The Affairs of Witches

by Paula Lester

  The Affairs of Witches

  Superior Bay Witch Doctor Mysteries

  Paula Lester

  Published by Paula Lester, 2020.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About Paula Lester

  Copyright Notice

  THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  The Affairs of Witches

  First edition. December 16, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Paula Lester

  Written by Paula Lester

  Cover Design by Mariah Sinclair

  Chapter 1

  “OKAY, SUSIE. YOU’RE almost there. Just one more big push.” I tried to keep my voice cheerful, as though I knew this was the last push the exhausted mother sheep would have to do. But the truth was I wasn’t sure. There were twin lambs coming, and they’d gotten kind of tangled up together inside. It was like a puzzle, figuring out which hoof belonged to whom.

  I’d done what I could to get them spun around and separated, and I was hoping it wasn’t too late. Susie had been in labor for fourteen hours, and she was getting too tired to push anymore. This might be our last chance to deliver healthy twins.

  Susie turned her head and looked at me. Her sweet eyes were heavily lidded. She said nothing, but her expression spoke volumes. She understood where we were in this situation too. She let her head fall back against my aunt’s shoulder. Poor Aunt Dru had been sitting in the straw supporting Susie’s head and stroking her face and neck for hours. How could she stay in that position for so long? My joints were howling at me, and I was half her age and not stuck in one spot like she was.

  “It’s okay, Susie. If they don’t come this time, I’ll do a C-section. Everything will be okay.” Of course, that wasn’t quite 100% true. I hadn’t done a sheep C-section before, and the conditions, with Susie already being tired and us in the barn on the farm, weren’t ideal. But the sheep didn’t know that.

  I saw Susie’s abdominal muscles tense as she put all her energy into giving one huge, last push. I held my breath and focused as hard as I could on Susie, drawing a bit on my magic. It felt sort of like dipping into a river but metaphorically—in my mind.

  Since the Superior Bay Dog Show in early summer, when my three best friends had discovered I was a witch, I’d finally buckled down and focused on learning more about my magic from Aunt Dru. She was thrilled about the speed at which I was making progress, and I was too. I often thought about how I should have let her teach me a long time ago.

  I breathed out of my mouth and let go of the rivulet of magic, directing it toward the sheep’s abdomen and giving her push a little extra oomph. Now that I’d untangled the babies, I was hoping it would be enough to resolve the situation.

  It turned out it was. Just like that, a tiny black lamb was in my hands. I set him in the clean straw, and Aunt Dru started drying him with a handful of straw. I turned back just in time to catch his sister. She was almost completely white, with a black spot in the center of her forehead.

  Aunt Dru cheered and hugged Susie’s head. The sheep panted and all her muscles relaxed except those around her eyes as she strained to see her babies. Quickly, I moved both lambs around to snuggle their mother, who sank to the straw to lie with them. She licked the twins with vigor. Within moments, all three sheep were sitting up, appearing alert and healthy.

  “Oh, here you are. Morning, ladies.”

  I swiveled my neck to see Dr. Jeremy Miller in the barn’s open doorway. He looked good in his jeans and sweater, guarding against the chill of early fall.

  “Here we are,” I agreed, waving a hand around. “Glamour is our middle name.”

  His eyes followed my gesture, and he grinned. “My kinda’ elegance.” He jerked his chin toward the sheep “What have you got there?”

  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face when I looked at Susie and her lambs. “Newcomers.” I got to my feet and then offered Aunt Dru a hand. Sure enough, she was as spry as I was rising from the floor.

  I should really join her at the yoga classes she attended every other day. Then, perhaps I’d have a chance of being just as flexible when I was her age. Or, like, at my current age.

  “I’ll stay and keep an eye on these three for a while. I’ll see if I can coax Susie to eat something.” She turned to the sheep. “You’ll need to get your milk production up, girlie.”

  Susie baa’d in agreement.

  I arched my back to stretch it, peeled off my gloves and tossed them into the trash, then washed my hands at the small sink in the corner. Then I made my way outside with Jeremy. I stopped and breathed in deeply. The air was a touch on the crisp side, and the mature oaks and maples on our property had just begun to show the first hints of changing color. I loved fall, but there was always the twinge it brought with it too. Winter would come soon, and in Superior Bay in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, that season was long, cold, and difficult.

  Juliet bounded over to me, and I gave the border collie’s ears a ruffle. “They’re fine,” I told the dog, drawing a raised eyebrow from Jeremy. I shrugged. “Her flock is important to her. She’d want to know how Susie and her lambs are doing.”

  What Jeremy didn’t know was I wasn’t just guessing on that. I knew it for a fact because I could understand Juliet just like I could Susie.

  “You want some coffee?” I started toward the big farmhouse, shabby chic with its fading turquoise paint and huge wrap-around porch.

  He shook his head. “I have to get going. But I wanted to stop in and make sure you didn’t need my help with your sheep.”

  That’s right. When I’d left the clinic the evening before, I’d mentioned Aunt Dru had called to tell me Susie was in labor. “How sweet of you. Thanks.”

