Mountain Charm (7 page)

Dylan was confused. “So, if her remedies weren’t magical, how do you know the sisters were actually witches?”

“The sisters all had special talents. Gifts. And those gifts were passed down from generation to generation. Some of the daughters have been telepathic. All of them are beautiful. Celia’s mother was rumored to have the ability to predict the weather. She was quite popular with the farmers.”

It all sounded ridiculous to him, except for the fact they were all beautiful. If Angelina were any indication, the gene pool had to have been breathtaking.

“What about Celia and Angelina? What are their gifts?”

Shirley grinned. “I’m afraid that’s their story to tell.”

Dylan frowned. He’d only been in Maple Ridge for a few days, but he’d learned very quickly that, while the townsfolk were more than happy to gossip about the witches of the past, none of them were eager to talk about Angelina and her mother.

After leaving the library, Dylan found himself walking toward the music store. His body was drawn like a magnet to the place, but he couldn’t seem to control it. He wanted to be near her all the time. It was the strangest feeling, being this attracted to a woman he barely knew.

But he was getting to know her.

And he liked her.

He could admit that much to himself. Yes, Angelina was gorgeous, but it was more than just her blue eyes and soft skin. He didn’t see it often—because he pissed her off on a daily basis—but he knew she was sweet and kind. She loved her mother, her music store, and her dog, and she loved them passionately.

Was she a witch?

He had no idea.

But he couldn’t wait to find out.

“Angelina likes to pretend she doesn’t believe in magic, but we’ve been friends a long time, and I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“What have you seen?” Dylan asked.

Angelina shook her head and continued dusting the fiddles along the back wall. She’d given Dylan permission to talk to anyone in town who’d willingly answer his questions. In exchange, he’d promised to limit his research into her father’s death and Celia’s illness. The people of Maple Ridge—especially the older folks—told the stories better than Angelina ever could and would be able to give him the basic information he needed for his article. Foolishly, she’d assumed Dylan would seek out the old men down at the diner or maybe flirt with Ms. Henry down at the library.

She should have known he’d want to interview the most curious—and most talkative—one of all.

“Well,” Maddie said as she hopped up on the counter, “did you know Angelina’s great-great-great grandmother was a witch doctor?”

He nodded. “Abigail Rose. Her name keeps popping up in my research.”

“The woman was a miracle worker,” Maddie replied, her voice full of reverence for her friend’s ancestor. “She delivered babies, healed the sick, cured diseases . . .”

“From what I’ve read, though, most of the healing was done with herbs.”

Angelina smiled. He really had been doing his research.

“But it isn’t
all
done with herbs,” Maddie said quietly, and Angelina stiffened, because her best friend was about to reveal something very personal. “When we were in elementary school, four of us were playing basketball in the school gym. Billy Ross was dribbling toward the goal when he tripped over his own feet and broke his wrist. The kid was screaming in agony, and my best friend—my beautiful and gifted best friend—placed her hand on his wrist.
Just her hand.
The bone was healed, and Billy was back on his feet before the gym teacher could even make it across the court with a first-aid kit.”

Angelina could feel Dylan’s eyes on her as she stepped off the ladder. Out of all the stories Maddie could’ve shared, did she really have to start with
that
one?

“And there wasn’t an herb in sight,” she finished softly.

Customers began to shuffle inside, and Maddie welcomed them to the store while Angelina continued dusting and rearranging in preparation for the busy weekend. The Maple Ridge Music Festival always brought potential shoppers to the music store. The weekend-long event featured local music and crafts and was the town’s only tourist attraction, bringing in visitors from miles around.

Throughout the rest of the busy day, Angelina had the feeling that someone was staring at her.

And to her great disappointment, it wasn’t always Dylan.

The first time, it was Corey Ellis—a tall blonde who had just opened the new hardware store in town. A little later, it was Brad Tompkins, who pretended to be interested in one of her mandolins but really just wanted to ask her out to dinner. Angelina made up some excuse as to why that wasn’t possible, and when he left, Brad was without a date and the mandolin still hung on her wall.

Angelina wasn’t used to all this attention.

Maddie, however, was thrilled.

“That spell is really kicking in,” she whispered in her friend’s ear.

“Stop it.”

“I’m serious. There isn’t a man in this room who can keep his eyes off you, and that includes my favorite reporter from Nashville.”

Angelina grinned. “Do you know many reporters from Nashville?”

“No, but even if I did, Dylan would still be my favorite.”

Angelina glanced toward the window to find Dylan standing there, gazing at her. Her body still tingled from his massage, and his intense look was making her a little dizzy. Luckily the shop was crawling with people, so she didn’t have time to stand around and stare at the handsome reporter with the gentle hands.

 Later that afternoon, Angelina was busy showing an antique banjo to a customer from Virginia when she heard a familiar laugh that made her skin crawl. She looked up to find Adam McDonald standing next to the register, shaking hands with one of the local musicians.

Adam walked casually over to the instruments, stopping to admire one of the more expensive Gibson guitars they’d just put on display. A nervous Angelina offered the banjo to the man and walked slowly over to the counter. She took comfort in the fact that the shop was full of people, and Adam had never been one to make a scene.

