Page 10 of The Heartbreak Hex

“I didn’t know that,” I say, surprised. This is the first I’m hearing about it. “Is it just this year?”

“Oh, the same bet happens every year,” the witch assures me. “It has created a somewhat unfriendly rivalry between all the farmers. Things get pretty competitive behind the scenes”

“And how do you know this?”

“Oh, all of them have tried bribing me to make them a growing potion and not the others at some point.” Gertrude grins.

I love her smile and how easily she gives them to me. It lightens my whole day. “That’s against the rules,” I point out as we turn a corner. We should almost be at the atrium with all the pumpkins. “The contest clearly states that the pumpkin entered into the contest has to be organic and magic-free.”

“Oh, I know. I told them that I’d either give all of them a potion or none of them. Which made them grumble, but no one can say that I’m not being fair.”

“Well, I guess this all adds an additional level of pressure to me,” I tease.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Gertrude assures me. “They each sell all of their pumpkins every year. No one’s losing the farm over this bet, it’s just a prestige thing.”

With her words, we’re at the atrium and I hold open the glass doors for Gertrude to walk through. She gives me a little smile and a wink before walking through and I swear I feel my heart flutter. How can she be so perfect?

The farmers in the atrium sit in tense silence as we enter, sitting in little factions in each corner. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. It’s obvious that some (most likely) unfriendly words have been said before we showed up. It happens every year, but at least now I know why it’s such a big deal to them. Sheesh, who knew that they have a standing bet riding on this? Eight absolutely gigantic pumpkins are already in a row in the middle of the courtyard, ready to be judged. All ofthem look the same to me, but I would never voice that thought out loud. It’d cause a riot.

Well, time to get the ball rolling. “Welcome, everyone,” I say, turning on the charm, “to the annual City Hall Pumpkin Picking! We appreciate you all for participating and taking the time to be here. Halloween is just around the corner and we need to get City Hall looking festive in time for the ball. So, let’s . . .”

“Wait a minute,” Silas, one of the farmers says, “What’s Gertrude doing here?”

There’s a mumble through the gathered farmers, repeating the question. Technically, as Halloween Mayor, I’m supposed to do the judging and picking alone. The change is making the farmers uneasy.

Thinking fast, I take Gertrude’s hand and pull her forward, saying, “Ms. Nightshade is here in an official capacity. She’ll be, uh . . . testing the pumpkins to make sure no one’s used a growing potion.”

A little furor erupts at my words.

“Are you calling us cheaters?”

“Well, I never!”

“Growing potions? Just do the judging!”

“There’s never been an inspector before!”

“If no one’s used a growing potion, then there’s no need to argue about Ms. Nightshade’s inspecting them,” I say firmly and loudly enough to cut above the din. “Anyone that doesn’t want their pumpkin checked by Ms. Nightshade is free to exit the competition.”

That silences the grumbles, but all the farmers give each other stony stares, before shrugging.

“She can check mine,” Silas says finally. “I ain’t got nothin’ to hide.”

“Alright, then let’s begin,” I say, stepping forward. I realize that I’m still holding Gertrude’s hand and reluctantly let it go.I’m acting in the capacity of mayor, after all. I need to be professional.

At the first pumpkin, Gertrude and I stop tooohandaahover the gourd appropriately, soothing the ruffled feathers from before. We start checking it all around and when we both bend over to check the bottom Gertrude mumbles to me, “Could have given a witch a little warning, Mr. Mayor. Now I’m going to be on all their bad lists.”

“Sorry,” I murmur back. “It was all I could think of to explain your presence.”

Gertrude gives me an understanding smile and then turns back to the pumpkin. Suddenly she frowns. She rubs her finger along the thick rind of the squash and then sticks it in her mouth, making a bitter face.

“Ummm . . .” she whispers. “This is a little awkward . . .”

“What is it?”

She gives me a wry look before whispering, “This onediduse a growing potion.”

“What?” I say, stunned. When I made up the reason Gertrude was here, I didn’t think she’d actually be necessary. “Are you sure?”

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