Witch, page 24
“I closed my eyes,” Penny admitted. “When he started counting, I just closed them and prayed.”
“It had blue eyes,” Ellen said. She wasn’t arguing; she was simply stating a fact. “Only blue eyes shine like that in the dark, like red beacons. I saw them as clearly as I see you.”
“No,” Penny repeated. “Is that the wrong answer? You still look mad, Uncle Jack.”
“That’s not why I’m mad,” said Jack, in a growl reminiscent of Ishtar’s.
“Oh?” Penny’s eyes moved from Jack to her mother. She grinned. “Haven’t you gotten around to it yet? I thought we were settling the future this morning.”
“If you wouldn’t keep interrupting me—”
“What are you talking about?” Ellen asked curiously.
“He wants to ask you to marry him,” Penny said, and then shifted hastily on her bottom till she was behind Tim and his cat. Her uncle had risen purposefully, his eyes fixed on her. “Well, I was just trying to help,” she said plaintively. “You’re so slow. Why don’t you get it over with?”
“Hmph.” Jack scratched his chin. “Maybe you’re right. I can’t stand the suspense. Ellen, would you?”
“Certainly not.” Ellen’s cheeks were flaming. “You’ll go to any length to save me from my own incompetence, won’t you? I told you I’m not afraid.”
“But I am.” Jack seemed to have forgotten about their audience. “I’m afraid of being without you. I didn’t miss the kids, Ellen; I missed you. I’ve never spent a more miserable six weeks. Now, wait, let me spell out all the inducements before you turn me down. You won’t have to give up your house—or your ghost. We’ll leave a saucer of milk out for it every night, the way they do in Ireland for the fairies. Another year of this rat race and I’m retiring. I want to sit and watch the roses grow. Maybe I’ll write that book I keep talking about. Can I come here? Please?”
“You’re just asking me because you feel sorry for me.” Ellen had forgotten the audience too.
“Words fail me,” said Jack.
He took one long stride, over cat, dish, and fascinated listeners, and put his arms around her.
After an interval he lifted his head.
“Am I asking you because I feel sorry for you?”
“No,” Ellen said.
Still holding her, Jack turned his head.
“Get out of here, you guys.”
Ellen didn’t hear them go. A good while later she was aware of something twining around her ankles. She started convulsively and Jack let her go.
“I guess there will always be a cat between us,” he said, frowning at the white mongrel. It was purring hoarsely. The food dish was empty.
“It wants more to eat,” Ellen said. “Did you really mean that, about keeping our ghost?”
“I was kidding about the milk.”
Ellen bent over and picked up Tim’s cat. It continued to purr, lifting its scrubby head as her experienced fingers found the sensitive spot under the chin. Its eyes were half closed with pleasure, but there was no mistaking their color. They were a pale yellow-green.
Ellen put the cat down.
“We’ll put out the milk,” she said.
About the Author
ELIZABETH PETERS (writing as BARBARA MICHAELS) was born and brought up in Illinois and earned her Ph.D. in Egyptology from the University of Chicago’s famed Oriental Institute. Peters was named Grand Master at the inaugural Anthony Awards in 1986, Grand Master by the Mystery Writers of America at the Edgar® Awards in 1998, and given the Lifetime Achievement Award at Malice Domestic in 2003. She lives in an historic farmhouse in western Maryland.
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Books by Barbara Michaels
Other Worlds*
The Dancing Floor*
Stitches in Time*
Houses of Stone
Vanish with the Rose Into the Darkness*
Smoke and Mirrors*
Search the Shadows*
Shattered Silk*
Be Buried in the Rain*
The Grey Beginning*
Here I Stay*
Black Rainbow*
Someone in the House*
The Wizard’s Daughter*
The Walker in Shadows*
Wait for What Will Come*
Wings of the Falcon*
Patriot’s Dream*
The Sea King’s Daughter*
House of Many Shadows*
Witch*
Greygallows*
The Crying Child*
The Dark on the Other Side*
Prince of Darkness*
Ammie, Come Home*
Sons of the Wolf*
The Master of Blacktower*
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WITCH. Copyright © 1973 by Barbara Michaels. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPUB Edition © MAY 2008 ISBN: 9780061864681
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Barbara Michaels, Witch
