The Seventh Witch Read Online Free PDF Page B

so and so on the Chisholm side.
    A family tree? Dang, it was more like some kind of a vine meandering off in a dozen different directions. I couldn’t keep it all straight. Not that I had to—it seemed my reputation preceded me, thanks no doubt to Aunt Dot. Instead of talking about how we were all related, the cousins were more interested in murder and mayhem.
    “My land, did you really find a basement full of dead bodies?” one cousin queried.
    “Um, yeah—”
    “Did it stink?” a young man asked.
    “Ah—”
    “Getting shot? Does it hurt?” another piped in.
    “Yes,” I exclaimed.
    “How many times you been kidnapped?”
    “More than I care to be,” I fired back.
    I shot Aunt Dot a dirty look during my interrogation, but she was oblivious. She stood there, her wrinkled face wreathed in smiles, like she’d brought home a trophy.
    Finally, my rescue arrived in the form of a blonde, about my height, with a soft southern voice and eyes that shifted in color as quickly as a cloud drifting across the moon.
    She drew me over to the end of one table. “Here, darlin’,” she said, pressing a glass filled with cold amber liquid into my hand. “It’s sweet tea. You must be parched after answerin’ all those questions.”
    I nodded and took a big gulp.
    Holding out her hand, she smiled. “I’m Lydia Wiley, by the way. I’d try and explain how we’re related, but I imagine you’ve heard enough of that for one day.”
    Returning her smile, I took her hand. I felt it instantly—a wave of warm, green, healing light wash over me. Closing my eyes for a second, I allowed myself to enjoy the sense of peace emanating from her.
    “You’re a healer, aren’t you?” I asked as I let my eyes drift open.
    Lydia’s hand released mine and went to the medallion she wore around her neck. A rectangle of beaten silver with three swirls was engraved on its polished surface.
    “Yes, mostly midwifing, treating colicky babies, colds, that sort of thing.” She eyed young Ruthie, standing obediently at an older woman’s side. “I expect I’ll be attending that one,” she said with a nod in Ruthie’s direction.
    I looked at Ruthie’s flat stomach. “She’s pregnant?”
    Lydia bobbed her head and gave me a sly glance. “She is, but she doesn’t realize it yet. About six weeks along, I think.” She waved a hand toward the woman next to Ruthie. “Her mama-in-law is going to be thrilled. She’s had ‘grandma fever’ for a long time.”
    “Lydia, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” I asked with hesitation.
    “Go right ahead, sweetie.”
    “Does it bother you knowing things about the people around you?”
    Her chameleon eyes shifted from green to blue as they traveled from cousin to cousin. “Some. When I lay hands on a body, and I know the sickness is too deep.” Her voice dropped low. “When I know not even a doctor with his city ways can help, it fills me with a bone deep weariness.” Shefaced me. “But Great-Aunt Mary’s helped me learn to live with it over the years.”
    I was shocked. “Great-Aunt Mary’s helped?”
    Lydia laughed. “Yes, darlin’, I know. She’s a persnickety one, isn’t she? But she’s done many kindnesses for the people of these mountains, even ones that don’t hold with our ways.” She paused and her eyes darkened. “I heard you had a run-in with a snake?”
    “How did you know? Did you sense it?”
    “There’s other ways to learn things, other than tapping into somebody’s mind,” she replied, leaning close. “It’s called good, ol’-fashioned gossip.”
    “Gossip, huh?”
    “You bet,” she answered with a chuckle. “Word around here travels faster than a grass fire in a high wind.”
    Huh, sounded like Summerset.
    Taking Lydia’s arm, I drew her away from the table. She was obviously very talented, maybe she could give me insight into why Abby was acting strangely.
    “Lydia, I have another question for you,” I began earnestly. “Since we’ve