Free The Spirit Tree by Kathryn M. Hearst Page A

Gram Mae.
    Dottie took a chair. “Boys?”
    “I invited Detective Burns.” Mae grinned from ear to ear.
    I grabbed my crutches and walked out the door. One day since we’d said good-bye to Charlie, and Mae was already playing matchmaker? I resolved to tell Aaron to stop accepting my great-grandmother’s invitations.
    I retrieved the bottles from my trunk and set them near Mae’s porch steps. If the weather held out, I’d hang them in the tree later. I didn’t bother looking for snakes on the path to Dottie’s. I knew they were watching me; their eyes made the hair on the back of my neck stand upright. While I knew they were protecting me, I couldn’t get past my apprehension.
    Fear gripped me; no one had locked the front door. With people trying to break in, someone should have thought to lock it. A quick inspection told me that everything was in place. The bloodstain had faded, though still damp from scrubbing. The house seemed peaceful, but my heart continued to pound.
    I half expected to see Uncle Charlie walk out of his office and ask about dinner. Several times a day, I had to remind myself he wouldn’t be coming back. I didn’t have time to follow that train of thought, though. Mae was expecting company.
    A white sedan bounced its way up the drive. Our guests were arriving earlier than planned—good. I hurried to the kitchen, pulled the heavy cast-iron pan from the cabinet, and walked to the front porch to get a better look. The snakes had returned to the porch and walkway. Perfect .
    A middle-aged man stepped from the car and glanced around. If he noticed the snakes, he didn’t react. I couldn’t decide if she admired him or thought him crazy. Snakes swirled in his path but managed to get out of the way before he stepped on them.
    “Dr. Hicks?” I called from the porch and waved my free hand. The amulet around my neck grew cold.
    “That’s me.” He smiled and walked in my direction.
    I cradled the heavy skillet against my chest and limped toward him, mindful of the snakes at my feet. The amulet chilled me to the bone. I hesitated leaving the safety of the front porch, but the pan made as good a weapon as any. If Dr. Hicks set the amulet off, I could clock him with the skillet.
    “I’m Tessa, Charlie’s great-niece. My great-grandmother and aunt are—” I walked toward him and caught movement in the corner of my eye, a split second before a gun fired.
    I would’ve bet my life that the cast-iron frying pan would stop a bullet—and I would’ve lost. The force of the shot knocked me to the ground, and the weight of the skillet made it difficult to breathe. I stared, half-blind, into the canopy of live oaks. In the distance someone yelled, “Stay inside.”
    Someone took pieces of the skillet from my hands. It dawned on me that I’d been shot. Panic and pain followed. Someone lifted me from the ground and ran, laying me on the ground near Mae’s house. My body burned with a fire that started in my chest and ran out to my fingers, toes, and the top of my head, like lava in my veins.
    “She’s gone,” a voice said from somewhere above me.
    I’m not dead . I could see the sky, and hear Mae and Dottie wailing. My body burned as I tried to call out, but no sound came. Maybe I’d died and was on my way to hell. The little preacher in my head shook his Bible.
    A black animal moved near me, but I couldn’t turn my head to see. Had the wolves returned? I had to get inside, but I couldn’t move, any more than I could call out. The animal sniffed near my ear, and I expected teeth to tear into my flesh. Instead, a huge bear filled my vision. The bear nudged the side of my face, grunted, and disappeared from view. It stayed close, but not close enough to see.
    Snakes crawled over me, their cool skin slithering over my limbs. I wanted to scream, to flail and toss them off, but I lay helpless to their whims. When I thought my mind would break from the feel of them, they vanished.
    Fire. I burned from