Witch Is The New Black (15 page)

Would they have let her suffer the humiliation of her constant “accidents” just to prevent her from finding out she was a witch? What purpose would that serve? Had they been hiding from something?

“And while I realize this is a sensitive subject, I have to ask. How did Eddie figure into this? What did
he
have to say about your alleged bad luck?”

“He was the first person I’d trusted since my parents’ deaths—the first person I let fully into my life. Looking back now, I realize I was vulnerable and lonely. We didn’t really have much in common other than he accepted me. Walking disaster and all. He chalked up my bad luck to coincidence. He laughed it off. He made me feel like I wasn’t such a freak.”

“How long did you date Eddie?”

“Several months before I caught him cheating.”

“Any idea where he is now? Where he landed after the robbery? Did he try to contact you at all?”

“Nope. Not a word. I googled him at Winnie’s, and I can’t find a single bit of information on him.”

“So, you stopped protesting you were a witch when you were in jail. Why?”

Bernie sighed. “Well, there’s the obvious. No one believed me. In fact, one of the screws—”

“Screws?”

“Guards,” she provided on a giggle. “Sorry. My prison lingo lingers. Anyway, the guards thought I was trying to worm my way out of hard time and get myself relocated to the psych ward so I wouldn’t have to peel potatoes or do latrine duty anymore.”

Ridge nodded. “Got it.”

“At first I thought it was insane that they thought
I
was the one who was playing at being nuts. Then, when some of the other inmates used their powers to cast spells or when Fee started talking to me, I thought I really
was
going crazy. Until I started going to all the self-help groups they offer at the prison. In fact, even after attending group, I still didn’t totally believe. I didn’t
want
to believe. I didn’t want to be a witch. So I shut up. I ignored. I hid from what was right there in front of my face. I did my time as clean as possible, all in an effort to get out of prison and figure this out.”

“What was the plan after you got out?”

What
had
been the plan? Run some more. That had been the plan. “I was going to try to save whatever I made working here on the farm then I guess start back at the beginning? See if maybe my parents left something behind to help me figure this out. I still have some of their things in a storage unit in Massachusetts—maybe I missed something when I was looking for who might have murdered them.”

“Makes total sense. And now? What do you plan to do now, Bernie?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“After tonight’s fiasco…I don’t know…”

“The one where you saved Gus’ hide and displayed an amazing feat of willpower and magic, you mean?”

His words warmed her soul, sat right in her heart and got comfortable. “I don’t even know how that happened. I don’t know
why
I knew I could grab that thing, whatever it was—”

“A devastation spell.”

Bernie planted her elbow on her knee and let her chin rest in her hand while she mulled the word devastation. “Good to know. You people have spells for everything, don’t you? I don’t know how I knew what to do, but once I was holding it, once Fee gave me some direction, it all clicked.”

“Well, the good news is,
my
people are now
your
people, Bernie, and with the kind of power you have, I can’t believe you didn’t wipe out a small country. I can’t believe your parents would leave you in such a precarious state willingly, with no guidance at all. Which means something’s not right here. I just don’t know what ‘not right’ means.”

That boulder she carried around on her shoulders suddenly felt lighter. “Well, if
you
don’t know, I don’t know. I’ve lived with this for a very long time, thinking it was just a case of some severely rotten luck, but having some answers would be a relief.”

“So I’d say this deserves some investigation, don’t you? It also means you need to talk to Winnie and the other witches in town, Bernie. You have to tell them about this. They can teach you things that a warlock like me can’t.”

“Who said you had to teach me anything?”

His chuckle resonated in her ears, warm and rumbly when he knocked her knee with his and squeezed her hand. “Don’t get all prickly on me, pretty lady. I’m offering my help—stop biting the hand and all. What I’m saying is, you don’t have to hide anymore, Bernie, or apologize for every accident that occurs. First, because you can’t afford
not
to learn how to use your power—someone could end up seriously hurt if you don’t know what you’re doing, and once you learn, there probably won’t be any more accidents. Second, we’re a community. We rally. That’s just how it goes here in Paris.”

