Page 9 of Carnal Magic
Shaking my head, I slowed down as I entered the town’s limits. Evidently Saturday was a popular day to come to town for everybody. Cars and trucks lined the main road, and I had to stop a few times while someone backed out into traffic. Of course the grocery store was on the opposite end of the main strip.
Even though I’d had delicious food appear at my door like clockwork, I was determined to have some of my own foods handy in case whatever or whoever was delivering said food stopped without explanation. I pulled intoSteve’s Rod & Gun, shaking my head at the name. Sure enough, the grocery store offered a triple whammy in one stop. Pick up bait, buy a gun, and carry out all the liquor and groceries you could want.
Somehow I didn’t think they’d thought that through very well.
I passed the bait and gun areas, but I did stop for a couple of bottles of wine to have for dinners. The store was full of people, and yes, everyone stopped and stared at me as I walked past. So much that I paused a moment and checked to make sure that yes, I did in fact have clothes on.
Maybe my all-black outfit was too goth for this area, but I hadn’t brought much to choose from. Black jeans and sweater, because I thought it might be chilly by the time I got back to the cabin, and I didn’t want to wear the skirt I’d arrived in. My leggings had leaves and dirt on them, plus snags from thorns. I’d have to look for Martha’s laundry room if I was going to stay much longer. Or go shopping. Normally I would have leaped at the chance to shop, but I wasn’t sure what I’d find in such a small town.
People whispered as I passed them. I stopped and turned, looking at two women roughly Mr. Woodward’s age, and opened my mouth to ask if I could help them. They paled and immediately whirled around to head in the opposite direction.
Shaking my head, I went to the bakery section and picked up some sourdough and a couple of crispy baguettes. I could never have enough bread, especially if I was going to have wine. Naturally I headed to the cheese area next, hoping they had more than cheddar to choose from.
A woman faced me as I neared the dairy aisle rather than quickly turning away like the others. She was younger, I thought, though it was hard to be sure since she was dressed very conservatively. Her hair was pulled back in a simple bun. She wore a very proper blouse and cardigan, both buttoned up to her chin. A long, straight skirt hung past her knees. She wore a large crucifix around her throat and clutched her purse against her midsection like she thought I’d rob her if given the chance.
“Hello,” she said, glancing around everywhere except my face.
Mama always said I had a petty streak a mile wide. So I didn’t say anything in response—not until she looked me in the eye. “Hello,” I finally said, my lips curling with sly amusement.
Her eyes widened and she gulped. “Miss Redwine?”
I inclined my head slightly and held out my hand. “Arwena.”
She stared at my hand like it was a poisonous snake and finally lightly touched her fingertips to mine, only to yank her hand back hurriedly.
“And you are?” I said slowly, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I got that I was a stranger. I understood this was a small town. But they didn’t have to act like I murdered kittens and kicked puppies for fun.
“Ingrid.” She licked her lips nervously. “Will you be here Sunday? You could… I mean you… Er… Well…”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” another woman retorted as she stomped closer, daring to bump the other woman with her buggy. “No, Ingrid, she doesn’t want to go to your church.”
The other woman drew herself up proudly. “I’m only doing my Christian duty, Corrine. It wouldn’t hurt you to come to church once in a while either.”
Corrine snorted and gave me a friendly nudge with her shoulder. “I’d sooner march down Main Street nekkid on Christmas morning. Besides, you know full well no Redwine is going to your holier-than-thou cult. They’re witches, for fuck’s sake. Now leave the poor girl alone.”
My eyes widened. Ah. Things were starting to make a little more sense now. I should have known by Martha’s extensive collection of books, herbs, and paraphernalia that everyone in Sweetbriar knew, or at least suspected, that my great grandmother was a witch, and by association, so was I.
Unconsciously, I’d toned down my normal witchy persona. I didn’t wear a single crystal or my usual pentagram for protection. I hadn’t even thought about it, though now I wished I’d put crystals in my bra so I could throw one at Ingrid and see how high she’d jump.
Arching a brow, I gave her a slow head-to-toe perusal as if I was trying to decide which part of her body to use for depravity first.
She flushed beet red and clutched the neckline of her blouse, backing away. “Sunday,” she babbled frantically. “Services start at ten.”
I watched her hurry away and then turned to Corrine. Sixty years old and plump with thick curly gray hair that seemed to have a life of its own, she beamed at me like I was her long-lost granddaughter. A sudden wave of emotion crashed through me, bringing tears to my eyes. She reached up and patted my cheek. “Oh yes, I’d know you anywhere, dear. You look just like her.”
“You knew Martha?”
She nodded. “Rebekah was my best friend in high school. Thick as thieves we were, until she left home. I kept in touch with her off and on over the years, and we always traded Christmas cards. Then they stopped coming. I knew what that meant. Jessie called me when she saw you at Woodward’s and said you were the spitting image of Martha and Rebekah both.”
The lady across from the law firm. I thought she’d been on the phone. I laughed, shaking my head. “Was she your spy?”
Corrine preened smugly, tucking a curl back behind her ear. “There’s only one thing you need to know about a town like Sweetbriar Hollow.” She said it the same way as Drew,Sweetbar Holler.“Everybody knows everybody else’s business. And yes, everybody in town is a spy. Especially when a Redwine comes to town.”
I wanted to ask her about the food just appearing—though I didn’t know how to word it to a stranger without sounding crazy. Had she ever seen that happen for Martha or Rebekah? Was it mundane—perhaps the Woodwards somehow bringing food as a prank?
“It’s too bad that you missed the fall festival last night. All the kids were dressed up and Main Street was lined with booths.” Corrine leaned closer, giving me a conspiratorial wink. “When a Redwine comes, it’s the most talked about event of the year. Hopefully you’ll be able to make it next year.”
“High praise,” I laughed, shaking my head. “I doubt I’ll be here that long, though.”
