I wanted to believe that, but I wasn’t sure he was telling the truth. “It doesn’t matter now,” I said. “We’re happy and your mother likes me. Clove is going through this now, and we have to help her.”
“I’ve decided I’m not going to help her,” Thistle said. “I think I’m going to mess with her. That sounds much more fun.”
I narrowed my eyes as I glared at my cousin. “That’s not nice.”
“Did you just meet me? When am I ever nice?”
“You can’t do that, Thistle,” I argued. “It’s not fair to Clove. Why can’t you support her and try to make this easier on her?”
“Because that sounds really boring and I don’t want to do that,” Thistle said. “I want to mess with Clove. That’s always fun.”
Thistle treated messing with Clove as an Olympic event when we were kids. “If you mess with Clove, I’m going to mess with you,” I warned.
Thistle didn’t appear bothered by the threat. “Bring it on.”
AN HOUR later Landon and I were alone in my bedroom, my head resting on his chest as he rubbed idle circles on my back and stared at the ceiling. He took Thistle’s suggestion that we spend some time alone to heart, although he seemed perfectly happy snuggling on the bed instead of engaging in something more vigorous before dinner.
“Were you really that nervous before meeting my mother?” Landon asked, shifting his eyes to me. “Seriously?”
“I seriously thought about hiding in the woods until she left.”
Landon snickered as he kissed my forehead. “Women are crazy,” he said. “I think you like creating drama just for the sake of it sometimes. I don’t see why Clove is so worried about meeting Sam’s family. She’s the easiest one to get along with. She’ll be fine.”
I was pretty sure I’d just been insulted. “She’s the easiest one to get along with?”
“You know what I mean,” Landon said, edging lower on the bed and smirking when I tried to pull away. “She’s sweet and everything nice. You’re a little more difficult.”
I doubled my efforts to escape. “Thanks a lot.”
“I happen to like my women difficult,” Landon said, pressing a soft kiss to my mouth and forcing me to back down from the potential fight. “I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”
Despite myself, the words warmed me. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yup.” Landon nodded his head as he studied my face. “You seem a little pale to me, sweetie. Are you getting sick?”
The observation caught me off guard. After the news that Sam’s parents were going to visit hit, I’d managed to push what happened on the tanker out of my mind. Once Landon voiced his concern, though, the images flooded back.
“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a smile. “I might be a little tired. I don’t sleep very well when you’re not around.”
“Join the club,” Landon said, rolling to his side so he could gather me close. “In fact, I could use a nap. How does that sound?”
“Do you want a real nap or a fake nap?”
“What’s a fake nap?”
“It’s a nap where you pretend you’re falling asleep and then get a case of wandering hands.”
Landon, delighted, barked out a laugh. “I thought we would take a real nap and bolster our strength. We can take a fake nap after dinner.”
“Mom made blueberry pie and is grilling steaks just for you tonight,” I supplied.
“Then we definitely need a nap.” Landon tugged me as close as possible before getting comfortable. “I don’t want you to get sick. I don’t like it when you’re not at a hundred percent. It makes me feel helpless.”
I swallowed hard, his words causing a thick bolt of guilt to course through me. “I’m not sick. I promise.”
“Okay.” Landon kissed my cheek. “Let’s take a nap anyway. We’re going to need our strength for the fake nap later.”
“I can live with that.”
“I figured you were the only other person in the house up to the challenge.”
FOUR
“T hat smells amazing.”
Mom beamed at Landon as we walked across the back patio and headed toward the inn shortly before dinner. She was always happy to see him, even when he ticked her off. She’s a fan of loyalty, and in her book Landon was as loyal as they come.
“It’s good to see you,” Mom said, smirking as Landon leaned over the grill to study the steaks. “It seems like forever since you’ve been here.”
“I was here Tuesday.”
“Yes, but you inhaled your dinner and then you and Bay disappeared to the guesthouse for the rest of the night,” Mom pointed out. “I think you might’ve had indigestion or something.”
