Kate Hoffmann - Spellbound

“All right,” he said, shaking his head. “Go ahead.”

“Kelsey Quinn over at the Thistle and Thorn says she’s got a disgruntled spouse who’s giving her problems. I think you ought to get over there right away. And tell her I’ll be in for my gout tea later this afternoon. 10-4. Over and out. Bye-bye.”

He looked up at Kelsey and she winced. “So you’re him,” she said. “The new police chief.”

Will nodded and held out his hand. “Will Ross. Yes, I’m the new police chief here in town.”

She placed her fingers in his and felt a current of desire race through her body like an electric shock.

He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

“So who sent you?” Kelsey asked, her fingers still curled around his.

Will was reluctant to break the contact. His heart was beating so fast he could almost hear it through his shirt and canvas jacket. He wasn’t surprised at his body’s reaction. Once he’d decided to move out of Boston, his on-again off-again girlfriend had turned the switch permanently to off on their relationship. It had been a while since he’d even touched a woman.

“The village board. They think you’re perpetrating a fraud upon some of the citizens of Barstow Ferry.”

“I’m not. What I do here is legitimate. I’m an herbalist and a holistic healer and trained in ayurvedic medicine. I have a degree in psychology and I’m a certified acupuncturist.” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s going to take a lot more than a visit from you to run me out of town.”

Will slowly drew his hand away from hers and caught her gaze. “Can we sit down and talk? Maybe there’s a way to resolve this problem? You seem to be a reasonable person and I’m certainly open to exploring a compromise.”

“I was just going to have some tea,” she said. “Would you like a cup?”

Will really wasn’t a tea kind of guy, but what the hell. If it meant he could spend a few more minutes getting to know the town witch, then he’d drink puddle water and enjoy it. “Yeah, a cup of tea would be nice.”

She led him back to a small alcove at the rear of the store. It might have been the spot that housed the parts counter in the old filling station. Her small tearoom was beautifully decorated with dried flower garlands and pretty fabrics.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, disappearing through another door.

Will picked up a book sitting in the center of the table. It was an antique text on herbology, filled with hand-tinted illustrations. Tucked in between the pages were tiny dried flowers. He picked up a pressed violet and examined it carefully.

She returned carrying a tray with tea and cookies. “Violets,” she said. “They’re used for laxative purposes.”

“Good to know,” he murmured, putting the flower back into the book. “So tell me, how did you get into this line of work?”

“How did I become a witch?” she asked. “That’s what you’re asking, isn’t it?”

“Are you a witch?” Will asked.

She gave him an enigmatic smile that he found endlessly attractive. God, she was all sorts of pretty. Her auburn hair fell around her shoulders in a tumble of thick waves, and long lashes ringed eyes of a strange but fascinating teal color. “That’s what people call me. But most witches in early times were healers. That’s what I am.”

“And how did you get your healing…powers?”

“I inherited them from one of my ancestors, Bridie Quinn. She came here in 1880 with her daughter from a town downstate. Her daughter, Moira, gave birth to my great-grandfather. The powers only pass to the females in the family, though, so my daughters will have the power, but my sons won’t.”

“You have children?”

She shook her head. “No, no, I’m not married.”

“Good,” he said.

She blinked in surprise. “Good?”

His radio squawked again and Will sent her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. The job calls.” He slowly stood. “I should really go. Maybe I could stop by again…or maybe we could grab some dinner? Tonight?”

He could see suspicion in her gaze, the flicker of doubt. Will held his breath. It had been a casual invitation, but now he really hoped she’d say yes. Of all the citizens in Barstow Ferry, Kelsey Quinn was the one he wanted to get to know a lot better.

“All right,” she finally said. “Why don’t you pick me up at about six?”

“Here?”

“My place. Lenore can give you directions.”

Will smiled, then nodded. “All right then. It’s a date.” He paused. “Well, not a date. It’s a…plan.” He headed toward the door, satisfied that his first official call had gone better than expected. Hopefully the evening would follow suit.

Kelsey smoothed her hands over the front of her vintage dress as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Which was silly. There was no need to be nervous. It wasn’t as if the dinner was a real date. Will Ross just wanted to talk to her about her business. And if she could charm him, then maybe she could bring him over to her side.

Her breath caught in her throat. Was that what she really wanted? Life in upstate Maine was pleasant enough, yet there were times when she couldn’t bear the loneliness, times when she wanted to just pack up and leave. And yet, she had people who depended upon her, people who believed that she was the only person who could heal them.

She had never really been sure whether her efforts actually helped. Most of her customers had regular doctors and used conventional medicines. But for some reason, they believed that her remedies held the key to their good health, so she was committed to doing what she could.

But if push came to shove, would they really choose her help over traditional medicine? Maybe she ought to start thinking about her own happiness instead of everyone else’s. Maybe she should leave and find a place where she wasn’t known as the town witch.

But Barstow Ferry was the only home she’d really known. It was the source of her power, the place that her ancestors’ spirits lived. The family home she now owned was here, as was the business she’d inherited from her great-aunt. She was the last of her family line, the last female descendant of Bridie Quinn, the powerful Irish witch. If she left, would she lose everything that made her special?

Kelsey hurried out of the bathroom to the kitchen, then checked the bubbling pot on the stove. She’d found the recipe for the persuasion potion in the old leather-bound journal she’d inherited from great-aunt Tizzy. It contained all of Bridie’s magic, carefully written out with recipes and incantations and counter-spells.

Though in theory she should have inherited Bridie’s powers, Kelsey had never considered herself a full-fledged witch. She knew the calming and healing qualities of plants, but she couldn’t affect someone’s behavior by just chanting a few words. She couldn’t blink her eyes and wiggle her nose and change the course of events.

The potion’s recipe was complicated, and Kelsey wasn’t sure it would work, but if she ever needed a little help persuading someone to her cause, now was the time.

She ladled a small measure of the potion into one of the glasses, then added ice and lemonade, before preparing a drink for herself.

None of the herbs were dangerous. In fact, she’d used them all for various remedies. But this combination was supposed to work on a man’s mind, to make him more open to the power of suggestion.

Will Ross was on a mission, determined to put her out of business. And she was just as determined to win him over. This was her livelihood, she had to use any weapon available to her, and if it took a little herbal concoction, then that was fair, wasn’t it?