Something to Witch About (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 5) Page 16

  Yeah, that’s the appropriate word for what we were facing -- undignified. “I woke up in his memory. Floyd’s, I mean.”

  Aunt Tillie rolled her head to the side. “I see.”

  “You see? You don’t want to know what I saw?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway,” I said. “I saw Floyd. I saw Floyd terrorizing his wife. I saw him beating her. I saw him drunk as a skunk and threatening to kill that woman.”

  “Floyd had issues.”

  Issues? “I saw you there, too.”

  Aunt Tillie raised her eyebrows briefly. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  I slammed my hand on the counter angrily. “Stop telling me what I saw!”

  Thistle pushed through the swinging door, not looking surprised in the least to see us arguing. “Did she tell you anything?”

  “She says I didn’t see her in the memory.”

  “Of course she did.”

  “Listen, missy,” Aunt Tillie said. “I know you’ve had a rough day – we’ve all had a rough day – but there’s only so much I can take.”

  “Try being me for a day,” Thistle challenged.

  “Oh, you’re such a … kvetch.”

  “What’s a kvetch?”

  “Look it up in the dictionary,” Aunt Tillie said. “You’ll see your photo.”

  This wasn’t how I envisioned this conversation going. I tried to get it back on track. “Did you kill Floyd to protect Mrs. Gunderson?”

  “No.”

  “If you did, I’d understand. He was horrible. I mean horrible. Chief Terry will understand.”

  “I didn’t kill Floyd.”

  “You were there.”

  “You don’t know what you saw,” Aunt Tillie countered. “You’re delusional.”

  The sound of a throat clearing at the door caused us all to swivel in unison. Landon stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, his face teeming with anger. “Why are you arguing?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  “Well, you’re not telling it tonight.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Landon was already wagging his finger. “No.”

  “You don’t even know what we’re talking about.”

  “I don’t want to know,” Landon said. “I want to put you to bed. I want to climb in next to you. I want to wake up tomorrow and deal with this all then. That is what I want – and that is what I’m damn well going to get.”

  “You said you didn’t want me to lie,” I protested.

  “I’m not asking you to lie,” he said. “I want you to rest.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Do you have … do you have any idea what I thought today?” Landon’s face was a tortured tableau of guilt and anger. “Do you have any idea what pictures were going through my head? I thought you were lying hurt at the bottom of a ravine. I thought you were bleeding out, dying slowly on the ground in a place no one would ever find you. Even worse, I thought you were already dead. I was out there looking for you and I was worried you were already dead.”

  Aunt Tillie, Thistle and I were flabbergasted. We’d never seen him this worked up. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Thistle said.

  Aunt Tillie shifted her gaze to the left. “I’m not.”

  Landon was about to blow. “You know what?”

  “What?” Aunt Tillie asked, shaking her head sarcastically in an effort to mock him.

  “You are horrible. You are mean. You are crass. You are … you are just a terrible person. I’ve made excuses for you. I’ve told myself you’re just old and set in your ways. I figured you couldn’t really be that bad. I mean, Bay loves you. There has to be a reason. There has to be something about you that isn’t horrible.”

  “Who are you calling old?” Aunt Tillie growled.

  Landon ran his hand up to his forehead, gripping a handful of hair in an attempt to regain some little bit of control. “Stop talking.”

  “Don’t you tell me what to do.”

  “Stop it!”

  Aunt Tillie jumped back in surprise, the seriousness of his tone finally hitting home. Thistle’s eyes widened, exchanging a stunned look with me. He’d actually rendered her speechless.

  Landon drew a deep breath. “This is what you’re going to do.”

  Aunt Tillie waited.

  “You’re going to give your niece a hug,” Landon said. “Yes, a hug. You’re going to tell her how happy you are she didn’t die and break every heart in this damn inn. Then? Then you’re going to go to bed and not even think about causing any type of trouble for at least twenty-four hours.”

  Aunt Tillie didn’t look sure, but didn’t argue.

  “Then, just when you’re ready to cause some trouble, you’re going to check with me and make sure it’s okay. Have you got that?”

  I expected Aunt Tillie to freak out. I expected her to rant and rave. I expected her to curse us all into weeks of unspeakable horror. She didn’t, though. For a second, I swear, I thought pride – and even more impressively, respect – flitted across her face. Instead of arguing, she squared her shoulders and marched over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist.

  I stiffened at the inexplicable show of capitulation.

  “I’m glad you didn’t die,” Aunt Tillie said.

  With those words, she let me go and left the room. She didn’t look back.

  “Omigod, she’s possessed,” Thistle said, dissolving into mad giggles.

  I fixed my eyes on Landon incredulously. “How did you do that?”

  “You’re going to shut up, too,” Landon said. “I’m tired. I’m so tired I can’t think straight.”

  I thought about arguing with him, the firm set of his jaw told me that would be a terrible idea. I merely nodded in response.

  Landon moved over to me and swooped me up in his arms. “Now, I’m carrying you upstairs. Don’t even bother arguing. You can barely walk. There’s no way you can climb those stairs. Then? Then I’m putting you into bed. No one is going to say another word.” He shot Thistle a warning look. “Not one more word.”