He was offering his help as part of the
community
. Her flushed cheeks and raging libido crashed. Everyone in Paris loved Ridge for a reason. He was a decent man who happened to be hotter than the month of July on Mars.

But she couldn’t deny she needed help. Not after tonight.

He ran a finger down the length of her nose when he asked, “So whaddya say we teach you how to be a witch?”

And she tried to liken his affection to that of a friendly gesture. “I say yee-haw.”

“Then I volunteer as tribute.”

“May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Orchid whinnied her approval, making them both laugh.

Chapter 10

“A
tta girl!” Flora nodded her approval while knitting an afghan beneath a canopy tent with Fee curled happily at her feet. “You got it now, Bernie!”

They were just a few feet beyond the edge of Ridge’s property, not far from the barn and the big pecan tree the seniors so favored. The seniors had gone to the town hall and looked up a survey of Ridge’s land. To everyone’s surprise, they’d discovered, his land ended not too far from where she spent most of her days.

So they’d set up a makeshift camp with chairs and a picnic table so Bernie could practice her magic every day at lunch without being hindered by the no-magic rule Ridge’s father had placed on the farm.

And it was paying off.

Sweat pooled in her newly purchased bra, but by hell, she could levitate a John Deere for twenty minutes and counting at a time. Things were looking up.

“Gooooo, Bernie!” Daphne cheered, waving her arms. “Ain’t no one gonna keep you down now, girl!”

Gus and Clive chewed on pieces of straw, shouting their encouragement, too, when she was able to spin the tractor three hundred and sixty degrees.

“Okay, kiddo, now let ’er down nice and easy. And remember what I said, it’s a slight pause, then a gentle twist of your wrist. We don’t want a repeat of old Betty Boop,” Gus encouraged with a cackle.

That made her laugh, thus almost breaking her concentration.

“Watch your noggins! Witch-in-training on the loose!” Glenda-Jo screeched, hopping up out of her lounge chair and scattering her embroidery.

But Bernie really did have it. In fact, since she’d talked to Ridge, and consequently Winnie and the other senior witches, she more than had it.

With a snap of her fingers, she made the tractor disappear with a huge grin.

“Woohoo!” Calla and the seniors cheered from beneath the shade of the canopy.

They’d given her books and advice and tons of their spare time, teaching her how to manage her power—a power bigger than they’d first imagined. She practiced every day on her lunch hour, every fifteen-minute break, and every single night until her eyeballs wobbled and her fingers were sometimes raw from shooting nothing but sparks.

But she was getting the hang of it, and growing stronger by the day.

Calla came up behind her and gave her a light squeeze. “Look at you! The way things are going, you’ll be uber witch in no time flat. We’re all so proud of you.”

Bernie wiped her hand over her brow, cupping her eyes to block the glare of the sun. “It’s such a relief to be out in the open, and that’s thanks to all of you.”

“You could have been out in the open a lot sooner, B. All you had to do was trust me,” Winnie reminded, her smile teasing. “But I’m not going to grudge. I’m just glad you told someone. Especially when that someone is cute as the day is long.”

Ridge. Again. Surprise.

Though, in all fairness, he’d been an active participant in her witch lessons. He’d spent every afternoon with her when her workday was over, and before dinner, coaching her, reading passages to her from book after book of spells, helping her learn the signs of an oncoming surge of magic, feel her body language, understand that her powers were driven primarily by her emotions or adverse reactions to the emotions of others.

Which, she and Fee privately deduced, completely explained the kiss and Ridge’s truck ending up in the creek, and Violet losing her hair.

But it was all strictly platonic. So platonic, it set her teeth on edge.

And that would be just fine if not for the fact that he was driving her out of her mind. When he sat next to her at his kitchen table, elbow to elbow as they poured over all sorts of rules and regulations regarding white witches. When he drank from a beer and her eyes fell to his lips, surrounding the opening of the bottle.

When he just damn well existed.

And every day was getting harder to concentrate on remembering witch rules rather than on wondering what Ridge might look like naked and all tangled up in some sheets.

“So, how are the lessons going with Ridge, anyway?” Winnie asked, trying very hard not to be obvious and totally failing as far as Bernie was concerned.

