Seasons of Love (Witches of Warren County) Read online

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  © Summer Donnelly, 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement

  Writing is a solitary job but no book is written alone. Huge thanks go out to Phoenix Prime, the amazing writing collective to which I am lucky enough to belong. From Diane and Dorene who work tirelessly to make our books better to the tribe who helps hone our ideas, thank you.

  For CT, LT, and ST who are at the heart of all I do. I love you

  Snowball’s Chance

  The winter landscape passed in a blur of oak trees and falling rock zones as January Zielinski stared out the passenger window of her dad’s 1976 Dodge Power Wagon. Each bump in the road hit the heavy-duty suspension like a ton of bricks and caused her to bounce uncomfortably on the light blue vinyl seats. Using her jacket as an ill-suited pillow, she leaned against the window and watched the scenery roll by.

  “We’ll start over this time, Bug,” her dad said, wiping his non-driving hand down the worn denim on his thigh. “This will be better than that farm in Virginia. I promise. It’ll be good, right?”

  January’s smile was sad. “I’ll do my best, Dad.”

  “I know you will, Bug,” he said, reaching across the bench seat and patting her knee.

  It was the same thing, every few months, January thought as she traced her finger against the condensation film on the glass window. Ever since her mom died, it had just been one home after another. Whenever things got tough, he’d pack up the old truck and off they’d go — chasing some new dream while peace eluded him.

  Harper’s Mill was just another stop in a long line of unending stops. This would be her tenth school in the last four years. She was so hopelessly behind on credits to graduate she didn’t know what to do or where to go. Hopefully, there was a school guidance counselor she could talk to and figure out how to graduate close to on time.

  She pulled her long dark hair out of the messy bun on top of her hair and massaged her scalp. “How much longer, Dad?”

  He grinned at her, dimples and white teeth flashing in the pale winter daylight. January’s heart caught at the memory of that grin at other times and in other scenes. She missed her Dad and the stranger who occupied his mind and body was a poor substitute. “‘Are we there yet, Dad?’” he mimicked as he hit the directional and exited the highway.

  She had nothing to say so she rolled her eyes at him.

  “Mr. Todd told me there’s a diner on Main Street that’s open until eight. We’ll grab dinner and then go get settled at our apartment.” He pulled into a charming chrome and neon lit diner with a flashing sign that said The Breakfast Club on the front.

  “This is cute,” January said. “I wonder if they need any help. I could use a job.”

  “All we can do is ask,” her dad said. He opened the door and stepped down, the heels of his well-worn cowboy boots echoing on the winter hard macadam.

  January stepped down, her old sneakers doing little to insulate from the cold air. “Can I get a burger?” she asked her dad as they walked up the stairs. Her dad paused at the top of the stairs and looked around the small town and nodded. Just once.

  January watched as a weight lifted from him and a small bubble of hope rose in her. Was this it? Was Harper’s Mill, New Jersey going to be their forever home?

  But all he said was, “You bet, Bug. Burgers and all the works sound great.”

  They waited to be seated and January admired the freshly baked desserts in the rotating display. The Boston cream pie called to her and she wondered if she could flash her dad her almost patented puppy-dog eyes and get a slice. For later.

  “I’m Brooke,” their waitress said as she seated them. She handed them their menus. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Just water,” January said with a smile. She turned to look at the burger selection and felt her mouth water with a combination of hunger and choices.

  “Coffee, black,” her dad said, flashing his usual smile at the waitress.

  “I like it,” January said. “Here, I mean. Will we stay this time, Dad?”

  Her dad’s brown eyes looked haunted for a moment before he shook it off. “I’ll do my best, too, okay?” He held his closed fist out to her and she tapped it with her own before pulling her hand back, their fingers waving at each other.

  Brooke returned with their drinks. She narrowed her eyes. “Are you guys new in town?”

  “I’m Zack Zielinski, the new barn manager up at Farraday Farms. This is my daughter January. She’ll be a senior at Harper High.”

  January smiled and waved with a little self-deprecating wave at Brooke.

  “Oh cool. You should meet my sister.” Brooke turned to call into the kitchen. “Hey, Tabby! Get out here.”

  “I have silverware to roll.”

  “Could you not give me attitude for five stinking minutes? I have someone I want to introduce you to.”

  Tabby came out of the closed off section of the dining room, still grumbling at her sister. “Tabitha, this is January. She’s going to be new to school on Monday. She’s a senior,” Brooke said. “I thought maybe you could show her around? Keep her out of trouble.”

  “Right, like so much trouble happens at the Mill,” Tabitha said. The smile she flashed January was much friendlier. “Hey, I’m Tabitha, but you can call me Tabby.” She slid in the booth next to January and pushed her over. Tabitha had an open, friendly face and a small smattering of freckles across her upturned nose.

  Her soft brown hair was pulled into two short little braids and decorated with rhinestone encrusted barrettes.

  January liked her immediately.

  “I’m January Zielinski. This is my dad. Zachary.”

