Page 20 of Witch Moon

Gently, she kissed his mouth, then she got off him, and slowly fixed her clothes, buttoned her blouse. He did likewise, though she could see he didn't want to. She sat on the wicker love seat, and he sat down beside her.

"Okay, mysterious Mirabella," he said, his tone loving, teasing. "What don't I know about you? You're beautiful. You're special. There's something about you that draws me like magic, Mirabella. And you love Rowan. A blind man could see that."

"It's true. I do love her. I'd risk my life for her."

He smiled at her, reaching out to straighten her hair. "I know that. You already have, as a matter of fact."

"And maybe I still am."

His brows bent until they touched. "What do you mean?"

She gave her head a rapid shake. "Will you tell me something, Jonathon?"

"Anything. Just ask."

She nodded. "Why do you hate anything having to do with Witchcraft so much?"

His face changed. The gentleness faded, and a hint of harshness came in its place. His jaw went tight, his eyes, narrow. "Why do you ask?"

Bella lifted both brows. "You said you'd tell me anything. So tell me this. Your wife was a Witch, wasn't she?"

He sent her a swift, searching look, and for the first time she saw his eyes cloud with suspicion. "How do you know that?"

"Rowan told me."

His eyes went wider. "Then she knows?"

"Yes. She knows. And she knows you disapprove of it, and refuse to talk about it, and try to keep it secret from her."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." He gave his head a shake. Bella...have you been talking to my daughter about...about Witchcraft?"

Bella swallowed hard. "Rowan asked me if her mother was the kind of person who went around butchering helpless animals and defacing tombstones with their blood."

He lowered his head slowly, pressing his palms to his forehead. "I didn't ask you what she talked about, Bella. I asked what you told her."

She drew a breath. "Well, what do you think I told her?" she asked. "I mean, for God's sake, Jonathon. Was she?"

"Was who, what?''

"Was your wife the kind of person who went around butchering-"

"No!" He shot to his feet as he said it, pacing slowly away. "No," he said more softly. "Ashley wouldn't even kill spiders."

Mirabella watched him and wished she didn't have to put him through this kind of pain, but she didn't have a choice. "What was it about her beliefs that you hated so much? I mean, there had to be something."

He shook his head. "I didn't know much about her beliefs. I didn't want to know." He met Bella's eyes. "And I still don't. It's a lot of ridiculous superstition, hocus-pocus bullshit that weakens minds, makes people believe in the impossible instead of focusing on hard, cold reality."

Bella frowned. "You really believe that?"

He nodded. "Of course I do. And it was my wife who proved it to me beyond any doubt."

Mirabella tilted her head to one side. "How?"

"She died, Bella." He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "She had ovarian cancer. She and her crazy friends thought they could beat it, even when the doctors had given up hope. But all their healing spells and chanting and herbal teas and candle burning didn't do a damn bit of good. If there were any such thing as magick or Witchcraft, then how could she have died? How could she possibly have been yanked away from me-from Rowan-so far before her time?"

Bella went to him, touched his face. "My sweet Jonathon...if it was before her time, she wouldn't have gone. She left because she had accomplished what she came into this lifetime to do. Maybe her mission was to give life to Rowan. Maybe she just wanted to experience being loved by a man like you. Or having a daughter, or...no one can say. But she's not really gone. She's only moved on."

He shook his head. "It's smoke and mirrors. Garbage. And now it's being used to twist young minds like that of Bryan Marcomb, and look at the results." He stared at her, shaking his head slowly. "You're a teacher, Mirabella. God, you of all people should know better than to believe in...in Witches, for God's sake."

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