wicked witches 08.6 - a witch in time (13 page)

“I’ve noticed,” Landon said, his sardonic side taking over. “You know you want kids. That was enough to freak anyone out, though, so I’m going to let it slide.”

“Maybe one kid,” I hedged. “And only if they knock me out for the labor.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Landon said, wrinkling his nose as he leaned over and dropped a kiss on the tip of mine. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at you the same way again.”

“Well, I happen to be fond of the way you’ve looked at me, so I don’t like the sound of that,” I said. “I hope this wide-eyed awe thing you’re going through is temporary, because if you keep staring at me that way we’re never going to have sex again.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Landon chided. “We just watched your birth. You’re like … two minutes old.”

“No, I’m in my twenties,” I corrected. “But I am thinking about sticking at twenty-nine forever when I get there. I hope that doesn’t upset you.”

Landon snorted. “I’m fine with you whatever age you are,” he said. “You have to admit, though, that was truly … beautiful.”

“Oh, you have a goofy look on your face,” I muttered. “We need to get out of Aunt Tillie’s mind. This is going to kill your sex drive if we keep going.”

“Hey! Don’t ever say that. Nothing will kill my sex drive. I’m a god, and should be treated as such.”

“And you’re back,” I said, giggling when he pulled my body against his and planted a scorching kiss on me. “Whew,” I said, exhaling heavily when we parted. “I guess I was wrong about your sex drive.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Landon said, finally turning his attention to the house. “So, do you have any idea when we are now?”

“No,” I said. “I … .”

The sound of approaching footsteps caused me to snap my mouth shut. When I turned around and found three small girls staring at me, I could do nothing but let it fall open again.

I would’ve recognized the faces anywhere. Of course, one of them belonged to me. I looked to be about seven years old, and I was dressed in cotton shorts and a T-shirt. Younger versions of Clove and Thistle flanked me, and the look Thistle shot us promised mayhem.

“Who are you?” Clove asked, her eyes wide.

“Oh, my,” Landon said, smirking when he saw us. “Wow!”

“I’m … .” I broke off and glanced at my younger self. I didn’t want to frighten her, even though I knew she wasn’t technically real. “I’m Barb.”

“Barb, huh?” Thistle’s eyes flashed as she looked me up and down. “You don’t look like a Barb.”

“And how do you know that?” I challenged.

“Because you had to stop and think about your name, which means you’re making it up,” Thistle replied, not missing a beat. “You’re not Barb.”

“I see she came out fully cooked,” Landon said, grinning at little Thistle. “Is that her natural hair color? For some reason I always thought she was a brunette.”

“We’re not supposed to talk to strangers.” Clove hung back even as Thistle and little Bay risked moving closer. “You could be kidnappers.”

“We’re not kidnappers,” Landon replied, lowering himself to his knees so he didn’t appear so large. “I’m a … police officer, for all intents and purposes. I’m one of the good guys.”

“Oh, no,” Clove fretted, clasping her hands. “It’s ‘The Man.’ He’s finally here.”

“He’s not ‘The Man,’” Thistle shot back. “He’s something else.”

“I take it Aunt Tillie warned you about ‘The Man’ when you were kids, too,” Landon said, forcing his smile to remain in place even as irritation wafted off of him. “She and I are going to have a really long talk about her disdain for law enforcement when this is all over.”

I watched as young Bay sized us up, her blue eyes thoughtful. She settled on me first. “You’re pretty.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You are, too.”

“Oh, that’s just too cute for words,” Landon said, his grin wide as he took in young Bay. “Look how cute you are.”

“I know I’m cute,” young Bay said. “Everyone tells me how cute I am.”

“They have to tell you that so they won’t hurt your feelings,” Thistle said. “It’s not true.”

“You’re already a handful, aren’t you?” Landon said, shaking his head. “Wait … why are you girls out here alone? You’re too young to be running around the woods without anyone watching you.”

“I wouldn’t get worked up about that,” I said, instinctively reaching out to touch my mini doppelganger’s hair. “We did it all the time. Aunt Tillie magically tethered us.”

Thistle narrowed her eyes. “How do you know Aunt Tillie?”

“I … um … .”

“We’re friends of the family,” Landon answered, remaining as still as possible as young Bay touched his hair. He was infatuated with watching her. It made me uneasy, although I couldn’t quite identify why. “We came for a visit.”

“Why do you have such long hair?” young Bay asked. “Aunt Tillie says only girls should have long hair.”