Dylan noticed her agitation and was immediately by her side.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Determined to keep her cool, Angelina began to rearrange the counter display of guitar picks. Dylan watched her every move, but it didn’t make her edgy. She found it comforting, which was a little ironic considering Adam’s possessive tendencies and Angelina’s absolute rebellion against them.

Adam McDonald had been her first serious boyfriend. She’d rarely dated in high school, but he’d worn her down with his charming smile and all-American good looks. As captain of the basketball team, Adam had been the most popular guy in school, with girls worshiping at his feet.

For some reason, he’d picked Angelina.

At first, his controlling nature had been flattering. Friends told her it must be wonderful to have a boyfriend who truly loved her, so she’d ignored her gut instinct—and the warnings of her parents—and allowed him to dictate every second of her life. When she finally realized their relationship was far from healthy, Angelina had half-heartedly conjured a spell to banish him from her life. Naturally, it hadn’t worked, and when she had tried the more traditional route of simply breaking up with him, Angelina had witnessed a side of Adam McDonald she’d never dreamed existed.

“Who is he, Angelina?” Dylan asked.

“He’s an asshole who shouldn’t be allowed to step one miserable foot inside this shop,” Maddie muttered angrily.

“He’s nobody.”

“Then why are you trembling?” Dylan took her hand and squeezed it softly.

Maddie slammed the register shut just as Adam appeared.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, his voice laced with that same Southern drawl the girls had loved back in school. He placed the Gibson guitar on the counter and grinned, but his phony smile turned into a frown when he saw Angelina and Dylan’s joined hands.

Very calmly, Angelina pulled her hand away and reached for the guitar to check the value. Normally she wouldn’t make her loyal customers pay full retail price for an instrument, but Adam McDonald deserved no favors.

Maddie was livid. “Don’t you dare sell him that guitar, Angelina.”

Angelina breathed deeply. The last thing she wanted was for Adam to think he intimidated her in any way.

 “Dylan, would you please take Maddie to lunch?” Angelina asked, proud of her steady voice. “She gets a little grouchy when she hasn’t eaten.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Dylan’s tone was firm and resolute.

“Neither am I,” Maddie said.

Adam smirked and handed Angelina his credit card.

“You’re as beautiful as ever, Angelina. How are you?”

Without saying a word, she swiped his card. Maddie huffed loudly and stormed off. Dylan, however, remained rooted to his spot at Angelina’s side.

“Are you looking forward to the festival?” Adam asked.

Angelina ignored his question and handed him the credit card receipt to sign. She’d never been so rude to a customer, but this wasn’t just some random shopper. He didn’t seem offended in the least. He simply signed his name to the slip and handed it back.

“Have a good day, Angelina.”

The bastard’s smirk remained on his face, even as he walked out the door with her guitar in his hand.

The cancer treatment center in Knoxville was brightly lit and decorated in soft blues and creams. It was meant to set a peaceful tone, and to the patients, it probably offered some sort of calm. For Angelina, it had the opposite effect. It did, however, make her forget all about her encounter with Adam McDonald.

Sometimes, a little perspective was all one needed.

With her banana Popsicle in hand, Celia chatted with a fellow patient while the IV pumped their bodies full of poison. The doctor had suggested something to help with the nausea, and Popsicles seemed to do the trick. They’d been lucky so far, and the treatments hadn’t been too brutal on Celia’s body.

“My daughter will be graduating from college in May,” the woman said proudly. Her name was Teresa, and she lived with her husband just outside of Knoxville. “I can’t wait to see her walk across the stage.”

“That will be wonderful,” Celia agreed.

Angelina heard the wistful tone of her mom’s voice. While Celia had been thankful when her daughter had taken over the shop, a small part of her wished that Angelina had gone to school. She hadn’t mentioned it in a while, but during the drive home, she broached the subject.

“You could still go to college, you know.”

“Mom, you know how busy the shop keeps me. Besides, I’ve lost any desire I ever had to practice medicine.”

Celia sighed. “I know your beliefs have been shaken since the death of your father, but the power to heal is such an amazing gift.”

“It’s only an amazing gift when it works.”

Celia leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. The treatments drained her, leaving her physically weak and emotionally exhausted. The hour drive back to Maple Ridge was normally a quiet one, so Angelina was a little surprised when her mom started talking again.

“I’ve invited Dylan to dinner tonight.”

This wasn’t exactly breaking news. Dylan had been a guest at their table almost every night since he’d arrived in Maple Ridge. Never had she seen her mother so willing to talk to a stranger.

“He’ll have some questions for me. Maddie told him about Billy Ross’s wrist.”

Celia grinned. “I bet that particular story has made Dylan even more curious about you.”

“I’m sure. He also met Adam McDonald yesterday.”

Celia tilted her head toward her daughter. “I thought he was living in Asheville now.”

“I think he’s back for the festival. Tourists have started to trickle into town. It should be a good weekend for the shop.”

Angelina could feel her mother’s eyes on her as she continued to drive.

“Did he upset you, Angelina?”

She shook her head, and the remaining drive home was a quiet one. They never talked about Adam, but Angelina wasn’t one to keep secrets from her mother. Besides, Dylan was sure to mention him tonight, and she didn’t want her mom blindsided by the news that her ex-boyfriend had made an appearance.