Free Barely Bewitched by Kimberly Frost Page B

killed the plants and burned the ground very deeply. I already knew that I’d damaged the yard. I’d had to draw power from the earth the week before to rescue some people from a sleeping sickness. The aftermath of the spell had decimated Aunt Melanie’s herb garden.
    What I hadn’t known before now was that the ground was still suffering. I knelt down and touched it, smelling soot and feeling the dry, barren soil. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”
    I came inside to the grating sound of the ringing phone. Too loud. I grabbed my ears as I raced toward it. The machine picked up just as I got there.
    “This is Jordan, love. Meet Incendio and me on the Corsic Creek Bridge in an hour.”
    I unplugged the phone and the machine. Then I grabbed a tray of cupcakes and went out the front door.

    By afternoon, my house and yard were full. I licked honey off my fingers and kissed the jam off my four-year-old neighbor’s cheek before I plopped her back down in front of the cartoons playing on the television.
    I waved and smiled at the three school-aged children who passed by. They rolled a red wagon full of chrysanthemums and a plastic bucket of water through the living room on their way to the yard.
    Bryn Lyons followed in their wake, stopping at my kitchen countertop.
    “ What is going on?” he asked.
    “We’re saving the earth. Want some of my homemade ice cream? I’ve got cherry chocolate chip and mint fudge. Though the mint fudge might not be all the way hardened yet,” I said.
    “Do you know there are children at the entrance of the neighborhood digging up plants and then rolling them over here in wheelbarrows? They’re like ants marching in single file.”
    “Ants are perfectly within their rights to walk in single file if that’s how they like it.” I skipped around the counter and out to my yard, hopping over games and toys and children as I went.
    “Make sure you pad the ropes, Matthew, so they don’t cut into the tree,” I instructed the boys, then turned back to Bryn. “I got cursed and now nature talks to me.”
    He stared at me. You so rarely see a lawyer at a loss for words. It’s kind of nice.
    The kids called for my attention to their work projects. I walked around, surveying. Rings of flowers organized by color. A castle painted in vibrant reds, blues, and yellows on the formerly white fence. Plants and garden art brimming from every nook. And from the older boys, a soon-to-be-completed massive hanging tree house. They already had the platform for its floor in place.
    Matt dropped out of the tree and landed at my feet. He was tall and chubby, but an excellent climber.
    “What do you think, Tammy?”
    “It’s wonderful,” I said and kissed him on the cheek.
    He grinned. “Okay, fellas, she likes it. Let’s get the back wall up,” Matt said and scaled the trunk.
    “Does the construction union know there’s a twelve-year-old foreman on the job here?” Bryn asked, his voice as dry as one of Edie’s martinis.
    “This doesn’t concern them.”
    Abby, who was about eight years old, rushed into the yard, her dark brown hair streaming behind her. “Miss Tammy, Mrs. Packney’s coming up the walk, and she’s real mad about her rosebush.”
    I bent down. “Abby, I’ve got company. Would you like to take care of it for me?”
    “Yes, ma’am!” She raced back inside.
    “Only a pinch!” I called after her.
    “A pinch of what?” Bryn said, gently pulling me back into the house. He avoided some muddy water that had sloshed onto the floor. I stepped onto a skateboard and, as he pulled me, I rolled through the house to the front hall.
    “I don’t believe this,” he muttered as I hopped off the board and tugged him so that we were wedged in a corner behind the tall chest of drawers. When Mrs. Packney got to the door she wouldn’t be able to see us.
    Abby stood a couple feet away, peering out. The small box, still covered with dirt and weeds, stood at the ready near the front doorway.