The Witch of Roan Mountain Read online

Page 6


  “Hey, ladies. Sorry to interrupt.”

  Granny smiled from ear to ear. “Campbell, aren’t you just a sweetheart for taking care of our girl?”

  Our girl. They’d called her that for years just not where Maeve could hear. He decided to play it off, make light of it.

  “She got herself in a pinch yesterday, Granny.” He walked to the side of the bed and stood between Maeve and Granny. “She always was trouble.”

  “The best kind!”

  Granny had no idea.

  He could feel Maeve rolling her eyes behind him.

  “When you getting out of her, Granny?”

  “Tomorrow or the next day. I’m ready to go but they want to watch my sugar to make sure my new medicine is keeping it down.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  Granny shook her head. “I’m just fine. Y’all better get on to the cabin before it gets dark. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Call if you need me.” He pivoted on one heel and turned to Maeve. “Ready?”

  She slammed the notebook closed and rose. “Yep.” After kissing her granny on the cheek, she followed him down the hall and out the front door. “Can we get something to eat before we go? I’m starving.”

  Campbell shrugged. “I reckon.” He didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, but he was glad she asked. It would be nice to sit across the table from her instead of eating from a TV tray. “Where do you want to go?”

  “How about the Steakhouse?”

  They drove to the outskirts of Newland and parked in the gravel lot. “Looks like we’re not the only ones who had this idea,” he said. The lot was nearly full.

  After they’d settled at a table and ordered, Campbell asked, “What were you telling Granny about when I walked into the room?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “That woman again?”

  Maeve nodded. “I found out some new information that makes the whole story a little more understandable.”

  He didn’t want to know. Not really. But then again, maybe she found something that would put the lid on her obsession with the legend. Part of him wanted her to get to the bottom of things, the other half of him wanted her to completely forget about it. Not only did ghosts scare him, the legend of Delphine hit too close to home for him. “Is it logical and rational?”

  “Of course it is. It came from newspaper articles I read at the museum.”

  The waitress brought their plates and refilled their drinks. Campbell took a couple of bites of his rib-eye. “Okay, I’ll listen. Tell me what you learned. Just don’t say her name. It gives me chills.”

  Maeve smiled. “It was a big deal in the county, so big even the Asheville newspaper covered it.”

  Campbell raised an eyebrow. He knew more than he was letting on about the story but he didn’t intend to tell Maeve anything because all he had were stories his grandfather told him when he was a kid. “What happened?”

  “I still have a lot of research to do but here’s what I know so far: Delphine was having an affair with a married man named Jenks. She was a widow and he was her first love. His wife, Bessie, found out and according to her account, she confronted them one night. When Jenks rejected Delphine and begged for Bessie’s forgiveness, Delphine shot and killed him.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Maeve added some pepper to her baked potato. “I know. It sounds like parts of two or three different stories all mashed together.”

  “Why would a woman going to meet her lover take a gun?”

  “Bears? Cats?”

  He shook his head. “What happened to Del--. Her. What happened to her?”

  “They hanged her. In addition to charging her with murder, they labeled her a witch. With Bessie, along with scores of other people as a witnesses, her trial was little more than a formality.”

  Campbell had been a sheriff’s deputy for eight years and he’d learned lots of things, chief among them to trust his gut. “It’s not the whole story. Where does the witch part come in?”

  “That’s the sketchy part. The locals blamed what sounds like syphilis on her but that doesn’t ring true. She’d never left the county and the outbreak didn’t happen until after the men came home from The War.”

  “You think they brought it back?”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  Campbell nodded. “What’s your next step?”

  “More research. I guess I’ll take my laptop the library. Granny doesn’t have Wi-Fi.”

  “I have internet at my house.” He didn’t know why he said it. He’d been running into Maeve plenty without inviting her to his house.

  “That’s too much of an imposition. I’ll be fine at the library. Maybe it will be dry enough to get my car tomorrow.”

  “I doubt it. More rain is on the way.”

  “Shit. I need to be able to get around. Granny will be home soon and I need wheels.”

  “We’ll work something out.”

  Maeve shook her head. “She’s my responsibility. I’ve inconvenienced you enough.”

  Campbell saw the fire in Maeve’s eyes and he knew she wouldn’t rest until she got to the bottom of her mystery. She was like a hound, so intent on the scent, nothing else even registered. Maybe her drive was a good thing. Maybe she’d answer some of the questions he had for the last twenty years. “I’ll pick you up in the morning. You can use my car while I work. When I finish my shift, I’ll drive you home.”

  “That’s too much trouble. Really. I’ll figure something out.”

  “No one is going to have any peace until you find the answers. I’d rather you finish sooner than later.”

  When they finished dinner, Campbell drove her home. The night was cool and clear, and he opened the sunroof to let some of the fresh air into the cab. “Winter’s going to come early this year,” he said.

  “When I was in Atlanta, I missed the snow.”

  “It snows there, doesn’t it?”

