodded, hoping Susan would give specific information before Eddy returned.
She released a shuddering breath. “There’s no reason my brother’s prints would be on it.”
Hazel leaned closer. “So, you think it might not have been suicide?”
She shrugged, and her breaths became labored. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore. I’ve heard the accusations about John hurting that girl. I never would have believed it. But, I wouldn’t have believed that he’d cheat on me, either, and that came straight from his own mouth.”
Her pain echoed out in waves that weighed heavy on Hazel’s heart. “Oh, Susan. I’m so sorry.”
“What do I do about my brother? How do I know?”
Before Hazel could create a response, Eddy returned carrying two lime green mugs. “Here we go, ladies.”
Hazel met his gaze. “You’re not going to join us?”
He snorted. “I don’t do that girly tea stuff. I need something stronger like coffee.”
She didn’t bother to argue that a good many teas could carry enough caffeine to rival coffee or that many men enjoyed the flavor and benefits of tea. “Thank you, Eddy. This is very nice.”
He smiled. “Let me get the cookies. I’ll eat those with you.”
Of course, he would.
Susan shot her
a desperate look, but neither of them spoke as they waited for her brother to return.
When he did, he offered Hazel a cookie and then sat next to Susan. She declined the invitation to eat.
Immediately, the air tightened.
Eddy took a bite of an oatmeal cookie and then turned his gaze to Hazel. “I hope you don’t feel bad that we didn’t invite you to the service. We thought it best to keep it close friends and family.”
Hazel lifted a hand. “Oh, of course not. Whatever is best for you. For Susan. I think the townsfolk will understand.”
Susan pulled a tissue from the box on the side table and wiped her eyes.
Eddy cleared his throat. “Under the circumstances, it’s best if we all put this behind us and move forward. I keep telling Susan that John’s suicide is hard to bear, but really, he did her a kindness.”
Hazel frowned. “How’s that?”
He shrugged. “This way, she doesn’t have to file for divorce, and, with John’s life insurance, she can recoup some of the money that jerk gave away. That was her money, too, you know.”
Hazel appreciated his concern for his sister, but the crassness of his words bothered her. Regardless of John’s recent actions, he and Susan had spent a life together. “Of course, it was hers, too. But she might not be thinking about that right now.”
“She has to think of the future. This way, she’ll keep her house.”
A sob escaped Susan, and Eddy glanced at her with surprise. Then he looked back to Hazel as though asking for help.
“Give her time to grieve, Eddy. She’s had some hard losses, and it will take time.”
Hazel gave Susan her attention. “One day at a time, Susan. You don’t need to deal with any of this until you’re ready, okay?”
Eddy seemed to clue in and nodded in agreement. “Good advice, Hazel. One day at a time. Maybe even one minute at a time.”
Hazel smiled. “Exactly. First things first. Like eating, Susan. I know you’re probably not hungry, but a little something in your stomach will help you handle everything else.”
Eddy lifted the cookie plate to her again. “Just a little bite?”
By degrees, the intensity in the air lessened, and she accepted a cookie. Took a little nibble.
