Rowan Hill
KELLY
The bus jolted over a pothole, and my head smacked against the window, jolting me awake. I winced at the dull throb of pain.
Even without the bus window’s assault, my hangover was doing a fine job of making me miserable.
I took a sip from the water bottle nestled between my legs, watching the countryside blur past. We had to be nearing my stop at Hunter Valley, probably another twenty minutes or so.
I fished my phone out of my purse and found two pictures Ben had texted me while I’d been asleep.
The first was of a blonde perched on a barstool, drink held high in a toast to something undoubtedly trivial.
Her hair obscured her face, but her plain white shirt had ridden up, revealing a soft, curvy stomach above black skinny jeans. I blinked at the photo.
Holy shit, that’s me.
The second photo was also of me, locked in a kiss with a good-looking brunet in jeans and a leather jacket. Chuck was off to the side, looking amused.
I didn’t remember any of this. I quickly shot back a text.
No wonder my head and body were protesting today.
Day drinking at a grungy dive bar had never been my strong suit, but I’d given it my best shot yesterday when the semester officially ended and Bec had turned me into a blonde.
After the breakup, it seemed like I needed more alcohol than usual to feel anything, and I’d consumed an obscene amount to get there.
Ben’s reply came almost instantly.
I rolled my eyes and tossed the phone back into my purse. Blonde Kelly did seem to attract more attention, that was for sure.
But she was also single Kelly who went on drinking binges with friends, so who really knew why she was suddenly so popular?
There was a certain freedom that came with the new look and persona. It was nice to not be the stereotypical heartbroken woman for a few hours.
The driver announced Hunter as the next stop, and the town rolled into view. It didn’t just look cold outside, it looked downright freezing.
There’d been a light snowfall last night, enough to leave an inch on the ground. But what really made me wince was the wind.
Watching the trees being whipped around by the gusts, it looked miserable outside the safety of the bus.
I wrapped my rain trench tighter around me, hoping the fleece underneath would be enough.
The bus pulled to a stop. I stood, grabbed my satchel, and signaled to the driver that I had a bag in the hold. He nodded and hopped out ahead of me.
Stepping onto the pavement, the biting wind knocked the breath out of me. It was relentless.
I took my bag from the driver and turned towards the half-empty parking lot of the adjacent Denny’s.
A young man in a corduroy sherpa jacket, jeans, and cowboy boots was heading towards the now departing bus. He didn’t look like the commune type, so I made my way towards the restaurant to wait inside.
He suddenly stepped in front of me, hands raised. He gave me a once-over and scanned the bus stop again.
“Kelly?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m your ride.”
I paused, studying his face to make sure I didn’t recognize him. Just then, a gust of wind blew through, cutting through my fleece, and all I could do was nod at him.
He gestured towards an old hardtop Jeep Wrangler nearby and grabbed my small suitcase, motioning for me to get in.
I gratefully climbed into the passenger seat. Curling into a ball, I blew warm breath onto my hands, shaking from the cold, and flexed them into fists to keep the feeling.
A moment later, the man climbed in and started the engine. It coughed to life. Warm air blasted onto the front seats. I held my hands up to the vent, and we took a moment to size each other up.
He looked pointedly at my hair. “She said you were a redhead. Though she did say you were going through something, and I should expect anything from ‘harpy to siren.’”
I grinned. Classic Franny.
“Umm, well, up until thirty-six hours ago, I was red. Call it…reckless life decisions.”
He gave me a puzzled look that clearly asked for an explanation, and I held up a lock of my new blonde hair and said, “Breakup hair.”
A moment later, understanding dawned on him, and he chuckled, flashing a smile full of perfect teeth.
I took another look at him. Strong jaw, soft hazel eyes, dark skin, clean-shaven, and easily over six feet tall.
A gray wool beanie seemed to be hiding his wavy black hair that reached his ears. Whoever he was, he was undeniably handsome in a boy-next-door kind of way, and definitely younger than me.
He pulled the Jeep out of the parking lot and we started the drive to the commune.
“You can’t be the Jameson kid all grown up, are you? There’s no way you’re only sixteen?”
He smiled again, keeping his eyes on the road. “No, I’m Jess, twenty-four and a Virgo, and not from your commune. I’m one of the visitors from the Rez.
“Everyone else was busy preparing for the ceremony tonight and the party tomorrow. Francis commandeered me when she saw me sitting around.”
My eyes widened slightly. “You’re a were?”
He grinned and shot me a sidelong glance. “Born and raised.”
Franny was right; they were very easy on the eyes. Silence filled the cab as I tried to think of what to say.
Our lands had shared a border, separated by the river, for the last few hundred years.
But since I’d gone to middle and high school in the town twenty minutes away, and then had gone straight to college, I hadn’t ever actually met our neighbors on the few occasions they’d visited.
What did one say to a guy who could turn into a dog? My first thought was why wasn’t he one now? Wasn’t it the day before the full moon?
For the first time, I wished I had paid more attention to Aunt Vonda’s stories instead of tuning them out for something more interesting or more relevant to my self-absorbed teenage self.
Clearly wanting to break the silence, Jess said, “So, your mom is something else, huh?”
I gave him a puzzled look.
“Francis…?” Then it hit me. “Oh, right! Yeah, she’s not my mom, but my aunt and adopted parent. And yes, ‘something else’ is definitely an accurate description.”
Francis was a force to be reckoned with when she got going, a trait she inherited from her mother, and her mother before her.
