Of Stars and Spells Read online

  Shaking, I start to jog again, Sirius beside me, and keep my gaze averted as I pass the drive. I feel Quinn’s eyes watching, and I know in my gut, he does recognize me. I can’t believe he’s blown me off, but then, it’s been years and it’s obvious he doesn’t want to resume our relationship now.

  Fine with me. I’ve moved on too.

  Sort of.

  I lift my chin and speed up, blowing past the open gate.

  “You’re not going to welcome me home, Stargazer?”

  The sound of his voice makes me pull up short. I close my eyes for a heartbeat, letting it sink in. With my ability to feel the emotions of others, I instantly connect with his—an old habit. I feel a wave of consternation and worry oozing from him, although he’s trying hard to cover it.

  Not over me, but his family.

  When it comes to me? I probe deeper with my magick, wondering if he has any feelings for me after all this time.

  All I find is a wall.

  The familiar nickname warms my chilled cheekbones. As an astrologer, I love the stars, and I have a particular fascination with a cluster called the Pleiades, the seven sisters. I’ve been studying them since my dad gave me my first handheld telescope when I was ten.

  Quinn was one of the few, outside my family, who considered my fascination interesting, rather than weird. Hence the reason he called me Stargazer most of my life.

  I turn partially to glance back and I’m once more struck with the fact he’s filled out since I last saw him. He’s wearing only the uniform—no coat—and I wonder if he’s cold. His pec muscles strain under the gold buttons and bright medals, his biceps bulging as he crosses his arms over his chest.

  What a nice chest it is. And Merlin’s beard, I’m a sucker for a man in uniform.

  The skin on his face and neck is tan, and I see a hint of stubble on his jaw. His green eyes are a beautiful moss color that draw me in, but there are new crow’s feet in the corners.

  “It’s good to see you,” I say, and mentally slap my palm against my forehead. It is, but it sounds trite after all these years.

  And I’m pissed, I remind myself. I should keep running and forget I ever saw him.

  He moves to the wooden fence and leans on it, looking me over from head to toe. “Good to see you, too, Autumn. You look…” He seems at a loss. “More beautiful than ever.”

  Finish your run, I instruct myself. Leave him in the dust.

  But my mind tumbles with all of my questions. Where have you been? How could you break my heart like that?

  I lift my chin a little higher. “How’s the world of national intelligence?”

  His eyes shutter and he glances away. “Interesting.”

  Wow, how descriptive. I suppose it’s all hush-hush, top-secret this, undercover that. He can’t discuss it, yada, yada, yada. “Are you home for good, or just a vacation?”

  He glances toward the house. “Dad’s in the hospital.” His gaze comes back to mine, sharp and hard. “Fell off a ladder yesterday. I was up north when I got the call, thank God, and not out of the country. Got home before visiting hours were over and I had to convince the nurses to let Mom and I spend the rest of the night with him.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I take a step forward and Sirius comes with me. “I hadn’t heard. What happened?”

  Quinn’s churning emotions make my stomach cramp, but he keeps a tight rein on them. “No one is sure. He was here alone. He shouldn’t have been on a ladder, but it looks like he was trying to clean the gutters, which is Kirk’s job. Anyway, he broke his leg and has a nasty concussion. He’s been in and out of it all night. I ran home to get a couple of Mom’s things and update Kirk.”

  The hired hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

  He shakes his head. “Kirk will be here any minute to open up. But thanks.”

  “Please don’t hesitate to call if you need someone to run the stand. I can cancel my appointments this afternoon and do it.”

  He stares at me for a long moment. “You’d do that for me, after the way I’ve behaved?”

  There’s a part of me that wants to say, of course, but pride keeps me from it. “Your mom and dad have always been good to me. I would do it for them.”

  He nods. “They always liked you and your sisters, even though Mom lights a candle at Mass every week for you.”

  Quinn’s parents are die-hard Catholics.

