Bewitching My Love (26 page)

“
Thank you, sister Abigail.” Mary rejoiced inside. Jonathan was pure, she knew it. “So our sister from the future must die for all things to be correct! Is it not strange, the way our roads lead us?.”

“
Aye Sister Mary, it is.” Abigail answered, her voice mingling with those of the sisters as they all agreed.

* * * *

Dawn grew near and Fern had lost her battle with fear. Rowen said he would be back to rescue her, but never showed up. It could only mean that he was either captured or lying somewhere hurt, or even dead. Refusing to believe the latter, she pushed the thought from her mind. He was out there somewhere, waiting, she just knew it. He wouldn’t let her down.

Sitting down next to the wall she waited. When the first rays of sunshine blanketed the dirt floor of her cell, she knew it was almost time. And when she heard the commotion outside, she knew it was time. They were here to take her, to hang her, and Rowen still had not come. She still sat when Judge Hauthorn’s face beamed at her from behind the bars of her cell.

“
Open the door, guard,” Judge Hauthorn ordered. After the door stood open, he waited for the girl to stand. “It is time, Mary Wilds. Have ye a confession prepared for the good people of our village?”

“
No, and you shall never hear one from my lips. My name is not Mary Wilds, it is Fern Abbott, and you are making a grave mistake.” Fern held tight to her place on the floor determined not to let them take her easily.

“
It is thy grave that I seek, Mary Wilds.” Turning, he spoke his orders once again. “Guard, bring her to gallows hill.”

Fern grabbed handfuls of straw, throwing them at the guard as he advanced. But it was a futile gesture, the man easily subdued her then bound her hands behind her back before she could scream a second time. The brightness of the sun blinded her for a moment once she was pulled from the dungeon. She didn’t have time to focus before she was thrown into the back of a waiting wagon for the trip up the hillside. Her eyes focused first on the children that ran behind the wagon, yelling, calling her a witch. Then on the women following their angered husbands as they made their way behind the children. She didn’t care what these people thought of her, she only wanted to see one face amongst them, and his wasn’t there.

Trembling, she turned. There in the distance stood the largest tree she’d ever seen. A noose swung in the morning breeze, and Judge Hauthorn was waiting to the side, a grin on his face.
Oh Rowen, where are you?

Rowen raced from one tree to the next, ducking behind boulders and bushes along the way. Jonathan was already there, somewhere in the crowd with Sarah. If their plan worked, he would have Fern free soon, and they would go home. From his point he couldn’t see Fern’s face but he wished he could. If they could just look into each other’s eyes, she would know he was there. He’d taken some practice shots last night to make sure his pistol was right on, and it was perfect. Now all he had to do was wait. He’d give anything to take Fern’s place, to take away her fear.
Soon my love, it’ll all be over soon.
Taking aim, he held his breath.

“
Why did ye bring thy child to such a scene as this, Sarah?” Jonathan stood next to Sarah waiting for the moment he’d been anticipating. Soon, he would no longer call her his wife.

“
My son has a right to witness his father’s whore’s death,” Sarah replied.

“
No more lies, Sarah. He is not my son, and today ye will repent for thine own indiscretions.” He felt her stiffen next to him.

“
No matter, Mary will be dead and I will still be married to you. Maybe she will call out thy name for all to hear. Then you can die next to her on the gallows and I will be free to marry his true father.” Walking forward, she left him to stare after her. Raising her son upon her chest, she woke him to witness the execution.

Fern’s heart pounded against her ribs painfully. The wagon had stopped and the gate had been opened. A guard waited for her to step down, but she couldn’t move. Her fingers dug into the wooden slats, and she didn’t feel the splinters as they dug into her soft flesh. She only cried out when he pulled her fingers back to free her from the wagon. “Let me go, I am not a witch, can’t you see that? If I was, I’d turn you into a jackass.”

Rowen heard her from the distance and tried not to laugh. “That’s my girl.” He was ready; he wouldn’t miss.

The guard pushed Fern up to the podium underneath the noose and started to pull a canvas sack over her head, but she shoved him away. “I’ll see your face before I die, and know this, I’ll haunt you in your dreams.”

