Holiday Magick by Rich Storrs Read Free Book Online

until this one.
    This valentine had been sent via the United States Postal Service.
    Worse, it seemed that Esther had done such a wonderful job in creating the valentine that Edward had shown it around to his neighbors and coworkers before rushing back to Central Massachusetts. Jessamine sobbed out the tale of how he, followed by a bevy of strangers, both men and women, had arrived on her doorstep, bearing all manner of gifts and tokens, along with Edward’s landlady, the local barkeep, the butcher, and elderly Mr. Fullerton.
    Mrs. Fullerton would not be amused.
    â€œAnd they won’t stop,” Jessamine sobbed. “They keep coming… No matter where I hide, they find me.” Jessamine’s head drooped, and Esther patted her friend’s shoulder. Before she could offer any words of encouragement, the maid peeked out the front window.
    â€œMa’am?” She beckoned Esther to the glass, holding the curtain aside. “I believe we’ll be having a few more guests.”
    Swallowing the lump in her throat, Esther looked. Appearing like wraiths from the grave, a veritable mob was making its way down the front walkway, trampling the azalea bushes her father so prized, calling out Jessamine’s name. Most of them looked as if they’d walked all the way from New York, with their shambling gait and tattered clothes, their minds intent on one purpose.
    Jessamine.
    The lump in her throat now firmly lodged in her gut, Esther sprang into action. “We must break the spell!” Esther cried, grabbing Jessamine and fleeing to the pantry. “Quickly, I need sour and bitter things! Gather anything you see!”
    In a few moments, they had assembled in the center of the kitchen table a jar of lemon curd, brined sardines, assorted pickles, and a decanter of whiskey. Esther raised an eyebrow at the whiskey, but didn’t ask. Instead, she added a jar of mustard seed and grabbed a heavy pottery bowl, throwing the valentine in the bottom.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Jessamine demanded.
    â€œSouring their feelings for you,” Esther replied, as she dumped first the lemon curd, and then the pickled eggs atop the card.
    â€œEven Edward?”
    â€œEven Edward.” Deciding that the whiskey wasn’t such a bad idea, she dumped a jigger’s worth atop the mess and threw the whole bowl into the hearth.
    Nothing happened.
    Esther and Jessamine stood before the hearth for one, two, three heartbeats, then Jessamine leaned toward the flames. Esther barely had time to clutch her arm and pull her back before the bowl cracked, and then a white light blinded them. Once her vision cleared, Esther found Jessamine looking at her expectantly.
    â€œDid it work?” Jessamine asked.
    â€œWe shall see.” Cautiously, Esther stepped into the hall. Instead of the loud voices professing undying love for Jessamine, Esther only heard a few mumbled questions.
    â€œWhere am I?”
    â€œHow did we all end up here?”
    â€œI’ve never been this late with the mail before, beggin’ your pardon.”
    â€œJessamine!” Edward’s voice carried above the rest, and he shouldered the others aside as he pushed into the house and swept Jessamine into his arms. Apparently, all this trouble with the valentine had been for naught; he’d truly loved her all along.
    Esther, with the help of her maid, managed to usher the rest out the door, some with small purses, funded by Esther’s non-spelled valentines, to pay for lodging and train tickets home. The last thing Esther needed was her father hearing of this incident, especially since she was running out of servants to blame for all the odd occurrences, and Esther did so get on with the maid.
    Once all the guests had gone, either to the local inn or, in the case of Edward and Jessamine, to the Hillebrand homestead, Esther’s maid fixed her with a piercing gaze. “Now, will you leave such charms alone,