The Widow of Saunders Creek (6 page)

I was shaking when we walked outside. The sun stabbed as it slowly descended. I was glad we’d be driving west. “Wow, I had no idea it was so late.”

“Lowe’s is open for a few more hours.” Eli opened the door to his truck and waited for me to buckle up before he shut the door. I looked out the window toward the shop, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aunt Trudy. I wasn’t disappointed. She had come to the store window and stood staring out at me as though she knew.

I almost felt guilty as Eli slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. I knew he’d want to avoid the subject, but my curiosity refused to let it go.

“So, she’s an interesting character,” I said, giving her a little wave and a smile as we pulled away.

“To say the least.”

“How exactly are we related to her?”

“She’s Pop’s youngest sister.” He cut a glance toward me and missed his opportunity to pull out of the parking lot into traffic. “The youngest of thirteen kids. She’s only seventy-five but looks about ninety.”

“That’s only because she doesn’t have teeth.”

He laughed. “She does that on purpose, I think. Her way of seeming more witchy.”

His tone and lack of respect for an elder surprised me, and I stayed quiet. He must have understood my silent condemnation, because he elaborated.

“I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way. I mean she honest-to-goodness wants the mystique of being a witch. She practices the old magic from around here. Everywhere else in the world, the witches want to get rid of the stereotype of warts and wrinkles and pointy hats, but she likes it.”

“Is that why she asked me if I knew magic? Did she think I might be a witch?”

He got an opening and maneuvered the truck into traffic. Then he turned toward the main street that would lead to the outer road, which would lead to the interstate. We had a good forty-five-minute drive ahead of us. And I was getting hungry, but no way did I want to walk into a restaurant today. The thought of being in a room full of people sent a wave of panic through me.

Eli glanced at me again. “Aunt Trudy seems to have taken a personal interest in you.”

“I liked her. I thought she had character. When the house is finished, I’ll have her over for lunch one day.”

“Just be careful, Corrie. As much as I love her, Aunt Trudy isn’t playing games. She honestly believes the things she said to you.”

“So she’s a witch for real?” I grinned and put on my Glinda the Good Witch high-pitched voice. “But is she a good witch or a bad witch?” He gave me a blank stare, then frowned. I gave a mock gasp. “From
The Wizard of Oz
? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it. That’s un-American.”

“Oh yeah, I saw that.” He watched for traffic and pulled onto the outer road. “And to answer the question, she’s a good woman. I love my aunt. But we have fundamental differences in what we believe.” He hesitated. “My faith tells me she’s deceived.”

“Deceived how?” I felt bad for teasing about
The Wizard of Oz
when the topic of his aunt clearly troubled him.

He expelled a heavy breath. “The old-timers around here still hold to the superstitions the ancestors brought with them from Appalachia in the early nineteen hundreds. Our family has been filled with healers and naturalists as far back as anyone has bothered to trace.”

I shivered a little in spite of myself. “Your mom running a natural-food store, for instance.”

“Yes, that’s bringing the tradition into the twenty-first century. Aunt Trudy and Pop’s mother sold charms and love potions and served as midwives to most of the women around here for a couple of generations.”

The thought made me smile. “No harm in that.” I felt like I’d been charmed from the moment I laid eyes on Jarrod, and even death hadn’t eased the effects of his spell on my heart.

“She was said to be a medium.”

“Conjure-up-the-dead medium?”

“It’s called spirit communication, but yes. And the Bible says to stay away from it.”

“She said she heard Jarrod say he misses me.”

Eli’s jaw tightened. “She might have heard something speaking to her, but it wasn’t Jarrod.”

“Just like that?” Irritation hit me. “You can’t even consider the possibility he spoke to her?”

“I believe the Bible.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s part of our heritage. You’re living in the house where she grew up. I just thought it might interest you.”

Actually, since he put it that way, I had to admit that I was more than a little intrigued. I reached over and put my hand on his upper arm. “It does interest me. To be honest, Aunt Trudy did get me a little spooked.”

He shook his head. “She’s a good person, basically. Mainly she’s into nature and trying to set things in balance. You have nothing to worry about from her unless …”

Okay, when someone leaves a sentence open-ended like that, I can’t help but worry. Especially when it has to do with worrying about a witch—good or otherwise.

“Unless what? Is she going to cast a spell on me or curse me?”

His lips twitched, and I was glad to see him lighten up a little. “Of course not. Unless you make her mad—just kidding.”

“Jerk.” I punched his arm, and he laughed. But he still hadn’t answered the question. “I don’t need to worry unless what?”

“Aunt Trudy is kind and a good woman …”

“But she dabbles in the black arts so I should be careful?” I thought I was starting to catch his drift a little.

He shook his head.

Or maybe not.

“She doesn’t dabble. There is a definite darkness surrounding several of the women in the family and one of the men—Aunt Trudy’s grandson, Raymond. Even though it’s mostly about nature and doing so-called good, the women around here are serious about this craft. That’s what makes it so much more dangerous. They hold gatherings in the woods on Aunt Trudy’s property, which isn’t that far from your property.

“She has a coven?” I held my breath and waited for him to say no; instead he nodded.

“Essentially. And it could be she’s hoping you’ll be sensitive to spiritual things. Maybe join the family tradition?”

Fear trickled down my spine. “I’m not part of the family, technically, so that would make me more of a Muggle.”

Again confusion clouded his eyes. Did this guy ever watch a movie? I shook my head. “It’s from Harry Potter, but never mind.”

“Well, anyway, in our part of the country, the old-timers believe the only way a witch can pass down the gene—for lack of a better word—is male to female or vice versa and through sexual contact.”

