Love the Witch, Hate the Craft: A Romantic Paranormal Mystery (The Witches of Secret Hallow Book 1)

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Love the Witch, Hate the Craft: A Romantic Paranormal Mystery (The Witches of Secret Hallow Book 1) Page 11

by Nora Lee

“Unsanitary company,” Orianna said. “We should probably put warning labels on the pie.”

  They were crafting pies to sell in town—a mundane town outside of Secret Hallow—in order to bring in cash to help rebuild the Ash sisters’ school.

  “Gemma and Enid really think we can sell enough of these to be able to expand the school?” Orianna set into her task with a look similar to the one Rowan must have worn moments earlier. “This isn’t really the season for pumpkin pie.”

  Nana’s bark of laughter warmed Rowan. “The season doesn’t matter.”

  Smiling at her grandmother, Rowan thought of the “magical goodness” of Nana’s baked goods. Everyone in town loved her desserts, so people out in the mundane world would buy them up with no problem, no matter the time of year. “Nana’s right. No one can resist her pies, even if they’re baked with a dash of owl pellets on the side.”

  “She’s a good baker, huh?”

  “The best,” Rowan said.

  “Ooh, looks like we’re out of cream,” Orianna said. “Fern and I will run down to the Lief farm and see if we can get some fresh from their cattle.”

  “You’ll go faster if you’re on your own. Why don’t you leave Fern with me?” Rowan asked, smiling encouragingly.

  Orianna didn’t hesitate this time. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  She kissed her daughter goodbye and hurried out, purse in tow.

  Garrett watched as Nana pulled a fresh pie from the old cast-iron oven. When she struggled with the heavy tray, he hurried over to help. “Where do you want this?”

  Motioning at the countertop, Nana wiped the back of her hand across her sweaty brow, leaving behind a smudge of flour near the hairline, where her white hair curled around her lined forehead. The energetic and merry sparkle in her blue eyes belied the tired stoop of her shoulders and the way she leaned a hip against the table for support as she worked.

  Sparkles lit on her shoulder, nipping at her earlobe with her beak, until Nana fed the little owl a scrap of piecrust dough.

  Guilt again stabbed Rowan as she realized her grandmother shouldn’t look quite so old and frail. From what Rowan had been told, the Winterblossom family remained vital well into their advanced years, so Nana should still have been able to get around much better.

  “Is Nana hurt?” Fern asked.

  “Oh, the honesty of children,” Nana sighed happily. “Yes, I have a bad hip. Such is life!”

  Rowan felt a pang of guilt. “No, not ‘such is life.’” Dropping to her knees, she laid a gentle hand on the girl’s arm and nodded. “A few years ago, I lost control of my power and caused an earthquake. Something fell on her and broke her bones. When she healed, she couldn’t walk right anymore.”

  She was painfully aware that Garrett was watching her speak. It was the first time that Rowan had acknowledged the role she played in her grandmother’s frailty, and so it was the first time he’d heard about it, too.

  Understanding crashed over his features.

  “Rowan,” he murmured.

  Fern had such a serious expression on her little face. “Could I do that?”

  “Yes, honey. That could happen if you’re not careful with your power,” Rowan said. “It’s why we have to learn to be careful.”

  Nana spoke up. “Don’t worry about me, little one. I’m not sorry for anything that happened.”

  Rowan looked over to find Nana smiling at her. “What?”

  “Though I might need more help than I once did, that just means I get to see my friends and family more often than a lot of other people my age.” When Sparkles nudged her again, she laughed. “And I wouldn’t have my little friend here, either.”

  She hobbled over to Fern and Rowan. Nana kissed the top of Rowan’s head, whose eyes burned with tears.

  “Oh, Nana,” Rowan whispered.

  “There are blessings from the Goddess everywhere, if only you know how to look for them,” Nana told Fern. “There has not been a day that I haven’t thanked the universe for the magic that brought my family close to me. I owe so much to my precious granddaughter’s so-called accident—even if she only sees her gift of magic as a curse.”

  Hot tears slid down Rowan’s cheeks.

  Fern didn’t notice. Her attention span for the serious conversation at hand had already vanished. “Can I play with Sparkles?”

