Gone With the Witch

by Heather Blake

  He cleared his throat. “We’ve been talking in circles about moving in together for months now. . . . How are you feeling about that?”

  “About talking in circles? Because honestly, that was getting a little annoying.”

  Smiling, he said, “The moving in, Darcy. The moving in. Do you think you’d want to . . . you know . . . live with me? With Mimi? With Higgins?”

  Swallowing hard, I said, “Do I think I’d want to? I’d love to. Do you think you’d want to live with me? With Missy? With Annie?”

  His voice thick with emotion, he said, “I’d love to.”

  Candlelight flickered on his face, and I tried with all my might to memorize every detail of this moment, from the sights, the scents, the sounds. But it was so hard to concentrate with the way my chest ached with all the love I was feeling.

  We stared at each other for a moment before he said, “Then it’s settled? We’re moving in together?”

  I could barely breathe as I nodded. “It’s settled.”

  He casually as he glanced around. “You know, with the renovations this house is plenty big for all of us. . . . We’ll have to make sure the wooden floors have extra protection against Higgins’ drool, but that’s not too big a deal.”

  My eyes widened. “What are you saying?”

  “What do you think about us all living here?”

  “Here? But your hou—”

  “You love it here,” he said, knowing where I was going. “And I love you. The decision of where to live when we get married is simple. You know. Someday. When we do that.” He coughed, looking as if he had just revealed much too much.

  I nearly fell over. “Live here? You’d really live here? You don’t even like this place.”

  “This place has changed quite a bit since the first time I saw it. It’s grown on me. And Mimi loves it as much as you do. You want to, right?” he asked with a smile. “Live here? Someday? With Mimi and me and Higgins.” He frowned. “Don’t let Higgins influence your decision too much.”

  “I mean, yes, but your house makes much more sense. Your workshop . . .”

  He waved a hand. “I’m sure I can get Hank to work his magic on that old shed out back.”

  My heart pounded. “You’re serious?”

  “Mimi’s already picked out a room upstairs. The one—”

  “The one at the end of the hall that looks over the square.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “It screams Mimi with all its nooks and that big window seat. . . . You’re really serious?”

  “If you’ll have us. . . . I don’t want to be too presumptuous, taking over your space. . . .”

  Tears streamed down my face as I launched myself at him, knocking him backward with my hug. “Of course I’ll have you!” I laughed, unable to keep the joy inside.

  “Then it’s settled. When the time comes, we’ll move in here,” he said, laughing with me, holding me close. He brushed a piece of my hair back behind my ear, and thumbed away a teardrop. “Why the tears?”

  “I’m just happy,” I said.

  He held me just a little bit tighter. “Me, too, Darcy. Me, too.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, I was back at As You Wish. Nick and I had eaten and talked and talked some more. As the candles flickered in the growing darkness, I told him all about the mourning dove adventures and Harper’s fascination with the situation. I told him of Alina and Godfrey and Pepe, my suspicions about the petnapper, and everything else I could think of.

  He told me about his day, too, which consisted mostly in asking questions that had no answers. And we had talked of our future, of how we wanted to furnish the house, and what color to paint our bedroom.

  It had been . . . magical.

  When the time comes.

  When we got married.

  Trying not to stress about when that might happen, I made myself simply enjoy the night I’d had.

  I was still floating as I readied for bed. I didn’t plan to go to sleep, however, until after Ve returned home and I had the chance to speak with her about that spell.

  I flipped on the TV that sat on top of my dresser and surfed through cable channels until I settled on an old episode of The Golden Girls.

  Missy hopped up onto the bed, turned three times, then settled into a ball to watch the show. Tilda, who’d been on the opposite side of the bed, oh so casually crossed the short distance between them, swatted Missy’s stubby tail, then lay down next to her and pretended she’d done no such thing.

  She was one odd cat.

  Sitting in front of my pillows was Annie, with all the toys I had bought her at the Furry Toadstool spread out around her. I pushed them aside and scooped her up as I propped myself against the pillows.

  Settled against my chest, she looked up at me, blinked those amazing eyes of hers, then reached up with her paw and tapped my glasses.

  I laughed and took them off. “See? Still me under here.”

  I supposed cats didn’t understand the whole concept of contact lenses—taking them out was part of my normal bedtime routine. She’d get used to seeing me in glasses soon enough.

  Her tail swished as I scratched her chin and said, “I hope it’s okay with you that you’ll be living here with me now. I think you’ll be a lot happier. And eventually we’re going to move in with Nick and Mimi. You’ll have to get used to Higgins’ drool, which is more about dodging and evading than anything. I think you can handle it.” After living with Natasha, I was pretty sure she could handle anything.

  I was telling her about the new house when I laughed again, this time at myself for having a full-on conversation with the cat. But I just couldn’t help myself.

  She reached up a paw and curved it around my hand that was patting her, pulling my palm toward her. Pressing her face against the tender skin, she closed her eyes and purred.

  The gesture and sound brought moisture to my eyes, and I blinked it away. Giving her a hug, I said, “I know I’m a lot happier knowing you’re here.”

