Why couldn’t he have both? The longer Maggie was in Big Knob, the more she seemed to like it here. Between cinnamon rolls and skunks, she seemed to be having a pretty good time.
He was counting on that, because she might be right about losing her job if she went back to Houston empty-handed. With enough good sex, she might not care about losing her job. She might start thinking of relocating to his neck of the woods.
And wouldn’t you know it, right when he had that strategy all mapped out, his hair had gone wacky again. The herbs Dorcas had given him must be activated by daylight. That was the only explanation for why he looked worse this morning than he had last night. No wonder Maggie had run away.
He felt helpless to stop her from getting a lead on the property. Dorcas and Ambrose were his only hope, and they kept saying they couldn’t do anything. Maybe if he built the sex bench he’d promised them, they’d be more cooperative. If he showed that he was holding up his side of the bargain, they might try harder to find a solution for him. He’d have to make another excuse to Calvin Gilmore, though.
While in the kitchen brewing coffee, he glanced at the Big Knob Hardware calendar on the wall and noticed with surprise that it was Saturday. He’d been so preoccupied with events that he’d forgotten what day it was. Calvin wouldn’t expect him to work on Saturday, so he was free to build the sex bench and take it to the Lowells.
After putting on a sweatshirt, he stuck his cell phone in his pocket, poured his coffee and started out to work. He’d barely stepped inside the chilly garage and turned on the space heater when his cell phone rang. Maggie with a change of heart? Adrenaline pumping, he checked the display. Jeremy. Well, that was okay. He needed to talk to Jeremy, anyway.
He flipped open the phone. ‘‘Hey, buddy. I meant to call you and thank you for not fixing Denise’s computer yesterday. I owe you.’’
‘‘You don’t owe me anything. Like I said, if I’d been able to fix it, I would have. Between the hinky electricity in that office and some internal problem I couldn’t figure out, it was DOA.’’
‘‘Then she may be out of luck, huh?’’ Sean tried not to sound too happy about that.
‘‘Not really. I’m hauling my laptop over there. She can run it on batteries for close to four hours, so if the phone line isn’t compromised, she’ll be fine.’’
‘‘Oh.’’ Sean’s black mood descended again.
‘‘But that isn’t why I called. I just heard something that you probably should know about. How’s the medical coverage on your car insurance?’’
‘‘Why?’’ Uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach. ‘‘Is something wrong with Edith Mae?’’
‘‘I hope not, for your sake. I suppose she could have bumped her head on the steering wheel. Anyway, according to Denise, Edith Mae’s gone a little bonkers.’’
‘‘That’s nothing new. She’s always been nuts.’’
‘‘Yeah, but not like this. Claims she got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, looked out her window and saw two people flying overhead on a broomstick.’’
Sean laughed. ‘‘Did she happen to mention how much gin she’d been sipping prior to this broomstick sighting?’’
‘‘I thought of that, too, but Denise doesn’t think that’s it. I guess Edith Mae made an unexpected trip down to the Hob Knob this morning just so she could tell everyone about what she saw. Swore she was sober as a judge last night. Some people are thinking she might have a head injury from yesterday.’’
Sean groaned. ‘‘So where is she now? Still at the Hob Knob?’’
‘‘I’m not sure. You could call over there and find out.’’
‘‘I will. I need to talk to her. Hell, I’ll take her to Doc Pritchard myself if need be. I personally think it’s the gin talking, but I probably shouldn’t assume that.’’
‘‘Probably not. Even though she’s a pain in the butt, she’s our pain in the butt and we all love her.’’
‘‘Right. Thanks, buddy.’’
Five minutes later Sean was on his way into town, driving with the aid of the taped-together glasses. Once again, his eyesight had gone from twenty-twenty to shit, and he couldn’t afford to be running into anything this morning.
He’d learned from Madeline that Edith Mae was still ensconced at a table in the Hob Knob. He’d deal with that situation, and once he had Edith Mae under control, he’d go over to the Lowells’. He wouldn’t have the sex bench in tow, but surely they would see that his life was spinning out of control and something had to be done. Pronto.
As she drove to Madeline and Abe’s house for a shower and a change of clothes, Maggie longed for the anonymity of a hotel room. When you’d spent the night doing something you probably shouldn’t have, there was nothing like melting into an urban crowd to ease the guilt.
