Waapake sat quiet on his haunches.
Keir looked at Rowe. “Adara’s threat, enforceable or not, intends to keep you from Jancie if you go to New Wish.”
“Her magic can’t work there, can it?” Rowe asked.
“I don’t know. But it follows from what Cyril told me the other day during my run out on Dead Tree Trail.”
“The coon king?”
His friend nodded. “I didn’t understand his meaning then. Now it makes more sense. He said, ‘Tell who you call friends that sparks will soon fly, when two secret charms reach the moonstone’s eye.’ You and Jancie may be stumbling into spells hidden in that gem she’s wearing. At any rate, there are rough times ahead. Be careful, my friend.”
Chapter Twenty-one: Dance With Me
Jancie’s mind whirled as she drove away from Dad’s house.
She was a witch. What did that mean? How would her life be different now? Everything she thought she knew has suddenly shifted. Sweat beaded along her upper lip. She gripped the steering wheel to pull her back to the reality of the traffic around her.
She knew Dad loved her and wanted what he thought was best for her, but that wasn’t possible. He’d been hurt bad, and that made him overprotective. Even though he was grateful Mom had been a good witch and protected him from Grizela Tabard, he just couldn’t accept Jancie being a witch. She understood his concern, but that didn’t make it right. She had to be her own person. She hoped, in time, he’d love her as a witch. She bit her lip and wondered how long before that day would come, if at all. He was so dead set against witches.
What dreams did Dad have before he was lucky to have just one good path to follow? She thought back to all the plans she’d made before Mom got sick with cancer. A good life isn’t about having lots of paths to choose from. It’s about making the one path you do have the best it can be.
She pulled to a stop at a light and smacked a hand against the wheel. “Damn. I need to listen to myself.” I have one good path in front of me, and I’m not following it.
She changed her turn signal to make a right turn rather than a left onto Maple Street toward the coven.
Her headlights caught the three bent old lady oak trees still huddled in their thin coats of withered brown leaves. She drove past the farmhouse where the pickup with a wooden bed sat sentry. The sights of the coven seemed different now. Whether they were or not, she couldn’t tell, but knowing her great grandfather Louis was a Coon Hollow witch changed everything. She was part of this place. Not an outsider.
Jancie turned onto the river road and wound her way past log cabins billowing chimney smoke to the big white brick house with the lovely art glass windows. She glanced at the dark property as she turned onto the drive. Was he home? Her pulse quickened. She hadn’t expected him to be gone. She parked, ran to the front door, and rapped the knocker. Scuffling noises sounded inside, and she smiled, ready for the door to open. But it didn’t. She knocked again. Still no answer. She trudged back to her car, thinking back to whether he mentioned where he’d be this evening. No, he’s trying not to be friends with me, remember. She leaned against her car door and scanned the yard. Loneliness passed over her.
Something rustled in the bushes at one corner of the house.
Jancie took a tentative step toward the noise. She took a deep breath, afraid it might be Adara in some altered form.
In the flood lights from the garage shed, orange eyes glinted through a black mask.
Jancie gasped and backed away until she caught sight of a striped tan and black furry tail. Just a raccoon.
“Lassie, I feel the south wind about you.” The coon stepped away from the bush. “I’m Cyril, coon king of this here hollow.”
“Umm, hello, Cyril.” Jancie cautiously leaned forward. “I’ve heard the playground song kids sing about the coon king, but didn’t think you were real.”
“Very.” He swished his tail from side to side and chattered. “I felt your breeze a blowin’ through the hollow and been lookin’ for you since. I’ve a warning for you that sparks will soon fly, when two secret charms reach the moonstone’s eye.”
Jancie clasped a hand around the locket resting on her chest. “How do you know this?”
“Heard it in a gully trickle when I washed a juicy berry.”
Was this strange critter telling the truth? Jancie guessed the one secret charm must be the trace of New Wish magic Vika found on the moonstone. She didn’t have a clue about the other one. “What are the two charms?”