Judge Hauthorn stepped forward and stood before Fern, facing the crowd. “Mary Wilds has refused to confess her witchcraft to the good people of Salem Village. Today, she will hang for her sins.” Turning back around, he nodded to the guard, then smiled up at Fern. “Thy death will be a lesson to this village. Witchcraft will not be tolerated.”

“
Soon, the truth about your own lies will be heard. How will you answer to your village then, Judge Hauthorn?” Fern stood on tiptoe as the noose was strung around her neck. She scanned the crowd one last time, screaming his name “Rowen!” The noose tightened, her breath caught in her throat, and her toes left the podium as it was pushed out from underneath her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Rowen took aim and pulled the trigger, slicing the rope perfectly in two. The loud bang brought all eyes his way, so they didn’t notice that the girl they believed to be Mary Wilds was now lying on the ground, gasping for air.

Jamming his pistol into his coat pocket, Rowen ran past the confused crowd to where Fern was now sitting on the dirt trying to get the rope loose from her neck. “Thank God you’re alright.” Grasping her hands, he loosed the rope, pulling it free from her neck. Hugging her tight, he kissed her forehead. “We don’t have any time, we must leave now. Come on love, I know where the wardrobe is.” Pulling her to her feet he ran with her until they were past the crowd. All eyes were on them, but none seemed brave enough to try and stop them, save one.

“
Halt Mary Wilds!” Judge Hauthorn held his pistol to the sky and shot. “Halt I say, or I will be forced to shoot you.”

Fern turned around slowly, giving the judge enough time to let his eyes settle on her before speaking. Smiling, she released Rowen’s hand and took a few steps toward him. “Aye, I will stop my worship, but only if ye can call me by my rightful name in front of thy devoted people of Village Salem.”

Rowen knew this woman was not Fern, or was she? “Fern, we must go.” He took a few steps backward when she looked at him. This woman looked like Fern, beautiful with serene eyes, but she wasn’t Fern. “Who are you?” He watched in dismay as she approached the judge. Not even the crowd could take their eyes off her, or prevent her from her mission. Scanning the crowd he spotted Jonathan and their eyes locked briefly, questions flying between them. He jerked back around when Fern…the woman spoke again.

“
If it will please my worship, I can remind you of my name.” She’d by now reached Judge Hauthorn’s side and stood staring up into his eyes. She saw then that he did recognize her, a thrill ran up her spine. “Shall I speak it?”

Judge Hauthorn stepped back when her soft flesh made contact with his. Her small fingers gentle on his cheek. “Do not touch me woman, tis impossible for ye to be here. Where have ye taken Mary Wilds? She must hang for her sins today.”

“
Do not be a fool, James Hauthorn. Our daughter will not die today, nor shall I. And, nor shall our granddaughter Rose. It is time to face thy own judgment for all your years of deceit to thy people and to thy family. Ye have known this day would come.” Reaching out, she waited for him to place his hand into hers. But still, he delayed.

“
I will not go with you, Elizabeth. I cannot.. I, have committed myself here to this village, to another. We had a bargain, you agreed to…” He frowned when she smiled again.

Elizabeth turned and scanned the crowd until her eyes found Sarah. “Sarah Nichols, come forth with thy babe.” Looking back up into his eyes she smiled. “Our bargain! It has been satisfied. You will live, but not without payment for your sins.”

Sarah turned and tried to run, but Jonathan refused to let her. Grasping her by her shoulders, he turned her back around. “It is a day of reckoning, my dear wife.”

Elizabeth grasped her hand and pulled her forward, making sure not to wake the babe. “Listen to me, good people of Village Salem. This child is born not with the blood of thy brother, Jonathan Nichols, but that of thy worship, Judge Hauthorn.” She waited for silence after the gasps of shock settled down. “Jonathan Nichols has released Sarah from their ties of wedlock to become the wife of thy judge. A babe is made of their blood and must have its parents to care for it, there will be no hangings today.” Elizabeth felt the pressure of the Judge’s hand squeeze hers. Looking at him, she saw his anger. “Do not defy me again James, I will let the sisters cast you into a fiery pit of snakes if you do. You love this woman Sarah Nichols. This is plain. You could not love me, or your daughter, so give your love where you can.”