Instead she had to face Abe as he opened the front door. She felt like a kid caught out after curfew.
Fortunately, Abe seemed to have bigger fish to fry. ‘‘Hurry up and come in.’’ He pulled her inside and shut the door. ‘‘I’m busy working. Did you get Sean’s signature?’’
‘‘On what?’’ For one wild moment she imagined Sean scrawling his name over her naked body, but that couldn’t be what Abe meant.
‘‘On my petition.’’
The blast of laughter coming from the TV reminded her. He was watching a rerun of Dharma & Greg.
Snatching up his legal pad, he made a note before looking at her again. ‘‘Did you get it?’’
‘‘Not exactly.’’
‘‘What, he wouldn’t sign? I’ll have to talk to him. That’s the problem in this country—public apathy. And what causes public apathy?’’
‘‘Let me guess. Canned laughter.’’
‘‘Bingo!’’ Abe spun toward the TV and made anothernote on his legal pad. ‘‘Wish I could talk, but I need to catch this while it’s available.’’
‘‘Have you ever considered recording these shows, so you could do your research at your leisure?’’
Abe whirled back to her. ‘‘And that’s another thing poisoning the minds of the masses! VCRs, TiVo, video rentals! Nobody has to plan anymore. It’s all handed to them whenever they crook their little finger. I won’t stoop to recording these shows and become part of that mentality.’’
‘‘Oh, okay.’’ Maggie started backing toward the staircase. ‘‘I’ll leave you to your work, then.’’
‘‘Right.’’ Abe scribbled on his pad. ‘‘Somebody has to be the pioneer, so I guess it’s up to me. Next time you see Sean, tell him that if he isn’t part of the solution, then he’s part of the problem.’’
‘‘I will.’’ And she thought truer words had never been spoken.
The advantage to short hair, she quickly learned, was being able to shower and shampoo in no time. She dressed in jeans and a cream-colored sweater and scooted out the door in such record time that she decided to reward herself with a cinnamon roll. She’d order it to go and take it with her to Denise’s office. In fact, she’d buy three so she could share with Denise and Jeremy.
But the minute she stepped into the fragrant interior of the Hob Knob, she realized her mistake. Sean was there, a look of concern on his face as he talked with Edith Mae Hoogstraten. Maggie recognized her as the same woman involved in Sean’s fender bender yesterday. Today she wore a different pillbox hat to match her outfit.
So Sean was still trying to make amends. That was sweet. And damn, he looked good doing it. His hair was behaving again, so maybe he had slept on it wrong, like he’d said. He’d also ditched the glasses, and his green sweatshirt picked up the color of his eyes.
As if he had radar, he glanced up and saw her come through the door. She still might have been able to turn around and leave, except that Madeline bustled over, all smiles.
‘‘Maggie! I’ll bet you’re here to meet Sean for breakfast.’’
‘‘Well, actually, I’m getting some cinnamon rolls to go.’’
Madeline shook her finger at Maggie. �
��‘Now, now. That’s no way to keep yourself healthy, wealthy and wise. Sit down and have a real breakfast. How about a stack of pancakes with lots of butter and syrup? Doesn’t that sound good?’’
If Maggie hadn’t been so focused on avoiding Sean, she might have laughed. Many more meals at the Hob Knob and she wouldn’t be able to zip her jeans. ‘‘I’m in a bit of a hurry,’’ she said. ‘‘And the cinnamon rolls would be quick.’’
‘‘So will the pancakes.’’ Madeline turned toward the kitchen and hollered out the order. ‘‘Sean’s right over there, talking to Edith Mae. Come with me.’’
Arguing with the woman who was giving her a free room didn’t seem like the best idea, so Maggie followed Madeline over to where Sean sat talking with Edith Mae.
‘‘Look who I found!’’ Madeline said.
Sean’s chair scraped on the wood floor as he pushed it back and stood. ‘‘Hi, Maggie.’’
‘‘Hi, Sean.’’ He looked even better up close. Her heart thumped in happy recognition of the pleasure he’d given her only hours ago.
‘‘Who’s this?’’ Edith Mae scrutinized her from head to toe.