“And hippie freaks,” Thistle added.

“I think we should call for help,” Clove said, refusing to move closer even though Thistle and Bay clearly feared no danger from us. “They’re strangers, and Aunt Tillie says strangers could steal us and we’ll never be heard from again.”

“That’s a great thing to tell a kid,” Landon muttered.

“Are you a hippie freak?” young Bay asked, her eyes wide. “Do you hang out at the carnival like the other guys with long hair? We saw them at the festival the other day. Aunt Tillie said never to take candy from them no matter what.”

“That’s very wise,” Landon said. “I don’t work at the carnival, though. I already told you, I’m a police officer.”

“I’m going to like you anyway,” Bay said, smiling. “You’re pretty.”

“I’m handsome,” Landon automatically corrected.

“Is that different than pretty?”

“Well … .” Landon clearly didn’t know how to answer.

“Oh, let her call you pretty,” I said, hunkering down next to Thistle. I couldn’t remember her being this young. Well, I could, but only because I was young when I thought about it, too. Being so much older than her was throwing me for a loop. “It’s a compliment.”

Landon gave in. “Fine,” he said. “You can call me pretty.”

Bay tentatively reached out a finger and touched his cheek. Landon’s gaze bounced between her and me before settling back on her. He was trying to wrap his mind around things, too. “I like him,” Bay said after a moment. “I think we should see if we can keep him.”

“Oh, look at that,” I said, smirking. “You charmed me way back when, too.”

“I’m gifted,” Landon said, grinning. “What can I say?”

“We can’t keep him,” Thistle scoffed. “He’s not a dog … unless … will you wear a collar and fetch a ball if I toss it?”

Landon scowled. “No.”

“Then we’re definitely not keeping him,” Thistle said. “We’ll never be able to hide him under our beds … although I kind of want to hit him with a rolled-up newspaper and see what happens.”

“You are delightful,” Landon said, shaking his head. “You’re exactly the same. How is that even possible?”

“The same as what?” Thistle asked, confused.

“This must be the summer before we got Pepper,” I said, automatically fixing the buckles on Thistle’s overalls. “If they’re desperate for a dog, they work hard for it until Christmas to get what they want.”

“We’re getting a dog?” The statement was enough to make Clove move a little closer. She still didn’t trust us. Even as an adult, Clove was tiny. As a child she was small enough to pick up and cradle like a baby, despite the fact that she walked and talked.

“Santa will bring you a dog,” I said, nodding.

“Way to ruin Christmas, Barb,” Landon said. “Don’t tell them that.”

“Christmas won’t be ruined,” I said. “It already happened. It was the best Christmas I ever had – until we spent last year together.”

“Oh, geez,” Landon huffed. “Now I want to kiss you again.”

Bay’s eyes widened. “Is she your girlfriend?”

Landon nodded. “Yes.”

“Can I be your girlfriend, too?” Young Bay seemed a little needy to me. This was starting to get awkward.

“Sure,” Landon answered. “I’ve always wanted two girlfriends.”

“Fun,” Bay said. “Can I put bows in your hair and dress you up?”

I snorted. Landon didn’t look thrilled with the request.

“Sure,” Landon said, casting me a withering look when I dared laugh again. “It’s not like she’s going to have time to really do it.”

I pointed at young Bay, and Landon frowned when he saw she had a ribbon in her hand. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Where did that come from?” Landon asked, flustered.

“It was in my pocket,” Bay answered.

“I think it was supposed to be in your hair, wasn’t it?” I challenged.

Bay lowered her eyes and nodded.

“I always hated the ribbons my mother put in my hair,” I explained. “I yanked them out and shoved them in my pocket as soon as I was out of sight.”

“Well, great,” Landon said. “Couldn’t you have told me about that before I agreed to let her put ribbons in my hair?”

“What fun would that be?” I challenged. “Go ahead, Bay. You can put the ribbon in his hair.”

Bay brightened considerably, and immediately set about her task. Landon remained kneeling, but he didn’t look happy about his new reality.

“Just be glad I don’t have a camera,” I said. “I would definitely save this one for posterity.”

“Ha, ha,” Landon muttered.

I focused my attention back on Thistle. “Where is Aunt Tillie?”

Thistle shrugged. “Probably doing something bad.”

“I see Thistle and Aunt Tillie’s relationship was etched in stone early on,” Landon mused.

“It’s because they’re so much alike,” I said.

