Casting Spells by Barbara Bretton

Hampshire’s state motto. Vermont’s is ’Freedom and Unity.’ ”
    “Same difference.”
    “You must be from Massachusetts,” she said. It didn’t sound like a compliment.
    “Bradford, between New Bedford and Salem.”
    “Those are cities compared to us.”
    “I’ve seen a hundred towns just like this,” I told her. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to rock your boat. Hell, once this space is set up, you won’t even know I’m here.”
     
    CHLOE
     
    Two hours later I was back in my shop unloading a huge box of Koigu yarn from Canada while Janice and Lynette assembled craft kits for my annual Last Minute Holiday Gifts workshop later that afternoon. We had fallen into the habit of spending our lunch breaks knitting, gossiping, and occasionally eating.
    Today, however, I bribed them with chocolate then put them to work while I told them about the unexpected arrival of Sugar Maple’s newest resident.
    “Tell me you’re kidding,” Janice said as she counted out six buttons then slid them into a plastic envelope.
    “I’m not kidding,” I said, fondling the gorgeous hand-painted yarn. “I almost blew our cover in the first few seconds.”
    “That’s no surprise,” Lynette said, up to her elbows in pattern sheets. “All of your bodily humors are in disharmony. I mean, look at you. You look terrible!”
    “You actually told him to shift back?” Janice let out a muted howl of anguish that sent the pile of circular needles spinning crazily across the tabletop. “What were you thinking ?”
    “I wasn’t thinking, Jan. I must have fallen asleep on the couch, and when I opened my eyes and saw the same face I’d just been dreaming about, I figured Lynette had dipped into my dreams and was pulling one of those shapeshifting practical jokes that makes me crazy.” I still hadn’t forgiven her for the time she pretended she was Johnny Depp (in full Captain Jack drag) in search of a skein of Noro Kureyon #40.
    “You’ve been working too hard, honey.” Lynette leaned across the worktable and patted my hand. “You were hallucinating. It happens to the best of us.”
    In Sugar Maple it was hard to tell hallucination from reality but I let it pass. I was in enough trouble already without adding smart ass to my list of transgressions.
    “You’re sure he didn’t pick up on it?” Janice prodded.
    “I dodged a major bullet. He thought I was talking in my sleep.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “He walked down to Griggs Hardware.” I took a deep, steadying breath. “There’s more.”
    Lynette shrank down into a childlike version of herself then swiftly reassembled as a grown woman.
    I plunged ahead. “I told him he could use my office until we get the pet shop ready.”
    “Don’t make such a big deal out of it,” Janice said. “In a couple of hours our magick will be back to full capacity and we already have the extra work crews in this dimension. We can have his office set to rights by tomorrow morning.”
    There was a lot to be said for taking the magick way out. Last night was the perfect example. The Harris boys heard about what happened in my kitchen through the Spirit Trail grapevine, and they added their one hundred fifty years of carpentry experience to the mix. A trio of household sprites who wintered at the Inn with the Harris and Souderbush families and the other travelers on the Spirit Trail teamed up with the band of elves who lived on the other side of the park, and together they restored my house by the time the sun rose.
    But clearly this was one time when I would have to get by without a little help from my friends.
    “He saw the place. He’ll probably need to have his sinus cavities fumigated. He’ll be suspicious if it smells like rose-buds tomorrow.” I refrained from telling them about the claw marks on the walls, the parrot damage to the windowsills, or the other less appetizing mementoes left behind.
    “Wait a second,” Janice said as the light dawned. “Are you saying we