Page 7 of Witch Moon

"I really think you ought to let Dad take you to that clinic, Miss Saint A." Rowan said. "You don't look too good. And I feel guilty enough already."

"You shouldn't feel guilty at all, Rowan."

"I won't-once I know for sure you didn't give yourself brain damage knocking me out from in front of that truck."

Mirabella lowered her head. Tough to argue with that.

Someone reached out to hand Mirabella her soft-sided briefcase. Bella followed the hand up the arm to see who was attached to the other end. Sally Hayes, the high school principal. Salt and pepper hair and a designer suit. No mistake. Bella lifted her brows. "What are you doing here, Sally?"

"I was driving by and saw the crowd. I agree with them both, Mirabella." she said, nodding toward Jonathon Hawthorne and his daughter. "Go get yourself checked out. I insist. I'll handle your classes myself today if we can't get a sub."

There was an odd look on her face, though. A speculative look, and as Bella took her case from the woman she thought she realized why. A paper bag was clearly visible, sticking up from a side pouch on the case. The logo on the bag was a Witch on a broomstick in black silhouette, and the wordsGwenyth's Chamberwere stamped across the top.

She'd picked up a few supplies while visiting Gwen this morning. But she'd put the bag in the center portion of the briefcase, and she thought she'd zipped it. Apparently, though she hadn't. Somehow, it must have fallen free during the near miss, and Sally Hayes had tucked it back into the briefcase.

Which could mean she knew what was in it.

Nothing all that incriminating, really. A handful of altar candles in various colors, some patchouli oil, and a plastic zipper bag full of Gwen's homegrown rue. It shouldn't make Bella feel suddenly nervous or worried. But it did.

"Now you see?" the man was asking. "Everyone agrees you should be looked at. And besides, you just saved my daughter's life. It's the least I can do."

Reluctantly, knowing full well she shouldn't, Mirabella nodded. "All right." Frankly, she just wanted to be out of the spotlight as soon as possible. She didn't like all these people milling around looking at her. It was too much like the dream.

"Good." Jonathon Hawthorne turned to his daughter. "Maybe you'd better be checked out too. What do you think?"

"I didn't even get a scraped knee, Dad," Rowan said. "Miss Saint A landed on the pavement, and I landed on top of her. I'm fine. But I'll go see the school nurse before first period if you want."

"You do that," he sent the principal a glance.

"I'll make sure she does," Sally Hayes said. Then she smiled at Mirabella. "You're a hero today, Mirabella. Take the whole day off, if you like. And let me know if you need more time."

"Thank you," Bella said.

"Come along, Rowan. You can walk the rest of the way to school with me."

Rowan averted her face from the principal's view before she rolled her eyes. "Dad's going to drop me off, Mrs. Hayes. It's on the way to the clinic."

"Oh. All right then," Sally said.

Rowan's father turned Bella around, one hand on her arm, as if he thought she might fall again at any moment, and led her and his daughter across the street. His shiny black car stood cockeyed where he'd apparently skidded to a halt in panic at seeing his daughter nearly flattened by a truck. He opened the front passenger door, took Bella's briefcase from her, and held it as she got in. Then he leaned in, fastened her seatbelt for her, and handed the case back to her.

Bella shoved theGwenyth's Chamberbag deeper into the front pouch, out of sight.

Rowan got into the back seat, and a second later, her father was behind the wheel and pulling away.

Chapter 3

He drove, she rode, and neither of them spoke much once they'd dropped Rowan at school. But he kept finding his gaze drawn to her, and since she mostly stared out the window, it was easy enough to look his fill. He wasn't sure what there was about the woman that should send warm waves of pleasure surging through his insides every time he touched her or looked too deeply into her eyes. Probably no more than the fact that he'd just seen her save his daughter's life, and his daughter was everything to him.

Yeah. That was all it was.

Her hair wasn't all that striking-even though it was the blue black of a raven's wing. And her eyes werenotthat enticing-just because their marbled green color was so vivid. Like malachite. Probably colored contacts, he imagined. And her shape was nothing to get this worked up about. Sure, she was willowy, leggy, lithe. But so were a lot of women these days. It wasn't that unusual.

The only thing different about her was her heroism in the face of a speeding truck. And the dirty smudges on her proper pearl-colored skirt and matching blazer. The run in her nylons. The bruise on her pretty cheek where she'd come between his precious Rowan and the pavement

Yeah. No wonder she looked good to him. It wasn't attraction. It couldn't be attraction, because he didn'tdoattraction. Hadn't been drawn to another woman since Ashley died.

"I...um....can get someone to bring my car to the clinic. You can just drop me and go on your way. I don't want to make you late for work," she said, when she turned and caught him staring.

---