Midwife Cover - Cassie Miles by Intrigue Romance Page B

ritual.”
    “Uh-huh.” His gaze turned guarded and skeptical.
    “Don’t worry,” she said. “I don’t expect you to start chanting. Just be neutral. Don’t put out grumpy vibes.”
    “What kind of ritual? Is this a witchy thing?” He rested the flat of his hand on the countertop and leaned closer, invading her personal space. “Are you going to get naked?”
    “Why would you think that?”
    “Isn’t that what witches do? Take off their clothes and dance around a bonfire in the moonlight?”
    His attitude irritated her. “This is exactly what I expected from you. And exactly what I don’t need. Will you please just be quiet?”
    “Hey, I can keep an open mind. Tell me what you want.”
    “I need matches.”
    From one of the drawers, he took out a box of wooden matches which he handed to her. He stepped back and watched as she lit the sage, allowed it to burn for a moment and blew it out. Fragrant smoke drifted toward the ceiling.
    Holding the smudge stick in her right hand, she recited a blessing that she and her sister had made up for their ritual. “May this house be filled with light and affirmation. As the smoke rises, may it absorb negativity. In this home, we will be safe and happy.”
    The first part of the process was to wipe away the bad thoughts she carried with her. Lowering the smudge stick to her bare feet, she slowly raised it from the floor to the chakra at the top of her head. The smoke drew the negative emotions—anger, fear and hate—to the surface.
    She acknowledged those feelings. They were as much a part of her as generosity, nurturing and love. It would take more than a smudge stick to banish the dark side of her personality. For now, she’d concentrate on the light. She exhaled in a whoosh, blowing those feelings away.
    “There,” she said, “I’m cleansed.”
    “Do me.” He waited, arms hanging loosely at his side.
    She regarded him with a healthy dose of suspicion. Did he really have an open mind or was he teasing again? “Close your eyes and breathe deeply.”
    He did as she said, and she repeated the process with him. The sage burned more brightly as she outlined his body. “Your aura is strong.”
    “If you say so.”
    “I do.”
    She didn’t pretend that her ritual was sacred. Her process didn’t precisely follow any pattern that she was aware of. But smudging made her feel better, and she didn’t want him laughing at her.
    When he opened his eyes, she saw nothing but acceptance. Gently, he said, “I won’t pretend that I understand what you’re doing, but I’m all in favor of positive energy.”
    “Okay.” She was still hesitant. They’d been teasing each other all day.
    “You can trust me,” he said.
    That was a big promise, and a very big step for her. She wanted to believe him. “Come with me while I do the rest of the house.”
    She waved the stick around the windows in the kitchen and the door that led to the deck on the side of the house. In the doorway, the sage crackled and flared.
    “Does that mean something?” he asked.
    “I like to think that the herb is working extra hard to erase whatever happened here. Maybe the couple who lived here before had a fight at this doorway.”
    While she proceeded through the rest of the downstairs, the smudge stick began to burn low. She placed it in the lotus bowl, and waved her hand to waft the smoke into the corners of the rooms. As she did so, she explained, “Bad energy accumulates in the corners. It gets trapped there and hangs around.”
    “I can buy that. It’s a matter of geometry.”
    In the upstairs, she went through the same process. In his bedroom, where he hadn’t yet unpacked many of the boxes, the sage sputtered wildly at the door to his closet. She took a backward step. “Yikes, I wonder what happened there.”
    “I know what it is.” He stepped through the open closet door, reached up to the top shelf and took down a locked metal box. “My guns are in here. Negative