  “Sometimes but it isn’t the same. There’s nothing more beautiful than the mountains in the snow.”

  He was surprised to hear her say that. “I thought you loved it there.”

  “I loved my job but I missed the mountains. I missed the cabin and Granny and...” Maeve stopped short. It was too much to hope that she was going to say she missed him.

  When they reached the cabin, he angled the Explorer so that his headlights bathed the front door in light. Maeve didn’t get out. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes before she said, “Thanks, again, Campbell. I guess I’d better get inside.”

  He heard the fear in her voice. “Want me to make sure the house is clear?”

  Maeve sighed with relief. “Would you mind?”

  He shook his head. “Wait out here. I’ll be right back.”

  After walking through the cabin and flipping on all the lights, he walked onto the front porch. Standing under the yellow glow of the porch light, he yelled to Maeve, “Ghost-free.”

  She grabbed her things and walked up the steps to the porch. “Thanks,” she said. “I was a little spooked.”

  He was standing only inches from her and when she looked up into his eyes, she saw something deep, primal, and wholly masculine. Campbell had always been her protector, and no matter how much water had passed under the bridge, the look in his eyes told her he still was.

  “I want you to be safe,” he said. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’ve never fought a ghost but I’d give it my all. Not sure the Taser works on the dearly departed.”

  Maeve laughed. “Never know until you try.”

  “I’m going to head home. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  His hand was still on her shoulder and she placed hers on top of it. It was warm and solid. “Okay. Thanks again.”

  That old, familiar heat flashed in his eyes and the next thing Maeve knew his lips were on hers. He took his time with the kiss, exploring her lips with a touch as soft as feather. It
was slow and soft like they had all the time in the world. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. The heat inside her built slowly and she kissed him harder.

  He nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth and she shivered at the sensation. She ran her tongue along his bottom lips and along the top as slowly as she could. He groaned and grasped her waist, pulling her body flush against his. She loved the iron-hard feel of him. It made her feel small, delicate. Desired.

  He wound his fingers through the strands of her hair and moaned. “Maeve.” It was a plea, one her body was begging her to answer.

  She pulled away from him and looked up into his green eyes. “We’d better stop,” she whispered. “Or we’re going to be right back where we were the other day.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” His grin was sexy as hell, and Maeve had a hard time resisting it.

  “No, but we need to decide what we’re doing before we rush into anything.”

  “You think too much.”

  *****

  When Campbell left, Maeve closed the door and bolted it. She leaned against it and exhaled.

  Her lips still burned from the taste of him.

  She had to stop thinking about Campbell. Had to stop kissing him. Had to stop whatever it was cycling between them like electricity.

  While Maeve would stay as long as Granny needed her, at some point, maybe in the spring, she’d need to find a job and get back to being a lawyer. There was no way she could stay forever, and there was no way Campbell would ever leave.

  Mooning over her high-school boyfriend was a fool’s game she intended to stop playing.

  Maeve spent most of the evening reading through the notes she’d made at the museum. After getting a few more details from Granny, she’d been able to draw a timeline. On a page near the back of the notebook, she jotted a list of questions for Virgil.

  Maeve hoped Virgil would be at Bertie’s tomorrow morning. He’d promised her more of Delphine’s story once she’d visited the cemetery, and she intended to force him to make good on his promise.

  She didn’t sleep well. Her mind was filled with visions of Delphine and Jenks mixed with images of Campbell and her. As she drifted off to sleep, she saw the four of them together, standing on top of Jane’s Bald, watching the sun sink behind the mountains. All of them were tied together with gauzy strips of white fabric attached to their wrists.

  A little after three, something startled her awake. She looked around the dark room, impatient for her eyes to adjust, and saw nothing but the smell, the one from the other day, was back. She flipped on the lamp beside the bed and double-checked the room. Nothing. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. The more she learned about Delphine’s story, the closer she felt to her. She left the light on and tried to fall asleep again but it was nearly impossible.

  By the time the sun spilled light across the patchwork quilt covering her, Maeve was tired of tossing and turning. After a cup of coffee on the porch, she took a shower and dressed. Campbell pulled into the yard a little past eight.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Maeve said, sliding into the passenger seat. It took all the self-control she had not to lean across the arm rest and kiss him.

  He nodded. “I know this story means a lot to you.”

  “I wish I could explain it. I really do but I can’t. Ever since the day I saw her, she’s been on my mind constantly. I have to figure out what happened to her.”

  “Maybe she’s the reason you came back here.”

  “What do you mean?” She pushed her sunglasses onto the crown of her head and looked across the cab of the car. Campbell clenched his jaw.

  “You know the whole thing bothers me, right?”

  “You’ve made that pretty obvious.”

  “Ever wonder why?”

  “I just figured that you didn’t like ghosts.”

  “It’s more than that. A lot more than that. Lots of folks think I’m a descendent of Delphine and Jenks.”

  Maeve’s mouth flew open. Nothing could’ve shocked her more. “There’s no mention of them having a child. Not that I’ve found.”