Daphne fluttered her eyelashes, tucking her hands into a fist behind her back. “Yeah, how’s that going, Bernie? All that midnight-oil burnin’ sure must be hot.”

Bernie snapped her fingers again and made the tractor reappear, forcing her face to remain placid at their ribbing. “It’s fine.”

Calla squawked, “Fine? Did I hear a measly word like
fine
associated with Ridge Donovan? C’mon, Bernie, it’s obvious he likes you. And it’s even more obvious you like him. What’s the holdup in the romance department?”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “There
is
no romance. There’s just Ridge being a good community team player and helping me to learn your witchy way.”

“
Our
witchy way, sister. And in the interest of full disclosure, B, you
can
like him. It’s okay to like him then dish to us about it. Right, ladies?”

Calla and Daphne clapped their hands. “Yes! Do dish!”

“Like who?” Greta muttered as she approached, her clipboard in hand, her infamous whistle gleaming in the bright sun.

“Ridge,” Winnie provided with an evil grin.

Bernie sighed, immediately ready to correct Winnie to keep her record clean. “I don’t like him. Wait. I mean I like him. I don’t
like him
, like him. He’s my boss. That’s it. Witch’s honor.”

Greta frowned, putting her hands on her stout hips. “So that’s not hormones I smell every time he’s around you?”

Bernie shook her head. “Nope. Must be cow poop. No hormones. No romance. No nothin’.”

“Don’t make me write you up for lying, parolee.”

“You strike such fear in my heart. Can you do that?”

“I can do whatever I want.”

“Do you want me to sign it so you have it on record?”

Greta held up her whistle a mere blip of a moment before blowing it so loud, it made Bernie’s eyes tear up. “Stop being a moron, Sutton. Of course I’m not going to write you up for lying about liking a man!”

“But he’s my boss and I’m an ex-con.”

“So you’re the first ex-con who’s liked a man?”

“Well, no, but I’d think as my parole officer you’d frown on that sort of relationship.”

“So now you’re telling me how to do my job?”

“No…I…” She floundered. What was the right answer here?

But Greta began to laugh, her round crimson cheeks swallowing her sparkling eyes whole, and Winnie, Daphne and Calla joined in.

“Afternoon, ladies. Can I see you for a minute, Bernie?” Ridge drawled as he sauntered toward the barn, tipping his hat to them.

“‘Can I see you for a minute, Bernie?’” Winnie teased, lowering her voice to mimic Ridge and batting her eyelashes.

Bernie glowered at them, running a finger over her neck in cutthroat fashion, but they giggled in spite of her threat, evil grins securely on their faces as she made her way to the barn.

Poking her head around the corner, she caught her breath as Ridge pulled his shirt back down and dropped a towel on a hay bale, giving her a glimpse of his muscled back. Bronzed from being out in the pasture, the rippling flesh wide then tapering into his jeans—it made her mouth go dry.

If he could just be ugly, or even a little unappealing, it would make her interaction with him so much easier.

One deep, shaky breath later, and she wandered into the barn and tapped him on the shoulder. “What’s up?”

He turned to face her, his smile white and delicious. “Hey, do you mind if we study later tonight instead of after work? I’ve got a couple things I need to do.”

“If you’re busy, it’s no big deal—”

“I’m not busy, Bernie. Not too busy to help. I’m just delaying. But let me make it up to you?”

She shook her head, wiping her palms on her jeans. It wasn’t just hot in the barn because of the temperature; it was always hot when Ridge was too close. “You don’t have to make up anything to me. I can always ask Fee to help me—or independent study is okay, too.”

He sauntered up to her, his arms crossed over his wide chest, his eyes amused. “Do you really think you should independently try to move a body of water without just a little help from this warlock? It’s pretty heavy, you know.”

She giggled and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, as oceans go, you have plenty of room for one out in the pasture. I don’t know why you’re worried. I’m really good at burning things down, why should moving a body of water be any different?”

He cupped her jaw without warning, making her knees wobble and her breath quicken. “Bernie, I’m just delaying our tutoring session, but I’ll make you dinner and we can study while we eat. That work?”