The Time Witch - Part 8

LINKS: The Beginning, Last Part (7), Time Witch page

Short on time? Scan the text and just read the Bold parts. Then come back later and read the whole thing.

Recap: Evangeline and Samuel connect in 1910, with both sharing what neither wants to say a loud. Evangeline admits Samuel is a ghost in her time, and might have met an untimely end in his. While Samuel shares that Baxter Creek has a Coven of Witches.

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“Witches? That’s what you’re not saying?”

Evangeline stuffed down an oath. They’d get nowhere if she had to peel away at every backward way of thinking buried into the fiber of the early nineteen hundreds. 

Samuel gave her a sheepish shrug. It looked ridiculous on his tall, capable body.

Evangeline didn’t want to be distracted, but the man was a form of clickbait, although the in-person kind. Standing with him in the Carnegie Library’s lobby, several months away from its interior being completed, she revealed how they’d moved from brand new acquaintances to spilling the most unbelievable secrets. Witches, though…?

“You know, women can get together, and it doesn’t mean they’re conjuring up spells or stirring some big old, evil bubbling cauldron,” she huffed, tempering the words with a laugh. “Well, you know, unless it’s a cooking club.”

Missing the humor, Samuel leaned toward her. Too close, actually, as she could smell the earthy musk from all the hours he’d worked outdoors. It was intoxicating. Especially when he watched her as if trying to read her thoughts.

“Clever though you may be,” he said, clearly committed to making her understand, “take caution to heart. Baxter Creek is home to many an oddity. I know that a coven is only one of them.”

Unable to discount the coven news, Evangeline let it go. “Okay. Fine. I haven’t lived here long—”

His quick, questioning look interrupted her. 

“I haven’t lived in future Baxter Creek long,” she amended, “but a bunch of people practicing magic isn’t normal. It would be kept secret.”

Samuel’s lips turned upward. “I take heart that our experiences concur.”

“Okay, so there’s a secret coven in town,” Evangeline said. “Heck, in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve witnessed time travel, ghosts, and weird visions, so sure, let’s say Baxter Creek is home to witches. Bring it on!”

Samuel tilted his head toward hers. “Your acceptance is comforting, but I am quite curious as to why you have traveled through time? Traveled to me.” Their faces were so close the question caused his breath to caress her cheek. 

She’d felt the sensation before, back in her Baxter Creek. The ghost had been as familiar. 

“Such a loaded question,” Evangeline murmured. “I feel like I know you, Samuel.”

“As do I, from the first moment.”

Trying not to watch his lips, Evangeline licked hers. Time stalled; at least, it felt slower. One breath. Two breaths. She counted. His lips slowly parted. Full. Strong. Could they also be soft? Kissable? She should know already. Just breathe. 

And time started again.

Evangeline blinked. She couldn’t be sure she’d slowed down time, but a tingle tickled her arms. “Is it hot in here?” She couldn’t tell if it was the man or the situation, but a flush rushed through her body.

“It is a rather warm day,” he smiled.

The heat, however, radiated between the couple.

I should be scared shitless, but I’m not, Evangeline thought. Remarkably, it had only taken a man from the past to awaken her confidence. What is it about him?

“You feel like home,” Evangeline whispered, answering her private question. She wasn’t even sure if he heard because he didn’t comment. Suddenly, the distance between them felt too close. She leaned back, and the crate squeaked.

The sound jarred her mind, stopping her from imagining a future with Samuel. Not only had she just met him, but he lived in 1910. Pointing at her jeans, she decided to protect herself by talking as much as possible. “Time travel? Yes, time travel is why I’m dressed so odd. I mean, it’s different than what you’d expect. This is stylish, in my time. Casual, but accepted.”

Trying not to glance at her legs, he nodded approval. “I’m sure you would dazzle in any decade.”

Is he flirting? It took her by surprise. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, having no idea about the customs of his time. No, it doesn’t matter, she thought, not wanting to know. It can’t happen!

Finding the crate too hard and close to Samuel, Evangeline stood. “In the future,” she said, “I own this library. It’s mine. And not just the building but all the books. All the history.”

He leaned back on his hands. “Remarkable. A woman owns my library.”

Evangeline nodded. “Women own a lot of things.”

With a little twirl, she filled her lungs, almost able to smell the booky essence of its future atmosphere. It helped her to manage the things that she dared not talk about. Not yet. “I don’t really know why I’ve come to this time,” she said, “but I’m here because I pushed on a panel in a closet that will one day be right here.”

She stopped on the spot.

“How would you know about the closet?” Samuel got up as well, following her lead. He took a step in her direction yet kept his distance. “You mentioned it before, but the blueprints had the closet behind the receptionist’s desk. I’ve changed the plans. I thought it would serve its purpose better if we used part of the librarian lounge and enlarged the closet. Right on the spot where you are standing.” 

He looked at her in wonder, joining her at the closet’s future location. His eyes held a question and a deeper acceptance of her wild claims.

“I know everything about the library,” Evangeline said. “It’s my library. I was drawn to it, and every inch is amazing—like the reading nook!”

She hurried toward the corner where she’d put the burgundy leather chair. “This whole side will be your reading room, but I’m putting the cafe at that end with tables and chairs, and I’ve created the perfect place—right here—to sit and read a book.” She stood on the spot.

Watching her animated face, Samuel shook his head. “It makes little sense to me, yet I’m won over. How may I aid your quest—the one against this darker horizon, as yet unnamed?”

“Tell me about the coven,” Evangeline said. “Are they really practicing magic? Like spells and potions and conjuring?”

