Wild about the Witch Read online

  A stinging crack across her cheek and a shrill voice knifed through her tranquil departure. “Piper, you have to hang on. I can’t plan this damn wedding on my own.”

  The wedding. The effing wedding. The carriage rental people were coming on Thursday, and they had cake tasting, dress shopping, airline tickets to arrange for the people in Dilbert— all the stress came rushing back and her face hurt from being repeatedly slapped.

  Holy hell, she was still alive. She batted at Evie’s hands and heard her sob with relief, but lay there hoping to recapture some of that near death peacefulness. Nope. Tethered to the earth and all its woes.

  She opened her eyes and couldn’t help smiling as Lachlan pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her dirty knuckles, as Evie’s soppy tears splashed down on her, as Mellie and Catie and the others stood hovering, all surrounded by her beloved, crumbling pile of rocks. It was never going to be easy. These people were a mess. But she didn’t mind getting dragged back, not even a little.

  Lachlan carried her to the couch in her office and Mellie plied her with tea and biscuits. Evie refused to be dragged away, squishing herself onto the couch by Piper’s feet. Catie brought Magnus and sat on the rug, settling the baby on the floor in front of her.

  Quinn and Lizzie popped their heads in, dragging Oliver. “We must go,” Quinn said, tipping his head apologetically at her. “We’ve tarried too long already.”

  “Aye, ye’re right,” Lachlan said.

  She held out her arms and waggled her fingers and Quinn rolled his eyes, but came forward for a strangling goodbye hug. Lizzie followed him and stood beside the couch. Oliver bowed his farewell, putting his arm around Mellie.

  Piper heard broken record sounds in her head and swiveled to make sure she saw correctly. Not only did Oliver have both his arms around Mel’s waist, she had her head tucked against his shoulder. When the hell had this happened?

  “What’s this? I thought you took him for a drive around the village?”

  Evie said, “Oh, she took him for a drive, all right. They drove all night long.”

  Mel turned fuschia and stepped away from him. “It’s nothing like that.”

  “I shouldna think so,” Catie said, mini Ferguson death glare trained full force on Oliver.

  The flustered young man rolled his shoulders awkwardly and exchanged a knowing glance with Mel. “Certainly not,” he said.

  “Well, whenever ye’re ready, Oliver.” Quinn sounded put upon. “As ye are the only one of us who’s done the spell correctly, we wait upon your indulgence.”

  Piper tried to pull herself off the couch to do it for them, certain she could get them to the proper time, but Lachlan placed his big hand squarely on her chest to keep her down, and Evie grabbed her ankle.

  “Oliver’s quite good at it,” Lizzie jumped in to assure her. “You mustn’t exert yourself again so soon.”

  “Ye can do the spell?” Catie asked.

  Piper couldn’t tell if she was impressed or horrified that someone she liked had anything to do with it.

  “Aye, he told me all about it on our drive,” Mel said, causing Catie’s eyes to nearly pop out of her head. “I used to be fearful of it, but as he explained so well, there’s nothing evil or scary about it.” Despite her words, Piper noticed she clutched at the cross she always wore around her neck.

  “Aye, he’s truly a hero,” Quinn interjected. “Now, may we go?”

  “Shut up, Quinn,” Catie said, looking at Oliver with a different light in her eyes. “He is a hero, for getting ye here, and putting his life on hold. Er, for me.” The last bit was said with a pointed look at Mel. She glanced shyly at Oliver. “And as ye’ve come so far and done so much for me, it would be sorely ungrateful of me not to repay your kindness.”

  “There is no need for any such thing. I’m only glad I was of service to you,” he said. “I hope to continue to be.”

  Piper and Evie both sighed at his courtly attitude, but Lachlan cleared his throat impatiently. Catie tore her gaze from Oliver and turned to Piper, her cheeks growing red.

  “And of course there isna anything evil about the spell.” She pulled Magnus closer to her and kissed his downy head before continuing. “I’m sorry I thought ye were a witch, Piper.”

