Spells for Forgetting(56)

We’d been there for each other growing up, and that didn’t change when Hannah and Eloise got married. We’d had to keep our promise then, too. We’d bled for each other, sacrificed for each other, and hell, we’d done some dark things. But it had been a long time since I’d had to face those demons.

When I turned off the road, Leoda Morgan was on the porch, sitting in her rocking chair.

The old house’s windows were open to the autumn breeze, a practice that most residents of the island would partake in today. It was a last chance to air out the house before the cold set in, and it wasn’t just the stagnant air we were ridding ourselves of. Albertine Blackwood always said it was also a way of shaking the tourists out of our bones. Cleansing the island of whatever shadows they’d brought with them across the Sound.

“Nixie!” Leoda greeted me with a rare, relaxed smile. That should have been my first clue.

I lifted a hand in greeting and took the winding path up through the tall grass. I’d have to tread carefully if I was going to keep the peace. Leoda’s ire wasn’t known to fade quickly, and her seat on the town council was a weighty one. I’d learned the importance of making sure we were on the same side.

“I’ve got a fresh pot, if you’d like it,” she said.

I untied my scarf. “I would, thank you.”

Leoda rose from the chair as I sat and she disappeared into the house, fetching a second teacup. When she returned, she set it down on the small table beside me and filled it. Her feet were bare despite the chill.

“As happy to see them go as I am, aren’t you?” She arched one eyebrow.

That was one thing Leoda and I saw eye to eye on. We’d never had any qualms there. The tourists descended upon the island like locusts, picking it clean, but there was no arguing with the fact that we needed them. Without those full ferries, the island would die. It almost had, once.

“I’ve lived with them this many years. I suppose I can stand a few more.”

Leoda laughed, “Come talk to me when you’re my age.”

I studied her. Lily’s grandmother had always been something like a mother hen to everyone on the island. It wasn’t until I was older that I understood she was more raptor than prey.

“We’ll see if I make it that long,” I said, without thinking.

Leoda paused at that, surveying me with a curious look.

I hadn’t thought about the words before I spoke them. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be grim.”

The truth was the news about Eloise had brought my own end into sharp focus. The time of year didn’t help, either. Samhain was right around the corner, and I could smell the decay of fallen leaves and fermenting fruit in the air. It was the season of death.

The two sisters I’d made blood oaths with on the stormy beach one summer night were both gone. I could almost hear their voices whispering to me from the other side.

I took the paper from beneath my arm, setting it on the table between us.

Leoda stared at it, but she said nothing.

“I hope I don’t have to ask.”

She pursed her lips. “I hope you don’t, either.”

I sighed, swirling the tea in my cup. Leoda was the person you went to if you wanted to get something done on Saoirse. But she was a train that, once moving, was almost impossible to stop. “Leave him alone, Leoda. He’ll be gone in a few days.”

“That’s what Jake said when he arrived, and now he’s been here more than a week, Nixie. Sophie says he’s been to the records office, and I’m not the only one who thinks his departure is overdue.”

So, she hadn’t acted alone. She never did. But if August was sniffing around Henry Salt’s will, there’d be no reasoning with her.

I finally looked at her, studying the lines around her eyes. To her, we were all still kids. Me, Noah, Jake, Hannah, Eloise. But somewhere between blinks, we’d grown old. We’d grown into a lot of things.

“Is this what we are now?” I said, more heavily. I was really asking. It was difficult to remember what kind of people we’d been before.

Leoda raised the cup to her lips again. “Let’s not pretend that your hands are any cleaner than the rest of ours. When you came to me for what needed doing, I did it without question.”

I stared at her, my blood running ice cold. We’d sworn we’d never speak of that night. But there was a warning in her voice. A threat, even. “I know.”

When I went to her all those years ago, I hadn’t known what would follow. I couldn’t say that I regretted any of it, either. But I wasn’t sure if Leoda knew that I could see it was all part of the same intricate web, and I wondered if any of it would have happened if I hadn’t knocked on her door that night.

“I’m the last Morgan on this island, and that’s a responsibility I take seriously. I know you have a soft spot for that boy because of Eloise, but you need to remember it’s Salt blood in his veins.”

That’s what this really came down to for her. The orchard. It was always about the orchard. After Lily died and her son and daughter-in-law left Saoirse, people wondered if Leoda and Hans would follow. But she was as much a part of this island as the cliffs or the woods or the coves.

“We’ve all done things for the good of this town, you included.” She took her time, finishing the last of her tea. “He never should have come back here, Nixie. So, let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again.”