The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) (4 page)

“You could have waited for me.” I peered over Michael's shoulder as he removed our son from his car seat. When Montana saw me, he grinned and squirmed in his father's arms. With one jagged tooth coming in, his thatch of bright auburn hair, and his large eyes so green they were almost golden, he looked like a jack-o-lantern.

He was beautiful. And he was mine.

Michael handed him over and I stared into my son's eyes, still marveling that I could create something so perfect. No one had that right.

“Eee-eee,” Montana gasped, happily clawing at my hair.

“Montana James! Mommy missed you!”

“You've only been gone two hours, Mags,” Michael said.

“That's the longest we've ever been apart,” I retorted.

I wiped the drool from Montana's mouth and pulled him into my chest, breathing in his scent of baby powder and jarred peas. “I love you so much!”

He pecked at my neck, indicating he was hungry. I lifted my blouse and slipped down one side of my bra, feeling my engorged breasts tingle as I slid his mouth over my nipple.

Michael watched with too much interest.

“Do you mind?” I asked, returning to the porch where I took a seat on the far end of the swing, covering us both with a small blanket from the bag.

Michael sat at the other end, kicking off his shoes. “You never minded being naked in front of me at Woodhaven,” he said, referencing the religious compound in Northern California he had founded––and failed.

“I liked you then.”

“A lot of men saw you naked at Woodhaven, as I recall. I hope you didn't like them all.”

“I might have.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow and brushed a strand of dark hair out of his face. “Did that include Jason?”

Jason and I were Michael's first recruits. He was like a brother to me, nothing more. I snapped a glare at Michael, startling Montana. He'd been funny about my milk lately and I was afraid he'd stop nursing if he sensed my irritation. Be calm, I told myself.

Eventually, my body relaxed and Montana finished his lunch.

“Well?” Michael pressed, leaning into the corner of the swing.

“Why? Were you jealous of Jason? Is that what this is about? I haven't seen him for nearly a year.”

“I had my... moments.” He turned away, gazing at the tree line that opened into the woods. The trees were lush now, courtesy of the rains. There were birds out, gathering food and advertising their nests. Something small and furry scurried on the ground near the apple trees, then disappeared. “Of course I was jealous, Maggie. You two were good friends.”

“You never showed it. In fact, you encouraged our relationship.”

“I like to keep a poker face.”

“I think you were testing me.”

He spread his hands and shrugged. “Maybe. I was a different person then. Were you ever jealous? Aside from... Leah?”

Why did he have to bring up Leah on a beautiful day like today? She was the source of many of my problems. She'd poisoned my mother, tried to steal her bracelet and wand, and even seduced my boyfriend. Granted, it was all done on the orders of her mother, Larinda, but that didn’t make me like her any more.

“I don't want to talk about Leah,” I said.

“Fair enough.”

Montana was nearly sleeping, so I gently maneuvered him to the other side and helped him latch on. “But to answer your question, yes, I have been jealous of someone besides Leah.”

“Merry?” Michael placed his hand on my knee, saw the look in my eye, and promptly removed it. “You know I care for Merry, but not in that way. I'm more like her therapist than her boyfriend. We haven't even kissed.” He smiled and added, “Yet.”

I felt a sharp electrical surge push through me, the one that usually precipitated the blowing out of light bulbs. I held my breath until the feeling passed. “You're lucky I have my hands full.”

“You really are jealous! That's interesting.”

“I'm not jealous. I just think Merry could do better.”

“So do I.”

“Ouch!”

“You do realize we were both insulting me, right?”

“Not everything is about you, Michael! My yelp was because your son just took a bite out of my boob. He only has one tooth, but I swear he's part werewolf. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep nursing.”

“You read the brochures I brought home, right? Nursing is the single best thing you can do for your baby. If you don't do anything else for that boy, try and nurse him as long as you can.”

“I think giving him life was the single best thing I could do for him. And I'll decide when it's enough. Not you. If you don't like it, grow some boobs and feed him yourself.”

In truth, I didn't want to stop nursing. It was strangely enjoyable and bonding, but I wasn't about to let Michael think he could make decisions regarding my body.

“Touché.” He stretched out his legs and wriggled his toes. He was wearing khaki slacks and black socks.

No one in Dark Root dressed like that. Dark Root men wore jeans and lumberjack shirts. It was part of the town bylaws. Even Michael, who wasn’t a native, didn't wear khakis. Something was up. “Where did you go, Michael?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you look like a banker, not a dad out shopping for diapers and formula. Are you using my baby as chick-bait?”

He smiled, softly slapping his knee. “Did Eve tell you that? One woman ogles me at the magick shop and I'm suddenly using our son as 'chick-bait.'”

Eve hadn't told me, which made me angrier. I shifted position to keep from losing my cool.

“It's a biological reaction,” he continued, strumming his hand along a khaki-enclosed thigh. “When women see a good-looking guy holding a baby, it gets their hormones going.”

