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Prophecy (Soul of the Witch Book 2) by C. Marie Bowen (34)

Bayard James

Bay reined to a stop in front of the Highlands’ barn and dismounted.

Lloyd and Tom stepped from the shade to greet him.

“Got an early start, I see.” Lloyd took the reins from Bayard.

“Up and out before breakfast is no way to live.” Bay chuckled and pulled off his gloves.

“Cookie will see you right with breakfast,” Lloyd spoke over his shoulder as he led the mount into the barn. “They’re waiting for you inside.”

Bayard nodded to Tom. “How's the leg?”

“Better than it should be. Pa said he thought I’d lose it.” Tom reset his hat and hooked his thumbs into his belt. “I want to thank you for savin’ my leg, and maybe my life.”

“Oh no, not I, my friend. My nieces—Alyse and Amy. Their talents far exceed mine.” Bayard grinned at Tom, then chuckled and pointed his thumb toward the house. “Is Merril inside?”

Tom shook his head. “No. He and his guests, Sam and Catherine, rode out to check on the cattle at the branding site.” Tom looked over his shoulder into the barn and took a step backward. “Merril said they’d be back around noon.”

Bayard tipped his hat to Tom and crossed the yard to the house. He paused at the open front door and looked in. The entry and dining room were empty. He walked in and approached the table.

White cloth circles, about 6 inches in diameter, with drawstrings already woven through holes around the outside edge filled the table. The serving table held bowls filled with pine needles, cloves, bay leaves, and witch hazel. A large pan of river stones set at the end with an artist’s small brush and an inkwell.

Bayard pulled his hat from his head and scratched his brow. Everything on the list. Amazing.

Cookie entered the dining room from the kitchen with a large bowl in her hands. She gasped at the sight of Bayard. “My lands, Mr. James, you scared the life out of me.” She set the bowl of marigold heads beside the pine needles and put her hand to her bosom.

“I apologize, Miss Cookie. I saw the open door, so I came inside. I should have called out.” Bayard gave the cook a small bow. He removed his hat, hooked it on the rack by the door, and returned to the table.

“You collected marigolds.” He pointed to the flower-filled bowl.

Cookie sniffed and raised her chin. “Marigolds keep pests from the garden. I thought they might keep pests from the house, as well.”

“I wonder why I didn’t think of this. You’re a marvel, Miss Cookie. This should take no time at all.”

“We have something else to add as well, if you think it would be all right.” Cookie waved her hand for Jeanne to approach.

Jeanne held a large flat tray at the kitchen opening. On it were small crucifixes and crosses from necklaces, rosaries and bracelet charms. Most made from inexpensive tin and pot metal, but some appeared quite valuable.

“I'm speechless, ladies.” Bayard held out both hands to the room and the women. “You’ve exceeded all expectations.”

“I told you it would be fine,” Cookie said to Jeanne.

Jeanne placed the tray of crosses at the end of the serving table and stepped back.

“More than ‘just fine’,” Bayard declared. “It’s exactly what we needed.”

Henny entered the dining room through the kitchen with Katy at her side. “We would like to help,” she said.

“And I have just the job for you.” Bayard picked up the pan of small rocks—smooth, rounded river stones, about the size of a penny, cleansed of sand and dirt. He handed the pan to Henny. He unstopped the inkwell and then took a stone from the bowl. Dipping the tip of the brush into the ink, he quickly drew a symbol on the rock. It looked like the letter Y with a small line extended between the open branches at the top. He showed the symbol on the stone to Katy.

“Can you paint this symbol on each stone? Be sure the ink is dry before you put it back into the bowl.”

“Yes, sir.” Katy gave Bayard her shy smile and took the stone. “What does that letter mean?”

“It’s a protection rune,” Bayard told Katy. “It’s been used for many years to help keep people safe.”

“Is it the symbol they painted on the doors in Egypt to make the Angel of Death pass in the night?” Katy asked, eyes wide.

“I don't know,” Bayard said honestly. “Perhaps so. This rune is an ancient symbol.”

Henny nodded to her daughter as she crossed the room to the front porch, carrying the pan of stones. “Come along, Katy.”

Katy grabbed the inkwell and brush and followed her mother outside.

“What about us?” Jeanne asked

“We can fill the satchels. How many cloth circles do we have?” He nodded to the stack of cloth cutouts sitting on a chair beside the kitchen door.

“We made over a hundred circles. Will there be enough?” Cookie asked.

“Possibly.” Bayard looked from the table to the stack on the chair. “How many openings in the ranch house?”

“Forty, if we include the fireplaces. There are less for the barn and bunkhouses, but we thought you would need these for The Shilo as well, so we doubled the number.”

“Miss Cookie, you are as thoughtful as you are resourceful. I will certainly be able to use most of these, if not all of them.”

Cookie’s plump cheeks flushed with pride at his compliment, and she patted her gray hair. “Thank you, Mr. James. Thank you.”

“Let's get started.” Bayard rubbed his hands together and picked up the first satchel. He tightened the draw string part way to form a cup. He stepped to the serving table and took a pinch of pine needles. “Put a pinch of everything on the table in the satchel.” He glanced over his shoulder. “If you have a favorite prayer, you should say it while you add the ingredients.” Bayard took a pinch of aromatic cloves.

“Even if it is a Christian prayer?” Jeanne tightened the string on her satchel and followed Bayard at the table.

“Most certainly,” Bayard added a sprinkling of bay leaves and witch hazel petals.

Jeanne added a pinch of pine needles and said, “Our Father, Who art in heaven—”

Bayard picked up one of the small metal crosses and dropped it into the satchel. “The larger crosses would work better attached to the outside of the satchels. They’re far too beautiful to hide away. Put the smaller ones inside.”