  Nana shooed the owl toward Fern. “Go on, you. Don’t be shy.”

  Sparkles flew off Nana’s shoulder and landed on the table in front of Fern.

  Reaching out, Rowan demonstrated how to stroke the owl without hurting her.

  Garrett helped her to her feet and continued to hold her hand for a few moments; comfort and strength flowed from him, helping her to push the feelings of guilt and regret back into the dark recesses of her mind once more.

  “No wonder you’re afraid of your magic,” Garrett murmured into her ear. “But you know that I’m strong enough to stand beside you through anything. Right?”

  Rowan was too choked up to speak.

  They baked pies together, shoulder-to-shoulder, and she drank deep of his strength in silence.

  Nana was right. Some wounds truly were blessings.

  Chapter 15

  THEY SPENT THE evening working hard on baking. Dozens of pumpkins turned into pies under Nana’s experienced hands, guided by her kitchen magic. Garrett was endlessly delighted by the flight of ingredients across the kitchen. He didn’t even care how much the dirty little owl got involved.

  The kitchen was filled with the scent of spice and the music of laughter, and for the first time in months—maybe years—Rowan felt truly comfortable. As though she had finally come home.

  Fern grew antsy, though. Even a happy kitchen could get boring for a girl so little with the soul of a hurricane.

  “I’ll take her out to pick more pumpkins,” Rowan volunteered, slinging Fern on her hip. “How many more do you think we’ll need, Grandmother?”

  “Bring in whatever looks good. I’m sure we’ll sell all our pies with no problem.”

  Rowan kissed Nana’s cheek. “I’m sure we will.” She shot a smile at Garrett, who had taken over removing pumpkin guts while Orianna tidied up earlier messes. He fit in so well with the witches. He didn’t even need magic to act like one of the coven.

  Once outside, Rowan took a deep breath of the fresh air, shading her eyes until they adjusted to the bright sunlight.

  Fern skipped to the pumpkins with a delighted squeal, wild hair whipped by the wind. “Pumpkins! Pretty!”

  Rowan laughed and followed.

  Putting on a pair of gloves, Rowan moved the old wooden wheelbarrow into the patch. “Tell me which ones to cut free.”

  “This one!” Fern pointed at a huge pumpkin resting in a nest of dark green leaves.

  Rowan struggled to hack the pumpkin free. It would have been much easier with her earth magic, and the fatigue in her muscles made her very tempted to reach out for help from the Elder Tree. Rowan resisted, though. Fern “helped” lift the massive orange orb into the wheelbarrow. “Oh, bats! That was heavier than Nana’s cauldron! We won’t need too many if they’re all that big.”

  Fern had already darted to another one.

  “This! This!”

  Rowan obediently cut another giant pumpkin free, and another. Her arms burned and her back ached with the exertion. Magic sounded more tempting.

  After an hour in the patch, the wheelbarrow was full. Rowan straightened with a groan. “I think we have more than enough here, don’t you?” Rowan nodded toward the cottage. “Could you please go tell Garrett I need help?”

  Fern disappeared inside, only to reappear moments later with Garrett in tow. “Look!” Her arm flapped wildly as she pointed at the pumpkins.

  “You guys did a great job.” Garrett took the handles of the wheelbarrow from Rowan. She openly admired the flex of his biceps, cheeks turning pink at the way his body moved under the t-shirt.

  “You too,” Rowan said.

  She
dropped the gloves onto the potting bench and rushed inside to guide Garrett.

  There was one more person in the kitchen than there should have been.

  Caedmon was rolling out a piecrust with Nana’s help. “Hey!”

  “Hello.” Rowan couldn’t keep the frosty undertone out of her voice. “Why are you here?”

  “Why do you think? I’m helping to make the pies!” He said this just as he tore a giant hole in the crust, ripping it neatly down the center. His face fell.

  “Ooh, such strong hands,” Nana cooed, patting his arm. “A benefit in most things, but not so much in cooking! Try again, darling warlock.” She plucked the torn dough out of the way and plopped a new ball in front of him. Judging by all the dough scraps Nana was rolling out, Caedmon had already shredded several.

