Page 14 of The Lone Wolf Café
“She made these blueberry scones this morning,” Rowena interrupted. She grabbed the plate off the counter and placed it next to the register. “Here, try one.”
I gulped when Juniper picked up a pastry.
Are you sure this is a good idea, Rowena? She’s going to know there’s no magic in them…
“My goodness, those are delicious!” Juniper exclaimed, happily helping herself to another bite. “We’ll have to write to Rune in Boston and let her know her replacement is giving her a run for her money.”
“Careful,” Rowena warned. “Rune will take offense and come marching back up to Maine to prove us wrong.”
Both witches chuckled, but I noticed once the laughter ceased, the awkward tension between them returned. I could feel it seeping into my own mind, flowing like river water between the three of us. It mystified and intrigued me, and I wondered what sort of history the two witches had with each other.
“Anyway, how much do I owe you for that scone?” Juniper asked.
Rowena waved her hand, as if shooing a fly away. “No charge. But be sure to tell the others about our new kitchen witch. We’ll have plenty of pastries to sell.”
“Of course!” Juniper exclaimed as she collected her tea purchase and handed Rowena a handful of coins. “I’ll be boasting about these scones to every witch in town!”
Juniper turned to me, and when I forced a smile, my mouth felt like it was made of rigid iron.
“And Nettie,” she said as she walked toward the front door. “Our coven is having an esbat on Tuesday. It was supposed to be on the new moon, but there was an incident, and… well, never mind. Anyway, it’s in the evening, shortly after nightfall. You are welcome to come. Everyone will be excited to meet you!”
New moon?That was a while ago.As a werewolf, I was just as much in tune with the moon cycles as witches were. I wondered what the ‘incident’ was that postponed it.
Whatever it was, based on Juniper’s tone, it didn’t sound good.
“Thanks,” I nodded, careful to show gratitude but not give a committal answer.
Juniper waved as she slipped out the door, and Rowena and I were once again alone.
“So…” I pressed my palms against my sides, cursing my dress for not having pockets. “I guess I’m the new kitchen witch now?”
Rowena nodded. I lowered my head.
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful…” I rambled nervously. “It’s just… I’m scared. Baking is my passion, and I do need the money, but it’s risky being here. If I’m found out…”
Rowena stepped towards me, stopping with mere inches of space between us. Her lavender perfume tickled my nose again, and I startled when she placed her slender fingers on my shoulder.
In the few hours of interaction I’d had with Rowena, we’d never made physical contact. On the contrary, she seemed keen on her personal space, always keeping her distance. Even through the cloth of my long-sleeve shirt, I could feel the faint warmth of her palm, and I remembered all the times I’d interacted with my father and sisters. Werewolves were a touchy-feely bunch, always sharing hugs and smiles. Those things came naturally to me.
To Rowena, it clearly didn’t, but it made the meaning behind her touch even more palpable. She was a strange witch, but for some mysterious reason, she was helping me. Giving me a job. Promising my safety. I looked up, and was hypnotized by the curve of her cheeks and depth of her dark eyes. Her gaze was firm, as if she’d known me for years, and on her barely-parted lips was a faint smile.
“I promise.” There was a grave heaviness to her voice. “I will not let anyone hurt you. You’ll be safe here. No one will find out your secret.”
Then, as swiftly and surprisingly as it began, Rowena removed her hand from my shoulder and walked back behind the counter. I was left standing there, even more perplexed than when she first offered me the job.
She cared for me. Someone she barely knew. And it wasn’t just her words that told me so – I could feel it in my own heart. When her fingers met my shoulder, it was like a conduit for her emotions to flow into me. Beneath her unassuming exterior, afierce, protective aura radiated from her soul – one I hadn’t felt so strongly since I was back on Hollenboro with my family.
But all I could decipher were emotions, not the meaning of them. And I had a feeling she knew things that I didn’t. Things she couldn’t tell me.
Now that I was the resident kitchen witch for The Lone Wolf Café, I was determined to be the best baker I could be. I wanted to fill the display cases every morning with my creations, only to watch them disappear into the hands of happy customers by the end of the day.
I had another goal, too. I watched Rowena as she fluttered around the kitchenette, boiling water and refilling the loose-leaf tea jars. I could tell she was in her element. She was happy.
She was also baffling. She’d initially been pissed I’d barged into her café, and from what I’d seen in the past few hours, her personality was reserved and quiet. Based on her interaction with Juniper, I assumed she kept her distance from others.
Despite all those things, she’d embraced me like an old friend, looked me dead in the eye, and swore my safety with the solemnity of a blood oath.
Rowena was a walking contradiction of a witch.
