The Cupcake Coven (12 page)

“Was it something you might have heard on the radio?”

“I doubt it. I don’t have a radio.”

“What was the other thing?”

“A smell. I was walking by a bakery and smelled apple pie. I think either I used to bake apple pies or maybe someone I knew did. I just had a funny feeling about it.”

“Mmmm…I think I love apple pie.”

She chuckled. “Isn’t it weird? Some things seem so familiar, but who knows if any of it is real or not. Maybe in real life I hate pie.”

John chuckled. “I don’t think anyone hates pie.”

“True. Maybe when I get some money, I’ll go back to that bakery and buy a piece. Maybe some memory will come back if I taste it.”

“Huh. So you’re saying if we look, listen, taste and inhale there might be clues that’ll jog our memories?”

“Exactly,” she said.

“I’m glad I met you, April. Do you want to go for a walk later?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.”
Things are looking up—finally.

“Dru, I’m sorry for meeting you here,” Hanna said. “I know you and Rebecca are busy.” She sat on one of the kitchen’s chairs and watched as Dru kept kneading dough.

He smirked.
You have no idea.

Every night for a week, as soon as the bakery closed, they went upstairs and created a whole different kind of heat. Making love started out pretty great, but as they grew closer, sex seemed to be only part of it. He couldn’t let love enter the picture, though. Once he found Shasta, he’d have to go home.

He’d never had this kind of experience with a woman before. Available women on the ranch were rare and trips to town hadn’t introduced him to the kind of woman he was looking for. Maybe Rebecca would be willing to visit him at the ranch when she could.

“Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I have a couple of questions for you too, Hanna. But, ladies first.”

She smiled. “You’re such a gentleman. That makes what I have to say even harder.”

“Oh. Bad news?”

“I’m afraid so. A very experienced Wiccan would like to join our coven, and I really need her. Most covens have more than one high priestess or priest. At that point, they’re called elders. I’m the only one right now. The benefits to having a back-up are probably obvious.”

“Sure. I imagine if you get sick, she can take over for you.”

Hanna nodded. “And if I’m ever unsure about a course of action, there’s someone to give me an expert second opinion.”

“You don’t have to say it, Hanna. I understand. I’m low man on the totem pole, so it makes perfect sense that I should be the one to leave and make room for the new high priestess.”

She smiled and nodded. “Thank you. I admire you greatly, Dru. You’re the kind of man who’ll make a wonderful witch, if you choose to pursue Wicca.”

He returned the dough to a bowl and covered it with a damp towel to let it rise a second time, he asked, “You knew?”

“Knew what?”

“That I wasn’t a real witch.”

“I had my suspicions.”

He chuckled. “Well, I admire you too, Hanna. You were very patient with me that first night. I imagine your next circle will run a whole lot smoother.” He washed and wiped his hands on a paper towel.

“I hope so too. It’s going to be interesting at the very least.”

“It always is,” Rebecca interjected as she brought an empty tray into the kitchen.

“You heard us?” Hanna asked.

“Just the last part.”

“Well, I was just telling Dru we have a new high priestess joining the coven.”

“Really? That’s great. You won’t be the only elder. You’ll just be the
elder
elder.”

Hanna chuckled. “Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel old at
all
.”

Rebecca grinned sheepishly. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t think about how that sounded.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get used to it. But the part of this story you may not like is that Dru is out.”

“Awww…I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay, Rebecca,” Dru said. “I’ve got a whole lot of catchin’ up to do before I’m ready to join a coven. And to tell the truth, bein’ a solitary would work better on the ranch anyway.”

“Oh.” Rebecca’s face fell.

Uh oh. Did she forget I had to leave at some point?

“So, Dru,” Hanna was saying. “You had some questions for me?”

He added some newly baked and cooled scones onto a tray with only two left. “Huh? No. It’s not important.”

“Sure it is. What did you want to know?”

“I was just gonna ask about a book or somethin’ I could read to help me catch up, but it doesn’t matter now.”

At that moment, the little bells rang out front. “If you’ll excuse me…”

Grabbing the tray, he took them out front with him. Even though he really did understand the coven’s need for an elder over a newbie, the rejection stung a little bit.

Rebecca opened the bag of walnuts she planned to chop for banana nut bread and glanced over at Hanna. She couldn’t help feeling a little let down about Dru leaving the coven.

“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Hanna asked.

Rebecca nodded. “I didn’t mean to let that happen. Do you think it was the love spell we did last month?”

The high priestess chuckled. “I highly doubt it. I’m sure it was nature taking its course. But don’t assume you’re headed for heartbreak.”

