A Southern Charms Cozy Potluck Box Set Page 24

  I forced my lips into a smile. “No, Aunt Nora. Just showing my support to those who deserve it.”

  She released me with a wry grin. “All your good wishes will be wasted once they lose.”

  After Uncle Tipper's death, my aunt had stayed away from me, and I counted her absence as a blessing. My mother's sister still held no fondness for me—an emotion we both shared. I needed to evacuate before I found a proverbial knife sticking out of my back. Turning on my heel with speed, I ran into a solid mass in front of me.

  “My deepest apologies, miss.” The impeccable British accent caught me off guard.

  “Sorry, Raif,” I spit out without looking. When my eyes met the curious gaze looking down on me, I startled. “Oh.” My brain scrambled to find other words but failed in their quest.

  “And who is this fetching young creature?” the stranger asked. “A fellow campaign manager?”

  Raif turned his attention to me and wrinkled his nose. “She is no one of note.” The snotty vampire sniffed, dismissing my presence. “She is an interloper who needs to find her place.” He pointed to the front of the gazebo, indicating for me to join the rest of the town, but I didn’t miss his underlying meaning.

  “That's a shame,” the stranger said. He grinned, his fangs poking over his lips. “I would enjoy a tête-à-tête with you. In a professional capacity, of course.”

  I studied the attractive countenance in front of me far longer than I should. Something nagged at the back of my mind, and I attempted to grab onto a faded memory.

  Hollis Hawthorne cleared his throat. “Time for you to go, Miss Goodwin.” The struggling thought disappeared like smoke, and I shook it off and nodded, too distracted to come up with a witty response.

  Making my way to my friends, I stood at the back of the crowd while my grandmother received whoops and hollers along with loud applause as she approached center stage.

  “Good evening, y'all,” she cried out. “Thank you for coming to tonight's event. This is a landmark occasion for Honeysuckle Hollow. And I know that it comes with great sacrifice on y'all's part to accept that we as a community are changing.” She launched into a small speech that I'd heard her rehearse at her house several times.

  Dash leaned over to whisper in my ear, his beard tickling my neck. “What's wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” I said, unwilling to share my confusion and distraction.

  “Sure,” he whispered back. “I’ll let you have your fib for now.”

  I shot him a sideways glance, quirking my eyebrow at him. How did he always know?

  Shifter, he mouthed, poking his chest with his forefinger.

  Whenever I questioned how he knew anything, he always answered the same. Whether or not the animal in him could sense my lie was irrelevant. He liked to remind me that he was more than a man. I never knew if he did it in teasing, flirting, or in warning.

  He elbowed me and pointed at the stage. My grandmother introduced Juniper, and the small fairy reluctantly hovered beside Horatio. Her wide eyes gave away her fear, and I wondered if she’d make it through tonight.

  Horatio stood up, his head bending down to whisper something in the fairy’s ear. I smiled, glad to see their connection. Their match had become fodder for town gossip not long after they’d met at Skeeter’s singles event. But neither cared, having found someone else to cling to.

  After an awkward pause, Juniper drifted to the middle of the stage. Loud squeaks and squeals erupted from a small group of floating beings behind us. Juniper’s employees from her business, Fairy Dust & Clean, screeched their support for their boss. The dour-faced fairy that floated next to them, Moss, barely cracked a smile, staying quiet and contemplative rather than joining her fellow workers in their excitement.

  The entire crowd held its breath as the small fairy attempted to speak. Someone shouted, “Speak up,” and the diminutive figure shivered, her blue-green dust scattering about her.

  “M-m-my name is J-J-J-Juniper. I own the F-F-F-Fairy Dust & C-C-C-clean Services, and I'm running for the n-n-n-new t-t-t-town c-c-c-council s-s-s-seat.” Her stuttering increased, and my discomfort for her grew. The fairy clasped her hands in front of her, and I feared she might explode in a ball of anxiety and blue-green dust.