  Zach nodded in greeting and hid a smile behind his coffee cup as Tabby took over the conversation. “We don’t get a lot of new kids in town,” she began. “You’re bound to cause a lot of fuss on Monday. Where are you staying? I can pick you up Monday morning if you want, but I have rehearsal after school. You can either take the bus or wait for me and I’ll drive you home.”

  “That sounds great,” January said. She turned to her dad. “Is that okay with you, Dad?”

  His grey eyes full of amusement, Zach only nodded.

  Tabitha continued to sit with them, despite several dirty looks by her older sister. As they got up to pay the check, January couldn’t remember them ever having had such a fun dinner.

  “You’ve got a little kick in your giddyap,” Zach said as they walked back to the old truck.

  January thought about it for a moment and smiled. “We’re going to be fine here, Dad. I feel it in my bones.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Farm life started early, and life on the Farraday Horse Farm was no different. Long before it was light, January heard her father in their small kitchenette making coffee and getting ready to leave for work. The paper-thin walls left no sound unheard. Guilt rode her that she slept in the single bedroom of their small apartment while her dad slept on an ancient pullout couch in their living room. It was an arrangement he insisted on and she had let ride.

  After he left, she groaned and got up to get ready for her first day at a new school. Not that there wasn’t much to do, really. Her wardrobe was pretty meager and she didn’t wear much makeup.


  She still had more than an hour until Tabby’s promised pick up time but there was no point staying in the uncomfortable bed any longer. But even getting ready didn’t take that long — a quick shower, a visit with a hair dryer, and then a clean shirt and some jeans.

  Their suite of rooms on the horse farm was utilitarian at best, she thought with a wistful smile. All the cleaner and bleach in the world wasn’t going to turn worn linoleum new. No amount of elbow grease was going to erase the grime of use and wear from the room.

  In her experience, at any rate, the live-in rooms provided by horse farms weren’t exactly five-star accommodations.

  Unwilling to stay in the dismal little room longer than necessary, January laced up her sneakers and grabbed her jacket. The barn would be a better distraction than staring at the four drab walls of their new home.

  She opened the door to find Tabby on her stoop. “Oh,” she said, startled by her appearance. “I was going to wait for you by the gate. How did you figure which one of the apartments was mine?”

  Tabby flushed and her eyes seemed to shine a brighter shade of blue. But, that was impossible, right? People’s eyes didn’t actually change color like that, did they?

  “I forgot that I had a yearbook meeting this morning,” Tabby said. “I figured I’d see if we could go in early. Is that okay with you?”

  January shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fine. I can stop by the office and get my schedule and stuff.”

  “Do you ride, too?” Tabby asked after they got on the road heading to the high school.

  “Yeah, it’s part of the life,” January said with a shrug. “I’ve never had my own horse or anything, but I’ve been riding with my dad since before I could walk. My mom use to have pictures of us but…” January shrugged again. “I’m not sure where they are anymore.”

  Tension grew in the front seat and for a moment January was sure Tabby would never want to talk to her again.

  “Did your mom die?” Tabby asked.

  “Yeah. About four years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tabby’s words were simple. Unadorned. And yet full of peace and understanding. She didn’t push for details.

  As a girl who had spent too much time alone and too much time being pitied by others, Tabby’s forthright and plainspoken speech was refreshing. It meant the world to January that she didn’t use it as some kind of orphan-porn to make her own life seem rich in comparison. Right then and there, she decided that Tabby Evans was going to be her best friend in Harper’s Mill. Maybe her best friend ever.

  “Your apartment seems nice,” Tabby said.

  January snorted with laughter. “We’ve lived in worse places, but I was actually hoping you’d want to help me with a project?”

  “Sure. I love a project. Especially if it gets me out of working at the diner.”

  “I want to decorate our apartment,” January said to her brand new bubbly friend. “A fresh coat of paint and convince my dad to spend some money on beds. Maybe even a real kitchen table.”

  “Oooh. Sounds like fun. My sister and her husband still have a lot of duplicate furniture PM,” Tabby said.

  “PM?”

  “Yeah, pre-marriage. They both had their own houses before they got married. They got rid of some of it, but I know they still have a lot. Let me send her a text later and we can go ‘shopping’ in her basement.”

  “Oh, that would be awesome. Is there a paint store in town? Maybe put a coat of fresh paint on the walls. Hang a few pictures. I don’t know, I want to make Harper’s Mill home.”

  Tabby’s eyes seemed to glow that strange bright blue again before she said. “If you want to make it your home, we’ll get it done.”

  January settled into the seat and refused to look back. She didn’t live there anymore. Harper’s Mill was going to be her future.

  <<<>>>

  After getting her schedule, January decided to reconnoiter the small high school and find out where her classes were.

  So, it really wasn’t her fault that when she found the door to her first period cooking class unlocked, she went in.

  And it really wasn’t her fault that she snooped in the cabinets, looking to see what kind of equipment each kitchen had.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  January screamed and dropped the tempered glass plate she was holding. She and the boy who had interrupted her watched in stunned horror as it seemed to hover in the air like a cartoon coyote before plunging to its demise on the tile floor.

  “You scared me,” she said. “Look what you made me do!”