Aunt Tillie, who sat on one of the loungers with her aviator sunglasses on, snorted. “The only thing he had was an itch in his pants.”
Landon’s cheeks flushed as he regarded her. He was used to Aunt Tillie’s attitude and hijinks, but occasionally she caught him off guard. Apparently this was one of those times. “I didn’t see you sitting there. I wasn’t aware you could be that quiet.”
“I’m practicing my spy skills,” Aunt Tillie said, rolling her neck. “I’m going to show you how undercover work is really done.”
Landon snorted. “Really?” He looked at her outfit, which consisted of pink cargo pants, purple flip-flops, a wide-brimmed green hat and a shirt that read “I’m here for the Boos,” and merely shook his head. “You can’t wear clothes like that when you’re spying. People will see you coming from a mile away.”
“So what?” Aunt Tillie was clearly in the mood to argue. “They’ll take one look at me and say I stand out so I can’t possibly be undercover. Then they’ll dismiss me right away. When you dress down and try to look like you don’t stand out, that’s when everyone takes notice.”
Landon opened his mouth to argue and instead ran his tongue over his teeth. “I hate to admit it, but you have a point.”
“That’s because I’m the best spy ever,” Aunt Tillie replied. “In fact, I’m such a good spy that I could do it professionally.”
Landon snorted. “Who would hire you, though? Most spies need a healthy respect for authority to move up the ladder.”
“I’m going to start my own spy business,” Aunt Tillie replied, blasé. “I’m going to hire Bay, Clove and Thistle to work for me.”
Landon cast me a sidelong look. “Is that true? Are you going to be a spy?”
This was the first I heard about it, but I had no intention of getting on Aunt Tillie’s bad side tonight. “It might be fun while you’re at work during the week.”
“I don’t know.” Landon tickled my ribs and caused me to giggle. “I don’t think you’d do well under enhanced interrogation techniques.”
I gasped as I slapped his hand away. “I don’t think my interrogators will know my secret tickle spot.”
“They’d better not,” Landon said, wiggling his eyebrows.
We both jolted when a low rumble of thunder growled through the air. The sound was long and drawn out, and loud enough that the patio shook beneath our feet.
“A storm is coming,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at the gathering clouds. “It will be here soon.”
“The steaks are almost done,” Mom said, her eyes flashing with worry as she stared at the sky. “I think we’ll make it just in time.”
“I love storms,” Aunt Tillie said, swinging her legs over the side of the lounger. “That’s another reason I’d make a great spy. I can control the weather. If someone ever catches me – and they won’t, because I’m just like James Bond – I can make it storm and electrocute everyone to get away.”
Landon shook his head as he regarded her. “Are you saying you caused this storm?”
“I’m saying I’m the mightiest witch in the land,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Nothing happens in Hemlock Cove that I don’t want to happen.”
Now she was just making things up, but I had a feeling Landon already knew that.
“Well,
mightiest witch, why don’t you help us get the steaks inside,” Landon suggested, reaching for the platter so he could help Mom. “I’m sure you want a steak, so you should want to help, too.”
“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” Aunt Tillie’s smile was enigmatic. “I do want the steak, but I want you to serve it to me more.”
Landon scowled. “You’re in a mood tonight. I can already tell.”
“I’m always in a mood,” Aunt Tillie said. “Now you simply need to figure out who will benefit from my giving spirit.”
She turned on her heel and flounced toward the door. My stomach sank as I watched her go. “She’s up to something.”
“She’s always up to something,” Landon said, holding the platter steady as Mom piled the steaks on top of it. “As long as she holds off until we’re done with dinner I can put up with whatever she dishes out.”
“Yeah, I’ll etch that on your tombstone if you’re not careful.”
“WOW, it is really coming down out there.”