  Blythe leaned in on my left side. “Why in the world is she putting herself through this?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I think Horatio encouraged her.” All I wanted to do was run up on stage and give the poor thing a hug.

  Nana stood up and approached the flailing being. My grandmother's presence filled me with relief. Putting a kind arm around the fairy’s waist, she spoke low to Juniper. After she finished, my timid winged friend nodded and cleared her throat.

  She stopped trembling and floated with more composure. “M-my name is Juniper, and I am running for the open council seat. I intend to represent everyone in town if I win.” A mild level of clapping followed her statement, and the fairy sighed and smiled, gaining a bit of confidence. “But I especially want to give v-voice to those who tend to be ignored or f-forgotten. Everyone must remember that we all choose to live here for different reasons, and we all have the right to an equal s-say.”

  She paused again, and her employees screamed as loud as they could, the pixies reaching a pitch that made Dash wince. Unfortunately, only a handful of us nearby could hear them. Juniper turned to glance at Horatio who nodded in support. She cleared her throat and finished with a statement she must have rehearsed. “Also, though I may be small, everyone should know that I am strong.” She bent her tiny arm and pointed at her nonexistent muscle.

  I giggled along with my friends at the fairy’s joke. The rest of the crowd chuckled as well, and Juniper left center stage in relief, zipping back to her place with the other candidates, clearly glad her moment in the spotlight was over.

  The stage creaked and groaned as the gigantic troll went next. He towered over all of his opponents and the rest of the audience with his massive presence. Pushing the disheveled locks of hair out of his face, he bellowed, thundering loud enough to be heard probably four towns away at least.

  “My fellow residents of Honeysuckle, I bid you good evening, and wish you hearty congratulations on this next step in the evolution of our community. As my dear friend Will used to say, ‘The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.’ We must heed his wise words and bond as one mighty collective to make our town strong.” Horatio launched into an eloquent speech peppered with language that several of the town's residents would have to look up.

  It amused me to no end that many of my friends shattered expectations. His intelligence and ability to reason would be an asset to the authority of the town. However, he had a long battle to fight for acceptance. No matter what pretty words flowed out of his mouth, not many people would ever trust a troll.

  Horatio continued. “I know that change comes at a cost, one that we are not always willing to pay. However, were I to be so fortunate as to win your hearts and be elected to the seat, I will do my best for every citizen, big or small.” He turned his head and smiled at Juniper, who promptly blushed a rosy color closer to Goss’s signature hue. “And as we are rational beings, I will also push to broaden our library and its resources. For knowledge remains our best gift. May we use it to make the best choices for our continued future.” The troll placed a hand over his heart in sincerity.

  The light applause that followed indicated he had lost the crowd. No matter how intelligent he might be, his speech did not win over many people. Still, I beamed at him with pride, happy that he and Juniper had stood up for what they believed in on stage. They were both far braver than me, and I’d lived here almost my entire life.

  Dash stiffened at my side. His nostrils flared. “What's that awful stench?”

  “What are you talking about?” I murmured under my breath. A few moments later, a sickeningly sweet floral scent filled my nose, and I grimaced.

  “Told you,” Dash admonished.


  I pinched his arm. “Don't let your head shift too big or it'll fill up the entire park.”

  “That smells like gardenias, right, Lily?” Lavender asked her cousin.

  “Gardenias that are on their last legs,” Lily agreed, covering her nose.

  Ben moaned. “I know of one person who wore that scent every day.”

  Lee took off his glasses and wiped his hand down his face. “I’m having nightmarish flashbacks to primary school.”

  A commotion at the front of the stage interrupted the evening’s proceedings. After much grumbling and shouting, a familiar figure limped its way onto the stage.

  “I object,” a raspy voice rattled into the air. “We must stop all of this nonsense.” The figure waved a thick cane at the audience. My grandmother, along with Aunt Nora and Hollis Hawthorne, rushed into action toward the crooked body interrupting the speeches.