  “Yeah, of course.” He stopped walking.

  I couldn’t very well keep moving forward when my companion had stopped. But I glanced wistfully toward the house where the coffeepot was sitting inside, idle, waiting for me to fire it up so it could produce some steaming liquid lifeblood. I rubbed dirty hands on my filthy jeans, thinking how blissful it would be to jump in the shower while my coffee brewed. I fought back the disappointed sigh and faced Jeremy with a smile.

  “I know we’ve been down this road before. Well, not really, but we turned onto the road once. It was a bumpy road, and we weren’t ready for it, so we turned back and headed for a nicely paved street.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I sound like an idiot.”

  I laughed. “No, you don’t. But I will say that I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

  His grin was so adorable that I forgot about coffee for a minute. And that was saying something.

  “I’m talking about how I asked you out on a date at the beginning of the summer, and you said you had to think about it.” His gaze jumped around as he avoided eye contact. “I’ve been telling myself you haven’t mentioned it again because the answer is no, but even though I have a doctorate degree, I can be a slow learner, a glutton for punishment, and just plain dense.” Finally, his gaze met mine. “So, I’m stupidly here to ask you again. Would you like to
go to dinner with me?”

  Something rubbed against my leg, and I reached down to pet my border collie’s silky soft forehead. Juliet must have felt my nerves shoot up into the stratosphere and came over to give me some moral support. “Um.” Great, Willow. Awesome. You sound so put-together and brilliant. My mind raced as I tried to figure out a non-ridiculous thing to say.

  Several choices went through my thoughts at once as I stood locked in Jeremy’s gaze, my mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish, which I was sure was super attractive.

  I thought about whether dating Jeremy would harm my business. I owned Superior Bay’s only veterinary clinic, and he was my employee. If people in our small town didn’t think it was ethical for us to be dating, I may lose valuable clients.

  Then, something really odd skittered across the movie screen in my head. An image of my best friend, Crosby Patterson. We’d known each other since we were kids. But at the beginning of the summer, Aunt Dru had hinted that she thought Crosby had romantic feelings for me. I wasn’t able to confirm or deny that with my independent investigations, which mainly included over-analyzing every interaction I’d ever had with Crosby, as though I’d somehow reverted to a middle school mindset overnight.

  Well, one thing was for sure, anyway. The current silence in my driveway was stretching into awkward territory. “Yes. I’d love to go with you. Thank you for asking again. I’m sorry I let it go so long without getting back to you.”

  Jeremy blew out a breath, as though he’d been holding it, and smiled widely. In fact, his expression brightened so much I was glad I’d agreed to go. “Awesome. How about tonight, since we’re both off? We can go to Red River for dinner. Maybe that will give us a little buffer from most of our clients’ prying eyes. You know, so we can enjoy the evening.”

  His suggestion relieved me. Red River was the next town over from Superior Bay. And gossip flowed easily between the two towns. But going there would slow down the grapevine’s workings a smidge over us staging our date in Superior Bay. “That sounds great.”

  “Okay. So . . . okay. Perfect. It’s a date. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  I nodded and watched him head toward his car. After I’d waved him down the driveway, I kneeled to give Juliet a hug.

  “That was quite the hesitation.” Aunt Dru arrived next to me, looking down the driveway toward where Jeremy had disappeared. “What’s up?”

  I glanced up at my aunt, who had a knowing expression on her face. She’d raised me since my parents had disappeared when I was three. And to say the two of us were close would be a big understatement. We were super-bonded. Incredibly tight. Peanut butter and jelly type stuff in the world of relationships.

  Most of the time, that was wonderful. She was my sounding board and my moral compass, and I was her joy and connection to her younger years. Or something like that. But at that moment, our close connection wasn’t doing me any favors. I could almost feel her reading my mind and yanking out the image of Crosby sitting in there mocking me.

  I straightened and shrugged. “Nothing.”

  She raised her eyebrows and patted the loose bun at the back of her neck. “Hmm.”

  And there it was—the power of the woman who’d raised me. A simple look and a well-placed hmm, and I was ready to spill my guts—tell her all about the misgivings, strange insecurities, and weird feelings surrounding one of my childhood best friends.

  But before I could, the crunch of gravel saved me. We both looked up to see Crosby’s beat-up old pickup truck creeping up the driveway. He parked and climbed out, giving us a little wave.

  Aunt Dru shot me a look that clearly shelved our conversation, letting me know it wasn’t permanently finished, and then waved back at Crosby. “Hello, dear! How are you?”

  “Just fine.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m here to work on that porch swing you said is broken.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She beamed at him. “You’re such a good boy. You know where the tools are. Have at it. I’m making some tea.”

  “Can you put on a pot of coffee too?” I called as she moved toward the house. She nodded and waved over her shoulder.

  “You haven’t had your coffee yet?” Crosby glanced at his watch as he started toward the toolshed behind the barn. “That’s not like you.”