Marcus shook his blond head as he came into the dining room, rain flying everywhere as if he was a dog shaking himself. Thistle was already seated, but Annie was beside herself when he entered and she hopped up and threw her arms around his neck.
“Marcus!”
Belinda, Annie’s mother, worked for my mother and aunts by helping around the inn. She was staying in the attic room with Annie until she could get on her feet financially. In truth, my entire family would welcome Belinda and Annie for as long as they wanted to stay. Everyone loved Annie, and Belinda was easy to get along with. They already felt part of the family. Belinda eventually wanted her own home, though, and no one would stand in her way when they inevitably moved. In fact, everyone was far more likely to help.
Even though he was dripping, Marcus enthusiastically returned the hug. Annie had a huge crush on him and thought he essentially walked on water. “How is my favorite girl?” Marcus asked, his eyes flashing as he stared at Annie. “Are you excited to start school in a week?”
Annie made a strange growling sound as she released Marcus and let him lower her to the floor. “No. I’m not going to school.”
Belinda sighed as she helped Mom place the steak platter in the middle of the table. “Annie, we’ve talked about this,” she chided. “You’re going to school whether you like it or not.”
“No, I’m not.” Annie stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t need no school.”
“Obviously not,” Belinda said dryly, shaking her head. “You need school. I know you’re going to miss spending so much time with everyone here, but it’s not as if you won’t see them. Everyone will be here when you get out of school, and there’s a lot to learn if you open yourself up to the opportunity.”
“I don’t need no stinking school,” Annie said, her lower lip jutting out. “Aunt Tillie didn’t go to school, and I don’t have to either.”
Landon furrowed his brow as he cast a look at Aunt Tillie. “Did you tell her you didn’t go to school?”
“No, I told her I was smarter than everyone at the school and I should’ve been giving lessons,” Aunt Tillie replied. “There’s a difference.”
“No, that’s not what you said,” Annie protested. “You said that you didn’t need school because it’s just a bunch of people making up stuff that you had to memorize and it’s a complete waste of time.”
Annie was young but she eavesdropped with the best of them. I had a feeling Aunt Tillie didn’t say those words for her benefit. As cantankerous as she is, Aunt Tillie has Annie’s best interests at heart. She always stressed the importance of school when we complained as children about going so I highly doubted she’d attempt to point Annie in another direction.
“When did I say that?” Aunt Tillie challenged.
“When you were telling Marnie why you didn’t want to learn to use a new oven,” Annie replied.
“Oh, well … .” Aunt Tillie looked caught. “You know how I told you to listen to everything I say and then ask me if it applies to you?”
Annie nodded.
“This is one of those times when it doesn’t apply to you,” Aunt Tillie explained. “You have to go to school. You’ll turn out like one of those reality show personalities if you don’t. You won’t have any marketable skills. Do you want to be someone without marketable skills?”
Annie looked confused. “I don’t know. What are marketable skills? Do you have marketable skills?”
Thistle snorted and Aunt Tillie scorched her with a dark look.
“Don’t mess with me, fresh mouth,” she warned Thistle. “You’ll be sorry if you do. I’m talking to Annie. You’re not part of this conversation.”
“Yeah,” I said, smirking when Thistle glared at me.
“No one is talking to you either, fresh mouth number two.” Aunt Tillie licked her lips as she regarded Annie. “As for your question, I have a number of marketable skills. I make my own wine. I learned that in chemistry class. I bag my own … oregano … and I have to weigh it and stuff. I learned that in math class.”
Landon scowled at mention of oregano. Aunt Tillie cultivated her own pot field, but she told Annie it was oregano. It was magically cloaked so Landon couldn’t find it. I had the feeling he would burn it to the ground if he ever did.
“I also like to read,” Aunt Tillie said, ignoring the faces Landon made. “You need schooling to be able to read.”
“I already know how to read,” Annie pointed out. “I read that fairy tale book you gave me and everything.”