“Which is something you have no problem exploiting.”

“Maggie Magic. My little firecracker.” He looked up towards the porch ceiling. “You haven't blown any lights out yet. I suppose that's progress.”

“You still didn't answer my question. Where did you go?”

“As I stated earlier, I went to get supplies. There's a great baby store in Linsburg you should check out with me sometime.” He glanced at his watch. “We may have stopped by a few other places.”

“What places?” This time there was a noise––a sizzling sound like frying bacon. We both looked up at the light fixture, not daring to move until the sound abated. Once clear, I placed my sleeping son in his carrier near my feet, and slid over towards Michael.

“What places?” I asked again.

He ran his fingers through his dark wavy hair, now flecked with sprinkles of gray. “I may have taken him to a few daycares while I was out.”

“You what?” The light bulb crackled and hissed, before turning a muddy brown.

Michael smiled lazily. “It's summertime now, so we probably don't need to replace them every time you lose your temper. But to answer your question, we explored a few promising daycares. Ones that might offer some...” He fingered the cross on his neck. “...Spiritual growth.”

“You're an ass.”

“Hardly appropriate language for a mother, my dear.”

“Why, Michael?” I stood, scraping my hands through my coarse curls. “I told you Montana cannot leave Dark Root without me. So why would you go against my wishes like that?”

Michael stood and placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, looking me square in the eye. “Because I'm his father, Mags. And I have rights, too.”

“The jury’s still out on that one.”

He just smiled. I might have my flaws, but I was stupidly loyal. “Michael, I said Montana cannot leave Dark Root and I meant it. We have to be diligent.”

Michael kneaded my shoulders as his eyes wandered towards our baby. “I try to understand your requests, I really do. But I'm having a hard time with this one. You're being an overprotective mother and it's not good for our son. He's hardly left this house since he was born.”

I looked at Michael, not as an enemy but as an ally. “I know you don't understand and I wish I could explain, but...”

But what? Michael knew about the curse but not about the deal between the older witches. How could I tell him that Jillian and Aunt Dora had offered possession of Montana to help save my life? Or that I hadn't dissolved the curse yet, and still had no idea where it had originated? These were my secrets. I knew they made me seem crazy and overprotective, but the fewer people who knew the truth, the better.

“Just bear with me a little while longer,” I pleaded. I wasn't sure if my son was still in danger, but I certainly wasn’t going to take any chances. Instinct was all I had to go on, for now.

“Alright, but if we're not careful we're going to turn our child into an agoraphobic.”

“Someone who's afraid of socks?” I asked, staring at my child's naked toes.

“Yes, Maggie.” Michael smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Afraid of socks––just like his mother.” He paused, intently studying me. “You going to be okay?” he asked, his eyes drifting down towards my naked ring finger.

I curled up my hands and swallowed, shaking my head with uncertainty. I wasn't sure if I would ever be okay again. But looking at my son, I answered, “I guess I'll have to be.”

THREE

Happy Together

MONTANA SLEPT BESIDE me in his bassinet while I watched old cartoons and folded his clothes. I held up a yellow onesie that read:
Don't Mess With Me Or You'll Have My Crazy Aunt To Answer Too!
It was hand-painted and grammatically incorrect––a gift from Ruth Anne. In just three months, he had outgrown it. I sighed wistfully and set it down.

“Where does the time go?” I asked, out loud.

Merry sorted through an old box of photos she found in the basement while Eve was deciding between two bras––one that pushed up and one that pushed out. Ruth Anne sat at the breakfast table, inspecting her Wings and Wrenches menu and circling the promising items with a Sharpie. None of them responded.

“Where does the time go?” I repeated, hoping for some adult conversation. Lately, most of my chatter consisted of me gurgling at Montana and him gurgling back.

Ruth Anne removed her glasses and set them down on the table. “I assume that's rhetorical. Although, some people say that time is relative, both constant and stationary at once, so maybe it doesn't go anywhere. Maybe it just cycles.”

“Can't you just talk like a normal person for once?” Eve asked, sighing as she lifted a third bra––a lacy red piece that left little to the imagination. “Do you think Paul will like this one?”

Merry glanced up, winking. “He's a man, Eve. He wouldn't mind if you skipped underwear entirely.”

“Say...” Eve's dark eyes lit up.

I shook my head. “Don't even think about it. I'm the only one who gets to go braless around here. One partial nudist in the house is enough.”

Eve eyed my chest and grimaced. “Yeah, but yours are all leaky and wilty.”

“I was going to say balloony,” Ruth Anne said, returning her glasses to her face. “But wilty works. Makes them sound like flowers.”

“Dying flowers,” Eve agreed.

“Gee, thanks you guys. And here I was wanting to talk to adults for a change. Ruth Anne, can I order nicer sisters from Wings and Wrenches?”