Rebecca raised her brows hopefully. “Do you know something?”

“We never know anything for sure. That’s what makes life interesting.”

“Hmph.” Rebecca wasn’t sure ‘interesting’ was always a good thing.

“All I’m saying is keep an open mind. Enjoy him now and whatever will be, will be for the best. You know the Goddess is looking out for you, right?”

“Of course.” Rebecca let out a deep sigh. Intellectually, she knew Hanna was speaking the truth. She also knew not to cast a love spell for a particular person, because that was manipulation. The Goddess would either choose Dru or someone better for her. She had to be okay with that. But as far as she was concerned, there was nobody better.

“So, this month’s theme is prosperity. That might be more the type of energy you need for the intention you wanted last month. Would you like help wording the next spell?”

Rebecca chuckled. “Why do I feel like I’m headed for remedial Wicca?”

“No reason unless it’s in your own head. We all make the occasional mistake. I just thought I’d offer to help.”

“Thanks, Hanna. That’s really wonderful of you. I’ll definitely take you up on it.”

“All right. So what is it you really need?”

“First, I need hands-on help. Another baker and someone to step in for days off, illness, etc. It would be great if one of them was good with numbers. I can’t afford an accountant, but I need one—desperately.”

“Okay. Let’s be specific, but not too specific. You want to leave room for the Goddess to find the best solution to your problem.”

“True.” Rebecca grabbed a pad of paper and pen she kept handy for inventory taking and shopping lists.

“How should I begin?”

Hanna shrugged. “How would you like to begin?”

Rebecca tapped her lip with the eraser end of the pencil as she formulated ideas.
To the Goddess of business…No. That sounds like, ‘to whom it may concern.’

“Let’s try talking about how you can help others,” Hanna was saying.

“Sure. Full bellies and happy taste buds are my ultimate goals for my customers.”

Hanna nodded. “Good. Let’s put that in a way that won’t make anyone bloated.”

As Rebecca and Hanna hammered out the details of her spell, she felt calm, knowing things would work out for the best. In fact, she made sure to ask for the best outcome for all concerned.
Now that’s the right way to do a spell.

“I’m looking forward to the next circle now.”

“Good, because it’s less than a week away.”

“Friday, right?”

“Yes.” Hanna rose. “Well, I’m glad we had this chat. I think you’ll be impressed by the new High Priestess.”

“And now I won’t create the wrong impression with a stupid sounding spell.”

Hanna laughed, but didn’t correct her.

“I fell off the bridge—or was pushed—at night, so there were no witnesses,” April’s amnesia buddy said. “It could have been a mugging since I had no wallet on me. At least I hope so.”

April had been looking at her feet. The nearby construction had kicked up a lot of rocks and the walking path was tricky. She looked up and stared at John as they continued their stroll.

“You
hope
it was a mugging?”

“Well, yeah. As opposed to a suicide attempt.”

April gasped. “Suicide! Why would you attempt suicide?”

“Damned if I know,” John said. “No memory. Remember?”

“Yeah. I’m not likely to forget that. But still…”

They walked on in silence—or as much silence as there was around heavy equipment digging up the side of the road.

Eventually, she turned toward him, but before she had a chance to ask him about his accent—he changed the ‘r’ at the end of ‘remember’ to an
ah
sound—she twisted her ankle and went down.

“Owww,” she cried out.

“Are you okay?” John extended his hand, offering to help her up.

“I—I don’t know. I think I sprained my ankle.”

“Jesus,” he said. Without any hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to a nearby house and set her on the front steps. Most of the homes were close to the street and had small front lawns, if they had any at all. “I’ll see if these people are home. Maybe they’ll let us use their phone to call an ambulance.”

Before she had a chance to protest, he had rung the front doorbell.

“Wait. I can’t afford an ambulance.”

“Well, even though you’re light as a feather, I doubt I could carry you all the way to the emergency ward of the nearest hospital. Not to mention I don’t know where that is.”

Light as a feather?
She hadn’t thought of herself that way. Maybe he lifted heavy things in his previous job. She checked out his muscles under his t-shirt. She hadn’t noticed them before. They weren’t the bulging muscles of a weightlifter, but he looked strong.

“Look. Your ankle is swelling already.”

She glanced down and indeed one ankle was reddening and much thicker than the other.

“Here. We should elevate it.” He swung her sideways while supporting her leg until it rested on the step above.

She wondered how he knew to do that. Was he a doctor? Was he faking amnesia?
Crap. If he’s a doctor, I’m way out of my league.
She didn’t even know what her league was. Maybe she was an heiress. That would be handy since she’d have money for an ambulance after recovering her memory.

