Believe: The Complete Channie Series (46 page)

“Why don’t you just shoot them?” Josh’s gaze darted towards the pine bench. Channie knew he was thinking about the gun stashed inside her backpack.

She slid her arms into her coat, strapped a hunting knife to her right calf and said, “Ammunition is expensive. It’s not worth it for the amount of meat you get from a rabbit.”

“But...traps are cruel.”

Aunt Wisdom said, “Are you a vegetarian?”

“No.”

“Have you ever seen a commercial feed lot?”

“No.”

“I rest my case.”

The first trap was empty, but not the second. Josh’s grimace was so subtle, Channie doubted anyone else would have noticed. She wished the snare had broken the rabbit’s neck or strangled it before they got there, but it was a large male, still alive and kicking. “Josh, turn your back for a second.”

He swallowed twice then cleared his throat before speaking. “Do you want me to do it?”

“No. I don’t enjoy killing, but I’m used to it. And believe me, this is much kinder than slow death by starvation or disembowelment by a fox or coyote. But, it will probably upset you.”

“I want to learn.”

“Are you sure?”

“Show me how and I’ll do the next one.”

By now, the animal was half-dead, lying on his side with his back legs stretched out behind him. Channie stepped on them to pin him to the ground. Not enough weight to inflict pain, but enough to keep him from kicking her. The rabbit shrieked as only a rabbit can. Josh gasped and took a step back, looking at Channie as if she were some kind of monster. She grabbed the line leading to the snare and gave it a quick jerk.

Josh shuddered. “I didn’t know a rabbit could scream.”

“They only do it when they’re really scared...or hurt. I’m sorry you had to hear that. It stays with you for a while.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Like your Aunt said, I eat meat. Although, I’m seriously considering vegetarianism.”

Channie removed the noose and dropped the rabbit in the sack. “Yeah, right. I’ve seen the way you inhale steak.”

They were both relieved when the rest of the traps were empty. Channie adjusted the last one, adding a few more leaves to hide the tripwire and said, “That’s all of them.”

“That’s too bad.” Josh puffed his chest out and said, “I was really looking forward to demonstrating my awesome survivalist skills.”

“When we get back to the cabin, I’ll let you skin and gut this one to prove your manhood.”

“Uh…” The skin around Josh’s lips turned green.

“I’m kidding, Josh. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I can do it. I want to do it. But you’ll have to teach me how.”

Josh was trying so hard to prove himself, to fit in. But he didn’t belong here. The other mages would never accept him. Without his shield, he had no defense against magic. And even if Aunt Wisdom built him a new one, he’d still be the butt of every joke, the target of every bully. But it was worse than that… 

The Book of the Dead wasn’t the only thing threatening their lives. Channie hadn’t exactly forgotten about the Veyjivik clan, but she’d been so focused on the book’s curse that she’d let their murderous vows slip to the back of her mind.

As long as they were together, Josh would be in danger. He needed to go home, and he needed to go without her. It would be so much harder this time, knowing how much it would hurt them both. And she couldn’t just write a note and run away, she’d have to convince him to leave. But how? Josh wouldn’t leave just because she told him to go away, especially if she said it was to protect him. She would have to convince him that she was committed to Hunter, that she wanted Josh to leave so she could be a good wife.

How many times could her heart break before it shattered? She knew she should just get it over with, but she couldn’t do it. Not yet. The Veyjivik trackers wouldn’t be back for another month. She could wait until the wedding to tell him. But she’d have to do it before she and Hunter exchanged vows. She knew that Josh was planning to comfort her as soon as Hunter did what he had to do and left. It wouldn’t be fair to let it go that far. But for the next few days, she wanted to spend every second with Josh and she wanted those seconds to be happy. It was the last gift she’d ever be able to give him. It wasn’t enough, but it was all she had.

When they got back, Channie gave Josh her willow basket and sent him to the hen house to collect eggs while she skinned and cleaned the rabbit on the butcher block behind the cabin. Aunt Wisdom had already cut up the meat and added it to the stew pot when Josh walked in and set the basket on the kitchen table.

Channie peeked inside and frowned. There were only three white eggs. “Is that all you found?” Unless a fox had raided the hen house, or the Rhode Island Reds had quit laying, there should have been at least a dozen brown eggs.

Josh said, “Why don’t we eat the chickens instead of trapping rabbits?”

“Rabbits don’t lay eggs.”

“They don’t bite and scratch either.” He held his arms out to show Channie the welts and peck marks peppering the back of his hands.

“Wanna bet?” She pulled back her sleeve to show him the faint but jagged scar that ran up the inside of her forearm.

“A rabbit did that?”

“I thought it was dead, but when I loosened the noose, it kicked the living daylights out of me. Got away too.” Just thinking about it made her mad. Channie grabbed her basket and said, “Come on, I’ll show you how to handle the hens.”

Josh bowed his head and followed her outside. “I hate chickens.”

Channie grabbed a handful of corn from the feed bin and scattered it. All but one of the hens abandoned their nests and flocked to the ground.

Josh rolled his eyes and said, “Why didn’t you tell me to feed them first?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve done all my life, It never occurred to me that you wouldn’t know.” She lifted the broody hen off her nest, much to the chicken’s dismay, and held her against her body while Josh grabbed her eggs.

