by Cindy Stark
Unless his narcissistic personality made it impossible for him to accept she’d ended the relationship. Maybe he wanted to win her back so he could break up with her.
She wouldn’t put it past him.
His second and more obvious reason was to give Peter something to worry about and drive a wedge between them.
That wasn’t happening.
Even if Peter did hear that she’d been on Victor’s bike, he knew how much she despised her ex-boyfriend. He couldn’t possibly believe that she’d give him a second chance and ruin things with Peter.
Memories of Peter’s jealousy when he’d thought she’d been interested in Luca, the sexy Italian art thief, resurrected in her brain, making her nervous, but she pushed them away. So much had happened between then and now that solidified their relationship.
She nudged Victor with her thighs. The spike in his energy told her that hadn’t been the best move. Next, she tapped his shoulder and leaned close to his ear.
“Did you forget where I live?”
He dropped a hand from the handlebars and placed it on her thigh. “Didn’t forget,” he called over his shoulder.
She groaned and shook her head. “Take me home, Victor. Now.”
He didn’t immediately respond to her request, and she wondered if she’d have to be more forceful. But then, he slowed and turned the bike back toward her house. They arrived in less than three minutes.
The second he stopped, she slid from behind him and turned an angry but mostly annoyed gaze on him. “That was not a ride home.”
He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Haven’t you ever heard of taking time to stop and smell the roses?”
“I don’t want to smell the roses with you, Victor. When are you going to realize that?”
He grinned. “Oh, lovely goddess. Do you think I can’t sense your attraction to me? Just now, while we were driving where the trees were the thickest and it was just you and me and the road…you can’t lie about what you were feeling. Your heart chakra was wide open.”
The man was impossible. “Open to nature. To the beauty around us. Not to you, Victor. Never again. I need more than you’re capable of giving.”
His expression turned serious. “I can give you whatever you need, sexy goddess.”
Arguing with a man like him was pointless. “Thank you for the ride and your concern over my safety, Victor. But, I love Peter. Our souls have intertwined in a way you’ll never understand.”
Dark emotions blew in like a fast-moving storm, changing the energy surrounding them. “He’s not meant for you. I am.”
She was done with this conversation.
She shook her head and turned from him. “Goodbye, Victor,” she called over her shoulder and headed straight into her house.
Inside, the cooler air calmed her head and her heart. She pulled the phone from her pocket and sent off a nastygram to her mother, telling her she needed to recall her henchman if she ever wanted to see her daughter again.
If she’d been speaking to her mother at that point, she would have called instead. But then she knew very well that would have disintegrated into another argument about what was best for her. Neither Victor nor her mother knew what that was. Only she did.
Peter was the best thing she’d ever had in her life. Period.
As she gathered a few candles to light and bless her new home and her supply of peppermint to chase away the spiders who’d taken up residence, she glanced about for her snarky cat. With as pampered as he was, she couldn’t imagine he’d want to be out in this heat.
Still, he was nowhere to be seen. Even the food in his bowl from that morning remained untouched.
He could at least let her know if he had plans that would keep him away from home so that she wouldn’t worry. They’d have a discussion about responsible behavior toward a roommate the next time she saw him.
She stopped and snorted a laugh.
Really, who was she to worry about a three-hundred-year-old cat? He obviously could take care of himself.
She grabbed her car keys from the table beside the front door and headed out.
Eleven
A weird sensation crested over Hazel as she pulled her car into the driveway of Clarabelle’s house.
No, her house.
She’d always parked her car along the road closer to the grove of trees. If she’d ridden her bike, she’d park it alongside the house or in back.
But this time, she pulled square into the drive like she owned it. Because she did.
She released another tiny squeal of excitement as she removed the keys from the ignition and opened the car door.
Outside, she stared up at the house, seeing it with new eyes. It was no longer a place to sneak inside. She would fall asleep here every night and wake up in the morning with the multitude of trees shading her house and providing homes to the many singing birds. The gardens out back belonged to her now, a gift from the Blessed Mother passed to her through her grandmother.
The rental where she’d been living was small, but quaint, located only a few blocks from Main Street. She’d loved it there.
But this house was completely different. The two-story First Period home with adorable pitched gables had survived hundreds of years despite the curses her grandmother had put on the town including violent storms and extreme temperatures. Set amongst the trees and not far from a stream, it retained a wildness that called to Hazel like nothing she’d ever known.
Maybe that yearning was another of Clarabelle’s curses. She couldn’t know. Regardless, the feeling gripped her deep in the heart, and she knew it would never let go.
She’d finally come home.
Movement to the left of her stole her attention, and she looked just in time to catch a flash of ginger-colored fur dashing through the thick trees, along with something black if her eyes didn’t deceive her.
The idea of Mr. Kitty having friends seemed odd, but of course, he’d want companionship, too.