  Rowan couldn’t help but smile at how helpless Caedmon was in the kitchen. The floury handprints on his shirt and smudge of pumpkin on his chin were humanizing, if not outright charming. Was there a single witch in Secret Hallow who hadn’t been overwhelmed in Nana’s kitchen before?

  Garrett stopped the wheelbarrow at the threshold and squeezed through the narrow opening. “Where would you like these?”

  Nana motioned toward a basket in the far corner of the room. “Over there’s fine.” She turned to Caedmon. “I’ve got this. Why don’t you help unload the pumpkins?”

  “Sure thing.” Caedmon magicked the heaviest pumpkin off the cart with a flick of his finger. The massive gourd flew a short distance before falling to the floor with a loud splat, showering everyone with seeds and juice.

  Fern shrieked with joy while Rowan took cover, hiding from the splatters too late. She was doused in nasty pumpkin guts.

  Caedmon was as hopeless with gourds as he was with pie dough.

  He seemed fully aware of it. “Sorry, sorry. Let me clean that up.” He waved a hand again. The pumpkin flew back together and shot across the room—straight at Garrett’s head.

  Rowan raised a hand and stopped the pumpkin in mid-flight.

  She didn’t even have to think to wrench control of the pumpkin away from Caedmon. Her magic swatted his aside easily, with little more than a spark of bright green stars that lit the entire kitchen.

  The fact that Rowan’s casual magic overpowered Caedmon’s deliberate casting only seemed to make him angrier.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  Rowan smiled sweetly. “Just trying to help.”

  His face reddened, but Nana swept in smoothly before he could burst. “You know, Caedmon, I just realized I could use your help much more in another area—one slightly less food oriented. Why don’t you go keep Fern amused? She’s been very patient and I’m sure she’s bored.”

  They all looked over at Fern, who stared back at them with wide eyes.

  “What do you think, little monster?” Rowan asked.

  Fern eyed Caedmon dubiously. “Okay,” she said, heaving a sigh, as though she’d been assigned a terrible chore.

  The tension eased as the adults all laughed.

  Garrett shook his head and went back to unloading pumpkins while Nana returned to the pie making. They all worked in companionable silence for a while. At least, most of them worked in silence. Caedmon and Fern only took a few moments to go from uneasy to peals of shared laughter.

  Rowan marveled at how good he seemed to be with the child. He’d given her a large glass of water and she drank down half the cool liquid in one go. Once she’d set down her drink, he waved a hand, and the remaining water began to bubble up.

  Within moments, a small stream erupted from the top of the glass and created a heart shape, which then broke in two.

  Fern laughed and clapped her hands. “Pretty! More!”

  Caedmon continued to create shapes out of the water as Fern laughed and clapped. She splashed water all over Caedmon, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

  He was different when he was with Fern—more patient, kinder, and almost like a normal person.

  Rowan wondered why he had been fighting with Orianna the night before. If Caedmon was so good with Fern, and if he had chemistry with Orianna—which he obviously did—then they would be a match made in the Samhain Grove.

  If only Rowan could convince Caedmon to give up the ridiculous idea that he should marry her in order to become the high priest.

  Not that Rowan was thinking much about marriage for her own future yet, but if she had been, there would have been only one groom she could imagine waiting at the altar for her handfasting.

  Her gaze drifted to Garrett as she became lost in thought. Their eyes met and her stomach did a flip when he smiled.

  “How was last night’s esbat?” Rowan asked, trying to keep all hints of mischief out of her tone.

  “It was excellent,” Caedmon said. He made the water dance in the shape of a butterfly, much to Fern’s delight. “It was a blessing to have Orianna among us for the first time.”

  “A blessing indeed,” Nana murmured, winking at Rowan. Her thoughts were headed in the same direction. “I think we should all call it a day with these pies. I’ll just clean up here.”

  “You go rest, Nana. We can clean up,” Rowan said.

  Her grandmother gave her a weary smile. “Are you sure?”

  Garrett offered his arm to Nana. “Can I help you to your room? Between the three of us, we’ll have your kitchen cleaned up in no time.”