My face warmed—what was I, twelve? “So because Jarrod and I were married, she could tag me as a member if I wanted to learn the craft?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that.” I held on to the hand brace above me as he slowed the truck at the intersection that would take us off the outer road onto the main highway. “I’m too much of a chicken
to have anything to do with witchcraft. Plus, I’m too levelheaded, if you can believe that after catching me passed out this morning.”

His lips twitched, as I’d intended. But he grew serious again almost immediately. “Just be careful. It’s seductive. It’s also easy to justify it and make it much less dangerous in your mind and heart than it is. Most of the family doesn’t even give a thought to where Aunt Trudy’s magic comes from. They just accept her for who she is and let her be, with her spells and moonlight gatherings.”

His eyes remained on the road ahead of us, and he maneuvered the truck carefully in and out of traffic. Eli was truly troubled by all of this. I made a mental note to let Aunt Trudy know as soon as possible to take me off her list of witches in training. It definitely wasn’t for me.

By the time I got home, it was after nine o’clock, and my stomach felt like a cave, hollowed out. I’d offered to buy Corrie dinner in Springfield, but her stomach wasn’t ready for anything solid, as I’d suspected. She waved away my suggestion.

Mom’s car sat in my driveway, and my stomach jumped. Dad had passed on two years earlier, and my sister, Lynn, moved away right out of high school, so I was the only immediate family Mom had around here. I worried when she showed up late like this. She should be home, settled in for the night.

The house smelled like tomato sauce and Italian sausage, and my stomach rumbled. “Mom?” I called out. She would be absorbed in one of her nightly shows on the kitchen TV and would be oblivious to someone walking into the house. Me or a burglar or whoever. She stood at the counter chopping parsley, and as I suspected, she was watching
Law & Order: SVU
, which she always called SUV, and was clueless to the fact that I’d just called her name.

“Am I going to have to take away your key?”

She jumped at the sound of my voice, and her empty hand flew to her chest. “Gracious, Eli. Warn a person, will you? My heart is strong, but at my age I could have a stroke being scared like that.”

I didn’t mention that I’d called out to her five seconds earlier. Why bother? “What’s all this?” I asked.

“Oh.” She tossed the parsley into a bowl of other fresh greens. “I didn’t figure poor Corrie would feel like stopping for food.” She shook her head. “She looked dead on her feet today.”

Refraining from telling her exactly why Corrie appeared that way, I leaned across the counter and snuck a piece of broccoli from the bowl. “That’s thoughtful of you. You’re right: she wasn’t up for food at all.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s in the oven?” I asked.

“Eggplant parmesan.” She paused and looked at me. “Do you want to go wash your hands while I get this on the table?”

“Sure. That’s exactly what I want to do. Be right back.”

Walking down the hallway toward the bathroom, I had to smile. God love her, she tried to let her thirty-year-old son grow up, but it was hard for her. She always posed her orders in the form of a question so I wouldn’t feel like a kid. I didn’t mind so much, but it was probably a good thing for her to work through it. Especially since marriage had been on my mind a lot lately.

I didn’t think it had to do specifically with Corrie. I knew she had just suffered an enormous loss, and I had no business even considering her in a romantic fashion. But she was cute, funny, smart—more my type than Jarrod’s, I’d always thought. But he’d adored the girl, and the more I got to know her, the easier it was to see why.

I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink as I dried my hands. My mind went back to Aunt Trudy’s words to me:
“She’s not for you. Don’t let your competition with Jarrod lead your heart down the wrong path.”

I couldn’t help but wonder why she would say such a thing. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that Corrie was single now, living at the home place, and I was going to be there a lot in the upcoming weeks.

“You coming, Son?” Mom called from the kitchen. I shook my head at my reflection. I had considered moving in with Mom, or having her move in with me, after Dad died, but we’d have driven each other nuts inside a week. I figured she knew it too, because she’d never brought it up.

The kitchen table was set when I got back. Mom stood at the counter, still watching
Law & Order
. She glanced up when I arrived and shut it off with the remote.

“You can leave it on if you want,” I said. “It doesn’t bother me.”

She shrugged and walked around the counter to the table. “It’s a rerun. I’d rather talk.”

After a quick prayer of thanks, we filled our plates. I waited, assuming she’d want to talk about Corrie. I didn’t have to wait long.

“Did Corrie find what she needed?”

I nodded. “Cushions for her porch swing and some groceries.” I slid the hot, tomato-filled bite of eggplant parmesan between my lips.

“Cushions. Good idea. They’ll make the swing look better, I guess.”

“They’re not for decoration.” My heart clenched at the memory of Corrie curled up on the swing. “She slept on the swing last night. I have a feeling she plans to do it again rather than sleep inside without Jarrod.”

“I can understand that.” Mom sipped her tea and stared hard at the bowl of salad. “I guess it’s almost like it just happened for her, coming back here and all.”

“I think she’s regrieving.”

“Aunt Trudy seems taken with her.”

I tensed and put down my fork. “What do you think about that? Doesn’t it seem like she’s more interested in Corrie than she should be?”

“Hmm. Could be.” Mom sipped her tea and swallowed her bite.

We loved Aunt Trudy. Her eccentricities were from being part of a very old, superstitious Ozarks family. Most of the families around these parts had at least one or two “widder women” who claimed powers. I believed Trudy actually possessed them. I trusted in God, but only a fool would turn a blind eye to the powers of darkness so prevalent in this area. Most of the folks who practiced believed their powers were for good, and despite assuring Corrie that Aunt Trudy also believed hers were for good, I wasn’t so sure. She did some good, I supposed, but I thought she delved knowingly into the darkness too.

I waited for Mom to expound.

“After you left the store and we were cleaning up, she mentioned there was sensitivity around Corrie. Something that makes her special.”