She climbed the front steps with happiness resonating throughout her. The key slid easily into the lock. Even though she didn’t really need it, she loved the idea of what the object represented.
Hazel stepped inside, and a rush of warmth and love immediately surrounded her.
I’ve been waiting.
She glanced about the room as though she might catch a glimpse of Clarabelle like some had. “Sorry. I should have come back sooner.”
But, you’re here now. To stay.
Hazel wanted to ask how she knew, but some things were better left alone.
“Yes. I’ve come home, Clarabelle.”
A ringing of happy laughter echoed through the house. Finally.
Her grandmother’s overwhelming exuberance left her guarded. “You’ve had other relatives in this house throughout the years, haven’t you?”
She didn’t receive an answer.
She waited a few moments but got the distinct impression Clarabelle had drifted off to somewhere else. Not gone, but not in her immediate presence. Perhaps she was off celebrating with her fellow witchy friends, if they still inhabited the earth somewhere in some way.
Whatever. She had her own things to do.
Hazel placed the candles on the mantle and lit them. “Bless and protect this home where I’ve come to be. Fill it with love and laughter, so mote it be.”
She strolled through her new home, scattering peppermint near the doorways and opening all the windows to let out some of the stifling heat. The people of long ago lived with sweltering and frigid temperatures, but in today’s society, she thankfully didn’t have to.
She hated to mess with the originality of the house, but someone had added heat years ago. There was no difference if she had it cooled along with that.
As she glanced about the dusty, cobwebbed space, the magnitude of the work required to whip it into shape hit her hard. Her earlier visits had all been about the history and an overview of the rooms.
Now, she saw the dirt and the upkeep.
When she’d told Lachlan she would be busy enough with her shop and this house, she hadn’t been kidding.
Didn’t matter, though. The house was hers, and soon, she and Mr. Kitty would make it a home.
Hazel took a seat on the top step and surveyed the charming rooms below her. If Gretta was still okay being alone, she’d start cleaning today.
But, first things first.
“Clarabelle?” she called out in a loud voice. “I need you.”
A gust of cool wind flew past her, teasing strands of her hair.
“We need to talk,” she said to the unseen entity. “The town has a little problem of far too much heat and a nasty swarm of bees, and it needs to end.”
Death, came the ethereal whisper.
The heartache that followed the word burrowed deep into Hazel’s soul.
“Yes,” she answered softly. “Killed by another witch.”
Noooo…
“It was all very tragic,” Hazel conceded. “But neither party was entirely innocent.”
The anguish inside her built despite what she’d told Clarabelle.
“I need to talk to you about the curse. Don’t you think it’s gone on long enough? It’s hurting a lot of innocent people.”
No.
Hazel flung out her arm as proof and pointed to the red welt that looked better since she’d applied the salve. “See? They’re even attacking me.”
Confusion circled the atmosphere.
“That’s right. Whatever you’d intended didn’t go as planned.”
Hazel was encouraged by Clarabelle’s silence. “The people who live here today aren’t the same as the ones who hurt you and your friends. Many of them come from families far from Stonebridge who had nothing to do with what happened all those years ago, but your curse is punishing them, too.”
Silence.
Then an angry energy circled her several times before vanishing, leaving an obvious void in the room.
Hazel sighed in frustration and then mumbled. “That didn’t go as planned.”
Though she wasn’t sure what she had expected from Clarabelle.
An apology?
She tried to remind herself of the pain and torture her grandmother had endured and where her intentions had taken to seed.
Maybe Hazel wanted an acknowledgement or even regret.
Then again, from the pain Hazel sensed in Clarabelle’s soul, she had a feeling not much had changed for her grandmother during the past hundreds of years. Maybe she was stuck living in those emotions, and that’s why she seemed so unhappy and restless.
The sound of a car door closing stole her attention, and she hurried down the stairs, holding tight to the handrail lest she fall. She opened the front door just as Peter reached the door.
She strode forward and into his arms. “Hey there, handsome.”
“Hey there, beautiful.”
His lips covered hers, and she drank in the sweetness. Her life right now was amazing, despite certain members of the town who’d like to see her dead.
She dropped down from her tiptoes and took his hand. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Instead of letting her pull him inside, he remained rooted and stretched out her arm instead. He pointed toward the angry red bee sting. “What happened to you?”
She groaned. “I’ll let you guess.”
“Don’t tell me it was the swarm of bees.”
She nodded.
“Dang it. We’ve had four reports of instances today. EMTs transported an elderly man who’d had a severe reaction.”
“I have to say, this kind of scares me, Peter.”
One could stay inside while a violent winter storm passed, but who knew how long these bees would be in town? Life couldn’t come to a grinding halt for weeks.
“I don’t like it, either.”
