Into the Woods (29 page)

She turned away once again, a satisfied smile on her face as she walked away. This time the angry words that drifted to her ears were witch and spell and magic.

* * *

Matilda made her usual Friday-morning trip to town, her basket loaded down with sweets and breads, pomades and a few bottles of rose water, rose-hip marmalade and rose honey. There was no spring in her step, no joy in this weekly chore.

She couldn't even muster a smile for Mr. Fox when he exclaimed over the candies and the marmalade in the heavy basket.

And when she left the store and found Declan waiting on the boardwalk, her heart nearly stopped beating. He had not bothered with one of his fine suits today; he wore a simple white shirt and denims and a pair of scuffed western-style boots. The clothing suited him more than the citified outfits he used to constantly wear. Still, she didn't like it. The simple attire made him look as if he'd somehow given up.

No, the surrender was not in something so simple as the clothes he wore. The defeat was in his eyes.

"I wanted to see you," he said, joining her as she tried to walk away.

"Your potion will be ready tomorrow," she said without looking at him. "There's no need for us to talk until then."

He ignored her and fell into step at her side. "I'm staying at the boardinghouse," he said. "And I've wired my sister Angela to send me a bank draft."

"I'm sure you'll get by just fine," she said sharply.

Declan didn't answer, but he didn't leave her, either. He stayed beside her as she began the long walk down the road that led to her home.

"I'm boarding Shadow at the livery in town," he said after a few awkward moments of silence. "I know you don't have any way to care for her..."

"Perhaps you should sell her." Matilda interrupted. "Or make a gift of her to Vanessa."

She wanted to scream at Declan, to tell him that he was throwing away something precious for his vengeance, but she didn't. She couldn't speak to him, she didn't even want to look at him. And yet he would not go away.

She loved him still, would probably always love him. That was the true curse of love, wasn't it? That it worked itself in so deep it was impossible to displace, that it became a part of you whether you wanted it or not.

"Shadow is yours," he said softly. "I won't take her back, and I won't give her to someone else."

"Vanessa," Matilda said, spitting out the name. "Can't you even say your intended's name aloud? Vanessa. Not someone else, not her. Vanessa." Every time she spoke the name, her heart hurt.

Declan nervously raked his hands through his hair. "I don't want to talk about her, about... about Vanessa; I just want to make sure you're all right."

All right? Was he insane? "I'm fine," she said, her voice weak and certainly unconvincing.

"I never wanted to hurt you."

Hurt was too easy a word for what she felt, too small and ordinary. She picked up the pace, hurrying toward home, anxious to escape from Declan before she said something incredibly stupid. Like I love you, don't do this.

He wasn't dissuaded, and continued at her side.

"Go away, Mr. Harper," she said without looking at him. "I can find my own way home."

"I just want to make sure you get home safely, that's all."

"I've been making this walk on my own for years; I don't need an escort now."

Declan didn't argue. He simply fell into step beside her, as he had so often since returning to Tanglewood; his long stride shortened to accommodate her so that they walked in a kind of harmony.

The walk into the woods seemed longer than usual, the air hotter, the road endless. How could he stand this? How could she? Having him so close was pure torture. Matilda comforted herself with the knowledge that once she was home, Declan would leave her alone. And after she saw him to hand over the love potion tomorrow, he would be out of her life forever.

Unless even after he married Vanessa he took to meeting her in town on Fridays and escorting her home. What torture that would be. To see him this way, to talk awkwardly and maybe even pretend to be friends, would be more painful than she could imagine.

It was too early to pretend, too soon. The hurt was too fresh, the wounds too raw. They had nothing to say today, so they walked in silence. The heat was stifling, the sun unbearably hot. Matilda felt like her heart had crawled into her throat and meant to stay there.

At last her cottage came into view; she had never been so happy to see home.

"Home safe and sound," she said, trying, and failing, to sound indifferent. "I'll see you tomorrow. Not before noon, Mr. Harper. I am following the directions diligently, and the love potion won't be ready until then."

"Noon," he said, and then he reached out and grabbed her arm, just as she was about to make a safe escape.

She looked up into his dark eyes. He held her too close, reminding her of all they'd had and would never have again. It was as if he was trying to make sure her broken heart was fatal.

"I kissed you here once, after another long walk from town," he whispered, trailing his free hand along the curve of her cheek.

"Did you?" she asked, trembling. "I don't remember."

"I do." He released his grip on her and wrapped his arm around her.

To break and run would reveal her feelings too clearly, wouldn't it? To cry out that he was torturing her would show Declan how he was hurting her. She didn't want him to know, didn't want him to think her pathetic.

"It was just a kiss," she whispered. "The world is full of kisses."

"Then one more won't hurt." He leaned down, dipping his head toward hers. "Kiss me good-bye, Matilda. We owe each other that. One long, sweet, good-bye kiss."

Matilda wanted to fight, but couldn't. She wanted to tell Declan no. More than anything, she wanted him to know that this one last kiss would hurt. Too much.

But she said nothing. She closed her eyes as his mouth touched hers. In an instant, she was submerged in love and longing and pain. Those feelings and more washed over and through her like a rolling wave of heat.

Surely a good-bye kiss shouldn't turn so deep and passionate, so full of yearning pain that her entire body throbbed.

I love you. The words were on the lips he devoured. Don't leave me. Her heart begged. Don't let this be goodbye.

The kiss ended abruptly, as Declan took his mouth from hers. He held her, still, pulling her head to his shoulder and breathing in her ear.

How could she make herself despise Declan when he obviously hated this parting as much as she did? How could she let him go?