  Piper’s eyes welled with tears, grateful that at the last moment, she got to make friends with her future sister-in-law. Or, past sister-in-law? Either way, she reached for Catie’s hand and smiled warmly.

  “Well, I guess I am one, so no harm done,” she said nervously.

  It was difficult to admit, but she didn’t see a way around it. There was no other way she could have done the things she did today. Hopefully the others wouldn’t be too upset about the revelation.

  “I’m one too, then,” said Oliver into the awkward silence. “I mean, I’ve done the spell, and it worked, so I must be.”

  “I have done it far more times than either of ye, so I suppose I am a witch as well,” Lachlan said.

  Piper felt a welling in her heart at their show of solidarity. Quinn wrapped his arms around Lizzie and spoke up.

  “I tried it, and it didna work, but I wanted it to,” he said. “What does that make me?”

  “You’re a wannabe witch.” Lizzie laughed up at him. “I never even got to try it, so who knows if I can do it. I do know I want to get home,” she sighed, leaning against his chest.

  Quinn’s face lit up. “Ye called it home,” he said softly.

  Piper put her face in her hands, too overwhelmed by their support to stop the happy tears from flowing down her cheeks. Lachlan kissed the top of her head and she peeked at them from between her fingers. Before she could thank them, Lachlan clapped his hands together.

  “Ye mustna tarry any longer, though I wish we had more time. Young Oliver, since he’s so verra proficient, can see ye get back to the proper time.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh, alerting Piper that he was about to say something difficult for him. She wriggled to a more upright position and saw him looking at Catie. “Lass, I’ve thought about it, and been harangued by more than one person I trust to let ye stay.” A collective gasp filled the room, making Lachlan roll his eyes. “Aye, ye may stay, Catriona.”

  He looked like he was gearing up to release a list of conditions, but Catie jumped to her feet, handing Mags off to Evie and wedging herself between Oliver and Mel. She looked shyly at Oliver before answering her brother.

  “Thank ye, Lach, but I think I’ll go back after all.”

  “Bloody hell,” Lachlan grumbled, but Lizzie had already grabbed Catie’s hand to lead her from the room, Quinn and Oliver at their heels.

  “Do not leave without saying goodbye,” Evie called, standing up to go after them, but pausing to take Mellie by the arms.

  “Explain,” she said.

  Mellie snorted with laughter. “Aren’t you concerned about the condition of my heart now that Oliver’s leaving?”

  “What’s she on about?” Lachlan asked. “I thought the English lad fancied Catie?”

  “He does,” Mel said, smugly crossing her arms. “And I suspected Catie still liked him, too, even with pretty boy Shane distracting her. So, when we were driving to see his farm, I asked Oliver if he wanted to try to make her jealous, and that way we’d know for sure if she still had any feelings for him. At first he was all noble and gentlemanly and didn’t want to stoop to that level, but when I told him how Mr. Studly McGoatherd was after her, he jumped right on board.”

  Evie had to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, and Piper didn’t know whether to be impressed or disappointed. She could see how hard it was for Lachlan to let her stay and how relieved he was that she was going back, but wished she could have spent more time with her. She felt a little sorry for Shane. Everyone seemed to think he was such a player, but she liked the kid, and he’d seemed genuinely interested in Catie.

  “You made her see what a catch Oliver was,” Evie said appreciatively.

  “Aye, I figure
d it wouldn’t hurt if she truly didn’t like him, but if she did, it would light a fire under her if she thought someone else might want him.”

  “How did ye get so wise?” Lachlan asked.

  Mellie wrinkled her nose, uncomfortable at the praise. She looked questioningly at Evie. “I thought Sam was coming to take you to the doctor?”

  Evie’s eyes widened and she stepped away from Piper, which meant she wanted to avoid getting smacked for something. “Uh, well, I never actually sent him a message. I wanted to see how everything turned out,” she said, yelping when Mellie swatted her shoulder.

