Part 9 (1/2)
”I don't know. I would think it would be like sleeping with a huge stuffed animal.” Stasi looked out the window and frowned. ”There wasn't any sign of snow when we were out there a few hours ago.”
Blair joined her at the window and peered out. ”Wow, there are several inches out there now.” When the collie barked, she headed for the back door and opened it for him. ”Typical guy. First they charm you into bed, then they eat and run without one word about calling you.”
Stasi continued staring at the trees collecting falling snowflakes on their branches. ”We need to check the lake again.”
”What's wrong?”
She shook her head. ”I don't know, but something feels very troubling out there.” She ran to the coat rack and grabbed her jacket along with Blair's and threw it to her.
”But you said Trev cast a spell of protection,” Blair said.
”He did, but something still feels off. We really need to go back out there and we need to go now.”
”Boots this time,” Blair reminded her. ”The path will be slippery with the snow.”
Her warning proved true as they slipped and slid along the path.
”The air smells odd,” Stasi commented, as they grew closer to the end of the stand of trees.
Blair wrinkled her nose. ”Yeah, it smells almost like dead fish.”
They stopped short at the sight before them.
”Yowza.” Blair whistled softly.
”This is really not good.” Stasi felt her stomach sink all the way down to her toes.
They stared at a barrier that was no longer invisible to the naked eye. Now it stood crisscrossed with lines of dark green and gray, while the blue ring Trev had conjured was cracked, broken in places, and covered with splashes of black as if a strong fire had burned it. The normally placid surface of the lake was showing whitecaps, even though there was very little wind. Stasi and Blair kept their distance as they walked around the lake and found the blue ring in the same condition all the way around.
”That was the most powerful spell I'd ever seen and it was destroyed as if a first year student cast it,” Stasi whispered, as they walked back to the house. The minute they stepped into the kitchen they grabbed more coffee to warm up. ”Something's very wrong and I think we need help.”
”Agreed.”
Stasi glanced at the coffee-pot-shaped clock and noticed the time. Her first thought was not to open the store, but she knew she had to keep on as if nothing was wrong. ”I'll call Jazz today. I'll also try Maggie. Her gift is protection spells.”
Blair nodded. ”I'll do some research on the retrograde and lunar eclipse and see if it does have anything to do with this.”
”It's October first, town decoration day, remember?”
Blair groaned, then brightened up. ”That's right. Jake said he'd help us set up the heavy stuff.”
”Yes, Blair, think of the important things,” Stasi said dryly before heading to her bedroom to get ready.
When the women went downstairs and around to the front of the building they found a lot of activity going on. While the town's main street wasn't long, it featured shops geared for tourist trade and always decorated for holiday occasions. Men stood on ladders arranging orange twinkle lights over store windows and doors, while men and women wearing western clothing busied themselves decorating windows and setting out carved pumpkins, scarecrows, and hay bales. The few empty stores were draped in black and decreed to be the sites of a famous gunfight or a gruesome death. Wilson Carruthers, now in a battered hat, wore wool pants and a flannel s.h.i.+rt sporting a blood-spattered front where he'd been ”shot.” With his matted beard and dirty face, he looked menacing and perfect for a haunted town.
Stasi had chosen a simple soft pink and blue plaid skirt and pink cotton blouse under a matching plaid fichu with a delicate cameo pin attached to her collar. Her felt spoon bonnet matched the blue in the plaid. With the snow on the ground, she opted for thermal tights to keep her legs warm and wore ballet flats. She had pulled her hair up in a simple knot with a black lace snood covering the bun. She had kept her makeup to a minimum, using only a hint of blush and a lightly tinted lip balm.
”I always liked that outfit on you,” Blair said, going for the dramatic with a midnight blue velvet riding habit and flat brimmed hat with a matching veil. A few stray curls teased her cheeks. The full skirt was looped up over her wrist, she held a riding crop in her left hand, and wore black riding boots. She looked down at Stasi's full skirt. ”But you took the hoops out.”
”I did it as a matter of self-defense. I hated hoops even back then. It seemed every time I sat down they'd fly up and smack me in the chin. I added a little 'extra,' ” she held up her fingers to form quotes, ”to make it look like I'm wearing hoops.”
Blair rolled her eyes. ”Yeah, we don't want Agnes's Fas.h.i.+on Police coming after you. Although, I bet she won't be wearing a steel-boned corset or hoops.”
”I don't know how we functioned back then.”
”I don't know how I managed to ride sidesaddle for so many years and not fall off.” Blair grinned. ”At least we're not in the era where we'd be wearing a bustle. They were almost as bad as wearing hoops.”
”Ladies.” Jake sauntered up dressed in his usual jeans and flannel s.h.i.+rt topped by a denim sheepskin lined jacket. A worn cream-colored Stetson and battered cowboy boots finished his look.
”Morning, cowboy,” Blair purred, batting her lashes. ”All you need is a horse.”
He doffed his hat. ”Thank ya kindly, ma'am. Looks like you could use one too.”
”Shows what you know. Riding sidesaddle isn't as easy as it looks.”
”You've ridden sidesaddle?”
”Just once on a dare,” she said, in hopes of covering up her gaffe. ”Last time I visited one of those horse farms in England.”
”I wouldn't have thought you'd be the type to ride.”
Blair's smile grew larger. ”Depends on what I'm riding.”
”Could we keep this conversation G-rated, please?” Stasi begged, not sure whether to laugh at her friend's less-than-subtle flirtation or punch Blair in the arm.
”Maybe I better get to moving the heavier decorations out of your storerooms,” Jake suggested.
”Good idea,” Stasi agreed. She turned when two women wearing what had been called camp dresses from the Civil War era walked in their direction, carrying bags from Fresh Baked Goods. ”Ladies.” She inclined her head.
”Martha, Jeanine.” Stasi's smile dimmed as the women abruptly crossed the street and didn't bother to acknowledge them. She turned to Blair. ”What's going on?”
She frowned. ”I don't know, but it doesn't feel right.”
”Miss Romanov, do you want me to help you put your lights up?” a boy asked, also dressed as if he'd lived during the town's beginnings.
”Thank you, Tyler, we appreciate your offer.” She smiled back.
”Tyler Madison, you get back over here!”
He snapped to attention. ”Mom? I was just helping-”
His mother ran over, grabbed his hand, and glared at Stasi as she pulled her son away.
”You stay away from my son,” she hissed, dragging the protesting boy off.
Stasi was stunned. Blair swore under her breath.
”Ladies.” Trev walked up, looking twenty-first century in jeans and a rust colored sweater topped with a dark brown leather jacket. ”Don't you two look as if you'd stepped out of a history book.”
”You've been to the lake again,” Stasi said, noting his grim features.