Rub My Pumpkin

by Linda Mooney

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Rub My Pumpkin

  (Tales of the Blakeney Sisters, Book 1)

  by

  Carolyn Gregg

  RUB MY PUMPKIN

  Copyright © 2010 by Linda Mooney

  ISBN 978-1-94132-25-6

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Cover Art: Linda Mooney

  Chapter One

  “Man, if this ain't a dog town, nothing is! Don't you think so, Rick?”

  It rarely happened, but Rick had to admit that this time maybe Booey was right. Toppers Cove didn't appear to be any different than any other small New England town they'd passed through on their way here. Like most coastal settlements, it was a small fishing village, but its one saving grace was that it also boasted a large processing plant. It was at that plant where he and his friend had snagged jobs.

  Welcome to Toppers Cove. Established 1640.

  Rick stared at the sign as they passed it. It was quaint looking and framed in one of those gingerbread-type braces, but freshly re-painted, as if the local chamber of commerce had made it a high-priority item of their list of town improvements.

  A hard punch to the arm got his attention. He cast an irritated look at the driver. “What?”

  “Listen up when I'm talking to you,” Booey griped.

  “Booey, you never shut up.”

  “That's 'cause everything I say is important. Don't you agree this is a dog town? I bet their idea of excitement is counting the patterns on the wallpaper.”

  “What were you expecting?” Rick asked his childhood friend. “Not every place can be like Chicago.”

  Booey made a face. “I bet they even put anchovies on their pizza here.”

  Rick was about to remark on the fact that Booey could request no anchovies, when a dark-haired woman stepped out of a building and onto the boardwalk that lined both sides of the two-lane street. She glanced their way as she checked for traffic, and he was immediately struck by her beauty. That, and the long black hair flowing over her shoulders.

  He remained riveted on her face as they drove by, turning his head to follow her. For the briefest moment their eyes met, and he thought he saw pain in their dark depths. One instant, and it was gone. Quickly, he turned around in his seat to try and see which way she went. Unfortunately, Booey turned down a side street, and the woman in the pale blue patterned dress who had remained standing on the boardwalk, watching them go by, was lost to sight. Irritated, Rick snorted.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he responded curtly.

  Booey tisked. “Must've been a female for you to act like that. Was she pretty?”

  “Gorgeous.”

  “Blonde?”

  “Black hair.”

  Booey gave him a wide-eyed look of disbelief. “Black hair? No kidding?”

  “No kidding.” Rick gave the rearview mirror another glance, on the off chance he might spot the woman again, but it wasn't to be.

  “Huh.” The man scratched his two-day-old growth. “That has to be a new one for your books. I don't think you've ever shown interest in a raven-haired beauty before. Did she have a rack?”

  “I don't know. I wasn't concentrating on that area.”

  Booey gave a little hoot. “You didn't notice her rack? Boy, she must've been a stunner. Oops. Heads up. We're here.”

  The processing plant was enormous aluminum-sided structure located at the end of the road. It was built on top of a system of piers and beams, right over the water, where fishermen could motor right into the receiving dock to unload their catch. A faded Toppers Seafood sign graced the side of the building, and a smaller notice below it read “Employee Parking Only. All other landlubbers will be keel-hauled.”

  Booey pulled into the parking lot, and Rick slowly climbed out of the little vehicle. Muscles cracked loudly as he stretched after hours spent on the road.

  “Doesn't look like much, does it?”

  Rick frowned. “I don't care what it looks like as long as they offer a paycheck.” He tucked his t-shirt into his pants and buttoned up the short-sleeved dress shirt he wore over it. He heard Booey snort as he combed his hair with his fingers.

  “It's a freaking job cleaning fish, amigo. You're not here to pose for a magazine cover.”

  Rick shrugged off the guy's smart-ass remark. He was used to Booey's insensitive comments, although he had to admit that the last five hundred miles of listening to the guy's inane chatter had nearly driven him ape-shit crazy.

  They walked across the cracked macadam, toward the single unmarked door. A cold, brisk breeze came off the water, filled with the scent of salt and fish. Rick breathed it in, and for the first time in a long time he realized he had a pretty good feeling about this job.

  A cute young thing with a blonde ponytail was sitting behind a weathered desk a few feet beyond the doorway. She glanced up and smiled around her gum.

  “Hi! Can I help you?”

  Rick nodded. “Yeah. My name's Rick Carr.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “This is Brad Nelliman. We're here to see Mr. Abrams.”

  “Oh, you must be the new guys he's expecting! Sure thing. Hold on.” She leaned over to press down on an old-fashioned PA microphone. “Hey, Angus, you're needed up front. Those men are here.” Her voice echoed in the distance, amplified by the natural acoustics of the heavy aluminum sheeting covering the sides of the building. It wasn't long before they heard the heavy tread of someone walking toward them. Rick looked up to see a grizzled old man coming their way.

