Page 34 of The Witch's Rite
“Not at all. She’s happy as could be. Pretty much has the run of the cottage with Harrison right now.”
Lydia giggles at that, and I’m relieved to see the anger gone from her expression.
“I’m... really surprised by all this,” she says, sitting back in her chair and holding her teacup on the table in both hands. “Honestly, after Belinda, I wasn’t sure Alden would put himself out there again. I never would’ve expected him to be okay with something like this.”
“I didn’t either,” I tell her truthfully. “I told him the morning after Beltane—I was so afraid he was going to leave right then and there. And I would’ve understood...” My stomach turns with the thought of losing Alden, of not being able to cuddle up in his warm arms or watch the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. The idea of hurting him in any way is physically painful to me. “But he didn’t. And somehow... we’re making it work. There’s still some tension, but he and Rowan are getting along, even working together. They made great progress on the coop yesterday. Alden said he’s going to work on it today too. Speaking of...” I finish off the rest of my rose tea, then set the cup on its saucer. “I should probably head back. I want to help him today if I can.”
When I stand from the table, my head spins, and I have to reach out and steady myself using the tabletop.
What’s happening to me?
“Aurora?” Lydia stands from the table and reaches out to place her hand over mine. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just stood up a bit too fast.” Taking a deep breath, I allow myself a moment to just breathe, and the spinning subsides. “See?” I glance up at Lydia and find her face scrunched in concern. When she looks at me like that, she reminds me of Alden.
“All right...” She doesn’t sound convinced, but she leans back from the table and runs a hand over her brown curls. “Oh! I just remembered that Tom stopped by. He’s been having some trouble at the pumpkin patch and wondered if you might be able to help, you know, being an earth witch and all.”
Happy for the change in topic, I flash Lydia a smile. “I’d love to. I’ll head by there before going home.”
I pick my wicker basket up from the floor beside the table and slip it back into the crook of my elbow. Lydia follows me to the door, and she smells warm and comforting when she pulls me into a hug.
“If you need anything, you know where I am,” she says.
“Thanks, Lyd.”
Her eyes sparkle at my use of her nickname, and she raises a hand and waves goodbye as I head out of the mercantile. The pumpkin patch is at the south side of town, just past the library. More people are out and about now; I see Welma unlocking the library, then wave to Harry as he scurries by on his way to deliver the post. Every day that passes makes me feel more at home here.
I pass the library, and my gaze immediately falls upon Tom’s pumpkin patch. It’s a beautiful sprawling thing, with messy green vines and little pumpkins just starting to develop. It’ll be some time yet before they’re ready for harvest, but I’m already looking forward to all the baking and cooking I’ll be able to do with the fresh orange fruit: baked pumpkin seeds, pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pumpkin soup. The options are endless.
I’m still lost in my pumpkin thoughts when I catch sight of Tom. He’s crouched down in the center of the pumpkin patch, looking closely at one of the vines. It doesn’t appear that he’s noticed me yet.
“Good morning,” I call out softly as I pause at the edge of the patch. The vines are sprawling everywhere, and I don’t want to step on any of them.
Tom looks in my direction and shields his eyes against the early-morning sun. “Oh, Aurora. I was hoping to see you soon.” He stands and dusts the knees of his trousers off, then heads in my direction.
“Lydia said you were having some kind of trouble,” I say as he approaches me.
Heaving a sigh, Tom removes his floppy cap and scratches his brown-haired head. “That might be an understatement.” After slapping his hat back on, he gestures at the patch. “I’m afraid I might lose the whole crop. Something’s eating the vines, but I can’t figure out what it is for the life of me.”
I narrow my eyes at the closest vines but can’t see any damage. “May I?” I ask.
“By all means. Come this way—I’ll show you the worst of it.”
I follow Tom through the patch, picking my way carefully around the young pumpkins and green vines. We pause where Tom was just a moment before, and I kneel to inspect the vine in question.
Sure enough, it’s been eaten almost all the way through. This vine is already starting to shrivel up and die off, and if the damage continues to the other plants... Well, I can see why Tom is worried. And it would be such a disappointment not to have a pumpkin patch to enjoy this year. The harvest festival certainly wouldn’t be the same without it, nor would our celebration of Samhain.
I inspect the plant, and given the type of damage, I’m inclined to think some sort of insect is causing the problem.
“Have you seen any bugs?” I ask.
Tom shakes his head. “None that I haven’t dealt with before. But this... I’ve no idea what’s causing it.”
Once more, I look at the vine, turn it this way and that in my fingers. Then I go to the leaves, lifting them up, searching for any bugs that may be hiding from the heat of the day. Alas, I find nothing.
“Does the damage happen overnight?” I ask.
“Seems so. Each morning I come out, it’s worse than before.”
