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“My Jeep’s out front.”

“I’ll drive it into the river in a spot where it will never be found.”

I had to make a run for it. It was my only hope. I sent a silent message to Louella that I’d come back for her, and as soon as I could I darted toward the door. I was almost through it—so close—when I felt his hand once again clamp down on my arm. I spun and grabbed his free wrist as he was bringing it downward, squeezing it as hard as I could in hopes that he’d drop the syringe.

He didn’t.

I stomped, I kicked, I fought for my life.

But he was strong. So much stronger than he looked, and suddenly I realized that if I hadn’t made that healing potion for him that I might not be in this situation right now. That Haywood might have been alive.

I screamed. Screamed with regrets and fear and rage.

There was a tormented look in his eyes as he fought back.

“Hiiiisssssss!”

The noise came from behind me, and I startled. I knew that noise.

Haywood appeared and circled us, hissing repeatedly in Doc’s ear. I hadn’t felt him arrive by the usual method—a headache—because he’d already begun to fade away.

His killer had been found, and he was crossing over.

Once Gabriel realized it wasn’t me making the noise, he stiffened, his eyes wide.

“Hiiiissss!”

The noise grew weaker.

Haywood pointed to his eyes, his index and middle fingers in the shape of a peace sign. He made a poking motion, then hissed for all he was worth until he vanished completely.

Gabriel froze and looked around. I took advantage of his distraction, let go of his wrist, and poked him in the eye as hard as I could. He dropped my arm as he yowled, and I bolted. I sprinted down the hall, through the reception area, out the door, into the night filled with flashing blue and red cruiser lights, and straight into Dylan’s arms.

Chapter Twenty-five

T
he next afternoon, I was a witch on a mission as I backed out of my driveway in my Jeep and headed to a large house across town.

There was something I needed to do, and once it was done, maybe life would be able to start getting back to normal. Dylan hadn’t wanted me to go out alone, especially when I told him where I was going, but I finally convinced him.

It was a gorgeous fall day, all bright sunshine and soft breezes.

A perfect day for making new choices.

Glancing at the passenger seat, I reached over and patted Louella’s head. She bit my hand.

Yanking it back, I said, “That’s the thanks I get for saving your life.”

She growled.

The deputies on the scene last night had called in one of the vet techs to look after Louella. After a few IV bags, she’d been back to her old self and was sent home with me.

But she was still not eating.

And her bald patches were multiplying.

As I drove past Eulalie’s place, I spotted her in the garden. This morning she informed me that Mr. Butterbaugh was still in the hospital demanding tests, and that she had decided to limit her visits to once a day, fifteen minutes max.

Theirs was clearly not a love match.

Though . . . as I drove past Marjie’s inn, I decided not to write off the match altogether. Not yet. After all, if Marjie and Johnny could survive ten days on the high seas with each other, anything was possible. The pair was due home the next day, and I couldn’t wait to hear about their adventures . . . and to see with my own two eyes that each was alive and well.

Until then, I wouldn’t be quite convinced.

I turned left at a stop sign, wound through side streets, and slowed as I passed Haywood’s house. His actions the night before at the vet clinic came flooding back.

At first when I ran outside and had found Dylan and the deputies, I thought that Haywood had somehow led them to me, but it turned out he hadn’t.

Dylan had been led to the clinic by following the money trail. The blackmail scheme had been obvious in Gabriel and Idella’s bank reports. He’d called on Gabriel at home to question him further, only to be told by Idella that her husband was at the clinic.

With me.

It was hard to say whether or not I would have survived without Haywood’s help. Would I have been able to hold off Gabriel until Dylan and the deputies stormed the clinic?

I wasn’t sure, but I knew that with Haywood there, I’d been less afraid. His presence had brought a comfort that I wasn’t battling evil all alone. He’d been on my side.

In my eyes, he’d saved my life.

It had been a long night. By the time I made it home, Delia had been there waiting for me, oblivious to what had happened as she’d been running around town helping ghosts.

We’d talked long into the night, and come this morning, we both agreed to close our shops and take today to just be. Another form of hibernation. This time to heal.

I’d tried to stay put. I really had. But in the end, I couldn’t put off this trip any longer. Delia had understood.

I took one last look at Haywood’s house and drove onward, passing by the spot where Virgil had been killed, and also by Hyacinth’s house.

News had come that she was going to be okay in time, but would remain in the hospital for a while. I hated thinking of her missing Haywood’s funeral, but last night when she took those pills and drank that booze, she’d made her own choices. I’d heard through the grapevine that she’d admitted to her doctors that the guilt from taking Virgil’s life coupled with the loss of Haywood had been too much pain for her to bear. She was now getting the treatment she needed, and I hoped the news that she hadn’t been the one who’d run over Virgil would help her recovery.

Avery would be there, at the funeral. I’d called her this morning to tell her the time and also about the arrest of the man who’d killed her father.

She’d had news for me, as well. She’d heard from Haywood’s lawyer about his will. He’d had it changed several months ago, removing Hyacinth and adding Avery. She’d inherited his existing estate, and was going to file for ownership of the Ezekiel house as well.

After graduating in December, she planned to move to Hitching Post.