  Sirius takes a step toward the path, ready to get me out of here. “We appreciated their help when Mom died a year ago.”

  “I was so sorry to hear that. It must have been an awful blow. How have you been?”

  Terrible. “I miss her every day.”

  Sirius whines. Quinn glances at the dog. “Hey, buddy, have you been taking care of Stargazer for me?”

  Sirius cocks his head. He was only a puppy when Quinn left, but I swear the dog knows he broke my heart. One lips curls. “Down boy,” I say. “He’s a jerk, but not worth the effort.”

  Quinn snorts and bends down, looking at Sirius between the slats in the fence. He puts out a hand to let Sirius sniff it. My familiar’s ears stay up, though, and he gives Quinn a very subtle lick on his knuckles before he steps back and snarls again.

  Quinn gives up on making friends, straightening. “I’m not sure if he likes me or not.”

  “Not sure if I do either. Guess you better be on your best behavior, flyboy.”

  Quinn salutes me.

  Swallowing past the pain lodged in my heart, I give Sirius a nudge and we take off.

  2

  The morning is filled with customers. We’re sold out of donuts within the first hour.

  I also sell the last of the crystal skulls, crow statues, and assorted Halloween decorations. Several buy crystal balls for Halloween parties, others tarot cards. A few regulars come in to stock up on Spring’s Fall Passion and chai teas. I’m so busy, I barely have time to think about Quinn and his parents.

  “I have a customer wanting two pumpkins,” Hale, our handyman, says when he enters through the back. “The wagon display is bare, and Spring said the ones in the garden are for pies. I’m not to touch them. Do you have extras hiding somewhere?”

  “Sorry, no,” I tell him. “We ordered another delivery yesterday from Harrington Farms, but Mr. Harrington’s in the hospital. Can you check with Kirk and see if perhaps we can pick up some later?”

  Storm rushes in, the sound of her boyfriend’s voice drawing her. She kisses Hale on the cheeks. I predicted they were right for each other a year ago from their birth charts. Took them long enough to let the stars guide them. “If you need help, I’ll go,” she volunteers.

  Hale gives me a thumbs-up and kisses her before they depart. I don’t know what we would do without the two of them. This is another thing I’ve been considering—along with expanding Conjure, we need more help.

  I uploaded an astrological blog and YouTube video on Sunday and I need to check for comments and questions. Trouble is, I can’t before my first client arrives. I’m dying to do a tarot spread for myself to see if Quinn’s return is a good thing, but there’s been zero time.

  I hand the reins to Winter, who’s taking over for the next few hours, since Spring still isn’t caught up on baking orders.

  Winter hates working behind the counter because she has little patience for customers. I’d swear she’s a Scorpio sun, but Scorpio is her rising sign, which still fits. Scorpio is my moon, so we balance each other many days.

  The afternoon flies by, my clients a mix of those who believe strongly in magick and astrology, and others who are a bit skeptical, even though they’re coming to me for information about themselves and their relationships.

  The pictures covering my walls are a testament to my matchmaking skills, all of it based in the stars. By the time I’m through, I’m mentally exhausted and emotionally drained. I work hard to keep my energy in check and guard against taking on other’s emotions, but my clairsentience is extremely sensitive. Especially after seeing Quinn.
/>   After my last client leaves, I kick back for a few moments and imagine white lights surrounding me, cosmic energy washing through me to get rid of any negative stuff left from the readings. I take jet and black tourmaline crystals out of my pockets and put them on the table. I wave selenite across the tops of the healing stones and again imagine white light clearing them. The crystals and I are going to need a salt bath later with plenty of rose essential oil in it.

  Maybe then I can take out the memory of Quinn and how he looked standing there, all that hardness in his face, the churning of his emotions, those bulging muscles…

  It will be nice to spend a few minutes letting myself enjoy the vision, even if he did break my heart. After I soak up some of his deliciousness, I’ll throw a few darts at one of his pictures to cheer myself up.