In the end she didn't have to; he dropped his arms and turned to stalk away from her without a word.

* * *

From her hiding place in the woods, Gretchen sighed deeply. She had hoped that since she hadn't seen Mr. Harper around the Candy place for a couple of days that the romance had ended on its own. Clearly that was not the case.

"Have you come up with a plan yet?" Hanson asked, his voice low as the witch entered her house.

"Not yet. I told her he'd been kissing other women, but she didn't believe me. I should have known better. She's a witch, after all. She knows things."

"Maybe we should tell Mr. Harper that she's been kissing other men," Hanson said. "He's not a witch, so he won't know it's a lie."

She wondered if such news would enrage the man so much that he'd call an end to their romance. Perhaps, but she suspected it might not be enough.

"You'd think a man would be wary of falling in love with a witch," she muttered.

"He does know she's a witch, doesn't he?" Hanson asked.

"Of course," Gretchen snapped. "Everyone knows."

"Yeah, but not everyone believes it's true. Stella doesn't believe in witches at all."

Gretchen made her way to the path she and her brother had made through the woods. "We could convince him," she said, "that Matilda Candy is a real witch, that she's dangerous. We can tell him that she casts spells by moonlight and that maybe she's even cast a spell on him."

Hanson followed her toward home. "That might work."

Gretchen smiled. Yes, it just might.

Chapter 20

He hadn't slept well in three nights, and knowing he'd see Matilda in a few hours—perhaps for the last time—made Declan's whole body ache. He'd tried to remain in his small room at the boarding house, but ever since he'd awakened, well before dawn, he'd felt as if the walls were closing in on him. So he walked the streets with restless anger.

Saturday morning in Tanglewood always bustled, but on this morning Declan found he had no tolerance for the people who laughed and shopped and pushed their way through the crowds as if nothing had changed. A few spoke to him, but he barely answered. He walked on as if he hadn't heard, trying to look like he was going somewhere with purpose, but in reality moving on aimlessly. Lost.

He was outside the saloon when the Hazelrig twins placed themselves in his path and refused to move out of his way. He couldn't move to the side, as a group of farmers had cornered the rainmaker demanding their money back as well as repayment for the past two weeks of food and lodging.

"Hello, Mr. Harper," Gretchen, the brat who had pushed him into Matilda's pond, said.

"Hello." He did his best to move around the little girl, but as he did the little boy stepped practically under his feet.

"Where are you going?" the kid asked.

"Don't you two have somewhere you're supposed to be?"

"No," Gretchen answered, apparently missing the broad hint in his question. "Our stepmother is in the general store, and Father is at the blacksmith's. They told us not to wander far, though."

"Yes, well..." Declan began, trying to make his way around the children.

"Did you know that Matilda Candy is a witch?" Hanson asked loudly. "A real one."

Declan was no longer trying to escape. He felt it was his duty to defend Matilda from the ridiculous charge. "That's nonsense."

"No, it's true," Gretchen said. "We've seen her cast spells over her black cauldron, calling out the dark spirits." She lifted her arms slowly and arched pale eyebrows.

"You've seen no such thing," Declan said, aware that the nearby farmers had stopped their discussion to listen.

"We have, too," Hanson said. "You just don't see it because she cast a spell on you. That's scary, isn't it?" he asked, wide-eyed and excited. "That she cast a spell on you? She could turn you into a frog if she wanted to. She told me so one day when I spit into one of her magic potions."

"Matilda Candy is a lovely young woman who can make candy and bread and a hundred other useful goods." He tried to keep his voice calm. "The idea that she's a witch is absolutely ridiculous."

Gretchen leaned close and whispered loudly. "Is it? She's never denied that she's a witch like her grandmother. She doesn't care who knows, because she knows that if somebody makes trouble for her..." the little girl snapped her fingers, "they're a slimy toad, just like that."

Hanson nodded wisely and patted Declan consolingly on the arm. "I'd be real careful if I were you."

Declan finally made his way around the children, shaking his head as he went. Ridiculous! The people of Tanglewood had nothing to fear from Matilda. Nothing at all. She was good and sweet and wouldn't hurt a fly.

And in a couple of hours Matilda was going to make his dreams come true, just as her grandmother had promised. Too bad she could no longer be a part of that dream.

* * *

The potion had been carefully mixed with elderberry wine and poured into a fine-cut glass decanter. Only the best for Declan Harper, Matilda thought sourly as she stared at the way the sunlight, touching the bottle that sat near her window, made its contents sparkle.

A love potion. The very idea chilled her more than any bump in the night or bad dream or imagined monster. The crimson liquid looked harmless enough, was beautiful even, the way it caught the light and seemed to hold on to it, but surely no good would come of something intended to manufacture love.

If any man but Declan had asked her to concoct such a powerful potion, she would've refused. But she would do anything for the man she loved, even this.

He arrived right on time, and she was ready for him. Sitting in her rocking chair with her hair in pigtails, feet bare, she was Tanglewood's witch again. Nothing more, not to Declan, not to anyone.

She waited a moment after his knock to call him inside. She used that moment to steel herself for what was to come.

Preparing herself to face Declan had been a waste of time. She couldn't be strong where he was concerned, couldn't pretend she didn't still love him. He looked so tired, so bone-weary, that she wanted nothing more than to rise to her feet, go to him, and give whatever comfort she could.

But she remained in her seat, by sheer force of will. Taking her eyes from Declan, she pointed to the table by the window, where the love potion mixed with wine caught the sun like a rare ruby.

"There's what you came for, Mr. Harper." She couldn't make herself look him in the eye. "I hope it brings you all the happiness you expect."