A Witchmas Carol Page 3

  “And yet you stayed.”

  “I stayed and I never want to leave.” Landon pressed a kiss to my neck. “Aunt Tillie was weird about us wanting to stay here instead of going to the inn tomorrow morning. Why?”

  “Christmas is her favorite time of year,” I replied. “She’s generally not one for spending too much time with family … except for Christmas.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s never really talked about it all that much. She spent a lot of time with us during the Christmas season when we were kids.”

  “Really? I was under the impression she hated spending time with you girls because she wasn’t fond of babysitting.”

  “She always says things like that but they’re not really true.” I was rueful. “She liked spending time with us. She used to take us plowing with her. We would bury the end of Mrs. Little’s driveway with snow – and then sometimes use magic to turn it yellow – and she would take us to the bakery for doughnuts and hot chocolate when we were done terrorizing her enemies.”

  “That sounds fun.”

  “When you’re eight that type of stuff is always fun. Heck, it was still fun when we were sixteen.”

  Landon chuckled. “We can go there tomorrow and spend a few hours with your family. I’m perfectly fine with that. I know you agreed to spend the day with me because I made that comment about spending the perfect day together. We can adjust our plans.”

  “Then it wouldn’t be the perfect day.”

  “There is no such thing as perfect, sweetie,” Landon argued. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what we do.”

  It was a nice sentiment, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. “We’ll play it by ear,” I said, opting to compromise. “If we feel guilty tomorrow morning, we’ll head to the inn.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” Landon pulled me closer. “Until then, though, I thought we might play a game.”

  I relaxed a bit at his teasing tone. “Oh, yeah? What kind of game?”

  “How do you feel about making snow angels?”

  “That sounds cold.”

  “Naked snow angels.”

  “That sounds even colder.”

  “I thought we could cheat and make them in the bathtub.”

  I snickered as he tickled my side, laughing as I melted against him. “That sounds like the perfect way to spend an evening.”

  “I thought so.”

  Do you want to know the real reason Christmas is so special? It’s because it’s the only day you can spend with your family when you don’t want to choke someone with a lump of coal.

  – Aunt Tillie feeling nostalgic in front of the Christmas tree

  Three

  Landon’s body was warm against mine when I woke the next morning, the sound of the snow blowing outside serving to lull me into a comfort coma. I considered falling back asleep. It was right there, after all. I could drift right back under. I didn’t feel completely rested.

  Instead I opened my eyes, hoping to get a brief glimpse through the window. I heard the wind whistling past the entire night and knew we were due for a big snow when we finally braved the day. Instead of looking at the window, I found myself staring at a blank wall.

  I blinked several times in rapid succession, my morning-muddled mind struggling to find something to hold onto. Even after thirty seconds of hard staring, my eyes traveling over a room I barely recognized, I knew that something was very wrong.

  I slid away from Landon, just far enough so I could turn my head and study his features. Part of me worried I’d wake up next to someone else – not because I was known for hopping into bed with others, but rather because I’d been cursed into a few odd scenarios that involved me opening my eyes and finding myself in strange places. Once I woke in a fairy tale world, in a bed owned by bears. No joke.

  I couldn’t hide my relieved sigh when Landon’s familiar face met my gaze.

  “It’s early,” Landon murmured, never opening his eyes. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Um … .” I didn’t know what to say. Blurting out, “We’re in someone else’s house” seemed the wrong way to go. Still, he needed to know. Of course, there was always the possibility this was a dream. That would be a nice change of pace given our last few mishaps.

  I pressed my eyes shut, sucked in a cleansing breath and prayed for sleep. If I could fall asleep, surely I would wake up in my own bed. After a few minutes of trying to force my mind to return to slumber I gave up and stared at the ceiling. There was something familiar about the room, something I couldn’t quite identify from my position. That didn’t mean I was happy about our predicament.

  “Landon?”

  “Sleep, sweetie.” Landon brushed a distracted kiss against my ear. “It’s Christmas. We can sleep as long as we want.”

  That sounded nice. Of course, it only sounded nice when I pictured doing it in my own bed.

  “Landon.” There was more urgency in my tone this time. “Open your eyes.”

  “You’re beautiful regardless, Bay,” Landon said. “I’m fine if you have bedhead all day.”

  That was something of a sore spot for me – I can never understand how he wakes up looking better than when he went to bed but I look as if a windstorm crashed through my hair – but now was not the time to focus on that.

  “Thank you for the compliment. I love hearing it.”

  “Good. You’re my pretty girl.”

  “That makes me sound like a dog.”

  “Ruff.” Landon made mock growling noises as he snuggled closer. He still hadn’t opened his eyes.

  I didn’t want to ruin the day for him. He told me weeks before, in a moment of weakness, about these big plans he had for us to do nothing but enjoy each other on Christmas Day. At the time it sounded romantic. Now, though, we had another issue scratching at the door.

  “Landon.”

  “Bay, if you want me to give you a present early I need to wake up.”