She wanted to do right by her daddy, and perhaps learn a bit more about her mama as well.

An added shocker was that Avery was graduating as a doctor of veterinary medicine and hoped to start her own clinic up here in Hitching Post, or join forces with Dr. O’Neill, who was likely to take over Gabriel’s share of the practice. All of that would be decided much later, after the dust settled around here.

As I drove along, her words from yesterday haunted me more than her father ever had.

He’s the only family I had left, and I barely got to know him.

But Haywood wasn’t the only family member left in Avery’s life, which was why I was on this mission in the first place.

Have mercy on my soul, I was going to see Patricia.

Choices.

Five minutes later, I rolled to a stop in front of Patricia’s rambling house, and spotted her out in the garden. Her head came up when she heard the car, and she peered at me under the wide brim of a straw gardening hat.

I fought a wave of nausea as I opened the Jeep’s door and crossed to the other side to open the door for Louella. She hopped down, and I grabbed the tote bag I’d brought along before heading through the gate at the side of the house.

“What are you doing here?” Patricia asked, her tone sharp.

“Making choices.”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t have time for this.”

“Make the time.” I walked over to a patio set under a pergola wrapped in climbing roses that still had a few blooms remaining, even this late into the season.

I set the tote bag on the table, reached inside, and pulled out a small can of dog food. I popped the top, removed a plastic spoon from the bag, and held both out to Patricia. “Please feed Louella. She’s starving herself to death, and you’re the only one I’ve seen who’s been able to get her to eat.”

She looked from me to the dog and back to me again and slowly took off her gardening gloves. After dropping them on the table, she took the food and spoon from me and sat down.

Louella immediately went to her side, pushing her face against Patricia’s leg. I sat down, too, watching and hoping.

Patricia dipped the spoon into the food, scooping some up, and brought it down close to Louella’s face.

I held my breath.

It took a moment, but eventually Louella’s tiny pink tongue darted out to taste the food. A second later, the spoon was licked clean and Patricia scooped up another teaspoonful.

“What happened to her fur?” she asked.

“She’s stressed-out.”

“A lot of that going around,” Patricia said, rubbing Louella’s head.

The dog didn’t so much as grumble, which told me that one of the choices I was making today was the right one.

“Sure enough,” I agreed, admiring the beauty of Patricia’s backyard, which overlooked the north fork of the Darling River. The water looked like a sparkling silver ribbon this time of day as it flowed toward town.

We sat in silence until Louella had finished the entire can of food. Patricia set the spoon aside and lifted up the dog, settling her in her lap.

I tugged the tote bag over and started unpacking it. “I think everything you need is in here.”

“Need for what?”

“Toys, food, a spare leash,” I listed. “Her dog bed is in my Jeep. I’ll grab it for you when I head out.”

“Carly, what are you talking about?”

“You adopting Louella, of course. I mean, look at her. She loves you. Adores you.” I took a deep breath. “Even though you aren’t her original owner, she knows you’ll love her like she’s always been yours alone. It’s what you do for those you adopt.”

A wash of tears filled her blue eyes. “You know.”

“About Dylan’s parentage?” I asked, not wanting to play games. “Yes.”

“Does Dylan know?” she asked, sounding like her heart was being ripped from her chest.

“Not yet.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“Yes, but he thinks I’m just dropping off Louella.” He’d wanted to come with me, and it took everything I had to convince him not to. I needed to have this conversation with Patricia alone.

“He cannot find out.” She shook her head and gave me the evil eye. “This, Carly Bell Hartwell, is exactly why I never wanted you around him. You and your witchy ways. I knew you’d somehow figure out my secret and ruin his life.”

Feeling as though I’d just been punched, I leaned back. “That’s what your contempt for me has been about all these years? Not about my magic or my housekeeping or my family, but your
secret
?”

“I’ve known your family a long time, Carly. Adelaide, Neige, Augustus, Delia . . . Your magic is different. Special. I saw it when you were little, and I see it now. I don’t know the extent of your abilities, and I didn’t want to get close enough to you to find out. I didn’t want Dylan close to you, either. Don’t you understand? I had to protect him at all costs.”

“He doesn’t need protection from me,” I protested.

“Clearly he does if you’re sitting here, telling me he should be informed about something that will destroy his life.”

“How?” I asked. “How will it destroy anything? If nothing else, it might help him to understand your bizarre behavior. It sure helped me.”

“This isn’t about you,” she snapped. “It’s about him learning that a man he idolized wasn’t so perfect.”

“Is it?” I asked. “Couldn’t it be that you’re more afraid he’ll walk away from you forever if he knows you’re not his birth mother? Especially with the way you’ve behaved the past few years?”

A crow cawed in the distance. “Go to hell.”

“No, thanks. I’ve been there these past couple of days, and I don’t care to go back. I spoke with Avery Bryan yesterday, and she’ll be attending Haywood’s funeral tomorrow.”

She gasped. “She doesn’t know . . .”

“Not yet,” I said. “But she needs to know, same as Dylan.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Dylan’s her brother,” I said. “The only family she has left.”

She sniffed. “Half brother.”

“As if that makes a difference,” I said, rolling my eyes. “She’s moving up here in December.”