  At some point, I must have drifted off, because I woke with a start, not sure what had stirred me.

  The TV was still on, but instead of a sitcom, an infomercial was playing. I noticed that both Missy and Tilda were gone. Annie was still in my arms. It was just past midnight.

  I kept hold of Annie as I sleepily headed for the hallway, checking to see if Ve had come back yet. Her bedroom was empty, but lights blazed downstairs. I was just about to start down the steps when I heard the mystery woman’s voice.

  “. . . I thought I could, but I can’t. I just can’t. It would be too much in such close quarters. I have feelings, you know.”

  “What are you going to do?” Ve asked.

  “I don’t know. I thought I was ready to leave, but I’m not. I have to make a decision soon, obviously. I’ll talk to the Elder.”

  “Pooh,” Ve said. “Don’t even say her name to me. The position she’s put me with Darcy and that spell is unbearable. It’s never been so hard to keep a secret.”

  Well, that explained Ve’s hesitation to discuss the spell with me. If she was under orders to keep quiet from the Elder, she couldn’t tell me about the spell without severe consequence.

  But that left me wondering why the Elder was involved with the spell at all.

  “Never?” the woman said, a hint of humor in her voice. “The Elder’s identity . . .”

  Ve chuckled. “Almost never.”

  “Tell me about it,” the mystery woman said. “Secrets suck.”

  Ve said, “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

  As I listened, I debated about creeping down the steps a little bit farther, to see if I could finally catch a glimpse of the mystery woman.

  But even though just days ago I had believed I wanted all the village secrets revealed to me, for some reason some
thing deep down told me not to take a peek. That it was better not to know.

  Trusting my instincts, I turned around and went back to my room.

  Some village secrets, I reasoned, were simply meant to be kept.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The next morning, I stared at the coffeemaker, thinking there wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to get me going today. I’d slept poorly again the night before. Oh, I’d fall asleep okay but then would be rudely awakened by either Annie deciding the best place to snooze was on top of my head or repeated nightmares about my mother’s car accident.

  The nightmares were haunting me even now that I was fully awake, showered, and dressed. It wasn’t unusual for me to dream about that day, but this time had been different. . . .

  The crash had happened during a thunderstorm, and in my dream I was seven years old again, watching the paramedics trying to free my mother from the mangled car, watching them trying desperately to save her unborn baby. Then something above the wreckage would catch my eye. A mourning dove circling, dipping and rising, struggling to fly in the pouring rain. With its wings waterlogged, it appeared to be drowning in the downpour as it looked over at me.

  “I’ll always be with you,” the bird said, dropping lower and lower.

  Then I’d wake up, not knowing if the bird survived.

  And each time I woke up, I was crying.

  I was exhausted as I poured coffee to the rim of the mug, so full that I had to bend and slurp some out before lifting the cup.

  “You should just put a straw in the pot and save some time,” Aunt Ve said, coming down the back stairs into the kitchen.

  Annie crept along the kitchen countertop, and I scooped her up, nuzzled her face for a second, and then set her on the floor. “If I wasn’t afraid of the plastic melting, I would.”

  It was a little before eight, and I’d skipped my morning jog to spend more time in bed, trying to get an hour or two of solid sleep.

  It hadn’t happened.

  Thanks to those nightmares.

  Mother Nature didn’t even have the decency to send a little sunshine to perk me up. It was a dull and dreary day.

  “Are you all right, Darcy dear?” Ve asked, stepping up next to me and pressing a hand to my forehead. “You look unwell.”

  I had tried and tried to decipher what the nightmares meant but couldn’t quite pull together a clear explanation.

  “I’m fine,” I said warily. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

  Ve’s coppery hair was pulled back in its usual twist, the silver streaks quite noticeable in the overhead light. She was dressed for work in a pretty navy blue A-line dress and heels. “Not because of that spell, is it? I know you want an explanation, but I can’t give you one.”

  I lifted my mug, being careful not to slosh any of the precious caffeine over the rim. “I figured as much. Elder’s orders, I presume. I’ve been down this road a time or two since moving to the village.”

  She reached for the coffeepot and wiggled her eyebrows. “I cannot confirm or deny. So you understand?”

  “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

  She patted my cheek lovingly. “That’s understandable.”

  I cracked a smile.

  “That’s better.” She filled a travel mug with coffee. “I didn’t see you last night. . . . How was your night with Nick?” she asked in a singsong voice.

  My smile widened, and I knew she could easily see how happy he made me.

  She laughed. “You two make a lovely couple. I knew from the moment I saw you together that you were meant to be.”

  From her spot in her dog bed near the stairs, Missy started coughing, almost as if she had swallowed a bug or something. When we looked her way, she stopped just as suddenly as she had started. She licked her lips.

  “You need some water?” I asked her. Her full water dish sat right next to her dog bed.

  She licked her lips again, then set her head on top of her paws. I took that as a no.

  As if nothing odd had just happened, Ve said, “Love is a wonderful thing.”