“
And what of you, Elizabeth?” James Hauthorn was beginning to understand Elizabeth’s sacrifice. He’d betrayed her love so long ago, and he’d paid ever since. But today, she was releasing him from his curse and her own. “I am old Elizabeth, too old to be a father.”

“
But a father nonetheless. Unlike you, I have my youth back, and my anger is healed. I am a powerful witch, James, now that my Mary is safe from your Sarah I will leave here. I have but one thing left to do, and I must go now.” Reaching up, she kissed him goodbye then walked back through the dazed crowd to address Jonathan first.

“
Elizabeth, I do not understand this madness. Where is Mary?” Jonathan wanted to demand the information from her, but the woman had changed. Youth, beauty and a gentle heart prevented him from pressing her.

“
Jonathan Nichols, thy Mary awaits you at your cottage by the River Ipswich. Ye are free now to wed my daughter. I give you my blessing,” Elizabeth said.

“
But, what of my child, Elizabeth? Rose is mine, is she not?” Jonathan replied.

“
Aye, she is. But Rose is the most powerful witch of us all, Jonathan Nichols. She has been bestowed the gift of love. Her mission in this life is to share that love, and to give it.” Reaching for his hand, she held it. “Your Rose has already found her own true love, you must let her go now.”

“
How can that be? She is but a babe,” Jonathan replied.

“
Our world has many secrets, Jonathan. You will see her again. Go now, your Mary awaits you.” She watched the two men exchange glances before Jonathan left. Once he was gone she took Rowen’s hand in hers. “Come, walk with me, and let us let these good people of Village Salem ponder what they have witnessed today.”

Rowen walked beside her, relaxed. Amazingly, relaxed. “Where is Fern, Elizabeth?”

“
First things first, Rowen Nichols.” She sat on a fallen tree trunk next to the water and gestured for him to join her. When he was eye level, she smiled into his eyes. “Tis been a horrible week, has it not?”

“
Yes, it has. My family journals have been incorrect in so many ways. I no longer know what I’m supposed to believe.” He sighed, thinking about Fern.

“
You are not of Jonathan’s blood.” She watched as surprise settled on his face. “You see Rowen, that babe that Sarah holds today is your great ancestor. Because the child was born with the name Nichols, it could not be changed. Sarah and James will not have any more children, you will be their only descendent.”

“
So, Fern and I aren’t related by blood! This will make her happy.” He languished in the thought of Fern’s happiness. “So, why did you take Fern’s place on the gallows? You could have died if I’d have missed.”

“
In order for me to be released from my own curse of hatred I had to take her place. You see, Rowen Nichols, I once loved a man more than life itself. That man is James Hauthorn. But he didn’t share my love. When I became heavy with his child, Mary, he turned his back on me, refusing to marry me. I was already a witch, but I was inexperienced. I cast a spell on him, making his heart bitter. But to do so I had to sacrifice my youth. The sisters were angry, so angry that they placed a spell on me. I would remain angry, old and bitter until I could sacrifice myself for the sake of love.”

Rowen knew where she was going with her tale. “So when Mary was hung on the gallows, you spoke your curse, knowing you would be able to save her and her seventeenth generation by sacrificing yourself. In turn, breaking the spell of your sisters.”

“
Aye, and I am thankful it has worked. Now the women of my blood will be safe.”

“
Can you tell me now where Fern is? I wish to be with her.” Rowen released her hands and stood, waiting for her to answer.

“
You will find her at the orphanage where she grew up, Rowen Nichols. She too has many questions that must be answered still.” Elizabeth stood then and prepared to leave him. “Go back through the wardrobe to your own time. Once you are through, I will burn it. It will cease to exist.”

Rowen watched her walking away as he yelled one last question. “Is Fern a witch?” He thought he caught a hint of Elizabeth’s familiar old cackle.