  His beard was completely gray, but his hair still retained most of its dark brown color. His face was lined and creased, yet Rick could see shrewd intelligence in the man's brown eyes. He stuck out his hand first to introduce himself.

  “Rick Carr.”

  Abrams shook hands as he gave Rick a good once-over. He did the same with Booey. “So you're the two new hands from Chicago, are you?”

  “Actually, we're from Evanston, which is a suburb of Chicago,” Booey corrected. Rick rolled his eyes as his friend went on about how the job market sucked in Evanston, not to mention the pollution and the crime rate. His irritation was not lost on Abrams.

  “What made you decide to come to Toppers Cove?” the old man interrupted. It became quickly obvious the guy had no patience for Booey's prattling.

  “I was born and raised in Portland,” Rick explained. “My mom and I moved to Evanston when I was eleven, but I've always wanted to come back to the east coast.”

  “Ah. Got sea water in your veins, eh?” Abrams gave him a wink, then nodded in Booey's direction. “How about him?”

  “Born and bred in Illinois,” Booey proudly replied.

  “Yeah, well, guess God didn't ex
pect all of us to be so blessed.” He turned to go back into the factory, giving them a wave to follow. “Unless you plan to stand there all day, let me show you what you're expected to do.”

  “What about getting something to eat first? I'm hungry,” Booey hissed to his friend.

  “We can eat later,” Rick whispered back. “Or don't you think it's important we try to make a good impression first?”

  Booey grudgingly agreed. With the current job market the way it was, any employment was welcome, even if it was in a processing plant in a tiny town on the Eastern coast.

  Chapter Two

  “Kimmy? Oooooh, Kiiiiiiimmy!”

  A face hovered in her field of vision, bringing her out of her daydream. The face laughed when it noticed it got her attention.

  “Kimmy's got that look on her face,” Penny announced triumphantly.

  “I don't doubt it,” Amy came to her defense. “After all, it's her time of the year.”

  Kimberly looked over where the youngest Blakeney sister was peeling potatoes. At the same time, Sandy tapped her on the shoulder as she went to fetch the plates to set the table for dinner. “So who is he?” she asked.

  “I don't know.”

  “Is he a local?” Amy inquired.

  “No.” Kimberly shook her head. “The car had out of state plates.”

  “Whoo-hoo! New guy!” Tammy announced. “That should prove interesting.”

  “It only means he hasn't heard the stories about us,” Penny said.

  “Not yet,” Amy interjected, setting the pot of beans on the table. “Sooo, tell us what you know.”

  Kimberly shrugged. “Not much.”

  “Is he cute?”

  The smile came to her face before she could help it. “Yeah.”

  “Blond, brunette, or what?”

  “He has brownish hair. And green eyes.”

  “Bet he's got the bod to go with them,” Tammy said, earning a titter of laughter from the other three sisters.

  “I wouldn't know,” Kimberly said. “They turned to go to the plant.”

  “They? There's more than one of them?” Sandy practically pounced on the revelation.

  “Maybe we need to go into town and check them out,” Tammy suggested.

  “Not until after dinner,” a firm male voice spoke out.

  Kimberly looked up to see their father stride into the room. As usual, his coveralls were coated in dirt and grime, but he had washed his face and hands before coming to the table. His jet black hair glistened where he'd used his wet fingers to comb it back from his forehead.

  The barrel-chested man sat down at the head of the table where his daughters joined him. He waited for everyone to began passing around the dishes before commenting. “What's this about wanting to go into town?” His voice rumbled like thunder. Manderly Blakeney was an imposing figure, even in a pair of filthy overalls.

  Like her sisters, Kimberly gave their parent a loving smile. His black-eyed gaze immediately locked onto her, just as she knew it would.

  “I felt my heart calling,” she told him.

  The man would neither deny her, nor deride her. Neither would he question the validity of her comment. Blakeney women didn't take the heart call lightly, and he knew she wouldn't make the claim unless she felt it was the real deal...except for the fact that...

  “This is the third time you've said that,” Tammy pointed out, in case anyone had forgotten. Kimberly shot her a dirty look, but Sandy was quick to defend her twin sibling.

  “We're half witches,” she also pointed out. “We can't be as certain as Daddy was when he met Mom.”

  Kimberly opened her mouth to back her sister when Manderly rumbled, “The heart call is only the first part. The hex will determine whether or not you will love unconditionally.” Giving Kimberly a conspicuous wink, he added, “The hex has never let you down.”

  “Thank goodness for that!” Amy crowed, and lifted her glass.

  “Hear, hear!” the other girls responded, also raising their glasses in agreement.

  They proceeded to eat dinner, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Momentarily free from any further teasing, Kimberly allowed herself to drift back to those scant seconds that she now believed had changed her life.