When they finished, Josh set the basket on top of the feed bin, pulled Channie into his arms and kissed her. It was almost painful, the way he crushed his mouth against hers, desperate and needy. She shouldn’t let him kiss her, it was cruel to let him think she’d changed her mind, but she was powerless in his arms. Josh filled her senses and crowded out everything else, pushing Hunter, the Veyjiviks and the Book of the Dead to the far recesses of her mind.

When they came up for air, Josh said, “I’ve been wanting to do that all morning.”

“Why didn’t you?” They’d been alone in the forest all morning, the fresh scent of pine tickling their noses. Channie couldn’t think of a less romantic place to make out than the hen house.

“I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

Channie lifted her eyebrows.

“You know?...that all I care about is the physical stuff?”

Channie brushed the curls off his brow with her fingertips and said, “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, either.”

Josh’s eyes filled with tears, but he smiled and pulled her close before they overflowed. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m not giving up on us. Not yet. After you’re married, if you still want me to leave, I’ll go.”

How did he know? How could he possibly know what she’d been thinking? It shouldn’t have surprised her. Josh always knew what was in her heart.

The
next two days passed in a blur of misery. Channie and Josh tried to pretend that they were coping, for each other’s sake, but it was clear to both of them that they weren’t.

When Channie woke up on December 2, Josh was gone. She didn’t even bother to get dressed. She ran to the front porch and collapsed against the rail with relief when she saw that his car was still there. Still parked at the bottom of the hill. She was afraid he’d left without saying good bye. The bike rack on the roof was empty. That made sense. If Josh had any chance of finding comfort today, it would be on his bicycle.

But there was no comfort for Channie, and there never would be again. Her stomach clenched around the cold stone of dread in her belly. She wrapped her arms across her chest and rocked forward in pain. This was not how she’d imagined her wedding day.

She grabbed a couple of logs off the pile stacked against the south side of the cabin and stoked the fire in the potbellied stove. She drug a chair away from the kitchen table and huddled in the corner next to the stove. Within minutes, her skin glowed red but she still felt cold inside. Shadows crept across the splintered floorboards as the sun moved across the sky, reaching for the western hills, dragging her heart with it as it fell behind the ridge.

It was nearly dark when Hunter knocked on the door then opened it without waiting for an invitation. “Hey, Channie.”

“Hey.”

“Where is everyone?”

“I don’t know. They were gone when I woke up this morning.” She barely recognized her own voice. Monotone, overly polite, empty.

“Why are you sitting in the dark?” Hunter set a bouquet of Sandwort, Lady’s Slipper and Larkspur on the table then lit the lantern hanging from the support beam.

Channie suppressed the urge to chastise him for magically forcing the wildflowers to bloom out of season, causing irreparable damage to the plants.

He slipped out of his overcoat and hung it on a nail next to the front door. “Um...the moon will rise soon. Shouldn’t you get ready?”

Channie followed his gaze from her tangled hair to her dirty hands as she absently picked at a hole in her flannel nightgown.

Hunter was wearing a threadbare suit coat that fell from his shoulders and covered all but his fingertips. The waist band of his dress trousers was pleated and cinched around his waist with a belt. His pant’s cuffs pooled over the tops his hiking boots—the only part of his getup that fit. He’d gone to a lot of trouble, borrowing a suit and gathering flowers.

She still didn’t want to marry him...much less sleep with him, but he was trying to make the best of the situation. The least she could do was change into a dress and brush her hair.

She nodded towards the kitchen and said, “Have a seat, I’ll go change.”

Channie found the dress Momma had made for her social debut hanging in the back of her chifferobe. Her debut would have been at the gathering during winter’s solstice which, ironically, just so happened to be Josh’s birthday. The irony of all ironies was that when Momma had taken Channie to Walmart to pick out the fabric, she’d chosen the emerald green velvet because Hunter had once commented on the unusual color of her eyes and she’d wanted to impress him.

Channie went into Momma and Daddy’s room and pulled the dress on, but couldn’t reach all the buttons in the back. She cracked the bedroom door open and said, “Hunter? Could you …?” She turned around and lifted her hair.

“My pleasure.” Hunter’s hands shook as he buttoned her dress.

Channie took shallow breaths through her mouth and silently counted each button as he fastened it.
Four, three, two, one, done!
She stepped away from him and shut the door.

How was she going to endure her wedding night if she could barely stand his touch on her back?

He knocked on the door. “Channie? Are you okay?”

“Could you get me a drink of water? I’ll be right out.”

“Sure.” Hunter sighed so loudly, she heard it through the closed door. “Take as much time as you need.”

Five minutes later, Channie opened the door.

The front room was unnaturally bright. At first she thought Hunter had lit another lantern. But kerosene lanterns didn’t pulse and buzz. Channie’s heart plunged to her feet, smacked the floor then bounced back into her throat. Hunter was holding the Book of the Dead...and the damned thing was glowing.

“Hunter! What are you doing? Put that down!”

“Is this it? Is this the book that’s causing all the ruckus?”

“Put it down. Now.”

“Okay, okay.” He laid it on the table, but kept one hand on the cover. “I was just curious.”

“And incredibly stupid.”

“I didn’t know what it was at first, but when it started glowing …” he nodded towards the book, “I thought I’d better check it out. I’ve never seen anything like it.”