Magic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 7) Read Online Free Page A

talk, don’t you, Cin? You know that she’s just a sad woman living alone and not really a witch.”
    I swallowed hard and realized that a small puddle of sweat had pooled above my upper lip, despite the chilly air.
    I had the uneasy sensation that we’d been standing there too long, looking at the house.
    That someone might have taken notice.
    “I know,” I said, wiping away the sweat with a quick motion. “Just… it’s just those things you hear about when you’re a kid have a way of staying with you.”
    Daniel squeezed my shoulder and pulled me closer.
    “C’mon,” he said. “There’s no reason for us to be here.”
    We turned our backs on the old house, and started walking again, back down to where the homes were bright with lights and decorations.
    Compared to Hattie Blaylock’s old house, the rest of the homes on Santa’s Nightmare Lane were just child’s play.
    “I’m sure Hattie was just looking in your storefront window earlier because your pies are just so damn tempting,” Daniel said as we got farther away.
    “You think?”
    “Yeah,” he said. “Hell, if I hadn’t been out of my home in a decade, your pie shop would be the first place I’d go to, too.”
    I smiled slightly, but it faded faster than a flame in a downpour.
    Because there was one other thing that kids said about old Hattie Blaylock.
    That if you did indeed have the bad fortune of seeing her, then you would be the next to die.
    Daniel stopped in his tracks and reached for my hand, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
    “Cin, it’s just kids’ stuff,” he repeated. “Kids always make things up like that. It comes with living in a small town. Don’t give it a second thought, all right?”
    He brushed his free hand against my cheek.
    I looked up into his eyes. They caught the electric glow of the moon, and they sparkled with warmth and love.
    “You’re right,” I said, letting out a breath.
    We started walking again, leaving behind Santa’s Nightmare Lane.
    “C’mon,” he said. “Enough Halloween for the night. Let’s get you home and into a bubble bath.”
    I smiled.
    The phrase “bubble bath” had to be one of the sweetest in the English language.
     

 
    Chapter 7
     
    “So then she puts a hand on my arm and says ‘Oh, Kara, doll, it’s just because you don’t know him well enough. John’s never cared for mustard. That’s the kind of thing that you get to know about your husband after being together a long time.’”
    She paced thunderously up and down the pie shop kitchen, her blond hair bouncing hard with each step. The pumpkin caramel latte in her hand was coming dangerously close to slopping over the sides of the paper cup.
    “I came so close to blowing my top, Cin. You wouldn’t believe it. Do you know how much mustard that man goes through every month? You’d think ketchup and every other condiment, for that matter, didn’t exist. So you know what I did? I took a picture of the inside of our fridge, of all those half-empty mustard bottles, and I texted it to her saying ‘I guess I just don’t know my husband well enough.’”
    I looked up from the bowl of creamy pumpkin pie filling I was whisking.
    “Oh, Kara. You didn’t ,” I said.
    She nodded her head – her face holding absolutely no trace of regret.
    After what appeared to be a truce of sorts during the pregnancy and subsequent birth of Laila, the interfamily feuding between Kara and her mother-in-law, Edna Billings, had resumed to full strength. The bickering had started out small: little battles about nursery wall colors and baby books that were seemingly typical of the in-law relationship. But lately, the arguments had expanded to include proper mothering techniques, wife etiquette, and just about everything in between.
    And being Kara’s best friend, I had the “luck” of hearing about every tiff down to the tee.
    “She can’t go pushing me around,” Kara continued. “And the sooner she knows that, the better