Chapter 12
“I can’t believe you met a ghost who used to work in Storyville,” Harlow said as she and Dahlia took seats at the bar inside the Keating Hollow Brewery.
“Talk about a fun encounter. Mine are almost never like that. It’s usually some disgruntled butthead who is causing havoc due to past grievances or sheer boredom. ”
“I’ve met a few who have never accepted their new existence,” Dahlia said. “But it doesn’t happen often. I’m not sure why. Maybe I’m just lucky.”
“Or protected,” Harlow mused.
“How so?” Dahlia turned to her, a little confused. “You mean as in someone cast a spell to keep me protected?”
“Maybe. Or someone in the afterlife is looking over you. I’ve seen it happen before.”
Dahlia relaxed and nodded. “You know, you just might be right. My fairy godmother passed a couple years back, and I’m pretty sure she’d keep any baddies away from me.”
The bartender handed them menus and then placed two waters in front of them.
“Thanks,” Harlow said before turning her attention back to Dahlia. “Have you talked to her since she passed?”
“All the time. I have her journal. We communicate through it.” Normally Dahlia didn’t tell many people about Gwynn.
If they weren’t witches, they often thought she was crazy.
And if they were, then the twenty questions started.
It wasn’t unusual for them to ask to see it, so they could study it, try to figure out how it worked, and in general figure out how they could get one to talk to their own loved ones who’d passed.
But Dahlia didn’t have those answers. Gwynn had left it to her, and one day when she’d opened it, the words just appeared.
Besides, the journal was one of her most prized possessions.
She didn’t want other people handling it. So telling Harlow was a leap of faith.
Harlow’s eyes flashed with interest, and Dahlia braced herself for the twenty questions. But when Harlow spoke, she just said, “That’s amazing. I’m always surprised by the different ways spirits find to communicate with us.”
Dahlia felt the tension fade from her shoulders as she nodded.
“What can I get you, ladies?” Rhys Silver asked, smiling kindly at them from the other side of the bar. He was the assistant manager Dahlia had met a few days ago when she’d come in to pick up an order.
“Rhys,” Harlow said, eyeing him with suspicion. “What are you doing taking orders? Don’t you have some ciders to brew?”
“We just finished mixing the new batches last week,” he said. “So I have some time to fill in. And since we’re still a little shorthanded while Sadie’s touring with King, here I am. Can I get you something other than water?”
“I’d love to try a cider. Whatever’s on tap,” Dahlia said. Since the office was only open half a day on Saturday, they were free to have a libation or two.
“That sounds good,” Harlow said. “Get me one, too. And a cheddar burger with curly fries.”
“What about you, Dahlia? What would you like for lunch?” he asked as he started filling a glass from the tap.
“The same but with sweet potato fries, please,” she said, her stomach growling with anticipation. She hadn’t eaten anything but a Pop-Tart that morning before she’d gone into the office. She’d been too nervous about her first day for anything more substantial. But now? She was ready to chow down.
“You got it.” Rhys plunked the apple ciders down in front of them and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Oh my gods, this stuff is good,” Harlow said after she took her first sip. “I want to bathe in this.”
Dahlia chuckled. “A cider soak. Sounds like a spa treatment that some fancy place would charge a fortune for and then tell you something like ‘it purifies your pores.’”
Harlow sputtered on her next sip. Then she laughed harder as she tried to mop up her mess. “We’ll have to ask Faith if she plans on offering it as an option.”
“Faith?” Dahlia raised one eyebrow in question.
“Faith Townsend. There are five Townsend sisters who live and work in this town. Faith owns A Touch of Magic, the day spa. Her sister Hope works there, too. Abby has a potions and lotions business, Noel runs the inn, and Yvette owns the bookstore.”
“Yvette… Isn’t she the fire witch who put out the fire down by the river the other day?” Dahlia asked, not sure why she felt so apprehensive. Was she worried that Yvette thought Dutton was guilty?
“That’s the one. She’s also part of the volunteer fire department.” Harlow took another swig of cider. “Dang, that’s better than I remember.”
“That’s because it’s a new batch. One of my finest, if I do say so myself,” Rhys said, making a show of polishing his nails on his Keating Hollow Brewery T-shirt.
“So modest,” Harlow mocked. “But you’re right. It is one of the finest. I’m gonna need to take a growler of this home. And one of the amber for Cash. He’ll never forgive me if I leave him out.”
Dahlia felt a wave of wistfulness wash over her.
She’d thought she was close to having a relationship like Harlow and Cash’s.