  “I just delivered twin lambs.” I rubbed my eyes. The early wake-up and all the hard physical and emotional work of the morning suddenly seemed to settle on my shoulders, making them feel heavy.

  Crosby snuck a sidelong glance at me. “Can you understand them too? The sheep, I mean.” His voice was tenuous. Thin.

  At the beginning of the summer, Crosby and our other two best friends, Julia Jones and Alyson Crane, had caught me doing magic. While my girlfriends had seemed to take it in stride with little trouble, Crosby had struggled with it. He’d made it known he felt betrayed that I’d kept being a witch a secret from him for almost thirty years.

  Of course, things had gone back to some semblance of normal between us—we hung out with Aly and Julia at the Landing, just like we always did. He teased me and gave me the heart-stopping dimpled grin I knew so well. But there was still a strange, foreign undercurrent between us I didn’t know how to fix.

  And sometimes he left gatherings early, and my gut twisted as I wondered if it was because he wanted to get away from me.

  “Yes.” I tried to force the word to sound cheerful and normal but didn’t think I managed it. “I haven’t met an animal species I can’t understand yet.”

  He nodded and increased his pace. Was he trying to put physical distance between us to match the emotional space I felt lurked there?

  When Crosby got to the toolshed, he popped in for a minute and then reappeared with my dad’s old toolbox. We approached the swing, and he nudged it gently then stood back to watch what it did. “I think I see the problem.”

  Crosby rummaged around in the toolbox and pulled out a wrench, stretching up to adjust a bolt where one of the swing’s chains met the wooden beam.

  I admired his frame as he dealt with the swing’s frame. His job on the Superior Bay police force required him to stay in shape, but Crosby had always been fit. I needed to take a page from his book and get on a regular exercise routine. And maybe skip the baked goods my friend Julia made at Stroves’ Bakery.

  As Crosby worked, I wracked my brain, trying to come up with something to say that might ease things between us. But, as always, I came up empty, and it was less than five minutes before he closed the toolbox. “That’ll do it. Good as new.”

  “Wow. Thanks. Aunt Dru loves to sit here and read in the evening.” I followed him back to the tool shed. “I keep telling her we should put the swing on the porch, but she enjoys having this view of the back forty.”

  Crosby nodded and scanned the surrounding area. “I don’t blame her. The view from the porch is fantastic, but seeing the forest is really calming.”

  “Would you like to come in for some coffee or breakfast or something?” I asked as we rounded the house.

  Disappointment rolled over me when he shook his head. “I have to work in a couple of hours, and I need to get home and change and do a few chores first. But thanks for the invitation.”

  I waved a hand absently. “It’s a standing one. You know that.” I watched him get into the pickup and leave, and my thoughts turned to how I wanted to spend the rest of my Sunday. I considered going into Red River for some shopping but dismissed the idea. I didn’t want to be too far from Susie and her lambs for the first twenty-four hours.

  “Your coffee’s ready, honey!” Aunt Dru called from the porch.

  “Yes! Caffeine!” I gave a little fist pump of victory at the thought of finally getting some good stuff into my system.

  But before I’d made it to the base of the steps, the crunch of tires on gravel sounded again. “Wow. We’re popular this morning.” I laughed and turned to see who the new visitor was.

  Two identical, huge black Cadillacs pulled in. I didn’t reco
gnize them. Two men, dressed in gray from head to toe, got out of one of the cars, and a man who could be their triplet got out of the second. What, did these guys just put three of every outfit into their online cart and check out to save the time of choosing different colors?

  I glanced at Aunt Dru. The line between her eyes deepened as a frown appeared on her face.

  A flutter of trepidation danced its way through my belly at the sight of my aunt’s troubled expression.

  The three men each opened a car door, and three women stepped out of the Cadillacs onto the gravel. Age-wise, they looked like they could be a grandmother with her daughter and granddaughter, but there didn’t seem to be a familial resemblance between them.

  The oldest woman had short, spikey gray hair and a pleasantly plump figure, reinforcing grandma in my mind. She wore a flowing silver dress and a ruby red scarf. The lady held up her chin, and even though she only looked to be around five feet three inches tall, it was fairly obvious she was the most important of the six people suddenly filling my driveway.

  The middle-aged woman had curly auburn hair that fell to her waist. She wore dark sunglasses and a navy-blue pantsuit. She reached out a hand to the youngest of the women, an adorable blonde with shoulder-length hair and striking green eyes, visible even from my spot ten feet or more away. It was as though those eyes were back-lit by a strange glow. The younger woman beamed and bounced when she walked.

  I glanced at my aunt again. She frowned even harder, crossed her arms, and squeezed, as though she needed a hug and only had herself to deliver one.

  The oldest of the three women peered at me for a moment. Then her eyes darted up to the porch. “Hello, Druida Fairtree,” she called, her voice croaky like a frog’s.

  “Hello, Marian.”

  Aunt Dru knew these people? Had she known they were coming? Who on Earth were they? I tried to catch my aunt’s eye, but it was as though she were avoiding looking at me. She kept her gaze firmly on Marian. “What brings the Trio to my doorstep?”