Landon stiffened. “Is that the book I think it is?” A few months ago, Aunt Tillie lost her temper and cursed us into the fairy tale book she wrote when we were younger. Landon didn’t enjoy the experience and he’d been looking for the book so he could burn it ever since. Aunt Tillie was one step ahead of him, though, and that bothered him even more.
“I have no idea what book you’re referring to,” Aunt Tillie sniffed. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to educate an impressionable mind. Not everything is about you.”
Landon had the grace to look abashed. “By all means … continue.”
“Thank you,” Aunt Tillie said primly. “Now, Annie, where were we?”
“You were saying that I don’t need school,” Annie answered. “I’m already smarter than everyone in the house … er, well, except for you.”
I rubbed my chin as I stared at Thistle. She looked dumbfounded. Annie was generally congenial and easy to deal with. She’d clearly been spending too much time with Aunt Tillie.
“Who told you that?” Belinda asked, confused. “You’re not smarter than anyone.”
“Aunt Tillie told me.”
Oh. Well, that made sense. I could practically hear those words coming from Aunt Tillie’s mouth. She fancied herself smarter than everyone combined. Because Annie looked up to her, of course she’d drag her along for the ride.
“Okay,” Belinda said, resting her hands on her hips. “I think you and I need to have a talk in the kitchen. Grab your plate. We’re going to eat alone tonight.”
“No way,” Annie shot back. “Marcus is here. I’m his favorite girl. He can’t eat without me. Isn’t that right, Marcus?”
Marcus looked caught as he locked gazes with Belinda. No matter how uncomfortable he was, he would never go against Belinda’s wishes. “I think you should do what your mother says. I only like girls who listen to their mothers.”
The rest of the table – sans the confused-looking guests, of course – snorted at his words. Thistle never did anything her mother Twila asked her to do. It was a point of pride where she was concerned.
“Oh, whatever,” Annie said, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she stood. “I think you’re all just trying to keep me down.” Her eyes landed on Landon. “The Man always tries to keep us down. Isn’t that right, Aunt Tillie?”
Aunt Tillie shifted uncomfortably on her chair. “Um … .”
“Come on right now, Annie,” Belinda order
ed. She was clearly upset. “We’re going to have a long talk about your attitude.”
“Don’t worry,” Mom said. “We’re going to have a long talk with the person influencing her attitude as well. We’ll sort this all out.”
Belinda didn’t look convinced. “That would be nice.”
After Annie and Belinda left the room everyone lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. The guests clearly didn’t know what to think – the Winchester dinner theater was legendary – so they merely waited for us to start the second act. Thankfully, Sam swooped in to save us from saying anything stupid. Er, well, at least he saved us for the time being.
“So, my parents are coming to town Sunday,” he announced. “Because you’ll have some rooms opening up, I was hoping they could stay here. I would pay, of course, but I want them to meet all of you.”
Marnie, Clove’s mother, appeared excited by the prospect. “Your parents are coming? That sounds lovely. I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
“You want them to stay here?” Clove shifted on her chair, uncomfortable. “Do you think that’s a good idea with all of the … you know … stuff that happens?”
“I don’t see why not,” Sam said. “It will only be for a few days. I think it will make things easier on everyone.”
“I think so, too,” Thistle said, her eyes gleaming. “I can’t wait to spend some time with them. I have so many stories from our childhood to relate. It’s going to be amazing.”
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Clove hedged. “I … maybe we should put them up at the Dragonfly or something.”
The Dragonfly was the competing inn owned by our fathers. Even though they’d come to a meeting of the minds, there was still an edge of competition between our mothers and fathers.
“Absolutely not,” Marnie snapped, scorching Clove with a harsh look. “They’re staying here and that’s the end of it.”
“Oh, well, great,” Clove murmured. “I thought things were going to be freaky but now I’m convinced I was totally wrong. Things will be just perfect now.”
Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9 Page 4