  “Who is that?” Dash asked, covering his nose with his hand to block out the smell that had settled over all of us.

  “Old Mrs. K,” replied most of my gang at the same time.

  “Mrs. Kettlefields taught us in primary school. Loved to hear the sound of her own voice droning on and on,” added Ben.

  “Beat you with a ruler if that voice put you to sleep,” said Lee, rubbing the back of his hand in memory.

  “That's because you snored,” teased Alison Kate.

  The crowd in front of the gazebo stage rumbled in disbelief, and we watched the three council members attempt to remove our former teacher. With more strength than anyone would give her credit for, she pushed them off.

  “I will have my say, or I will curse you all,” she threatened.

  “She wouldn't do that, would she?” Blythe asked, gawking at the spectacle.

  “There's no telling how many bats she has in her attic now,” I said, tapping my head. “Remember, we all used to think she was a bit touched in the head back in the day. It's been many moons since then.”

  The old lady, with desperation in her eyes, pleaded with the town. “If we go through with this election, it shall spell our doom.”

  Chapter Three

  “For over two hundred years, our small town has been working just fine. Everybody knew everybody else, and we took care of our own. Now, we've got more people here than you can shake a broom at, and the more we add, the more problems we've been getting. Consider the cause of Tipper Walker’s death. Was it one of our own that caused his demise? No, it wasn't. It was an outsider, and we don't need no outsiders messin’ up our community.” Mrs. Kettlefields paused and shook her cane to punctuate her point, sweat dripping down her temples, her eyes widening with fevered passion. She clutched her chest, gasping for air, and glanced with suspicion at the people gathering around her on stage.

  “That doesn't sound like Mrs. K at all,” commented Ben. “Wasn't she the one who lectured us again and again on the founding of our town?”

  Lee chimed in. “Don't think I haven't forgotten that she made you dress up like a girl for the play she’d written about the event.” He flashed a mischievous smile at his friend. “You were so pretty.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Ben has a point. This sounds nothing like her. If ever there was someone with great pride in our town, it was Mrs. K.”

  “Sounds like she’s lost her marbles in Fairyland,” Blythe offered.

  “And you know what my Meemaw says,” Alison Kate added. “A crazy witch is a dangerous witch.”

  “And one that needs to be contained,” I agreed.

  No one understood that sentiment more than me. Due to my great-uncle’s faculties not being all there, even though some of his problems may have been induced by the potions that Ashton had given him over time, I'd almost perished because of his spellcasting misfire. After the fact, many people commented that Tipper should have had his powers restrained. The way that Aunt Nora and Hollis glared at Mrs. K suggested that either one might conjure up a large butterfly net to capture her at any second.

  Dash spoke in a low voice. “So, you would lock up an old woman like that?”

  “Not necessarily. But containing her powers might be important if she's lost her senses. Why? What would you do with someone like her in your pack?”

  “You don't want to know,” the shifter’s deep voice rumbled.

  “I think I can handle it.”

  “Remember that after I've told you.” The wolf shifter sighed but kept his voice low, leaning his body against mine as he answered my question. “When I was little, we had an old woman who the pack still cared for even though she’d lost her entire family over decades. It takes a long time for shifters to grow old, so there's no telling exactly what her age was. But she got worse and worse every year, shifting out of control and hunting too close to civilians. My mom did her best to try and keep the woman from harming others and herself, but eventually, my father didn't want to put up with her anymore.” Dash paused in his story.

  Although my gut told me I didn't want the answer, I still asked the question. “What happened to her?”

  “My mom stopped our supply runs to the woman…because the need to take care of her ceased to exist.” That was all Dash would give me, and I knew he was done sharing. The shifter life that he revealed to me piece by piece both enamored and scared me. Which was probably his ultimate goal to keep me from getting too close.

  A couple of people who worked at the retirement home joined my grandmother on stage, surrounding Mrs. K. The former teacher bent her crooked body forward, her eyes darting side to side like a cornered animal.