She braced herself for her next words, hoping he wouldn’t think she was an idiot. “I had a conversation with Clarabelle about it.”
His eyebrows might have lifted a bit higher than his usual questioning expression, but he didn’t freak out. “And what did she have to say?”
“Well…communication with her is spotty at best. She tends to come and go, and never speaks in full sentences, but when I told her about all the innocent people her curse was hurting, she wasn’t happy. More like confused. Like maybe this wasn’t what she and her friends had intended.”
She paused for a moment. “She didn’t seem particularly happy that I’d been stung. I’d hoped she could help me find a way to stop it, but when I questioned her about it, she disappeared.”
“Hmm…”
She waited for him to expound, but he remained silent. “Just, hmm… That’s all you have to say?”
“What else is there? If you could find a way to stop it before they harm anyone else, that would be great. But it doesn’t seem like Clarabelle will be a lot of help.”
She sighed. “Well, I’m not giving up hope.”
He drew a finger down her cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, you had something you wanted to show me?”
She led him into the house, paused, and grinned at him.
He narrowed his gaze in a puzzled expression. “What?”
She spread her hands wide. “This.”
“This?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and peered into his green eyes. “Today, it’s mine. All mine.”
She didn’t get the excited response she thought she would, and that made her heart ache. “I thought you would be happy for me.”
He smiled then. “I am happy for you. I was just thinking about the future. Now, we both own houses. If things become…more permanent between us, where will we live?”
His question stunned her, and she temporarily lost the use of her tongue.
He gave a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to spring that on you like that.”
She held up a hand. “No, no. It’s okay.”
Her heart thudded wildly, and she inhaled a deep breath. “It’s…I guess I didn’t think of that yet. I mean, I’ve been so worried that things won’t work out between us, because really, they shouldn’t.”
He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers left a fiery trail as he traced them down the side of her face and neck. “It might be too late for that. Maybe it’s just me, but we seem pretty solid.”
Love bubbled inside her. “We do, don’t we?”
He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips, and she hated fighting reality when he released her.
“I’m not sure what we’ll do.” She lifted her brows. “You wouldn’t want to live here?”
He chuckled. “I’d need Clarabelle’s approval, and I’m not sure she’ll give her blessing.”
He leaned close to her ear making her shiver. “Do you think she knows how to mind her own business and not get in the middle of ours? If you know what I mean.”
She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “I guess that could be a problem.” Still, she wouldn’t mind if it meant she’d have Peter permanently in her life.
She shrugged. “We’ll have to see how it goes, I suppose.”
He nodded, buoying her spirits that he didn’t say no to her house.
She wiped her brow and chuckled. “It’s really hot in here.”
“Let’s go hang out by the water,” he said. “I know an easy way down the slope. You know, in case you twist an ankle or something.”
She narrowed her gaze at his reference to the time when she’d been desperate enough to get his attention by pretending to be hurt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The smile that she couldn’t keep from her lips suggested otherwise.
Twelve
Peter held her hand as they crossed the shady street and then half-walked, half-slid down the slope that led to the happily gurgling stream. Cooler air wafted off the moving water, and that along with the shade dropped the temperature to a more bearable one.
Hazel breathed in the scent of
damp earth and reveled in the transformations that took place before her. Leaves that had fallen the previous autumn lay decaying along the water’s edge, the perfect example of life changing to death and then renewing once again. It was all an amazing dance that every living organism on earth did, whether they recognized it or not.
“I’m going to come over here all the time,” she said. “The energy is amazing.”
Peter’s eyes flashed with happiness. “I hope you’ll let me come with you.”
Her heart flipped. “Of course.”
He tipped his head to the left and tugged her in that direction. “You can follow this trail for miles alongside the river, though it’s a rough path. Eventually, it will lead you to town.”
“I might try that trek one day.”
As it was, they walked until they came upon a large rock resting on the side of the bank. Hazel sat next to Peter, the coolness of the rock seeping through her jeans.
“Let me know when you’re planning to move. I’ll bring my truck. I bet Charlie Rossler would help, too. He’s always looking for work.”
She grinned, loving the way her man took care of her. “Maybe next weekend? I’m going to need a few days to scrub down everything first. No sense hauling clean stuff into a dirty place.”
“True. I’ll plan on it.”
“Thanks. I’ll check with Charlie later today.”
She shifted on the rock so she could see him better. “So…you know I’m dying to ask, anything new on the case?”
He released a sigh that suggested she’d be disappointed with his information. “My guys have been digging deep, but not extremely. The three brides all appear equally guilty, but none terribly so. Not one stands out more than the others.”
“Margaret won’t be happy with that news.”
“Tell me about it. I get a call from her every day asking what we’ve discovered. She made it very clear this morning that she expected better of us. I felt like I’d failed my history test and my mom wasn’t pleased.”