“I only know they carry scents of the two strongest winds. North and south. The rest is up to you, lass.”
“Thank you for your information, Cyril.” Jancie knelt and reached a hand out to the raccoon, but headlights along the road scared him away. Blinded, she could only make out the round shape of the old style lamps. She wished she could have slipped into the darkness with the raccoon but she was caught like a wild animal, the advantage with the unknown driver.
“Jancie!” Rowe’s voice called out as the car turned onto the drive.
She let out a loud sigh. Spots in her eyes, she stood with effort as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” He led her onto the porch and through the door.
“Yes, just blinded from your car’s headlights.” Inside, the lamps helped her eyes adjust.
He let his arm fall from her shoulder to her hand.
As he put distance between them, a knot formed in the base of her throat. She needed him but couldn’t find the words to convince him that she or Vika hadn’t already said. The ache dropped into her heart, and she grabbed for his fingers slipping away.
“It’s not safe for you to be here. Why are you here?” His gaze met hers and he flinched, then threaded his fingers through hers.
A tremble shook through her throat as if the disorganized words were jumbled and stuck. “I…I’m a witch. I belong—”
He pulled her into a close embrace. “With me. We belong together.” His arms held her tight. “Whatever lies ahead, I’ll be with you.”
Her cheek against his chest, happy tears slipped from Jancie’s eyes as their corners crinkled with a wide smile.
She hoped her dad would eventually accept her as a witch, but there was no guarantee considering how dealing with witches had changed his dreams. She belonged with her mother, but Mom was gone except for traces of her spirit. Jancie’s friends weren’t witches. Just another reason she couldn’t fit in. Except with Rachelle, who loved her no matter what.
Like Dad found only one path in his life, Jancie’s one wonderful direction was with Rowe and finding her own purpose as a witch. And that felt just right.
Rowe looked down at her and smiled as if he understood her thoughts. He kissed the trail of tears along one cheek.
“I need to go to New Wish,” she murmured.
“Not tonight. Dance with me.” His warm hands moved along her back, holding her close as he led her in a slow foxtrot. His mouth found hers for a passionate kiss.
Heat rushed into Jancie’s face. The song they’d danced to before began to play in her memory. Their feet shuffled back and forth. Their bodies swayed as one in arcs through the foyer. When they swept past the parlor’s French doors, she noticed the phonograph turning, the needle set on a record, Tilly the large wing chair nearby. She couldn’t help but smile in the middle of a kiss. And felt his lips curl, too.
Rowe’s hands followed the curve of her waist and moved lower, cupping her bottom.
A moan escaped her lips, and she gasped for breath, holding to his strong shoulders to keep her balance.
He danced them to the stairwell and let the music play on while he led her up the stairs to his bedroom.
The burgundy velvet bedspread and drapes were warm and inviting, like his touch on her bare skin. She melted into him.
Clothing came off in a hurry, tossed aside with no care other than to be as close together as possible.
Rowe’s touch made her coo and squirm against him
in complete ecstasy. At one moment, the back of her hand brushed the moonstone lying between her breasts. The gem flashed blue, and a vision of her great grandparents, Maggie and Louis, passed through her mind. She sensed their intense love for each other. The same feeling that swelled in her heart for Rowe.
Chapter Twenty-two: Herbal Tea
Jancie took her time driving back into Bentbone, choosing the more scenic twists and turns of Owls Tail Creek Road. Sleepy log cabins peeked from under heavy yellow and orange maple limbs. The sun shined on a lazy Saturday morning as it reached toward its highest point in the sky. Her Camry kicked up puddles of colored leaves. She could see why vacationers chose their little valley for weekend getaways this time of year. The hollow was dressed in its finest colors, the best she could remember in years. Or maybe she just hadn’t looked with the right eyes. She smiled to herself. Now that she was in love with Rowe, it seemed hard to believe that problems could touch her.
Her cell phone rang and broke her happy delirium.
