4 Witching On A Star by Amanda M. Lee Page A

asked.
    Landon looked dubious. “Can’t you put a spell on her or something?”
    “What? A He Stinks spell?” Thistle looked agitated.
    “I don’t know,” Landon shrugged. “Like maybe make her think she’s smelling garbage whenever he’s near her or something. Or maybe make her want to throw up when he looks at her. Or, can’t you give her like a month-long period so she’s crabby and wants to stay in bed with a heating pad all day until he leaves?”
    Thistle and I exchanged surprised glances.
    “You’re more devious than I initially gave you credit for,” Thistle said finally. “I like it. We’ll talk to Aunt Tillie and see what she can do.”
    “We’re going to go to Aunt Tillie and ask her to curse Clove?” I bit my lower lip. I didn’t like that idea.
    “Do we have a lot of other options?”
    “No,” I shook my head. “Fine. We’ll go to Aunt Tillie.”
    “She’s going to hold this over our heads forever,” Thistle complained.
    “There are worse things,” Landon interjected, never moving his eyes from Sam as he and Clove moved back towards us with the bags of food. “Trust me, there are worse things.”

Ten
    After lunch, I made an excuse so I wouldn’t have to go back to The Whistler with Sam. Instead, I returned to the guesthouse and worked from home for the rest of the afternoon. Landon said he was going to check on a few things and then meet me up at the inn for family dinner. Once he’d decided that Sam was up to something, that idea was all he could focus on.
    I had been working at home for a few hours when I heard Thistle and Clove return. It’s not like I could have missed them, they were squabbling like a couple of cats in a bathtub.
    “You don’t even know him,” Clove complained bitterly. “You just don’t like him on general principle.”
    “That’s not true,” Thistle shot back. “I don’t like him because I’ve met him and he’s shady.”
    “How is he shady?”
    “Were you even listening to the conversation? He practically asked us if we were witches.”
    “He did not,” Clove looked horrified. “He’s a history lover. That’s not a bad thing. You’re just looking for a reason to dislike him.”
    “He sees ghosts and he’s a history lover?” Thistle challenged her.
    “We don’t know that he sees ghosts, Bay just suspects that,” Clove whined. “Bay, back me up here.”
    I glanced between the two of them. “We don’t know that he sees ghosts,” I said finally. “Maybe I’m just projecting.”
    Thistle opened her mouth to argue, but I silenced her with a wave of my hand. “We also don’t know that he’s not up to something. We’re just asking you to think about it and stay away – at least until we know more.”
    Clove didn’t look happy with the suggestion. “Fine,” she said. “I just think you guys are suspicious of everyone, though.”
    “With good reason,” Thistle grumbled.
    “We’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?” Clove countered angrily. “And, when I’m right, I’m going to make you both do a little song and dance number telling me I’m right.”
    “We’ll be happy to,” Thistle said boldly. I could tell she didn’t believe, even for a second, that she would ever have to make good on that promise.
     
    TWO HOURS later, the three of us let ourselves into the back door of the inn – the one that led into the family living quarters – and we were still fighting. For a change, none of us were fighting aloud, though. Instead, we were fighting with our silence. That was something that wasn’t lost on Aunt Tillie – who was parked in front of the television watching Jeopardy .
    “What are you three fighting about?”
    “Who says we’re fighting?” Thistle asked in surprise.
    “Usually you’re all gossiping like a bunch of clucking hens when you come in here,” Aunt Tillie replied, her eyes never moving from the television. “I usually have to tell you to quiet down so I can watch my show. Not today,