  It took me a moment to realize what he meant. “Oh, geez.” My stomach twisted. “Now is so not the time for a rousing game of naked monkeys jumping on the bed.”

  Landon snickered. “I’ve never really thought of it that way, but I’m always in the mood for naked monkeys … or morning cuddles.” As if to prove his point, he tightened his grip on me. “Now … go back to sleep. I just need fifteen more minutes.”

  “Really? Do you think fifteen minutes is going to make this situation better?”

  “What situation?”

  Here was the opening I was looking for. “We’re not in our bed.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where are we?” Landon sounded distracted, his hands busy as he rubbed them over my midriff.

  “Someone else’s bed.”

  “Are you playing a game? Are we in Santa’s bed?”

  “More like some random person’s bed.”

  “Oh, well … .” Landon finally wrenched open his eyes, his smile lazy until he took in the room. He bolted to a sitting position, letting loose with a string of curse words that would’ve put him on Santa’s naughty list in a heartbeat. “What the … ?”

  “Good morning, sunshine,” I drawled. “Welcome to another titillating round of ‘Where am I now?’”

  Landon’s mouth dropped open as he surveyed the room, frustration evident as it positively dripped from his pores. “Where are we?”

  “I have no idea, but there is something vaguely familiar about this room. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  Landon narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying we’re in some former boyfriend’s room?”

  That hadn’t even occurred to me. “Oh, well … .”

  “If some guy you used to date wanders in here, I’m not joking, I’m totally going to start throwing punches.”

  I tilted my head to the side as I pulled myself up, giving the room a more thorough scan. “I don’t think I ever dated anyone who slept in a room like this.”

  “Strangely enough, that doesn’t
make me feel better.” Landon tossed off the covers and hopped to his feet, coming to a complete halt when he stared down at his pajamas. “What is this?”

  I hissed out a sound halfway between a chuckle and a gasp as I studied his flannel pajamas. They were straight out of some Lifetime Christmas movie – red and green slashing patterns with happy snowmen decorating the fabric. “You look kind of cute,” I hedged.

  “I look like an idiot,” Landon countered. “I look like … .”

  “You’re really happy it’s Christmas,” I finished, sliding out of the bed and frowning at my own pajamas. They matched Landon’s almost exactly, except mine were adorned with mistletoe and odd little angels with demonic smiles on their faces. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Oh, it’s not so funny now, is it?” Landon scowled as he worked his way around the bed, glaring at the oak headboard. “This bed looks old.”

  “It’s an antique.”

  “Do you think we’re traveling through time again?”

  That was an interesting question and it had crossed my mind at least twice since I woke. Several months before, Aunt Tillie drew us into her memories when she was unconscious following an accident. Despite being agitated, Landon declared – once we were safely back in our time, of course – that he’d enjoyed the trip. Now, faced with another, he didn’t seem so certain.

  “I don’t know.” I moved to the closed door across the way and tested the handle. It turned without incident.

  “Did you think we were locked in here?” Landon asked.

  “I was just checking.”

  “You’d better hope this isn’t some ex-boyfriend’s house,” Landon muttered. “I can just see Aunt Tillie punishing us by bringing back every guy you used to love and throwing them in my face.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that. You’re the only guy I’ve ever loved.”

  Landon pursed his lips. “I wasn’t fishing … .”

  “You still caught the big one, though, right?” I teased.

  Landon’s chuckle caused me to settle a bit. The weird angels on my pajamas seemed to be staring, which made me uncomfortable, but the laughter relieved the ball of tension building in my stomach.

  “I needed that.” Landon rested his hand on my shoulder before reaching around me with his free hand. “Should we see what fresh hell Aunt Tillie has unleashed upon us this time?”

  “I think it’s funny that we both automatically assume Aunt Tillie did this to us,” I noted. “It could be a dream … or an evil curse from some other demented witch.”

  “We both know it’s Aunt Tillie.” Landon kept his body close to mine as he pushed open the door, his muscles taut and ready for action should something jump out. Wherever we were, the house remained calm and quiet. “Hmm.”

  Landon poked his head into the hallway, keeping a protective arm out to make sure I stayed behind him in case something horrible hopped out to eat us. When it didn’t happen, he dropped the arm and I moved up beside him.

  “Maybe we’re trapped in an empty house because she wants to teach us a lesson about abandoning family around the holidays,” Landon suggested.

  “She’s definitely trying to teach us a lesson.” I moved, flicking my eyes to a large painting on the hallway wall. “I don’t think we’re going to end up alone, though.”

  “Why is that?” Landon followed me, his eyes moving to the painting. His mouth dropped open when he realized we were looking at a bright landscape with a multitude of dancing witch silhouettes highlighting the wooded atmosphere. “I’ve seen this before.”

  “You have,” I confirmed, bobbing my head. “It’s in Aunt Tillie’s bedroom.”

  “So we’re in a Winchester house?” Landon rolled his shoulders as he swiveled to look back the way we came. “Wait a second … .” He recognized the hallway from our previous stroll down Winchester memory lane. “This is the old house you used to live in.”