  “If you’ll forgive me saying so, that’s rather foolish in your condition,” Mellie said.

  “It’s insane and reckless,” Piper exclaimed, collapsing back onto the cushions in her distress.

  “I’ll take her right now,” Mellie said, when Lachlan looked as if he was about to sling her over his shoulder and take her himself. “I actually want to get out for a bit, as I lied about the spell not being scary. It actually still scares the crap out of me.”

  “Me too, Mel,” Evie said. “Let’s go find Sam and get me checked out, then we can eat at Maison Craig to celebrate.”

  “What are you celebrating?” Piper asked.

  She lifted her legs so Lachlan could sit on the couch with her and he pulled her blanket over them both. He massaged her feet with his strong hands and she felt cozy and safe as he smiled at her, eyes full of love. Evie squeezed her arm and held Mags out to her so she could kiss his velvety soft cheek.

  “Life,” she said, and shrugged. “Everything.”

  “Perfect reasons.” Piper hauled herself forward, and had to shut her eyes against a rush of dizziness. “We’ll join you.”

  Lachlan steadied her with a hand under her elbow. “It sounds exactly the opposite of what the doctor would order, if ye were to take my recommendation and call him.” He leaned to kiss her nose and smile at her, softening his stern tone. “I am going to carry ye upstairs and get ye in dry clothes, and this time make sure ye stay in bed.”

  She smiled contentedly and waved at Evie and Mel. His plan sounded even better than Maison Craig.

  “We must get Mellie an extravagant Christmas present,” he said after they were gone.

  She laughed at his relief. “Why did you tell Catie she could stay if you didn’t want her to?”

  Piper had mixed feelings about it herself. She’d been so agitated by her headaches and blackouts, she’d only wanted Catie gone, but now she already missed her.

  “I didna want ye to think me harsh and cruel for making her go back,” he said, picking her up and heading for their room.

  “I could never think that,” she said, resting against his chest.

  As soon as she had her warm, dry pajamas on, he got into bed with her and pulled the covers to their chins.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him like a starfish and sighed, already feeling stronger. It would be a long time, if ever, before she tried any of her new magic skills again.

  “Tell me what you’re feeling, love,” Lachlan asked tentatively, and she knew he worried she might feel bad about banishing her grandmother.

  She prodded at her emotions and only felt relief. Everyone she cared about was okay, she was alive, and she’d finally learned that she was in control.

  She no longer felt sick and ashamed at what she was, and suspected a lot of it didn’t even have anything to do with Daria. It was her legacy, same as the land and the castle. A happy tear slid down her cheek and Lachlan pulled her closer.

  “I feel fine,” she said, and for the first time in a long time, meant it.

  Chapter 23

  Pietro leaned against the fence and let his eyes rest on the horses grazing in the field. He was exhausted from helping with a foaling the night before, and he’d spent a good part of that morning trying to help wherever he was needed.

  Four of his stable hands were down with the illness, six of his guards. Many of the castle servants who remained healthy were wary to be around the sick and refused to go near the quarantined area that had been set up when it looked like it was going to well and truly be an epidemic. They’d lost four people to the raging fever, one child and three elderly folks.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his darling Bella sleep, never leaving wee Callum’s bedside. Their lad was hanging on by a thread, and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on in his weakened state.

  Pietro gripped the fence rail and struggled against tears. There was no time to break down, and he’d rested long enough. The only time Bella would even take a break was if he was with Callum, and he had to go now, so she could eat something, or wash her face, or pray.

  As much as he wanted to check on them, he feared the worst. Every time he stood outside the closed door of his son’s room, he was taken by the most cowardly dread, and had to force himself to open it. He didn’t know how he could stand to lose his middle child. He’d have to go on for the others, but he didn’t know how he would.

  As he pushed through the somber halls of the castle, being stopped for news, complaints, questions, he wondered if he should continue holding out hope for Quinn’s return. He’d thought it would only be a few hours before they’d have their miracle medicines from his own time, but four days had passed and now death had them in its grasp.