Finally a middle-aged woman with extremely short hair answered the door. “Can I help you?” She appeared irritated by the interruption until she looked down and saw April on the steps, rubbing her leg. “Oh. What happened?”

“She twisted her ankle. Could we use your phone to call an ambulance?”

“No,” April insisted. “No ambulance. I can’t afford one.”

John raked his hands through his dark hair. “Well, then what do you propose? Should I ask her if she has a wheelbarrow so I can roll you to the emergency ward?”

She chuckled, despite the dull throb in her ankle. John sounded well educated. Maybe he really was a doctor.

The woman stepped outside and squatted down to examine her ankle. “Can you move it?”

April tried to swivel it back and forth and winced with fresh pain.

“You really should get that x-rayed,” the woman said. “I’ll take you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to cause you any inconvenience,” April said.

The woman frowned. “Too late for that.”

John scooped her up in his arms again and gazed at her fondly.
Yup. He likes rescuing damsels in distress, all right
, April thought.

“I’ll just get my purse.” The woman went inside and returned in less than a minute. She locked her door and led the way to her car, which was parked in her driveway.

John carefully placed April in the back seat and had her scoot all the way to the other side, keeping her injured leg out straight. Then he joined the woman in the front seat.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said. “It certainly beats carrying her all the way to the hospital.”

The woman laughed. “Yeah. Good luck with that. It’s about five miles from here.”

Regardless of her real circumstances, April had learned something about people. She had experienced a lot of kindness from strangers. Even if something bad had happened to her to cause her fugue, the world wasn’t all bad.

Dru returned to the rooming house after a busy day at the bakery. At least Rebecca seemed to be in better spirits, and the coven was meeting tonight. She was looking forward to the added energy aimed at prosperity—in her case, finding a new full-time baker.

He took the stairs to his room a little more slowly than usual. Even though the place was tidy and his little efficiency was indeed efficient, staying at the rooming house had lost its appeal.

He went to unlock the door, but he locked it instead.
Huh? Did I leave it unlocked this morning?
When he opened the door shock slammed into him. The place had been ransacked. Drawers were left open and many of his clothes were gone. He checked the closet. Sure enough, the leather jacket he had worn in the spring was missing.

Then he looked up with trepidation.
Damn it!
His cowboy hat was gone. Nothing else mattered. Not even the pricey jacket. He could never replace a sentimental item like the hat Shasta had given him for his twenty-first birthday. He knew she couldn’t afford it and must have saved up for quite a while. Not only that, but it fit him like a glove.

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then he yelled it. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck!”

Some guy poked his head in. “What’s going on?”

Dru whirled on him. “Someone burglarized my room.”

The guy entered and strolled around. “At least they left your underwear.”

Dru snorted.

The guy pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “You want a beer?”

“Like that’ll fix anything,” Dru grumbled.

“Whatever.” The guy shrugged and left him to deal with his disappointment alone.

Dru sank onto the twin bed. There wasn’t much he could do unless he saw someone wearing his jacket or cowboy hat around. That was unlikely. They had probably been sold to support someone’s drug habit.

He wanted to yell again.

At least he had his wallet in his back pocket. He’d brought a checkbook and left it in his suitcase, but that was probably gone too. He lifted the bedspread and peered under the bed. The suitcase was still there. After he yanked it out into the open and checked the inside pocket, he found his checkbook.
Whew.
“Well, there’s one less disaster to contend with.”

The biggest problem at this point would be finding somewhere else to stay. He hadn’t planned on staying this long in the first place. Hotels weren’t cheap, but he didn’t feel very secure staying here anymore.

Maybe Hanna knew of one.
Would it be in bad taste to ask her to recommend a cheap competitor? Yeah, probably. I think I remember seein’ a place where they always leave the lights on.

As all these thoughts swirled through his head, his phone rang. He yanked it out of the case on his belt and gazed at the number. It’s the ranch.

“’Lo.”

“Dru. It’s Pete. Where the hell are you?”

“I’m still in New England. New Hampshire to be exact. You hear anything from Shasta?”

Pete blew out a breath and seemed exasperated. “No. When do you think you might be comin’ back?”

“When I find her.”

“Well, when’s that gonna be?”

“I wish I knew. I had a couple of leads and I think I’m closin’ in. I even thought I saw her once.”

“You thought you saw her?”

“Yeah, but the young lady had short hair. Kind of dark straw blonde.”

“People can change their hair.”