Texas Gothic - By Rosemary Clement-Moore Page 0,112

the dig.” It seemed so long ago, so much had happened since Daisy had channeled the ghost’s warning.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, like he was trying to rub off the fatigue and emotion of those intervening hours. “I don’t know what I saw anymore.”

I should have guessed that without Phin there, his acceptance would unravel. I could see the thread, but I couldn’t catch it, and I didn’t have the power to knit it back together, except with my words.

“You saw what you saw, Ben McCulloch. If you can’t believe me, why can’t you at least trust me?”

“Because all I can see is my grandfather lying in a ravine telling me that a flipping ghost knocked him down there.” He swept a hand toward the drop-off, but encompassed the entire breadth of our relationship. “You talked to Granddad Mac about the ghost, and then he went wandering off to find it!”

I didn’t need help feeling guilty for that. “Do you really think he hadn’t heard the rumors from anyone else? His memory is shot, not his ears.”

“So now you’re telling me how to handle my own family?”

“No!” The protest burst out of me, and I wanted to burst, too, the pressure was so strong in my chest. Beside me, Lila whined, and I lowered my voice because I knew people would be straining to hear. “How did you even get that? Could we please stick to my actual offenses? Which, as far as I can tell, are simply, A, existing and, B, treading on your hallowed domain.”

“It’s about you existing in complete chaos and bringing that here. When I’m around you,” he said, sounding as miserable and frustrated as he did angry, “I get caught up in you and your crazy world. I can’t handle that. I just want to go back to a time when I didn’t know that people could see ghosts or find people with magic or make me forget my responsibilities in the cab of my pickup truck.”

I blushed, certain every one of the search party had heard that last part. “That wasn’t magic,” I murmured, low and hurt. “That was just you and me.”

He sighed. “It was, Amy, because you’re you. You’re the most dangerous one of all, because people can’t see you coming. They just think you’re this quirky, nosy, annoying, adorable girl who yells at cows in her underwear. Then before they know it, they’re relying on spells instead of good sense.”

His words cut my heart. They stabbed at the weakest part—the stitched-together edges of my divided life.

“That’s a lousy thing to say, Ben McCulloch.” I hated the catch in my voice and I hated him for putting it there, and I hated myself for letting him. “You’re just as bad for making me think you’re a sweet, stand-up guy who takes care of his family, when you’re just an uptight jerk trying to control every facet of his life. Well, you can’t. Life is too full of crazy things that don’t fit in neat boxes.”

Before I could waver, I grabbed Lila’s harness to go. “But at least you’ll have one less crazy thing in yours. Have a nice one.”

Then I marched past him to find my own ride home. For the first time ever, I’d managed a great parting line and a grand exit. And it still felt like crap.

36

deputy Kelly drove Lila and me back to Goodnight Farm in tactful silence. I unkindly suspected that he was glad to see a McCulloch get dumped—though only on the technicality of my being the one who walked away. Which I wouldn’t have done if I hadn’t been pushed.

“Quite an adventure,” the deputy finally said. His first name must be Obvious.

I stared out the window, stroking the dog’s soft fur. “I’m just glad Lila was able to help find Mr. McCulloch.”

“Yeah. I’ve worked with Ms. Hyacinth a time or two when someone goes missing in the hills or out on the river. You Goodnights are real good at finding things.”

“So I’ve heard.” The sun was coming up. It didn’t seem possible how much had happened between dusk and dawn.

“Too bad what you find is usually trouble.”

That got my attention.

The deputy pulled in at the Goodnight Farm gate, put the Blazer in park, and regarded me with his beady wolverine eyes. “I’m getting really tired of hearing your name attached to wild rumors and factual reports, Miss Amy.”

The old-fashioned address didn’t sound strange at all coming from him. He wanted me to think