  If Quinn returned at all, had the sickness advanced too far for even heavy duty antibiotics? He’d been kicking himself since they left for not taking Bella and the children and just going with them. This time was dangerous and hard. Every time he thought he was getting used to it, something new and terrible happened.

  Bella would never consider leaving, though. No matter what she said, she loved every second of clan intrigue. There was no way he could be laird of this place without her by his side, giving him ideas and answers. He held the title, but over the years she’d become the true leader of this clan.

  Her heart would be torn out if Callum didn’t survive. Which would be worse, his own pain, or having to watch Bella go through it?

  He was interrupted from his dark thoughts by his wife’s maid flying into him, her face streaked with tears, so distraught she could barely speak. He gave up trying to get an answer out of her and brushed past her, running full tilt to the baby’s room.

  Bella stood shaking over Callum’s bed. His wee lad was hidden by a mound of covers, but there was no hiding Bella’s tears. His heart thumped hard and slow and the air became thick. With nothing to reach for to keep him from falling, he staggered to Bella and grabbed her arm.

  She turned into him, sobbing against his chest. Callum moaned and rolled over in his blanket nest and Pietro’s knees nearly gave out from relief. Unable to speak for a moment, he held Bella tightly.

  “What is it, sweetheart?” he finally managed in a weak rasp. He reached over to lay his hand on Callum’s head, shocked at how hot he felt.

  “We’ve lost Gordon,” she cried. She took a deep breath and stepped away from him, looking up with her deep golden eyes. Tears welled over the lids and he pulled her close again, unable to look at her sadness. “What shall I do without him?”

  It hit him like an electric shock. The man wasn’t even that old, and had only come down with the fever the day before. Pietro wasn’t sure himself what they would do without her trusted advisor. Her uncle had been the voice of reason on too many occasions to count, and had been more of a father to her throughout her life than her own, cruel sire had been.

  He would miss him, and he knew once the shock wore off, a deep sadness would overtake him, as he’d truly liked the taciturn fellow. But he couldn’t allow emotions right now. This sickness was going to swallow them all, raging through the castle as it was, becoming stronger and claiming its victims at lightning speeds. He had to get his family to safety.

  She must have sensed his agitation and reached up to smooth his hair, patting his shoulders in the way she did to young Reid when he got upset. He felt ashamed at his fear a
nd lack of leadership, and for the millionth time was grateful she loved him after all these years.

  “How did ye know I was panicking?” he asked. He rested his forehead against her soft, russet hair and kissed the top of her head.

  “Because ye love us so,” she said, wiping her tears. “I feel it, too, day and night. The urge to run away.” Before he could respond, she held up her hand. “But ye know we must stay in this time. We dinna know if we could do the spell, and I feel quite certain we shouldna try. This is our lot we’ve been given, and for all we know we’d only make things worse.” She stood on her toes to kiss him. “I only hope ye have no regret.”

  “I thought you gave up saying daft things like that years ago,” he told her.

  He sat on the edge of Callum’s bed and lightly rested his hand on the boy’s blanketed form. Callum whimpered and opened his eyes for a moment, then struggled to say something. In the few days he’d been ill, most of his sturdy toddler fat had melted away, leaving him looking alarmingly frail.

  Bella sat beside him and took their son’s tiny hand. “Your da has come at last, Cal,” she said, turning to Pietro. “He’s been wanting ye all day. I know ye’re trying to pick up the slack everywhere, but perhaps just stay by our side for now, if ye will.” Her voice broke and he knew she feared Callum dying at any moment. It took all his strength not to blubber like a baby.

  “Of course,” he said. “I shall tell ye boring stories of my own childhood, lad.”

  Callum smiled and fell back to sleep, and Bella began to cry again. All Pietro could do was sit and hold her, never taking his hand off their sleeping child.

  ***