Page 77 of Sweetwater and the Witch

She settled deeper into the passenger seat of the Slider and watched the mountain scenery glide past. Ethan was at the wheel and Harriet was riding in her favorite position on the back of the front seat. She clutched a new pen. It was bright purple and it was engraved with the logo of the Silver Lake Lodge. Ravenna suspected it had come from the small desk in her room.

She had dreaded the big farewell breakfast, but to her relief it had been a warm, cheerful family event. There hadn’t been any sly glances—okay, maybe one or two from her younger nieces, and she had heard a few giggles when Ethan went through the buffet line—but no one had demanded an explanation of what she would always think of as the Great Meltdown.

“I hate to break this to you,” Ethan said, “but I’m pretty sure no one asked any personal questions this morning because everyone knows exactly what happened last night.”

She winced. “I was afraid you were going to say that. It didn’t help that your grandfather got into the act with that phone call he made to my grandfather.”

“Are we going to argue about who is to blame for last night?”

She gritted her teeth. “No. I’m well aware it was my fault.”

“Exactly.”

“Excuse me, but I think you should be a little more supportive. It’s not every day I have a major meltdown in front of my entire family.”

“They did seem a little stunned at the time, but it’s clear they have recovered.”

She decided that comment did not warrant a response. She decided to sit back and enjoy the scenery. Her silence did not seem to affect Ethan, which was annoying, so she searched for a neutral topic of conversation.

“I asked the hotel kitchen to refill the picnic basket,” she said, going for bright and cheerful. “Can’t wait to see what’s inside.”

“Something to look forward to,” Ethan said.

It was a perfectly polite response, but for some reason it irritated her. She had to swallow a snarky comeback. Ridiculous. It was just road food, for goodness’ sake.

This was not going well, she reflected. It dawned on her she was apparently spoiling for a fight, and she had no idea why. She and Ethan had settled things last night. They were having an affair. Fine. She was going to resign from Ottoway and relaunch her career at the Banks agency. Fine. When they got back to Illusion Town, Ethan was going to help her investigate the strange behavior of two men who had recently tried to kill her. Fine. Okay, so that meant she was still in his debt, but—fine.

There was nothing to argue about, but she wanted to keep rezzing Ethan’s buttons. That was just dumb.

It was time to be honest with herself. She knew why she was in such a bad mood. She wanted more from Ethan than a vaguely defined affair. She wanted a commitment. She had no right to ask for that, not after such a short time together. There was nothing to suggest they would be a good match long-term. Then again, how did she know they wouldn’t be? A matchmaker who tried to match herself had a gambler for a matchmaker. When it came to Covenant Marriage, mistakes were very, very costly.

The last truck stop at Grimley Pass was several miles behind them, as was the series of warning signs to motorists—Do Not Attempt to Cross Desert After Dark,No Services Until Connerville,Don’t Forget Extra Water,No Cell Service Until Connerville,Do Not Stop in the Hot Zone—when she got the ping.

She was reaching into the back seat to grab the picnic basket and thinking of asking Ethan if he might be interested in registering at the Banks agency—just as a matter of curiosity, to see if by some chance they might be a good match—when she suddenly chilled. Something was wrong. She hauled the basket over the back of the seat, set it on her lap, and fastened her seat belt.

She realized Ethan was paying too much attention to the rearview mirror. The energy around him was charged. Harriet seemed aware of the change, too. She was still fluffed up, but she had opened her hunting eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Ravenna asked.

Ethan glanced at the rearview mirror again. “I may be a little paranoid these days, but I think there is a possibility we’re being followed.”

“What?”

She turned in the seat to peer out the rear window and saw a muscular SUV in the distance.

“Shit,” Ethan said quietly. There was no heat or alarm in the word, just an acceptance of reality. “We’ve got a problem.”

Ravenna settled back into her seat and saw that he was checking the instruments on the dashboard.

“You’re sure we’re being followed?” she asked. “That vehicle is quite a ways behind us. It doesn’t seem to be trying to close the distance.”

“The SUV is a problem, but not our first priority. I’m getting a warning signal from the car’s security system.”

“Engine trouble?”

“No. Someone planted a tech device on the car. It was activated a few seconds ago by remote control.”

“What kind of device?”

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