“Hey, Rachelle. What’s up?” Jancie answered.
“The print shop owner has to leave and close the store at noon today. Let’s celebrate! How about lunch? Maybe some shopping too?”
Jancie glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. “I’m a wreck. Can you give me an hour?”
“An hour? Did a train hit you?”
“Not quite. But I’m not home. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“You don’t sound out of breath, so you’re not out running.” Rachelle squealed so loud, Jancie held the phone away from her ear. “You stayed at Rowe’s last night, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“Tell me everything. What’s it like doing it with a witch?”
Jancie laughed. “Well, he’s amazing. How about we save details for lunch.”
“Damn, girl. Hurry up.” Rachelle said something to someone in the background and then spoke do Jancie again. “How about I meet you at your house? We can talk while you clean up.”
“Great. Come on over any time.” Jancie hung up and shook her head, wondering where to begin telling her best friend all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
After she turned onto Main Street and entered Bentbone’s tiny business district, the phone rang again, this time with Lizbeth’s ringtone. “Hi Lizbeth.”
“I’m at work but had to call. I just got some references I’d ordered after we talked about that moonstone last weekend. You’ve got to hear this.”
“Do I want to hear it?” Jancie checked traffic and braced herself for bad news.
“After all the old-fashioned research I had to do, you’re going to hear it.”
Jancie laughed. “Thanks. I owe you. Tell me.”
“It turns out that the creator of the moonstone, Jude Oatley, who enchanted it back in 1850, wanted it to gather positive energy from those it healed. That way, the magic was strengthened for future use. I got a copy of his journal when he made the stone. The strange thing was he worried about the gem’s receptiveness being too great. Getting it just receptive enough caused him trouble.”
“That doesn’t sound good, but I think Vika is aware of that. We’re trying to find someone who might know more about this exact idea. I’m glad to know what you learned.”
“Jancie, be careful. I’m worried.”
“Thank, Lizbeth. It’s good to have friends who worry about me. Are you working all day?”
“Yeppers. And tomorrow. Why?”
“Rachelle got off early, and we’re spending the afternoon together. Though you might join us.”
“Thanks, but sorry. Hey, my break’s over. Catch you later.”
Jancie turned onto her street, and Rachelle’s boat of an old Chrysler already sat in her driveway.
Rachelle leaned against the back bumper, the hem of her Bohemian green print skirt hanging on the gravel. “Yep, you’ve got that new lover glow,” she called out when Jancie stepped from her car.
“That bad?” Jancie fluffed the short front sections of her hair. The back she’d gathered in a ponytail at Rowe’s.
“Nah. You look perfect. In love.” Rachelle draped an arm around Jancie as they made their way inside.
Jancie plopped her purse on the kitchen counter. “I took a shower at Rowe’s but need clean clothes and some makeup. That won’t take me too long.” She motioned for her friend to follow her into the bedroom.
Rachelle flopped onto the bed. “Spill.”
Jancie opened her closet and dug for a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top. She tossed them beside Rachelle with a grin. “Well, he’s a good dancer.”
Rachelle lifted a single brow. “You danced at his house?”
“Mmm. Yes. He does a sexy foxtrot.”
“A romantic.”
“Very.” Jancie wriggled out of the jeans she’d worn yesterday and imagined the cloth against her skin to be his hands caressing her.
“Romantic men make good lovers. They’re not in a rush. Am I right?”
Jancie’s grin grew wider.
Rachelle leaned on one elbow. “Did he use magic when you did it?”
The word ‘magic’ made Jancie fumble with the blouse she wrestled with. Her head poked out with the garment backwards. She sighed and hoped her friend would accept her as a witch with real powers, not just having witch blood.
Rachelle laughed so hard she snorted. “That good, huh?” When Jancie’s head appeared again, her friend pressed more. “So was his touch magic or what?”
Jancie’s phone rang on the dresser with a special ringer she’d assigned to Rowe and Vika. She dove for it.