  Her incessant ranting never stopped. “And another thing. This newer generation ain't much better, despite what I taught them. You got the young Lee Chalmers’ son messing about with human technology, which has no business mixing with magic in the first place. And then there's Charlotte Goodwin, who's been a handful since she was little, catchin’ a death curse and almost dyin’. It's all too much. No more change. We can’t handle it.”

  The group of people closed ranks around her and inched forward with their arms out. A breathless hush fell over the crowd as we waited for the capture of Mrs. K. The old woman straightened up and touched her head in despair, a keening sound bursting from her lips.

  My grandmother stopped the others and approached from the side. “Eugenia, why don't you follow me and come get some sweet tea. I think you’re overtired and overheated.”

  The poor woman nodded and followed my grandmother, muttering in confusion and shaking her head.

  “Well, who knew an election could be so dramatic? And look at you, getting a personal shout-out.” Dash brushed his finger down my arm.

  “I don't think anyone expected it to go that way,” I said, keeping my eyes forward and trying to ignore the path of flames his touch left behind.

  Hollis approached the center of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your patience and your kind consideration. I think with a little more effort, we can finish introducing the candidates tonight and get to the desserts that you fine folk have provided. So how about we have a round of applause for those candidates who have already presented?”

  Moving aside, Hollis gave way to Flint and let the gnome take center stage. With everyone still shaken from Mrs. K's interruptions, it took a few moments for us to truly hear Flint's speech. But after a quick rundown of his duties in Honeysuckle as a gate guard at our borders, he garnered the attention of most of the citizens.

  “If elected, I will continue to strive to keep Honeysuckle the safe haven it has always been for any magical beings that choose to live here. It has done me and mine no end of goodness, and with the new addition to our family, I will strive to make our town the best place for my offspring to grow up in. Thank you.”

  An entire unicorn could have leaped into my gaping mouth. “Did he just tell us what I think he told us?”

  Alison Kate hugged Lee in glee, and Blythe smiled with pure joy. “Pretty sure he just announced that our friend Goss is with child.”

  “No won
der she was a nervous wreck backstage,” I commented. But I had completely missed the clues.

  “I guess you can't solve every mystery,” joked Dash, poking my rib with his elbow.

  The gnome blushed with the cheers of congratulations and waved to the side at his wife who sprinkled pink fairy dust on everyone close to her, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. I'd have to give her a big squeeze after the last speech.

  “Is it over?” asked Dash.

  “I wish,” I muttered, pointing to Raif approaching the center with grave solemnity.

  The vampire spoke in his clipped British accent and delivered a speech that had more polish and finesse than the others’ combined. Aunt Nora and Hollis nodded their heads in absolute agreement to every point that Raif stated, especially when he talked about bringing in more people from the outside world and expanding the options of our lives.

  On a scale from one to ten, one being Mrs. K’s shared rant about change and ten being blowing up the entire town and starting from scratch, Raif landed at a solid seven. His ideas were progressive and controversial, pushing the expectations of most of the town’s citizens. But his presentation, his presence, and the clear support he garnered from the other council members would make him a hard opponent to beat. His speech lasted longer than the others, and I grew bored. Alison Kate and Lee excused themselves as they scooted around me.

  “I’ve got to go help Sprinkle and Twinkle set up some of the desserts,” she whispered in a low voice.

  “You need help? Oh, sure.” I volunteered myself to escape, and found the rest of my group, including Dash, heading over to the nearby picnic tables lined with all kinds of sweets and goodies. Raif’s voice echoed around us, but we ignored him, helping the two retired tooth fairies arrange the desserts by color rather than type just for fun.

  After a generous round of applause for the vampire candidate and some final words from my grandmother, a mass of people rushed toward the tables to stuff their faces. Nana understood that it wasn't their consciences or the rational need to weigh and balance who might be the best candidate to vote for that filled the park. The promise to fill their stomachs with good food would always act as the best motivator.