  Then I’ll pull some cards and see what the universe has to say about the situation.

  As if I’ve conjured him, I swear I hear Quinn’s voice in the main room. I look over and find Godfrey in the open doorway of my office. The cat was our mother’s familiar and talks to those of us blessed with telepathy. Summer hears him more than I do, but today, he communicates quite clearly. Do you want me to scratch his eyes out?

  Most of the time he’s a typical diva cat, assuring all of us he’s actually Einstein and so much smarter than we are. Maybe he really is the original genius reincarnated—I don’t put anything past the workings of the Universe—but if so, I sure think he could put his intelligence to better use than scorning those of us who feed and shelter him.

  Now, however, with his pronouncement, I sort of want to hug him. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

  I swear the cat winks before padding off on silent feet. Returning my crystals to my pockets, I stand and go see why Quinn Harrington is out front.

  He’s changed into a sweatshirt, and has the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Leather work gloves cover his hands. He looks strong and determined, his eyes showing me he’s worried about his dad, the farm.

  “Has something happened? Did your dad wake up?”

  “Hello, Autumn,” he says, quietly, his eyes drinking me in.

  I check myself. “Hello, Quinn.”

  We stay like that, staring at each other, for several thuds of my heart.

  “He’s getting worse,” he finally offers. “Hasn’t come to all day and the doctors are concerned about his blood pressure.”

  Winter swings around the counter and stands near me, a show of support. She remembers how devastated I was when Quinn up and left. Spring arrives from the kitchen, Storm trailing after her.

  More support. I love them all. “That’s awful, but he’s strong”—like you, I almost add—“if anyone can pull through this, he can.”

  After Mom died, each of us dealt with our grief in different ways. Watching the tug of emotions contorting Quinn’s face, a part of me understands where he’s coming from, the emotions that have him tied up right now.

  He gives me a tight nod. “Kirk and I brought pumpkins. Hale is helping Kirk unload them now.”

  “Did you bring an invoice?” Winter asks, all business. At my chastising look for her insensitivity, she shrugs. “I just want to pay him.”

  Quinn waves her off. “There’s no hurry. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep the place open as it is.”

  “But the farm is profitable,” Spring interjects. “At least, that’s what your dad always says. That’s why Algon Corp is trying to buy the property, isn’t it?”

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “You heard about that?”

  We all nod. “They want to buy us out too,” I tell him. “They’ve been trying to since July. We’re not sure exactly what they’re planning, but we think they want to turn this whole strip into condos or something.”

  He shakes his head. “Dad will never sell, but if he can’t recover, there’s no way Mom can run it by herself, even with Kirk.” He glances at all of us. “You can’t trust them, okay? No matter what they tell you, no matter what they offer, steer clear of them.”

  I can’t help it; I reach out and touch his arm. I’m overwhelmed by his sadness—he can’t imagine his parents living anywhere else, but the land is their income. They have to be able to continue to sell fruit and vegetables at the market in the summer, the pumpkins, mums, and crafts in the fall, Christmas trees during the holidays.

  But more than that, I sense fear in his voice. It’s as if he knows this Algon group and wants us to stay far away from them.

  “We’ll do whatever we can to help you and your parents,” I insist, ignoring his warnings about the other. “They’ve always been good neighbors.”

  For the first time, his eyes soften. “Thank you.” He glances around, sees the customers busy selecting their purchases, and all the products we have now compared to when he left. “Looks like you’re quite successful.”

  This is only part of it. My chest swells a little with pride. “We have a strong online presence all over the world through our website, blog, and social media, as well. We sell crystals of all kinds, along with teas, soaps, and essential oils. For the more die-hard Wiccans, we carry an assortment of ritual items, and those who enjoy our full moon ceremonies have formed their own community that’s growing every day.”

  “We’ve had a few set-backs here and there,” Spring adds, and I know she’s thinking of Mom, “but we are blessed.”