“Must be loverboy,” Rachelle sang.
Jancie looked at the phone. She shook her head and answered. “Hello, Vika.”
“Jancie, I’m hurt bad and need your powers to help me.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “Adara was here. Siddie chased her away. I don’t know where my sweet cat is. Rowe needs to find her. Call him. Bring your mother’s peppermint and come fast.”
“I’ll be there right away. I’ll call Rowe. Is anyone with you?”
“No. I called the neighbors down the road,” Vika’s voice grew weak, “but they didn’t answer.”
“Okay, stay calm. I’m on the way.” Jancie shot Rachelle a concerned look, and her friend scooted off the bed. Jancie hung up and pressed Rowe’s number. “Answer. Please, answer.” As soon as he said hello, she blurted out, “Vika called me. She’s been injured by Adara.”
“Oh, no! Did she say how bad?”
“No, just that she needs our help right away. Siddie didn’t come home after chasing Adara. Vika wants you to look for the cat. I have to gather an herb Vika wanted, then I’ll be right there.”
He gave directions and mentioned a dense woods, which made Jancie anxious. His lowered his voice. “Jancie, if you get there first, be careful. Adara may have laid a trap.”
“I will.” Jancie rushed to the pad of paper on her nightstand and scribbled his directions while repeating them. She hung up and wrangled her shirt into place and worked on some easy slip-on loafers.
“Vika’s hurt?” Rachelle asked.
“Yes, by Adara, and I need to help at her house. Are you coming with me?”
“Of course. Let’s go.”
Jancie raced through the kitchen and grabbed a plastic bag and shears on the way to the garden. There, she crouched and cut several stems of peppermint and shoved two leaves into her jeans pocket. She tried to stand, but something made her pause. Her hand moved to the rosemary, and she collected two woody branches, then several short marjoram cuttings. She took a deep breath. “Thank you, Mom. Please, please be with me and help me heal Vika.”
They jumped into Jancie’s car, and tore through town with Rachelle on the lookout for cops. On Maple Street, Jancie depressed the accelerator down the hill, the car doing nearly seventy on the county road.
She executed sharp turns, throwing Rachelle side to side while the poor girl blurted out directions from the creased paper.
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Jancie glanced at her friend. “You okay?”
“Yes. Go!” Rachelle pressed herself away from the passenger door.
Jancie sped up. Without taking her eyes off the road, she blurted out, “I have something you need to know right now. I found out I’m a real witch, with both Coon Hollow and New Wish blood. I’ve got to use my powers to help heal Vika. I didn’t want you to be weirded out.”
“Damn, girl! And you used to think your life was boring.”
Once in the woods, Jancie slowed, unable to see houses for the thick growth of yellow-leaved maples and bushy pines. The second mailbox came into view and she turned onto the gravel lane. A rambling fairytale cottage with tall gables sprang up in a clearing ahead. Rowe’s black sedan was parked in the circular drive. She pulled in behind, and Rachelle dashed with her to the front door.
Jancie knocked and called, “Vika? It’s Jancie.”
“Have you been here before?” Rachelle whispered.
Jancie shook her head, listening for any response.
“Jancie, come on in,” Rowe called.
She turned the tarnished brass knob and pushed the heavy door open. The home smelled earthy with the aromas of dried herbs that Jancie recognized. She took a few steps along the wide plank flooring in the narrow hall until she saw Busby winging toward her. She picked up her pace to meet and follow him into a sitting room. Rambling roses on the wallpaper had crowded to the corner of the room where Vika lay on a Victorian chaise lounge.
Rowe glanced up, his face drawn and pale, when Jancie entered, but he continued passing his palms across Vika’s body. “She has evil inside her. I heal injuries, but more spring up. The evil is spreading and working faster. I can’t keep up. I need your magic.”
Jancie took the old witch’s hand. “Vika, I’m here. I brought the peppermint you asked for and other herbs that Mom guided me to collect.”
Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3 Page 24