He still looked confused. “You’re not a Wardwell?” he asked, referring to my mother’s maiden name, a lineage of witches that traced back to the Salem trials.
The name was well known among witch enthusiasts, but it was also pretty well known to the general public.
“Yes, well, no… My mother was a Wardwell and Francis’s sister, but I have my father’s name, Jones.”
“So, your parents are…”
“Dead, for about fourteen years now.”
He winced and muttered, “Sorry.”
As we drove out of town, the snow piled up on the side of the main road, and the trees grew denser.
I took in the familiar sight and drew in a deep breath, as if I could smell the firs on the wailing wind through the car window.
After a few minutes, Jesse broke the silence. “You didn’t want to take your mom’s name? I mean, Wardwell is a pretty well-known name, right? For witches, anyway.”
I tore my gaze from the trees to look at him, and his eyes were still on the road.
He wasn’t wrong. In the Wiccan and witch circles, Wardwell was a name associated with the trials, and over the last few hundred years, it had been known for its strong women leaders.
One thing was undeniable about my family—they were badasses. Up until me, that is.
“My mom and I… Well, it’s complicated. I didn’t want to do that to my father’s memory.”
He glanced at me and grunted in response, “Family can be complicated.” He looked back to the road and suddenly yelled, “SHIT!” swerving the car to avoid the deer that had jumped into the road.
I grabbed the Jesus handle as Jess hit the brakes. The car lurched to the side and came to a stop in the roadside ditch.
I let out an “Oof” as my seat belt squeezed my chest, and my hangover made an angry comeback inside my head.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, making sure we were still alive, Jess and I looked out his side window.
The doe he’d swerved for calmly walked past us, graceful, in perfect health, not a care in the world.
She continued her stroll down the road a few more yards until she turned off it and went into the tree line.
We looked at each other with wide-open mouths, then we both chuckled until we were heartily laughing.
“Oh God, I forgot how much I hate deer,” I said in between laughs.
“I mean, I love them, but oh God, what bitches, you know?” I wiped a tear from my eye as our laughter died.
Jess sighed and hopped out of the cab and rounded the front of the Jeep, wind tousling the hair around his ears.
He came back in after a moment of inspecting the front and back.
“We should be all right,” he said while turning the key.
The engine wheezed as it had before, but this time, it didn’t turn over.
“If this wasn’t a piece of shit car, that is.”
He placed his forehead on the steering wheel and tried the key one more time, without success. Raising his head to look at me, he asked, “Can you fix this?”
I raised an eyebrow at his request.
“Oh heavens, no. Don’t know the first thing about engines, sorry.”
He stared at me curiously.
“No, I mean can you fixxxxx this?” And he waved his fingers toward the engine in the manner of a magician doing a trick.
After a second, I got it and laughed hard.
“You think that’s what witches do? Fix cars?” I continued laughing, and after a moment, Jess looked sheepish at the suggestion.
I replied more seriously, “Ah, no, sorry. I guess you haven’t heard the commune gossip yet, but I’m like the family joke and the only non-magic member of this generation.
“But in any case, that’s not really a thing I think any witch can do, especially me. We need mechanics, just like everyone else, I’m afraid.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat, and grumbling, he pulled a phone from his pocket.
I checked around the car, and I could see Folsom Creek Bend up ahead, which meant we were still ten minutes away from the commune.
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples. Along with the headache, my body was beginning to feel like it was getting sick. Chills and aches felt on their way.
Tequila never again, I vowed.
I heard Jess speak with someone on the phone, then he hung up and said his brother was on his way.
I peeked an eye open. “We changing cars?”
“Nope. Will knows cars. Not mechanic worthy, but he’s good with most things. Most likely, he can get it started.”
I grunted and leaned back on the headrest.
“So, you’re not a Wardwell, you don’t live on the commune, and you’re not ‘all powerful,’ so what do you do?”
Without opening my eyes in hopes of keeping my headache at bay, I replied, “I’m a scientist.”
“A scientist?” Jess retorted, sounding skeptical.
I couldn’t help but smile. Probably the image of a blonde, shapely, hungover female who swore like a sailor wasn’t typically what people thought of. “Not what you had in mind?”
“No, I guess not. You’re like a real one?”
“Well, I’ll be a doctor of earth sciences in about six months, when I finish my research.”
“Research on what?”
I looked over at him, my head still pounding.
His eyes were intent on me, his body turned to face me. He was only a few years younger but somehow seemed so boyish with his soft eyes and ear-length hair.
I sipped my water and turned, mirroring his posture. “CliffsNotes? It’s about the regeneration of soil composites after they’ve been polluted.”
His eyebrows knitted together, a clear sign of surprise. “That sounds…tough.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his understated response. “You could say that, but I’m almost done with it. Plus, if I can actually apply it, it’ll be a big help for the farming at the commune.”
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my temple. My hangover was back with a vengeance, and Jess looked like he was about to ask another question.
“Look, Jess. I’m dealing with a monster of a hangover. If you don’t mind, I’m just gonna close my eyes for a bit, okay?”
His forehead relaxed, and he flashed me a wide grin. “Sure, man. Sorry, I should’ve guessed from the smell that you had a wild night.”
I pretended to be shocked. “I do not smell! I showered for at least ten minutes this morning.”
He pointed to his nose. “Nose knows best. I smelled the tequila first, and maybe a hint of men’s cologne?”
I turned pale. “Damn. Okay, longer showers this weekend,” I mumbled, tuning him out.
I shut my eyes and rested my head against the window, doing my best to block out the noise in the car while my head felt like it was about to explode.