Page 31 of Bewitched By the Headless Horseman
Her mom answered, her arms folded, and her red lips set in a tight line. “This fog’s getting out of hand, isn’t it?” She was obviously in a damper mood and Stevie knew why. And it had nothing to do with the fog.
“Gideon told you, didn’t he?” Stevie frowned, gritting her teeth. “He’s four years older than me and gossips like a junior high kid, I swear!”
“He’s not telling anyone else that you have aguestat your house. Why didn’t you tell me that the ghost stalker was theHeadless Horseman?” her mom hissed.
“Your heart for one.”
“My heart is fine. Please don’t start treating me like a fragile piece of glass.”
“I promise I won’t.” Stevie’s face softened, guilt washing over her. “Besides, I told you everything except his identity.”
With a sigh, her mom wrapped her arms around Stevie and gave her a tight hug. “You’re forgiven.”
“How did Dad take the news?” She wasn’t concerned about her dad since he’d never batted an eyelash with any paranormal dramatics that went on in Sleepy Hollow.
Her mom released Stevie and stepped back. “Your father takes things better than I do. Which is still surprising to me.”
Stevie nodded and passed her mom the package. “Kit’s not the demon rider everyone believes him to be. He’s in the car if you want to offer any words.”
“And you didn’t start off by saying he’sherewith you?”
Stevie waved toward Kit to get out of the car, and the stubborn man just sat there. He finally listened when she frantically waved again, sauntering toward her, the fog caressing his strong thighs. She swallowed deeply at the way his muscles flexed against his shirt, his assured movements, and she whirled back to face her mom before heat crept into her cheeks.
Fawning over Kit in front of her mom was too awkward. But that wasn’t what she was doing—she was only admiring the human, orghostly, anatomy.
Stevie’s mom cocked her head, her eyes narrowing at where she thought the Headless Horseman now stood, but she was like two feet off. “I swear, if you’re fucking with my family, you fuck with me, Horseman.”
He let out a low whistle. “I see where you inherited your way of threatening from, Pumpkin.”
Stevie rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “He said he likes you.”
“You have to earn my trust before I return the favor,” she warned Kit.
“So, Mom, I do have a question before I leave,” Stevie started. “I was wondering if you’ve ever crossed paths with anything that might stick out about the Headless Horseman. Anything that the witches or the residents here might not know.”
Stevie’s mom tapped her index finger against her chin. “Have you gone to the old cemetery? And I mean theoldone where it’s believed the Horseman was originally buried. Maybe some lingering ghosts have more information.”
Both an obvious and good suggestion. “Seems I have a little trip to make.”
“Be careful.” Her mom pursed her lips.
“Don’t worry, I have my handy-dandy, sword-wielding Horseman with me if I need to scare anyone off.”
Chapter Twelve
Stevie slowed the car as she approached the cemetery, the fog curling around the old headstones, but she didn’t pull into the parking lot. A tour was taking place at the moment, which she hadn’t thought about. They weren’t tourists, but instead three buses of junior high kids. No visitors would be allowed to sneak a peek until after a couple more groups of private tours.
“So I guess we’ll come back tonight when the tour sessions are closed?” She watched a teacher snap his fingers in front of a small group of kids, telling them to pay attention.
“That’s fine.” Kit sat rigid in his seat, his neck partially turned as he stared out the window. Even with three buses of school kids, more dead than living roamed around the cemetery. It normally wasn’t this much of a hot spot for ghosts, but they must’ve already started to gather early, anxious for when the second Eye opened so they could chat with the living when they showed up.
Stevie studied Kit, who hadn’t moved from his position. “Are you reminiscing? You said this was where you were buried.” It had been rumored the Headless Horseman was buried out there, but no one knew which grave really belonged to him. Someone else had to have known if they’d unburied his bones though.
“No.” He sighed. “Someone I know lingers there is all.”
Stevie reached out to tug Kit to face her, but of course her hand slipped through him. “You mentioned a fortune-telling witch helped you but passed on. So who else do you know out there?”
“No one,” he grumbled.