  Hot embarrassment flooded her cheeks as she glared at the boy who had snuck up on her and shocked her to the point of making her drop the plate. Because damn, he was cute. He had an all-American crew cut and that emphasized the exquisite line of his jaw. Pale green eyes watched her and January felt her embarrassment grow in correlation to her attraction to the boy in front of her.

  “I’m sorry,” he stuttered out. “I’m Kel. Kel Parker,” he said, introducing himself. “I think Miss H keeps the cleaning supplies through here. Maybe we can clean it up without anyone noticing.”

  “Oh, could we? I don’t want to get in trouble on my first day,” January said. “I’m January Zielinski.”

  “Nice to meet you, January.”

  “Is it? I mean. You don’t even know me.”

  Kel’s soft green eyes gleamed with humor. “I always say what I mean,” he said.

  January stared after him with a confused smile on her face. Like Tabby’s glowing blue eyes, everyone she met seemed to have secrets.

  The door opened and they both turned towards it in cautious expectation. “Yo, Kel, what’s going on? Whadidja’ break?”

  “Hey, Mickey,” Kel said. “No, I didn’t break anything. January dropped a plate.” He turned to January. “This is my friend Mickey. Mickey, this is January Zielinski. She’s new.”

  “Hey,” Mickey said with a wave. He took in the scene with a lightning fast glance. “We need to get this cleaned up,” he said. “Miss H is in the teacher’s lounge but I’m sure she’ll be on her way here soon.” Working in tandem, January knelt with the whisk while Kel swept the mess.

  “She’s gonna see it in the garbage can,” Mickey said.

  “Is Miss Harris a tough teacher?” January asked, feeling apprehension clench her stomach and reminding her she left the house without grabbing any food.

  Kel shrugged. “She’s a bitch.”

  Mickey sighed and rolled his eyes. “Dude,” he scolded. “You gotta’ stop that.” Kel simply shrugged. The boys exchanged a meaningful look before looking back into the trash can.

  “She’s going to see it,” Mickey repeated.

  “I know but do you have a better idea?”

  “Not really.”

  The first bell rang and Mickey ran off with a wave. “Good luck,” he said. “See ya’ at lunch.”

  Kel nodded, his brow furrowed with worry. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Maybe she’ll think someone else did it.”

  “I can just tell her it was me,” January said. “I’ll take full blame.”

  “You don’t want a detention your first day at school, do you?”

  “No, not really.” She wasn’t going to cry but damn it, she wanted to make a good impression in her newest and last school.

  Kel glanced up at the clock and swore. “We’re out of time. C’mere.” He took her hand in his and hid behind the open door of the classroom. Kids entered, chatting and after the first wave, they seamlessly merged with the crowd.

  “Hey, Parker, I didn’t see you at the grocery store this weekend. Did you call off?”

  Kel frowned and ignored the comment. He took at seat, leaving January adrift in a sea of unknown faces.

  The boy in the leather jacket smirked. “C’mon, Parker. Why didn’t I see you?”

  “Because you’re always a jerk to me when you come by the store,” Kel said with a resigned sigh. “I hid.”

  “You kno
w I’ll only ask your dad where you are next time,” the boy said as his friends all laughed at his antics.

  January frowned at the small interchange. There were undercurrents between these two. This wasn’t the normal “hey, you’re a new kid so you don’t know what people are talking about.” There was history between Kel and Leather Jacket.

  Miss Harris entered the class and January gulped as she understood what Mickey and Kel had tried to explain. If the Hell’s Angels and Martha Stewart had combined their DNA in a military grade lab, the results would be Miss Harris. She was well over six feet tall with broad shoulders, a commanding stride, and a strict blond bob. Her brown eyes were suspicious as she removed her studded leather jacket and gloves.

  “Hi,” January said, her eyes a little panicky as though this woman with the shrewd brown eyes could see into her very soul and calculate her every thought. “I’m January Zielinski. New kid.” She offered the paper the office gave her and Miss Harris took it out of her hands as though it were a poisoned offering.

  “I’m Miss Harris,” the older woman said. “Have you had any cooking experience, Miss…” She stumbled as she looked at the slip in her hand for verification. “Miss Zielinski?”

  “I cook at home,” January said. “You know, for my family.”

  “Did your mother teach you?”

  January felt a flush of humiliation wash over her as she stood in front of the class. On display. “My mother passed away several years ago,” January said softly, looking down at her shoes.

  Miss Harris grunted and January looked up at her. For a moment, compassion flashed across her tough features but it was there and gone so fast, January couldn’t be sure. “Take a seat, Miss Zielinski,” she said, handing the schedule back to her. “There’s a spot next to Mr. Parker.”

  January nodded and slipped quietly into the seat next to Kel.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “My mom took off on my dad when I was three. It sucks.”

  January nodded and felt her eyes fill with tears. What was worse? To have a mom who loved you and died? Or a mom who didn’t care enough and left you?

  Class was almost over before Miss Harris noticed the broken bits of plate in her trashcan. “What’s this?” she demanded, her voice booming and echoing against the small lecture area.