porch and bounds into the front yard, jogging down the path through the herb garden.
Miss Delia leans toward me, her good eye glistening. “Help me to the kitchen. There’s something we need to do before he gets back. And leave the letter and bottle out here. I don’t want you dragging their bad mojo into my house.”
I set the bottle on the wide plank floor, roll up the letter, and shove it back in the neck. Then I gently grasp her forearm to lift her out of the chair. “Okay, but Cooper’s a good guy. You can trust him.” I hand her the cane and support her other arm as we head into the house.
Leaning hard against the cane, she steps inside and hobbles along, shuffling her orthopedic shoes across the nubby green carpet. Despite how refreshed she appeared sitting in the chair, she’s definitely not as strong as she was the other day. I clutch her elbow as gently as possible and guide her across the living room.
She shakes her head. “Maybe now, while he still has his childhood. But soon he’ll come into his manhood.”
That’s the same phrase Maggie used when she met Cooper for the first time. Even though Miss Delia said it, I’m still confused. “What does that mean, come into his manhood?”
“Why, becoming a man, of course.” She looks surprised I don’t get it.
“But he won’t be eighteen for two whole years.”
She chuckles. “Child, being a man doesn’t have anything do to with when the law says it’s so. Take a look at that boy of yours. He looks nearly like a man, don’t he? You know, in years past,when a young man turned sixteen, he could marry and start a family of his own. You watch—soon after that birthday of his, he’ll start acting as corrupt as his father.”
Her words sting like a slap across the face. His father is revolting—ogling young women and constantly recycling wives, eating like a hog, and tearing down every forest he can find to build crap nobody needs. Not to mention that disgusting rotten bologna smell of his. Cooper couldn’t be more different from his dad. “You’re wrong, Miss Delia. I’ve known him almost all my life. Cooper’s the kindest, sweetest guy I’ve ever met. He’s nothing like his father and never will be.” My cheeks flush, giving away a lot more than my defense of him, but I don’t care.
She stops, lifts her arm out of my hold, and pats me on the back of the hand. “Child, every Beaumont starts and ends the same way. It’s an unbroken cycle that will never change.”
I shake my head. “No. Not Cooper. He’s different.”
She chuckles and grips my forearm again. “Okay, Emma. Enjoy him while you can. Just don’t plan on spending your life with him.” She wags a gnarled finger at me. “And don’t say I didn’t warn you.” My scalp tingles, and I reach up to scratch at the strange sensation.
We make our way to the kitchen, and I stop short when I see the island counter. It’s covered with glass vials, beads, an ancient-looking book, and a box of white candles. She’s been busy. I help her to a stool and plop down on the one next to her. “Where do we start?”
“First I need to initiate you as my apprentice. Normally I’d have you take a bath first, but we don’t have much time before he gets back.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m clean. I showered this morning.” I resist the urge to lift my arm and sniff my pits. I used deodorant this morning, but it’s summer in South Carolina, after all, not exactly a cool, sweat-free place.
She smiles. “I’m talking about a different kind of clean. Before you work a strong spell in hoodoo, you should always cleanse your body with minerals and herbs to purify your soul, protect it from evil spirits, and fortify you against the effects of working magic.”
Even though it makes sense, those last two parts surprise me. I’ve been so wrapped up in saving Jack, I hadn’t considered that I might need protecting. And what does she mean about the side effects of casting magic? This
Miss Delia leans toward me, her good eye glistening. “Help me to the kitchen. There’s something we need to do before he gets back. And leave the letter and bottle out here. I don’t want you dragging their bad mojo into my house.”
I set the bottle on the wide plank floor, roll up the letter, and shove it back in the neck. Then I gently grasp her forearm to lift her out of the chair. “Okay, but Cooper’s a good guy. You can trust him.” I hand her the cane and support her other arm as we head into the house.
Leaning hard against the cane, she steps inside and hobbles along, shuffling her orthopedic shoes across the nubby green carpet. Despite how refreshed she appeared sitting in the chair, she’s definitely not as strong as she was the other day. I clutch her elbow as gently as possible and guide her across the living room.
She shakes her head. “Maybe now, while he still has his childhood. But soon he’ll come into his manhood.”
That’s the same phrase Maggie used when she met Cooper for the first time. Even though Miss Delia said it, I’m still confused. “What does that mean, come into his manhood?”
“Why, becoming a man, of course.” She looks surprised I don’t get it.
“But he won’t be eighteen for two whole years.”
She chuckles. “Child, being a man doesn’t have anything do to with when the law says it’s so. Take a look at that boy of yours. He looks nearly like a man, don’t he? You know, in years past,when a young man turned sixteen, he could marry and start a family of his own. You watch—soon after that birthday of his, he’ll start acting as corrupt as his father.”
Her words sting like a slap across the face. His father is revolting—ogling young women and constantly recycling wives, eating like a hog, and tearing down every forest he can find to build crap nobody needs. Not to mention that disgusting rotten bologna smell of his. Cooper couldn’t be more different from his dad. “You’re wrong, Miss Delia. I’ve known him almost all my life. Cooper’s the kindest, sweetest guy I’ve ever met. He’s nothing like his father and never will be.” My cheeks flush, giving away a lot more than my defense of him, but I don’t care.
She stops, lifts her arm out of my hold, and pats me on the back of the hand. “Child, every Beaumont starts and ends the same way. It’s an unbroken cycle that will never change.”
I shake my head. “No. Not Cooper. He’s different.”
She chuckles and grips my forearm again. “Okay, Emma. Enjoy him while you can. Just don’t plan on spending your life with him.” She wags a gnarled finger at me. “And don’t say I didn’t warn you.” My scalp tingles, and I reach up to scratch at the strange sensation.
We make our way to the kitchen, and I stop short when I see the island counter. It’s covered with glass vials, beads, an ancient-looking book, and a box of white candles. She’s been busy. I help her to a stool and plop down on the one next to her. “Where do we start?”
“First I need to initiate you as my apprentice. Normally I’d have you take a bath first, but we don’t have much time before he gets back.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m clean. I showered this morning.” I resist the urge to lift my arm and sniff my pits. I used deodorant this morning, but it’s summer in South Carolina, after all, not exactly a cool, sweat-free place.
She smiles. “I’m talking about a different kind of clean. Before you work a strong spell in hoodoo, you should always cleanse your body with minerals and herbs to purify your soul, protect it from evil spirits, and fortify you against the effects of working magic.”
Even though it makes sense, those last two parts surprise me. I’ve been so wrapped up in saving Jack, I hadn’t considered that I might need protecting. And what does she mean about the side effects of casting magic? This
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