  He gives me a small smile, as though he’s as proud of all I’ve accomplished with my sisters as I am. “Well, I better get back. Kirk and I have several more deliveries to make before I return to the hospital.”

  As he says goodbye to the others, I walk with him to the front porch. A pair of women go past, both eyeing him with interest. The wagon Hopper Caldwell built for Summer’s birthday party is centered there with hay bales and cornstalks, mums, and now pumpkins once more, thanks to Kirk and Hale.

  “I appreciate you bringing those by. Again, if there’s anything I can do…”

  He stops and looks up at the sky, then cuts his gaze toward me, giving me the side-eye. “Have dinner with me tonight?”

  The invitation takes me completely off guard and my heart skips instead of thudding. I ignore it, but we need to clear the air between us. Dinner seems like a safe way to tackle the elephant in the room.

  “As long as you’re buying,” I order. “You owe me that.”

  He gives me a full-on smile now. “I do. More than dinner, I’m afraid.”

  There it is again—that stare. I refuse to look away. “We’ll start with a meal.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  He leaves and I silently question again where he’s been, what he’s been doing during his time in the Air Force.

  His brother’s death was certainly an unexpected blow to all of them. It’s the reason Quinn signed up, and with his college degree and pilot training already under his belt, it’s no surprise he became an officer.

  Even though his parents are devout Catholics and it’s very important to them, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington have always been kind and helpful to us and that has meant more than many other things in my lifetime. They’ve never looked down their noses or considered us evil, which many in Raven Falls have. They never discouraged Quinn from dating me.

  If anything, they’re the opposite of what I think when it comes to the term “religious.” They’re open to all faiths, and show compassion and acceptance to everyone they meet. They simply believe in letting others live and worship the way they feel moved.

  My sisters and I believe the same, that we are all one with the energy of the universe.

  As I watch Quinn and Kirk drive away, I bite my lip, considering my new dinner plans.

  Godfrey sits at my foot. He’s up to something, he says telepathically.

  Have to say I agree.

  But what?

  3

  Once Quinn is gone, we all return to work. The scent of clove and orange peel incense dancing in the air as the late afternoon hours zoom by.

  As soon as
there’s a break, I grab Spring and Winter and we join Summer in her treatment room. She’s trying to catch up with online orders and is using our extra folding tables as shipping stations.

  “Sister meeting,” I announce as the rest of us file in.

  She gives me a questioning look, but then hands out invoices and tape rollers. She’s dressed in a deep purple velvet dress that sets off her strawberry blond hair. Bracelets made of garnets, amethyst, and black tourmaline stack both wrists. “Fine, but everyone has to work. We need these ready before UPS shows up. Should be here in ten minutes or less. Get busy.”

  She has the items laid out with the corresponding shipping boxes and the three of us start packing.

  “Yes or no?” I ask.

  Spring and Winter know what I’m talking about. Summer doesn’t even bother to look at me. “Yes or no what?”

  “Quinn wants to take me for dinner in an effort to mend our relationship.”

  Summer freezes as she’s folding down the long flap of a box and Spring brings her up to speed about Mr. Harrington’s injuries, as each of us finish loading our boxes. “Quinn was just here a few minutes ago to deliver a batch of pumpkins. He wants to take Autumn to dinner and says it’s the least he owes her.”

  Summer snorts, sounding like Winter. “Is this really up for debate?”

  Spring places the label on and shoves it aside to reach for the next. “Everyone deserves a second chance. We all make mistakes.”

  “He’s had plenty of time to apologize.” This from Winter.

  Summer is nodding as she stacks a finished box on top of Spring’s. “I agree with Winter on this. He’s back in town because his dad’s in the hospital, and he wants to take you out for dinner as though nothing happened?”

  “He’s not telling the whole truth about why he cut ties with me,” I say, “which happened when the Air Force recruited him into their intelligence division. I know they’re linked somehow, but I can’t pick up on why or how. He’s too guarded.”