But then she realized her fiancé was clearly still in love with the woman he’d called his ‘best friend,’ and she’d called it off right before she’d walked down the aisle.
She should have known earlier. The last straw should have come long before she’d overheard Myles asking Blossom if she thought he was doing the right thing by marrying Dahlia.
What kind of man asked his ex-girlfriend that on his wedding day?
Then when Blossom hesitated and said that she couldn’t answer that question and broke down crying, Myles had hugged her and kissed her cheeks.
And then when he kissed her lips, it had turned into the kind of passionate kiss that Dahlia had never experienced with Myles.
After witnessing that, she ran, even though Myles had tried to stop her.
That’s when she met Dutton.
A small smile claimed her lips as she thought of the night he’d helped her escape in the horseless carriage. A true hero, that one.
“What are you smiling about?” Harlow asked, eyeing her.
“Nothing, just… the appointment today,” she lied.
Dahlia wasn’t one for girl talk. Or at least she hadn’t been in the past. Suddenly she wondered what it would be like to open up to a girlfriend instead of just Gwynn.
“Actually,” she blurted, “I was thinking about Dutton Williams and the night he helped me flee my wedding.”
“Oh, goodness. That story is legend,” Harlow said. “That was the talk of the town for an entire month.”
Dahlia grimaced. “It was?” She glanced around, wondering how many people remembered and if they were judging her for it.
“Yep.” Harlow held her glass up for a toast. “Epic move. And that fiancé of yours… I heard he got the cold shoulder at Incantation Café the next morning and was all but run out of town.”
“Why?” Dahlia asked, genuinely confused. No one in town had known her at that point. Not really. She’d been there before, visiting Gwynn of course, but it wasn’t like she’d spent a significant amount of time there and knew the residents.
“Are you kidding? Gwynn used to talk about you all the time. Lots of people here didn’t take kindly to that asshat for doing what he did.
Hanna Pelsh owns Incantation Café, and since the wedding was at the Pelsh winery, she knew all the details and the story spread quickly. I doubt he ever comes back here.”
Dahlia snorted. “No. He won’t. Especially since he knows I moved here. Not that I told him, but he heard about it anyway and called to wish me luck. I hung up on him.”
“As one should,” Harlow said with a nod.
Their burgers arrived, and when Dahlia bit into hers, she was certain she’d died and gone to heaven. Whoever was in charge of the kitchen deserved a raise. She and Harlow chatted about the Harvest Festival while they ate, and then Harlow invited her over for a barbecue the next weekend.
“I’d love to,” Dahlia said. “Can I… um, bring a date?” The words just slipped out before she had a chance to even think them through. Was it rude to ask to invite someone?
“Dutton?” Harlow asked, her eyes glinting with amusement.
“Of course. I’m a date-one-man-at-a-time kind of girl.” She might as well own it, since she’d already asked if she could bring someone.
“Yes, but he’s already been invited,” Harlow said. “Cash spends a lot of time with him and his brother, Briggs.”
“Oh, well then, maybe we can ride together.” Dahlia turned her attention to her sweet potato fries, feeling a little foolish even though she knew she shouldn’t.
There was nothing wrong with dating Dutton.
She just didn’t like talking about her private life with other people, especially when it was so new.
Not that Harlow was pressing her for information. She just felt… exposed.
“Anything else, ladies?” Rhys asked. “Besides the growlers?”
“Not for me. I couldn’t manage one more bite,” Dahlia said.
“Same.” Harlow pulled out her credit card. “Lunch is on me.”
“What? No. I was only joking about you buying—” Dahlia started.
“No arguing,” Harlow said. “Consider it a welcome to the business. And my thanks for entertaining me today.”
“I’ll get lunch next time,” Dahlia said, not wanting to take advantage of Harlow’s generosity.
“Deal.”
Rhys set the growlers on the bar and then ran her credit card.
Dahlia was just getting to her feet when a loud boom suddenly seemed to shake the entire building. She instinctively ducked, while Harlow let out a loud gasp.
“What the hell was that?” Rhys cried as he ran into the back of the restaurant.
“The old brew shed is on fire!” someone from the kitchen shouted.
“Brew shed?” Dahlia asked as if Harlow would know anything about it.
“Come on,” Harlow tugged Dahlia out of the restaurant and then started jogging around the side of the building where smoke was billowing into the air. She already had her phone out and was calling 911.
Once she told the operator there was a fire at the brewery, she ended the call and rounded the corner to the back of the building.