‘‘A friend of Sean’s,’’ Madeline said proudly.
‘‘Never seen her before in my life,’’ Edith Mae said. ‘‘Where’ve you been keeping her, boy? In your closet?’’
‘‘She’s a new friend.’’ Sean came around the table and pulled out the empty chair next to Edith Mae. ‘‘Maggie, this is Edith Mae Hoogstraten. Edith Mae, this is Maggie Grady from Houston.’’
‘‘Is that so?’’ Edith Mae gave her another once-over. ‘‘Did you bring any other Texans with you?’’
‘‘No, just me.’’ Maggie had little choice but to take the chair Sean offered. As he scooted her closer to the table, her senses registered warm skin and the scent of soap. The last time she’d smelled that fragrance she’d been in his shower, naked and extremely orgasmic.
Her body had total recall of that moment, and was currently demanding an instant replay.
As if he knew that and was ready to capitalize on it, Sean leaned closer. ‘‘You look great,’’ he murmured.
So did he, but she wasn’t about to say so. ‘‘Thanks.’’
Edith Mae turned to peer at Maggie. ‘‘Are you into witchcraft down there in Houston?’’
‘‘I beg your pardon?’’
‘‘Edith Mae, what you saw last night wasn’t—’’
‘‘Hush, Sean.’’ She waved a hand at him. ‘‘Witch-craft, Maggie. You know, brewing potions and riding on broomsticks. That kind of thing.’’
Maggie glanced at Sean for some signal that this was a joke.
He wasn’t smiling. ‘‘Edith Mae says she saw two people on a broomstick last night. Of course, that’s impossible. I’m trying to convince her to let me take her to see Doc Pritchard for some X-rays. She might have hit her head yesterday and not realized it.’’
‘‘I did not hit my head, and you’re not dragging me in for some procedure I don’t need, young man.’’
‘‘It might be a good idea to get checked out, Mrs. Hoogstraten,’’ Maggie said.
Edith Mae looked her in the eye. ‘‘I’ll thank you not to call me that. My mother-in-law was Mrs. Hoogstraten, and she was hell on wheels. I prefer to go by Edith Mae.’’
‘‘All right, then, Edith Mae.’’ Maggie met her direct gaze. ‘‘Even minor accidents can affect a person. You might have detached a retina or you could have jostled your brain somehow.’’
‘‘My retinas are firmly attached and my brain hums like a top. I saw what I saw. Two people—I think a man and a woman—riding a broomstick across the night sky, just like in The Wizard of Oz.’’
Sean leaned across the table. ‘‘You might have been dreaming. That can happen to anyone. You have a dream and swear you’re awake and it’s real.’’
Edith Mae glared at him. ‘‘In my dreams I never get up to take a pee.’’ Then she turned back to Maggie. ‘‘Since you’re new in town, I thought you might have been one of the people on the broom.’’
‘‘No, it wasn’t me.’’ She almost added that she had an airtight alibi and he was sitting across the table from her, but thought better of it.
‘‘I believe you.’’ Edith Mae pushed away her empty plate. ‘‘Too bad nobody believes me.’’
‘‘It’s not that I don’t believe you,’’ Sean said. ‘‘I’m sure you think you saw something, but there has to be a logical explanation for it.’’
‘‘The logical explanation is that we have a witch, maybe two, in Big Knob.’’ Edith Mae stood and retrieved her purse from where it hung on the back of her chair. ‘‘And I intend to find out who it is.’’
After Edith Mae left, Sean focused on Maggie. For some reason, ever since he went looking for Edith Mae to try and take care of her problem, his eyesight and his haircut had improved. So daylight had nothing to do with the herbs Dorcas had given him. The effect must be completely random.
In any case, he felt more confident that he could distract Maggie from her plan now that he looked more like himself. ‘‘It’s good to see you,’’ he said.
‘‘I only came in for a couple of cinnamon rolls.’’ She glanced up as Madeline approached with a tray.
First Madeline put down a stack of three pancakes with ribbons of creamy yellow butter running from the center and spilling over the sides. Then she set a ceramic pitcher of syrup next to the plate.
‘‘That’s pure maple,’’ she said. ‘‘I heated it up.’’ Last she placed a cup of steaming coffee on the other side of Maggie’s plate. ‘‘Enjoy.’’