Samuel bit his lip, stalling. “I grew up on whispers of how the coven appeared twenty years ago, when I was but a wee lad, too young to build my own memories of their arrival.”

“Interesting,” Evangeline said, “I’m surprised your family wasn’t more forthcoming once you grew up. Why keep it a secret from you?”

“Unknown.” Samuel put a hand on the window frame. “While the coven was not welcomed into town, no one moved against them.”

“Why not?”

Locking eyes, Samuel said: “None dared, although they were approached. A dialogue began, even though my people had little experience with the Craft.”

“So there’s no chance they’re just a quilting group or something?” Evangeline pushed back on the idea of witches one more time.

He shook his head no. “I cannot believe that something as astonishing as your arrival and something as mysterious as the coven are not entwined together.”

Evangeline felt they were on the brink of finding out something important. “I need to meet the coven,” she said, “or go to this apothecary and face Adas Abernathy.” The second option did not fill my heart with joy.

Samuel’s handsome face sunk into a frown. “Neither is appealing.”

“Agreed,” I sighed, “yet we’re doing one of them. That is, if you’ll join me?”

“You cannot mean today?”

“Why not?” Evangeline heard the ticking again. It scratched at her brain more than her ears. “Do you hear a clock?”

“I do not.” He paused, listening.

“Here’s the thing,” Evangeline said, feeling the ticking as a warning: “We have an opportunity to disrupt whatever is working against us.”

Samuel’s tone deepened, thoughtful. “I hear the truth in all you’ve shared and fervently wish success, yet Adas is noxious, and the Coven has grown in number. Even if I can find others to stand with us, we are disadvantaged, especially given all their… unknown talents. Surely, you can see how foolhardy it would be to blunder into things we know not fully of?”

She couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. “Blunder? Would it really be so bad to just talk?”

“Apologies,” he said, “yet I can be of little help if I must coach my words.”

Waving away the need, Evangeline appreciated hearing the truth. “You can speak freely, but what’s the alternative? We drag our feet until we know for sure and then act? Probably too late?” A rush of frustration tinted her cheeks with an attractive, rosy hue.

His eyes linger on her face. “My inclination would be to precede with a modicum of caution, given the probability of tampering with future events. It is decidedly reckless, especially given our limited knowledge of what has already transpired to bring us together.” He paused, giving her a chance to comment. When she didn’t, he continued, “Adas Abernathy and the coven are distinct conundrums, and as such, I fear they could as easily aid as harm our endeavors.”

Evangeline shrugged, knowing his point made sense, but she didn’t even believe in witches and really needed to Google apothecaries. The silence dragged on between them. Samuel rubbed the back of his neck. It caused his gaze to tilt upward. His watchful eyes fixated on the windows high above their heads. He pointed a finger. She looked up to see several hummingbirds. They hovered outside the windows. Five in total. Their wings blurred with the effort, beating too fast for the human eye. The small-bodied avian jerked in staccato bursts—left, up, right, left—yet easily maintained the altitude.

“Are they attracted to their reflection?” Evangeline asked. 

Samuel made a negative sound, equally puzzled. “The reflection would be minimal, I should think.”

“Is that normal?” Evangeline couldn’t shake the feeling that the hummers were peeking into the library.

“I have never witnessed such a display.”

The birds held the elevation with astounding skill, practically putting on a show. Their vibrant, rust-colored neck feathers reflected the sun. They shimmered, bending the light as if it refracted through crystals.

Evangeline gasped. The sight triggered a memory—a recent one. “I saw hummingbirds at my library, too.”

“How remarkable.” Samuel absently rubbed his chin, betraying a soothing habit.

“They were hanging—hovering—outside the library’s front steps.” She thought it over and curiosity changed to concern. “That was just before coming back this time.”

Samuel turned to her. “Also, five hummingbirds?”

“The police chief and his men spotted them,” she nodded. “They joked that the birds were watching us.”

“When exactly?” he asked.

“After I reported the skeleton. The whole town turned up to investigate.”

Lips formed a grim line. Samuel blinked. “I believe you mentioned that our days have not been syncing, which begs the question: When was your occurrence? Day or night?”

“At night.”

“Hummingbirds are diurnal, meaning they sleep at night,” Samuel said as if something were terribly off. “And I must admit to never witnessing a hummer in Baxter Creek. They are usually in the southern part of our state. However, migration patterns would change over the years, perhaps accounting for the ones you saw. However, we must consider another reason for such a rare appearance to transpire in both of our time periods, especially since your attendance graced each event.”

He held her surprised gaze as their mental wheels turned in harmony. No words were necessary—only a glance—their understanding complete. Evangeline’s body shivered with the silent communication, never experiencing anything like it before. She knew Samuel wanted to go outside and sneak closer to the birds, and in turn, he sensed her agreement. 

He nodded toward the front door. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

They moved as one. Samuel got there first, a careful touch causing the door to swing open with care and urgency. Evangeline played along, as if nothing were amiss. Their steps hurried them out and around the side of the library to a vantage point. It allowed a view of the hummingbirds, including the roof line and open land to the South Side of the library. Trees speckled the area, partially hiding a woman.

Samuel caught Evangeline around the waist, abruptly stopping them and bringing her close. The move startled her, but she played along, pushing away any thoughts about the thrill of his touch. She focused on the task at hand, spying on the spies. For all appearances, they’d stopped for a romantic tryst, not their true purpose—to observe the area.

“The birds are controlled,” he whispered. 

Evangeline didn’t need him to throw out a name. The woman could only be part of one group—the Coven—but how they were doing it was beyond belief. “They’re spying on us… with hummingbirds?”

Whatever this is, Evangeline thought, I’m in way over my head.

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