  I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, his body draped over mine, not even an inch of space separating us, to make sure nothing attacked me in my sleep.

  The day had definitely turned out better than it had started.

  Twenty-Five

  I was drifting in an ocean of blue when consciousness finally claimed me. Landon’s eyes were wide and alert when I focused on him. He was lying next to me, watching me sleep. I had no idea how long he’d been awake.

  “Morning,” I mumbled.

  “Morning.”

  He lowered his lips to mine and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips.

  “How did you sleep?” I asked when he finally pulled away.

  “Good,” he said. “I woke up a few times, a strange place and all. You didn’t move even once, though.”

  “Yeah, I was out.”

  “Whatever that potion your mother gave you was, I guess I’m a fan. I thought you would have nightmares.”

  “I don’t think I even dreamed,” I said.

  Landon twirled his fingers in my hair. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I’m scared to move.”

  Landon rested his head against mine on the pillow. “Then don’t move.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be an option forever,” I said.

  “It’s an option for the next five minutes.”

  “You make a good point.”

  “You need to stop acting so surprised when that happens,” he said, reaching over to entwine the fingers of his free hand with mine. “You need to realize I always make good points.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Good.”

  I closed my eyes, wondering briefly if I could slip back into sleep. After a few minutes I realized that even trying was fru
itless. “What time is it?”

  “It’s almost nine.”

  I did the math in my head. “That means I slept for almost eleven hours.”

  “Obviously you needed it.”

  “Did you need it, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you angry with me?”

  Landon pulled back slightly to meet my gaze. “Why would you ask that?”

  “You were angry last night,” I pointed out.

  “I wasn’t angry with you.”

  “No,” I agreed. “You were just angry.”

  “I wasn’t angry,” Landon said. “I was … I was just overwhelmed.”

  I didn’t know how to respond.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at Thistle and Aunt Tillie,” he offered.

  Was he worried I was angry? “I’m not. It was the highlight of my day. Well, you carrying me up the stairs like a romance-novel hero was the real highlight of my day. That was a close second, though.”

  Landon laughed, the sound warming my heart. “I’m glad your sense of humor is intact.”

  “I’m glad you’re … here.” I swallowed hard, fighting the burn climbing my cheeks.

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  I closed my eyes again, happy to have a few minutes to enjoy the warmth of his body next to mine without interruption.

  “Bay, I need you to know something.”

  “What?”

  “If you ever die on me, I’m going to be really upset.”

  I laughed, my back aching with the sudden movement. “Good to know.”

  A knock on the door caused us both to jump. I wasn’t surprised to see Mom and Marnie standing in the archway when the door swung open.

  “Is everyone decent?” Mom asked pointedly.

  Landon sighed, shifting into a sitting position. “Yes.”

  Mom marched into the room, a breakfast tray in her hands. “I thought you’d want some breakfast.”

  Marnie was right behind her, carrying a twin tray. Landon moved to get up, but Marnie motioned for him to stay in the bed. “We thought you two would like a quiet breakfast – just the two of you.”

  Suspicion washed over me. “Is this a trick?”

  Mom ignored me. “Look. I made your favorite. Eggs, hash browns, ham, toast and tomato juice. You need to get some food into you.”

  “I haven’t moved since the last pile of food you put in front of me,” I said, shifting to sit up. “Oh … ow … ow.”

  Landon reached over to help me. “What hurts?”

  “What doesn’t hurt?”

  “That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  “It’s not that kind of hurt,” I said. “It’s more of an … ache.”

  “That’s what happens when you fall off a horse,” Mom said.

  “Good to know.”

  Mom made sure I had everything I needed and then dropped a kiss on my head. “Don’t ever do what you did yesterday again.”

  She was at the door before I found my voice. “Mom?”

  “What?”

  “Thanks.”

  “For what? It’s just breakfast.”

  “For everything.”

  Mom smiled. “When you’re done, come downstairs. Terry is waiting.”

  “You’re not being mean to him, are you?”

  “He’s eating breakfast.”

  “You left him alone with Twila? That doesn’t sound like you.”

  Marnie and Mom exchanged a look. “Well, we should get back downstairs. Enjoy your breakfast.”

  I held off my laugh until the door closed and we were alone. “This is just … surreal.”

  “Enjoy it,” Landon said, moving his glass of tomato juice to my tray. “It won’t last long.”

  I knew he was right.

  “I’M MOVING out!”

  “You’re not moving out.”

  “Don’t tell me what I’m going to do.”

  “You’re not moving out!”

  “Fine. Then you’re moving out.”

  Landon and I took our time rejoining the Overlook’s special brand of mayhem. When we did, we found everyone enjoying tea and coffee in the dining room – as Mom and Aunt Tillie launched the first verbal missiles of World War III.

  “What’s going on?” Landon asked.

  Aunt Tillie jumped when she heard his voice. “Nothing.”

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Landon prodded.

  “It’s nothing.”

  Mom furrowed her brow, confused. “I thought … .”