  “You’re a sweet young man. Thank you.” Nana took the arm she’d been offered, fondling his muscles not-too-sneakily. Apparently she liked what she felt under her fingertips. She flashed a thumbs-up at Rowan.

  As they left the room, Caedmon waved the dirty dishes and utensils toward the sink as Rowan hurried to grab a cloth to wipe up the mess on the table and counters. She gave an appreciative sniff of the cooling pies as she worked. Nana had worked the best of her magic yet again.

  “The Winterblossom family has led this coven for a long time, hasn’t it?” Caedmon asked.

  Rowan rolled her eyes. “Yes. Let’s not talk Winterblossoms and Middlebrooks, though. Let’s talk Orianna. She’s a wonderful witch. You should ask her out sometime.”

  His eyes darkened. “I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. She wants nothing to do with me.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.” Rowan knew her best friend better than anyone else in the world. Even if Orianna hadn’t confessed to beginning to fall for Caedmon, she would have known there was a spark between them. “In any case, the coven won’t survive if we marry. You need to be with Ori. I saw you last night when you took her home.”

  Caedmon’s magical dancing dishes stopped, dripping water onto the floor. He stared at her.

  “You did?”

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Didn’t you feel it when you kissed? All of Secret Hallow sang with joy. The two of you are meant to be and your love will cure the Elder Tree.” Rowan looked toward the doorway between the kitchen and hall to be sure Garrett hadn’t returned yet. “You’ve got to be with Orianna, not me. I’m not meant to be your wife.”

  “Why is that? Because you’re in love with…him?” Caedmon crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Yes,” Rowan said fiercely. “I am in love with him.”

  She hadn’t even realized it until the moment she said it. The word dawned over her, warm and comfortable.

  A smile spread over her lips.

  “I’m still in love with Garrett,” she said wonderingly, hands folding over her heart. It was performing acrobatics within her chest.

  She had never fallen out of love with Garrett, but there had been too many walls within her to allow it to bloom properly. Her fear of causing pain had faded with Nana’s reassurances. Garrett’s unfaltering acceptance had taken every other hesitation away.

  Nothing remained within Rowan but love, pure and true.

  “You can’t even consider spending your life with a mundane man. You’re meant for greater things than that,” Caedmon said.


  Rowan threw the broom she’d been using to the floor. “My life is none of your business!”

  “Get over your ridiculous desire to throw your life away with a man who has no power. If you marry him, you’ll break your family’s long tradition of overseeing the coven. Secret Hallow will cease to be.”

  “Secret Hallow will cease to be if you don’t open your heart to Orianna. I’ve felt your combined power. You two are the force that’s meant to heal the Elder Tree.” Rowan clenched her teeth. “And, much as I hate to say this, you’re also just the person to teach Fern to control her powers. She needs you as much as her mother does.”

  “Too bad her mother doesn’t want me,” Caedmon said. The words came out unexpectedly ragged, allowing Rowan to peer through his soul to the heartache within.

  Rowan frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You saw us fighting last night. Well, now you know why! It’s not the first time I’ve approached Orianna, but the answer is always the same. She believes I can’t handle her or her daughter’s needs and nothing I say will change that.” He flung the dishes magically into the sink. Soapy water splashed over the counter. “If you think I’d rather be with you if I could have Orianna—well, you have another think coming! I’d far rather get handfasted for love than status.”

  “Wait,” Rowan said, her heart skipping a beat. “You’re in love with Orianna?”

  “She’s the entire reason I came to Secret Hallow,” Caedmon said. “We met years ago when she summered in California, long before she birthed Fern, and I haven’t been able to think of anything since!”

  “You’re not the father, are you?”

  His eyes filled with fierce heat. “No, but I would be if she would let me. But Orianna, if such a thing is possible, wants me even less than you do, Rowan!”

  Garrett reappeared in the kitchen, accompanied by Orianna, who had come home with a large Mason jar filled with cream. “What on earth is all the shouting about?” she asked, eyes flicking between Rowan and Caedmon. She plucked at the neck of her blouse when she looked at the warlock. Her whole face was red.

  Rowan had been so caught up in her argument with Caedmon that she had forgotten they weren’t alone in the house. “We were just having a disagreement. It’s nothing big.”

 

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