  As Tammy had said, this was her third time to feel what her kind called the heart call. When her body had gone stiff at the sight of the young man in the battered brown car. When his green eyes had met hers, and the world had shuddered to a complete stop until the car turned the corner, and visual contact was broken.

  She'd continued to move automatically toward the hardware store to finish her errands, but her body no longer felt connected. Her heart continued to beat, but the blood had somehow turned into sludge, and was oozing sluggishly through her veins.

  Yes, this was her third time in as many years to feel the heart call, but this time it felt different. It felt purer, and deeper. More importantly, it felt real.

  If this was the actual call, if this time was meant to be the one, then she knew she would see the stranger with the soul-deep gaze again. And soon. Very soon. Because as hard as she was called, he would be feeling the same tug, and he would start looking for her.

  And where do visitors go when they first hit the small town?

  “Where do you girls think you'll be heading tonight?” their patriarch inquired, as if he wasn't already aware.

  “Sebastian's,” Kimberly answered, and her sisters cheered.

  “Bare bellies and beer!” Tammy crowed, earning her another round of cheers.

  The rest of dinner was unusually quiet as they quickly finished their meal and cleaned up the kitchen. Once that was done, they changed clothes, and everyone piled into the ancient Volkswagen van to head into town. Everyone except for Dad.

  “You sure you don't want to come along?” Kimberly asked him, peeking around the doorway.

  Her father glanced up from the huge earthenware bowl on the kitchen table. Surrounding it were several glass apothecary jars, a few of them containing substances which she didn't recognized, and the mortar and pestle. “No. I need to work on a potion to get rid of some vine borers that have started attacking my squash. You go on ahead. Listen, I hope this is the real thing for you, sweetheart, and you find your young man.” His smile was warm and genuine. He understood what she was feeling.

  “Well, don't let those pesky insects get you down, Daddy. We'll be home before midnight.”

  He nodded, his attention re-centered on measuring out ingredients.

  Smiling, Kimberly skipped out the door where the girls were waiting for her.

  Chapter Three

  Rick threw his duffle onto his bed as Booey did the same. It was late, and they were both tired and hungry, but at least he knew he could walk into the plant tomorrow morning with a clear idea of what his new job entailed.

  “How did you find out about this place, anyway?” Booey griped.

  “A friend of a friend of a friend,” he replied. “So it's not the Ritz. I like it.”

  “It's a dump.”

  “It feels like home.”

  “I feel sorry for you,” his friend groused.

  “Well, it's gonna have to do until we get paid and can get an apartment.”

  “That'll probably be a dump, too.”

  Arguing with Booey was always a no-win situation, so Rick dropped it. He looked around at the worn but comfortable-looking furniture. The wallpaper had sailing vessels on it, and there was even a barometer hanging on the wall between the two windows. “It reminds me of growing up on the east coast,” he said. “I bet the windows open up to the sea.”

  Walking over to the nearest one, he pushed aside the white lace curtain and stared out. As he'd expected, their room looked out over the front of the inn. In fact, he could see the sign reading Crow’s Nest Inn down below. In the distance he could see the waters of the bay. Still further out, the blinking light of a lighthouse caught his attention. “Hey, Booey, I see a lighthouse! We'll need to check
it out sometime.”

  “Lighthouse, schmite-house. I'm dead dog tired, and I'm starved, to boot. When are we gonna try to find a place to eat around here?”

  “Let me take a pee first, and then we can walk back into town.”

  “Aww, man. I bet nothing's open this late!”

  Rick glanced at his watch. “It's not even seven. There has to at least be a bar open that serves sandwiches or pizza.”

  “That guy at work, what was his name? Bill something.”

  “Bill Caffey?”

  “Yeah. That guy. He mentioned some place called Sebastian's. Said it wasn't far from this place. How 'bout checking it out?”

  “I'm up,” Rick agreed, heading first for the bathroom.

  Once the sun had gone down, the temperature had dropped. They decided to walk the couple of blocks to the pizza parlor after grabbing their jackets from the car.

  The cold felt invigorating. This late in the day, traffic was practically nonexistent. “Guess this place really does roll up the sidewalks at closing time,” Booey remarked. It was one of the few times Rick had to agree with him.

  They found the parlor with no problem. It wasn't hard to spot with the moving neon lights spelling out the establishment's name, and the number of cars parked up and down the street.

  The place was noisy, but a comfortable noisy. The smell of pizza hit them the moment they opened the door. Halloween decorations hung from the light fixtures and above the bar, while old movie posters of The Wolfman, Frankenstein, and The Creature From the Black Lagoon adorned the walls. Aerosmith was on the jukebox, but the music didn't drown out the laughter and conversation.

  A passing waitress bearing a tray of long necks took their drink order and told them to seat themselves. Rick confiscated an empty booth that still bore refuse from its last patrons. Another waitress dropped off their drinks and cleared the table before taking their order. Rick settled for a large pepperoni and sausage pizza while Booey checked out the females.