  “I wasn’t doing anything,” Aunt Tillie said. “We were just talking.”

  Landon pulled out a dining room chair and helped me settle into it. He greeted his family with a friendly smile.

  “You look better,” Connie said.

  “I slept,” Landon said.

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Landon pulled up short. “You weren’t?”

  “Were you thrown off a horse and left for dead in the woods all day?”

  “No.”

  “Then I wasn’t talking to you,” Connie said. “How are you feeling, dear?”

  I was stunned. “I think the best word to describe how I’m feeling is ‘stiff.’”

  “I bet,” Connie clucked. “Did the horse buck you off? Did you see it coming? That actually makes it worse, when you know it’s coming, I mean.”

  Actually I was looking at a poltergeist when a branch hit me in the head. “No, a branch knocked me off. Ghost was terrified.”

  “Yeah, that was so weird,” Denny said. “I wonder what happened.”

  Thistle and I traded wary looks. “It was probably a snake. They come out more in the spring and the horses hate them.”

  Landon raised an eyebrow and smirked. I’d told him my story over breakfast – and a joint shower. He said he needed time to process, but the memory was clearly changing his opinion on the possible crime.

  “That’s horrible,” Connie said. “Your mother said you were unconscious for hours. You must’ve been so scared when you woke up.”

  “More confused than anything else,” I hedged. “It was … disorienting.”

  “Well, you should know, your family … your whole family was amazing. I’ve never seen people jump into action like they did. And Landon, well, Landon was just beside himself. I’ve never seen him so … worried.” Connie’s face was pinched. “It was really sweet.”

  “I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

  “Of course you didn’t, dear,” Connie said. “It was just a horrible situation. I can’t believe how well you’re handling it. If it had been me, well, I think I would have just crawled into a hole and died.”

  I wanted to believe she was sincere, but life with Aunt Tillie made me leery.

  “I don’t think that’s true,” I said. “I think you’re stronger than that.”

  Chief Terry walked into the dining room from the kitchen, his dark eyes filled with worry as he searched the room. When they found me, he strode over and dropped a kiss on my head. “There’s my girl.”

  “She’s my girl,” Landon said, his voice teasing and pleasant.

  “I’ve known her longer,” Chief Terry argued, moving away from me and settling into an open chair across the table. “She’ll always be my girl.”

  “I’m ready to fight for her if it comes to it,” Landon said.

  “Son, until you’ve spent four hours searching for the mood ring she lost in a pile of leaves, you’re not even in the running.”

  Landon arched an eyebrow. “A mood ring?”

  “Hey, I loved that thing.”

  “And who found it?” Chief Terry asked.

  Mom patted Chief Terry on the shoulder as she passed, all animosity from Aunt Tillie’s questioning seemingly forgotten. “If I remember right, you kept searching three hours after her bedtime.”

  Chief Terry blushed. “She wouldn’t stop crying.”

  “Bay always was your favorite,” Mom said. “I think it’s because she�
��s my daughter.”

  Marnie scowled. “Or because he liked you least and thought he should make up for that lack of emotion by coddling Bay.”

  Oh, good, the competition for Chief Terry’s affection was back on.

  “He didn’t coddle Bay,” Mom countered. “And he likes me best. Tell her that, Terry.”

  Chief Terry shifted uncomfortably. Luckily for him, his spot on the hot seat was quickly forgotten when Kenneth breezed into the room. He was carrying a vase full of flowers – one so big he was dwarfed behind its girth – and heading toward Aunt Tillie. When did he get here?

  “Tillie, my love, I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

  Aunt Tillie made a sound in her throat. It was halfway between a gag and growl. “Go home, Kenneth.”

  “Not until you forgive me.”

  “I’m not forgiving you.”

  “Hi, Kenneth,” Blanche greeted him with a saucy wink. “Those flowers are beautiful. Some people just don’t appreciate the beauty of flora.”

  Kenneth look confused. “I don’t think there are any floras in here. They’re roses. Really expensive roses, actually.”

  “I love roses,” Blanche said.

  “I hate roses,” Aunt Tillie announced. “I hate all things with thorns.”

  “You have thorns,” Landon pointed out.

  “Watch yourself,” Aunt Tillie warned. “I took pity on you last night, but that won’t last for very long.”

  Landon rolled his eyes.

  “They’re beautiful flowers, Aunt Tillie,” I said. “You should thank him.”

  “You don’t push it either.”

  “Don’t threaten her,” Landon warned, going into protective mode.

  “I’m not threatening her.”

  “It sounded like a threat to me.”

  “Who doesn’t like roses?” Blanche said. “Only someone of limited breeding would turn their nose up at roses. Well, look who I’m talking to.”

  “Blanche,” Connie chided, “stop being rude.”

  “Did she just call me low class?” Aunt Tillie was on her feet. Mom moved in behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you have some gardening to do?”

  Mom must be desperate if she was sending Aunt Tillie to her pot field.

  “No,” Aunt Tillie said. “I have an ass to kick.”

  “No, I recall you saying you had a full day of … planting to do.”