‘‘Thank you.’’ Maggie glanced at the pancakes, then looked out the window of the diner, as if checking to see if Denise’s car was parked in front of Big Knob Realty. ‘‘But I really do have to get going.’’
‘‘Just try a bite,’’ Madeline said. ‘‘They’re buttermilk.’’ Then she winked at Sean. ‘‘I notice you aren’t wearing your glasses this morning.’’
‘‘Uh, no.’’ He picked up his coffee mug and took a swig to avoid looking at Madeline. Sure as the world, she thought his eyesight had improved because he was having sex with Maggie instead of going solo.
‘‘Just one bite, then,’’ Maggie said. She poured syrup over the entire stack, though.
Sean had eaten those pancakes before, and he knew they melted in your mouth. Between using so much syrup and loving her comfort food, Maggie would probably eat everything on her plate, which was good news for him. He’d stay and talk to her, maybe convince her to take a drive and look for other locations. He knew some great parking spots out in the woods, woods that had no reputation for being haunted.
Madeline stood by, the serving tray propped against her hip, and waited for Maggie to take that first bite. ‘‘I just know you’ll love those pancakes.’’
‘‘I doubt they can beat the cinnamon rolls.’’ Maggie cut a little wedge out of the pancake stack, ran her fork through it, soaked up a little more of that warm syrup, and put the fork in her mouth. Then she closed her eyes and moaned with delight.
Sean clutched his coffee mug tighter as desire rolled through him, leaving him shaking in the aftermath. He had a bad case of the hots for this woman, and he wondered if that would ever happen again with someone else. He hated to think it was Maggie or nobody, because he wasn’t the least bit certain he could have her.
‘‘Good, aren’t they?’’ Madeline beamed at the two of them.
Maggie swallowed and cut another wedge out of her stack. ‘‘They’re fantastic. Light as a feather.’’
Madeline nodded. ‘‘It’s because Sherry beats the egg whites separate. And getting the butter and milk fresh from the Big Knob Dairy makes a difference, too. Stay right there, Sean. I’ll get you a fresh cup of coffee.’’
As if he had any intention of leaving. Watching Maggie eat was almost as exciting as having sex with her. He’d never known a woman who practically made love to her food.
Once Madeli
ne left, Maggie glanced at Sean. ‘‘I shouldn’t be having these, but they are sinfully good.’’
‘‘I’m guessing they don’t make pancakes like this in Houston.’’
‘‘Not at any place I’ve found.’’
He wanted to reach across the table and touch her hand, but he didn’t dare in front of all the people in the Hob Knob. Rumors were probably flying already, without having him add more fuel to the fire.
‘‘Maggie, I hate that you felt you had to run out this morning.’’
She paused in the middle of cutting another bite of pancake. ‘‘If I hadn’t, I might never have left.’’
That encouraged him. ‘‘So you had a good time?’’
‘‘Too good.’’ She finished slicing off her next bite and swirled it in a puddle of syrup. ‘‘But I’m determined not to let that derail me.’’
‘‘Let me show you some other locations today. We’ll take a drive and—’’
‘‘No way. You’ll try to seduce me somewhere out in the woods.’’
‘‘No, I won’t. I swear.’’
She glanced up, syrup dripping from her fork. ‘‘Yes, you will.’’ She popped the bite into her mouth.
‘‘Maggie, we wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want to do. I promise.’’
She finished chewing and swallowed. ‘‘That’s the problem. I would want to. Once you had me in your truck, I’d be thinking about sex instead of my job.’’
He was thinking of sex right this minute and trying to figure out how to get her alone. He ached for her in a way that he had never ached for anyone before. It was almost like coming down with a disease.
Taking a sip of her coffee, she studied him over the rim of her coffee mug. ‘‘Your hair is going funky again.’’
This time he could feel it happening, a prickling in his scalp. What was worse, her features were growing blurry. Muttering an oath under his breath, he stood. ‘‘Excuse me, but I just remembered that I have to be somewhere.’’
Madeline tried to stop him on the way out. ‘‘What about your coffee?’’
‘‘I need to see someone. It’s urgent. Very urgent.’’
Over Hexed Page 22