  “It’s technically the same house,” I clarified. “It’s just gone through multiple renovations since this time period.”

  “And when is this time period?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but … .” I cast a glance back to the bedroom we vacated. “I’m pretty sure that’s the room I was born in.”

  That was another memory from Aunt Tillie’s mad trip to the past. Not many people can say they witnessed their own birth. I did, though. Landon was with me. He was gobsmacked and utterly charmed by the event. I was mostly grossed out because I was forced to look at my mother’s lady parts.

  “That is where you were born,” Landon confirmed, lacing his fingers with mine as he tugged me along the hallway. “That means the staircase is this way.”

  I had no idea why he was so excited to find the staircase. Descending to the main floor wouldn’t solve our predicament. If I knew Aunt Tillie – and I understood the way her mind worked better than most – there was no way we could climb out of this situation until she showed us exactly what she wanted us to see. And because she idles at difficult, she’d show us in the most annoying way possible.

  Landon was quiet as he led me down the stairs, his eyes keen when we hit the first floor. The entire place was decked out in Christmas decorations, although they weren’t the same ones I remembered from my childhood. These decorations were older, a little more worn around the edges. Still, I remembered a few pieces from my childhood.

  “Do you see that?” I stopped in front of the Christmas tree and pointed toward the fragile-looking star on the top.

  Landon remained close. “Yeah.”

  “That was my grandmother’s star.”

  “Do you think she’s still alive in this memory?”

  “Not necessarily. The star was around for a long time after she was gone.”

  “I didn’t see it on the tree this year.”

  “That’s because it was broken when we were kids,” I replied. “It was the first Christmas we shared under this roof after we all moved in together. Thistle and I were messing around and we accidentally broke it.”

  “Did you get in trouble?”

  “I expected to. We hid what we did at first, but Aunt Tillie had a meltdown when she couldn’t find the star, and eventually we had to own up to what we did.”

  Landon understood the sentiment tugging at my heart. “I know she loved your grandmother very much. It must’ve upset her to lose an important piece of your grandmother like that.”

  “She wasn’t angry as much as she was upset,” I replied, racking my memory for a picture of the day it happened. “She disappeared into her room for a long time. We thought she might kick us out of the house because of what we did – Thistle was all for that because they fought like crazy even then – but when Aunt Tillie returned she was fine.”

  “That doesn’t sound like her at all. She usually likes to teach you girls a lesson.”

  “She does, but she said something that day that I kind of forgot about until just now,” I said, rubbing my finger over my lip. “She said the holidays weren’t about things, but feelings. While she would miss the star, she said that she knew Grandma Ginger would be happy that it died a good death.

  “I didn’t understand what she meant by that,” I continued. “Then she said that Grandma always wanted us to grow up in the big house, so she would’ve been happy to sacrifice the star as long as it meant we were together as a family.”

  “Ah.” Realization dawned on Landon’s face. “Even though you said it multiple times, it’s just starting to sink in. I’m getting the feeling that Christmas is important to Aunt Tillie.”

  “It always has been.”

  “Which means she’ll punish us for wanting to be alone,” Landon mused, turning so he could look around the room. “It doesn’t look as if you guys are living here yet. There aren’t any toys lying around and there’s only one stocking hanging over the fireplace.”

  I followed his gaze, smiling when I saw the over-sized stocking hanging alone. It was big enough to fit a giant
and “Tillie” was emblazoned across the top.

  “She had that stocking for years,” I supplied. “She had ones made for Thistle, Clove and me, too. My mother had a fit because she thought they were overbearing, but now I think she likes them.”

  “I’ve seen the stockings,” Landon noted. “I also saw that someone put stockings up for Marcus, Sam and me this year. That was a nice touch. Your mother?”

  “Aunt Tillie.”

  Landon stilled. “Seriously? I didn’t think she liked me that much.”

  “She loves you even when she hates you. As for the stockings, that’s simply part of Christmas.” I felt a bit misty admitting it. “She really does love Christmas.”

  Landon slid a sidelong gaze to me. “I’m starting to think you do, too.”

  I shook myself out of my self-serving reverie. “I love Christmas. Halloween is still my favorite.”

  “Yeah, but you’re feeling guilty about agreeing to have a private Christmas party for just the two of us.”

  I balked. “No.”

  Landon arched a challenging eyebrow.

  “Okay, maybe a little bit,” I hedged. “It’s just … I can’t really remember Christmases before Aunt Tillie. That first one in this house – the Christmas right after our fathers left and Aunt Tillie took us in – was this black hole of depression until she stepped up and gave us a Christmas we could never forget.”

  “Was that the one where you got the dog?”

  “Sugar. She was a good dog. I cried for days when she died. So did Aunt Tillie.”

  “Bay, you should’ve told me that you wanted to spend Christmas with your family,” Landon said. “I thought you wanted to spend it with me.”

  “I do want to spend it with you.”

  Landon held his hands up. “I know you want to spend it with me. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. But you want to spend it with them, too.”