Free Whispering Hearts by Cassandra Chandler Page B

were always using salt against ghosts? But they used the actual crystals, not saltwater. There had to be some connection, though.
    When she was finished, she put everything away except her bowl of spices, then joined him. She looked pensive.
    â€œYou’re not going to ask?”
    Garrett shook his head. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I can wait.”
    Her lips pulled into a frown and she fixed her gaze on the poppets. She picked up a pinch of the spice mix and put it inside the doll.
    â€œYou can seal it now. Just don’t let anything spill out.”
    â€œWe doctors generally don’t like letting things spill out when we’re closing up a patient.” He was trying to lighten the mood, but all she gave him was a tiny smile.
    He turned his attention to finishing the poppet, pinching the cloth together so the seams were inside. He kept his stiches as tiny and unnoticeable as possible while sealing it up.
    Rachel handed him doll after doll until her stack was empty and his was full. She gathered them all up, then held them close to her chest, closing her eyes and whispering something. It was almost like she was praying over them.
    She probably was.
    â€œThey’re ready.”
    â€œIs that it? We just hang them up?”
    That intense stare was boring through him again. “No. We have to do it in a special order. We’ll start on one side of the house and work our way to the other. And there’s a little more to it than hanging them in the windows.”
    â€œLead on.”
    He smiled at her, but the lines of tension around her eyes only intensified. Her stare turned into a glare.
    He cleared his throat and gestured toward the dolls. “I can hang them up for you.”
    She handed them over, then bent down to dig around in her backpack. When she stood, a small bronze cup suspended on three small chains dangled from her hand. Openings in decorative patterns covered the lid and sides.
    â€œI’ve seen one of those before,” he said.
    â€œPriests sometimes use them during ceremonies. It’s called a censer.” She set it on the counter, then opened the lid.
    She bent to her backpack again and this time came up with a box of matches and some cones of incense. She put the incense in the censer, then lit it. She extinguished the match and set it in the bowl that had held the poppets’ spice mix.
    Smoke from the incense pricked at Garrett’s nose, the scent strong and not entirely pleasant. He was a fresh-air kind of guy. But if this would help Rachel, he didn’t care how it smelled. She grabbed the spray bottle, then handed him a box of thumbtacks.
    â€œWe’re going to have to put a hole above each window. I hope you don’t mind.”
    Her voice was thin and low. She wasn’t looking at him at all anymore.
    He wanted to make a joke about her being the one who would have to fix it the next time he asked for help repainting, but thought better of it.
    All he said was, “Not a problem.”
    They started in her room at the far end of the house. Rachel had him hang the poppet in the window, then she sprayed the window with saltwater.
    She swung the censer through the whole room, in every corner—even in the closet. Especially in the closet. Then she sprayed the doors with saltwater as well.
    â€œThis one is done.” Her voice was tight and she was still frowning.
    Garrett kept his mouth shut and nodded. Better cut his losses and not dig himself in deeper. They treated the whole house in the same way, moving from one end to the other as if they were herding something, pushing it away. His confidence in his theory grew.
    After reaching the far end of the house, they doubled back to the front door, which Rachel sprayed down liberally. She turned to the last space in his house and paused. This time, it only took Garrett a second to remember why.
    The garage.
    â€œYou don’t have to,” he said. “I’ve seen