  I thought about what Alina had said about love being foolish and felt sorry for her. If she had known love, real love, whether from a parent herself or someone with whom she was in a relationship with, she wouldn’t have said such a thing. Which made me feel even worse for her.

  “I’ve been thinking about when you move out,” Ve said. “Perhaps you could leave Missy with me. I could use a guard dog, and you’ll have Higgins. Missy likes it here, and I’m sure she would love to stay, wouldn’t you, girl?”

  Missy’s stubby tail started wagging.

  Ve’s request had caught me off guard. I couldn’t possibly leave Missy here . . . could I?

  No.

  Definitely not.

  “I . . . I know she loves it here,” I said. “So do I. But I couldn’t leave her behind. She’s . . . family.”

  Missy’s tail stopped wagging, then started up again.

  “It was worth a shot,” Ve murmured as she sipped her coffee.

  “Maybe you should think about adopting a dog,” I suggested. “Or the Furry Toadstool has puppies that need to find homes before this weekend. Reggie uses a reputable breeder.”

  “Perhaps I’ll talk Andreus into moving in with me,” Ve said, clearly thinking out loud. “He’d be better than any guard dog out there.”

  I shuddered. “That’s because he’s the scariest thing on the planet.”

  She laughed. “He is not. He’s just a little . . .”

  I waited.

  She tapped her chin. “He’s . . . unique!”

  Laughing, I refilled my coffee cup.

  “I’ll figure it out,” Ve said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “New normals. New adventures!”

  New normals. I had a lot of those in my future.

  “Do you have plans for the day, dear?” Ve asked.

  “Some loose ends to tie up,” I said, watching Annie oh so casually sashay over to Missy’s dog bed. Tilda was once again sitting at the top of the staircase, eyeing us all with disdain.

  My job for Ivy was pretty much done. It didn’t look as though Natasha’s death had anything whatsoever to do with the Extravaganza, but I couldn’t quite cut ties with Ivy yet. Not until I figured out if she was the petnapper. I owed it to all the pets in the village to see that mystery through.

  My job for the Elder was still ongoing as well, as I didn’t quite know how Chip factored into Natasha’s death. Was he a killer? Or a victim as well? I wouldn’t know for certain until Natasha’s case was solved. I made a mental note to track him down, ask him some additional questions. I also had to look at the As You Wish calendar to see what I had scheduled for the week so I could plan ahead.

  I already wanted to go back to bed. For a week or so.

  Annie had climbed into the dog bed with Missy and was licking the top of Missy’s head. Missy sent me a pleading look, her brown eyes imploring a quick intervention.

  After setting my mug on the counter, I opened the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out a folded paper grocery bag and opened it up, making sure to give it a good rattle.

  Annie immediately ceased licking and dipped low, her head nearly touching her front paws, but her backside was wagging in the air. Pounce mode.

  I set the bag on its side on the floor, and within a second, Annie was inside the sack, rolling around. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Tilda creeping down the steps and smiled.

  No cat could resist the lure of a paper bag.

  Ve watched the cats with amusement and said, “I need to head out. I have a few things to do at the village office this morning, and then T-I-L-D-A has a V-E-T appointment.”

  “I’ll pray for you.”

  Laughing, she headed into the mudroom. “I’d appreciat
e that. Call if you need anything, dear.”

  “I will,” I promised, following her out the back door onto the side porch.

  She hurried out the side gate, and I settled on the porch swing with my coffee. I tucked one leg beneath me and closed my eyes, to enjoy the quiet of the morning, the chattering birds, and the scent of the flowers that Cookie hadn’t been able to reach.

  I hadn’t heard any news that the goat had been found, and I wondered where she had gotten off to. It seemed she should have been found by now, especially since according to Reggie, goats were social animals—she would be naturally drawn to the village’s hustle and bustle.

  I heard a creak and opened my eyes, wondering if it was Archie ready to take his post for the day, but his elaborate iron cage remained empty. Instead I found Nick coming through the side gate, a smile spreading when he spotted me.

  Sometimes, like right now, I worried about how much I loved him. Worried that something would ruin it. That something would happen to him. Or me.

  I blamed this morning’s bout of anxiety on those nightmares, and forced myself to smile as he came up the steps, carrying a duffel bag.

  Stopping feet from me, he narrowed his gaze, and said, “What’s wrong?”

  He knew me too well to try to outright lie. “I’m okay. Just had nightmares last night,” I said, deflecting the truth only slightly.

  Giving me a kiss, he sat next to me. “About Natasha?” he asked.

  “No. My mother . . . and the Elder.” I explained the dream to him. “All I could come up with for a link was that I liken the Elder to a mother figure, and now that I suspect she is flying around the village as a mourning dove, it is only logical that my mind would use the bird to represent her. . . . But I don’t know why the bird was at the crash scene at all. Or why it was struggling.”

  “Do you feel like Elder is in trouble?” he asked. “Maybe that’s the connection.”

  “Not at all. That’s why it’s strange.”

  “Maybe it could be that you’re afraid on some level that you’re going to lose the Elder. That something is going to happen to her.”

  His interpretation hit close to home, especially considering the thoughts I’d just been having about him.