Page 21 of Magic Touch
Samuel darted back, holding up the pin.
"Mr. Moore, is it?" I say, turning the cart driver away from what is bound to be better for him not to see. "I am Esme O'Dwyer. Sir William is conveying my grandmother and me to our home. I'm so glad we met you and had the chance to stretch our legs. I do hate long drives. Where were you heading today before this unfortunate accident?"
He points down the road at nothing. "Have to get this grain to Sorrel's farm. He's going to dock my pay for being late." Mr. Moore's face reddens, and he shakes his head.
I place my hand on his arm and send him a soft infusion of calm. Behind Mr. Moore, Samuel is lifting the cart with no strain at all, William is placing the wheel on the axle, and Prudence is pointing as if she's directing them. What none of them can detect is the shimmer of gold swirling from Prudence’s hands as her magic lifts the cart and all its content from the road.
Mr. Moore calms, and his skin returns to a healthier color. "I suppose it will be all right."
"Of course, it will. Look, they've nearly fixed it." I ease Mr. Moore around to see the cart resting on the wheel.
William pushes the pin into place and secures the end. "We'll help you reload, Mr. Moore."
I rush over to Prudence and take her arm so that Henry can help with the sacks. "Are you alright, Great Mother?"
Prudence pats my hand. "Just fine. I'm not so old I can't lift a cart for a few minutes. In fact, while my body has weakened over the years, my magic has only grown. An odd twist of fate. Perhaps we can go back to the carriage, child. They'll be done here in a moment or two, and your little cat will be none too happy to be trapped in that bag."
On the driver's seat, Anne is gaping.
I give her a smile and hope she will grow used to magic. Time will tell.
Inside, Simon is on the floor, with his head and one paw already out of the bag. He looks up when I open the door and gives an unhappy cry. "I don't want you to get lost in the middle of nowhere. Forgive me?"
Once I help Prudence to her seat, I climb up and loosen the top of the bag.
Simon fights his way out before I've completed the task, hisses at me, then curls in a ball in my lap and purrs.
At least he is as forgiving as he is quick to anger.
I pet his head and scratch under his chin until the carriage rocks with Samuel climbing up.
William gets in. "That was rather handy, madam. Thank you."
The carriage rocks again as Henry takes his seat in the boot. A moment later, we're moving again.
Prudence smiles, showing crooked yellowed teeth. At her age, it is a miracle she has teeth at all. "It was nothing. I needed to stretch my muscles a bit. Sara Beth hardly ever lets me cast."
"Whyever not?" I ask.
With a sigh, Prudence closes her eyes. "She fears it will exhaust me."
William leans forward and speaks urgently. "And has it?"
She waves off his worry. "Not at all. I'm nearly one hundred and fifty years old, my boy. Living is far more exhausting than magic."
Eyes wide, he looks at me.
I shrug. I knew she had to be at least that old. She was an old woman when my mother was a girl. Mother told stories about the formidable Prudence Bishop and how she'd outlived all her contemporaries.
"When she was a girl," Prudence says, "I thought her the most beautiful witch I'd ever seen."
"Who, Great Mother?" I ask.
"Was it not your mother you were just thinking about? Your thoughts were so loud, Sir William probably heard them, too." She looks across at him, but when he appears bewildered, she shrugs. "Or perhaps not."
"I was thinking of her and of you," I admit.
"You have her look. Soft hair and green eyes that would turn a bad man good, and a good man bad, the other witches used to say. Of course, your father was a good man and a witch in his own right. He might have changed the coven for the better, but Betty Ware was dead set against men in the coven." Prudence shakes her head, and a sad smile pulls at her mouth. "Betty wasn't wrong about much, but I think she made a mistake where your parents were concerned. Your mother was formidable and loyal to a fault. We needed her. Betty needed her."