“I’m nothing like that old lady,” Thistle snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “Take it back!”

“I’m not going to take it back because it’s true,” I argued. “I know you girls are magically tethered to the property, but Aunt Tillie usually didn’t allow us … I mean you … out without keeping at least half an eye on you. Where is she?”

“She’s looking at a field,” Clove supplied, her gaze busy as it bounced between us. “You’re strangers, so I shouldn’t tell you this, but she says she’s going to garden out there.”

“Oregano,” young Bay said, happily tying the bow in Landon’s hair. She leaned back to admire her handiwork when she was done. “I definitely want to keep you.”

Landon cupped the back of her head a moment and searched her face. I had no idea what he was looking for, but apparently he found it. “You’ll get to keep me one day,” he said.

“Not today, though?” Bay looked crushed.

“Not today,” Landon confirmed. “We’re only here for a brief visit.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Aunt Tillie said, appearing at the edge of the clearing. “I would hate to think you’re some sort of pervert going after young girls.”

I stilled, surprised. It was hard for me to ascertain whether she was my Aunt Tillie or young Bay’s wayward great-aunt. They looked almost the same – and they definitely shared the same wardrobe. I tried not to laugh as I took in her rubber boots and cargo pants. I was almost positive she was young Bay’s Aunt Tillie, which technically still made her my Aunt Tillie, but not really. Ooh, I’m getting a headache.

“I’m not a pervert,” Landon said, pushing himself to a standing position and putting a little distance between himself and Bay. “I was only talking to her.”

“I know,” Aunt Tillie said, resting her hand on Clove’s head. “That’s why you’re still alive. The ribbon is a nice touch, though.”

Landon reached up and tugged the bow out of his hair, quickly shoving it in his pocket. “We were just stopping by. There’s no reason to get … curse happy.”

“Ooh, curse him,” Thistle said. “I haven’t seen a good curse in like, forever.”

“Aunt Tillie cursed you just yesterday so you would drop food all over your clothes when you ate,” Bay reminded her.

“That doesn’t count,” Thistle whined. “I want to see a good curse.”

“Why doesn’t that count?” I asked, smiling at the memory. I remembered Aunt Tillie’s random food curses well. They weren’t funny then, but they were pretty hilarious in hindsight.

“Yeah, why doesn’t that count?” Aunt Tillie echoed.

“Because that was against me, and that’s not fun for nobody,” Thistle said.

“Anybody,” Bay corrected.

“I hate it when you do that,” Thistle snapped.

I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. I corrected Thistle’s grammar for years. I thought it was funny. Her? Yeah, not so much.

“Do you know who we are, Aunt Tillie?” Landon asked, focusing on my great-aunt. “Do you know why we’re here?”

“I know who you are,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I’m not sure why you’re here. It’s odd, though. I don’t feel out of place with you here. Sure, I’m convinced you’re a pervert, but I don’t think you’re dangerous.”

“Why do you think I’m a pervert?”

“You’ve got that look about you,” Aunt Tillie answered.

“It’s the long hair,” Thistle offered. “He’s a hippie freak, right?”

“Nuh-uh,” Clove said, shaking her head so vehemently her black curls bounced. “He’s ‘The Man.’”

“Is that so?” Aunt Tillie asked, narrowing her eyes as she regarded Landon. “Well, that just figures, doesn’t it?”

“What figures?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Aunt Tillie said. “You’re leaving again.”

“But why were we here in the first place?” I was so confused. “Where is my Aunt Tillie?”

“She’s always watching,” Aunt Tillie replied, grinning as she collected her young charges. “You were here to remember not to forget.”

“Did you read that in a fortune cookie?” I grumbled as Landon grabbed my hand. He sensed the oncoming shift, too.

“You were always a funny girl, Bay Winchester,” Aunt Tillie said. “I was hoping you would outgrow it, but I guess I was wrong.”

Even as the colors swirled, I wasn’t ready to give up. “But why this memory?”

“Because your aunt likes to remember the simple times, too,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Have fun, kids. Try not to be a pervert the next go-around.”

Sometimes you have no choice but to get up, dust yourself off and move on. You know, be the bigger person and all that other crap. So get up and dust yourself off. You don’t have to move on, though. I have a new curse, and I’m willing to teach it to you for free. They canceled “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” and I have an opening in my schedule. You just happen to be the beneficiary of that opening. Lila can write a letter complaining to ABC if she doesn’t like it.