  “Did you read the jail records?”

  She shook her head. “I only had time to read the newspaper articles.” She hoped to get back to the museum later today after she talked with Virgil and checked on Granny. “What’s in them?” She couldn’t read Campbell’s expression behind his dark sunglasses.

  “Delphine was taken into custody and convicted in less than two months. They waited more than seven months after that to hang her.”

  Maeve flipped to the timeline she’d drawn. He was right. That was a long time, especially in the nineteenth century. “She was pregnant when they arrested her?”

  Campbell nodded.

  “What happened to the baby?”

  “The records never mention it but my granddaddy always said she gave the baby to our family to raise. She would be my one of my great grandmothers.”

  The dream came back to her, clear as a movie. Now she understood why Campbell’s wrist had been tied to Maeve’s but why was she tied to Campbell? She decided not to tell him about the dream. Not yet. Not until she got the truth.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “I don’t like being connected to her. No one wants to be the great grandson of a witch.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bessie had the ear of Preacher Veneable soon after the sickness started. All it took was a story about how she’d seen me out in the woods, surrounded by candles, chanting the names of the folks who had the French Pox over and over until sweat was pouring off me and I was cackling like some half-crazed banshee. According to her, the reason I wasn’t sick was because I was a witch who called upon the devil to sicken others. She’d seen it. Witnessed it.

  A complete and total lie but one the preacher wanted to believe.

  It helped her case that I never had been one to go to church so there was no one to stop her.

  By the next Sunday, the word “witch” was floating in the air like ash from a bonfire.

  When Bessie got a sore on her mouth, I knew my fate was sealed. The next time Jenks came to the cabin, I told him I was scared, worried. I was afraid things would get out of hand and I’d be on the losing end.

  He held me in his arms and convinced me that it would blow over. With winter coming, few people would be able to get to church regularly and the rumors would die. I wanted to believe him.

  I didn’t go to town often but when I did, no one would meet my eye when they passed me on the street. I was used to being alone so that didn’t bother me as much as it would’ve bothered some people. I kept my head down, bought only the things I needed and retreated to my cabin.

  Jenks was the only thing I needed.

  I thought love would be enough to save both of us.

  *****

  Maeve parked the Explorer on the street and walked into Bertie’s. She’d called Virgil and arranged to meet with him. He sat at a back booth.

  “Morning, Virgil,” she said, sliding into the booth across from him.

  He grunted in response.

  “I have some questions.” She opened her notebook to the page in the back where she’d scribbled a list of things she couldn’t figure out.

  “Did you go to the grave?”

  She nodded. “I also went to the county museum.”

  “When I finish my breakfast, I’ll talk to you about it. Can’t tell a story on an empty stomach.”

  Hazel came by and took her order and filled her coffee cup. Virgil ate with the speed of a slug. By the time he popped the last bite of sausage in his mouth, she was ready to scream.

  “Ask away,” he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with a paper napkin.

  “Did the syphilis come back with the war veterans?”

  The old man shrugged. “I expect it did. It was highly contagious and spread through a lot of the regiments.”

  “Did she have a child with Je
nks?”

  Virgil took a sip of his coffee and looked out the window onto the street. “That’s always been part of the legend. No one knows for sure.”

  “Is Campbell Hyatt a descendant?”

  He nodded. “If they had a baby, if that part’s true, Campbell would be a great-great-great-great grandson.”

  A chill ran up Maeve’s spine. “But why would she kill the man she loved and the father of her unborn child?” It was the one, central question. The one that had to be answered before anything of the other pieces would fit into place. So far, Maeve saw no motive. If anything, Bessie was the one with motive to kill Delphine.

  “She wouldn’t,” Virgil said, mirroring Maeve’s thoughts. “The one thing I know for sure, after years of hearing version after version of the story, is that Delphine loved Jenks, probably too much for her own good.”

  I am innocent of murder.

  The short sentence reverberated through Maeve’s body, repeating itself over and over. “Then who killed him?”

  “That’s the important question to answer.” With that, Virgil rose to his feet and placed a ten dollar bill on the Formica table. “I expect you’ll know soon enough.”

  *****

  By the time Campbell got to the hospital, Maeve had Granny Holcolmbe dressed and ready to go back to the cabin.

  “Don’t you look pretty as a picture,” he said to Granny, giving only a curt nod to Maeve. He pretended not to notice her but he could be blindfolded and still know when she was in the room.

  The older woman batted her eyelashes at him and grinned. “I do my best.”

  Maeve rolled her eyes. “Y’all are intolerable.”

  “You’re the only one complaining,” Granny said. “They’re letting me go home. Can you drive us?”

  “I sure can. I thought maybe you’d decided to stay.”

  Granny swatted at him. “You, hush.”

  While Campbell pulled the car around to the front entrance, a nurse brought a wheelchair into the room and helped Granny get into it. Maeve covered her legs with a knitted blanket and they walked toward the lobby.