Page 112 of A Curse On Black Lake
I pull into Delilah’s parking lot and walk around helping Eliana out of the truck.
“You know you don’t have to do that for me every time,” she says.
I toss her a deadpan look. “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.”
She rolls her lips over her teeth, trying to hide her smile as we walk to the door. Her hand settles into mine, and it catches me off guard, but I squeeze it before opening the door for her first. I notice Mary-Lou Springer staring and reach for Eliana’s hand again. Mary-Lou’s eyes widen on us, and I tip my hat to her, not because I’m being polite, but because I’m telling her to keep her comments to herself.
She sneers, and Eliana leads us down each aisle while I carry the basket. She didn’t tell me what she wanted, but she seemed to make up her mind as she collects various ingredients.
“I’ll make butter when we get home, but we should probably grab some bread.”
As we turn the corner to the aisle, the smell of freshly made bread wafts into my nose, and a young couple, about Eliana and I’s age, is there. Eliana stops short, and I realize the couple is the Reeds, Jane Reed.
Eliana’s hand twitches in mine and I almost pull her away from the aisle, but then she lifts her chin and urges me with her to the bread she wants.
“Oh look, it’s the witch and her bitch,” she sneers.
I swallow the growl in my throat as Eliana grabs a loaf, and I hold the basket up for her to put it in.
Jane’s eyes widen on us as we begin to walk past her.
Eliana tugs me behind her without giving Jane another look.
My chest swells with pride as we leave the bread aisle and she leads the way to the register.
“I’m proud of you, little witch,” I say, getting into the truck.
“I don’t know why,” she says to the window.
I reach for her hand and hold it over my heart. “You do know why, but that’s okay,” I tell her and turn.
“I have dirt on my hands,” she says.
Her index finger moves over my heart, and I kiss her hand before resting it on my thigh. “Don’t care,” I murmur.
When we get home, I carry the bags in and Eliana runs upstairs. By the time I’m done un-bagging, she’s back with cut-off shorts and a t-shirt. “Give me a minute to go milk Gertrude so I can make butter real quick.”
I chuckle shaking my head. “We could have bought butter, baby.”
She lifts a shoulder. “She needs to be milked anyway. It’s fine.”
“Can I help? I’ve never milked a cow before.”
She giggles. “That’s hard for me to believe.”
“Well, last time I checked, you can’t milk a bull.”
“I mean, you can try, and I’ll watch,” she says, half on a laugh.
“I thought you cared about me?”
“I’m here for the entertainment,” she says, grinning.
She spins on her heel, heading for the door.
“Hey,” I grunt.
“Yeah?” she asks.
