Making Magic Read Online Free

floor of a double-wide up in a mountain hollow. At least his mom wasn’t drinking anymore, as far as he could tell.
    “You know that’s not what I mean.” She waved at the street outside the shop window. “It’s those Woodruffs and the kind of people they associate with.”
    Jake frowned. “You mean the people that stay at the cabins? Or the folks who buy their herbs? Or me? I associate with—”
    “It’s those people. Like the ones who visit in that RV. And that new girl.”
    “The one Daniel Woodruff’s marrying next week? That girl?” He had to work hard not to let his frustration creep into his fingers and ruin his carving.
    “Yes, that girl.”
    “Her name is Mel, Mom. And those people in that RV are her parents,” Jake said in a resigned tone. “I’ve met them. Nice folks. Good people.”
    “They’re not normal.”
    “Which ones? The Woodruffs? Or the Nobletts?” Jake asked, no longer being as careful with his tone. “Or is it the whole damn bunch of em?”
    “There is no need to swear at me!”
    The couple considering the carved chess sets looked over and Jake grinned back with his best good-old-boy smile. This was probably going to cost him a sale.
    “There is something strange going on with them and you, of all people, know what I mean.” She lowered her voice. “How many times have you gone up there in the past few months and found people waving guns around and shooting at each other?”
    Jake grimaced and shook his head. “Mom, the Woodruffs were innocent bystanders both those times. The Taggarts were the ones cooking meth up there. Hell, the Taggarts had been on the wrong side of the law for so long I’m surprised Dad, or even Granddad, didn’t catch them at it a long time ago. And those Italian guys got a little over enthusiastic about some kind of industrial espionage that Mel was writing about. She’s a journalist, Mom. It’s a coincidence that it all happened in the past year.” But before that, there had been Logan Woodruff—the Woodsman—whose death hadn’t really been accidental.
    “I don’t believe in coincidence,” she huffed. “Those Woodruffs have always wanted their old home place back. Is it a coincidence that the Taggart boys are in jail now and Annie Taggart is missing? And they can walk in there and take the Taggart place without so much as a by-your-leave? And they’re building fences and bricking things up—”
    She’d been listening to Sister Sarah again. Sarah Rae Scott, who called herself Sister Sarah, had been thick as thieves with Old Annie Taggart right up until Old Annie’s disappearance. “It’s the Woodruff’s house. It’s their property. The Taggarts only lived there because of the Woodsman’s generosity and his father’s before him. Hell, they own the damn mountain.”
    “Jake Moser—”
    “Look, I’ve got a lot of work to do, Mom.” Jake held up his hand to put a halt to any more complaints about his swearing, then ran it through his hair. Part of him was tempted to yank some out. “I don’t have time to listen to all this again. Go on and talk to Sarah. Maybe she’ll give you her ‘easy mark’ discount.” She was trying to buy forgiveness. Forgiveness for things she couldn’t even remember.
    He watched as her mouth pressed into a straight line. She stood and shook out her dress. “I’m just trying to protect you.” She leaned over to brush a dry kiss on his cheek. “You stay safe.” She went quickly out the door.
    Ever since the car accident his mom had ended conversations that way, like some superstitious ritual. He watched her cross the street toward Sarah’s shop, where a simple neon sign sputtered “OPEN” underneath a fancier one that flashed “Psychic” over an unblinking neon eye.
    Jake jumped as the young man spoke up at his elbow. “We’re going to think about it,” he said.
    “I’m buying him a few beers at that Tavern down the way, but we’ll be back,” the young woman added with a wink.