Katy came inside with her apron full of tiny rune stones, still warm from the sun and stopped before Bayard.

He selected one, placed it in his satchel, and then drew the string tight and knotted it.

Katy emptied her apron on a chair at the end of the serving table.

“Katy, could you find a large serving tray for us?” Bernard asked.

With a nod, the girl disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with a large metal platter.

“Perfect,” Bayard proclaimed. He set his knotted satchel on the tray. “If you could put the tray on the parlor table, I would certainly appreciate it.

Katy set the tray on the table and hurried outside.

Cookie filled her satchel, reciting Psalms, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want—”

Bernard picked up another satchel, tightened it and began the circle again. “Lord and Lady, be welcome in this home—”

It took an hour to fill the satchels. Once Bayard had knotted the last white bag, he went to the barn and asked Tom for small nails and hammers, so they could hang the satchels.

Soon, Lloyd, Tom, and Kelly were in the house nailing satchels above each door and window. Cookie reminded them each hearth would require one too, and they devised a way to hang them from the wooden mantels.

While the men hung satchels, Bay took the ladies outside to collect white sage leaves to make smudges. They made three, one each for Cookie, Jeanne, and Lawna.

After a quick walk-through to be sure each satchel was in place, Bay sent the men to hang satchels in the barn and the bunkhouse. He reminded them to keep all the animals inside the barn and to give some thought as to how they would be housed, fed and watered.

Beginning at sundown tonight, and through the day tomorrow, all people and animals would need to remain inside the protection of the buildings.

After the men left the house, Bayard lit a candle on the dining room table and instructed the ladies on smudging. He held his bundle of sage to the candle until it caught fire. “Extinguish the flame from your smudge, leaving the ember at the end to smoke.” He blew out the flame, and a curl of fragrant smoke lifted toward the ceiling.

“We will pass through the home and pray for protection at each window or opening where we have placed a satchel.” He stood before the front door and etched the rune of protection in the air. “Any symbol which provides both strength and comfort will suffice.” He looked over his shoulder and smiled at the women. “If not my rune, then perhaps the sign of the cross—and recite your prayer.”

Cookie and Lawna began their circuit, but Jeanne waited until the other women had left the room.

“You wanted to ask me something?” Bay inquired softly, aware of Jeanne's hesitation.

Jeanne bit her lip, then looked up at Bayard. “This protection ritual feels like witchcraft, yet you let us participate. We aren't witches. I didn't think you would let us use the crosses, but you did. You encouraged us to pray to our God.” Jeanne blushed and hung her head. “I'm confused.”

Bayard leaned against the table and pressed his lips. These people had been helpful and open.

She deserves an honest answer.

He tipped his head and looked at Jeanne. “The magic in the satchels has been put there by each of us. Everyone who helped make them or hang them has put their faith into them. Your belief that God heard your prayers strengthens the protection.”

He sniffed the air and smiled at Jeanne. “You can smell it. You can see it.” He indicated the satchel above the door and the smoke hanging low in the room from the smudges. “If you close your eyes and open your heart, can you not feel it?”

Jeanne closed her eyes, sniffed and sighed, then looked at Bayard and said, “No. Not really.”

Bay laughed at her honesty. “That’s all right Miss Jeanne. I assure you, no evil would dare cross this threshold. I believe this is the most secure house I’ve ever known.” He indicated her smudge. “Would you check on Tom and Lloyd? If they’ve finished in the barn, your prayers will help protect the animals they shelter there.”

Once Cookie and Lawna finished smudging the house, Lawna left to check on Hope-Anne, who napped in the family bunk. Cookie returned to the kitchen to attend to dinner.

Bayard walked through the house. He touched each satchel and added an extra prayer to the God and Goddess to protect such good people and to allow the evil to pass their door, just as Katy had said.

He paused in the kitchen and exchanged one of Cookie’s fluffy biscuits for a smile and a wink, then headed for the barn.

As he crossed the yard, Merril, Sam, and Cat rode in and dismounted.

Lloyd stepped from the barn, greeted them, and gathered the horses’ reins.

“Mr. James,” Merril said, and shook Bayard's hand.

“Call me Bayard or Bay, please.” Bayard grinned and released Merril’s hand.

“Is everything secure then? Are you prepared to meet this demon?” Sam asked

With an easy smile, Bay nodded at Sam and his sister. “I think so. If the demon comes here, he’ll find the buildings secured against him. I believe he’ll pass this ranch and move to his targets, which are my nieces.” Bay turned from Sam to Merril. “Your wife asked me to tell you they will return here this afternoon. After supper, they’ll go back to The Shilo. We expect the demon to find us sometime tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“What is the demon waiting for?” Cat asked, pulling her riding gloves from her hands.

“It apparently travels distance in much the same way we do.” Bay tipped his head to acknowledge Catherine. “We came to that realization after Amy told us of the animal possessions. At the time she had the vision, she saw the demon a day and a half behind us.”

“Does this thing track you by scent?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know.” Bay shook his head.

“What type of power does it have?” Cat asked.

“I’m not sure. Possession is all we’ve seen.”

“For a demon hunter, you’re critically short on information,” Sam commented.

Bayard drew on his deep well of patience and gifted Sam with a pleasant smile. “In this instance, sir, we are most certainly not the hunter, but the hunted. None of us have faced a demon.” He shrugged. “We can only prepare as best we know how, and try to keep the people here as safe as possible once the contest has begun. Please, excuse me.” Bayard touched his hat and continued on his way to check the preparations in the barn. He heard their voices as he walked away.

“Sam, you’re rude,” Cat told her brother.

“They don't know what they’re facing,” Sam replied.

Merril responded, “And yet, he’s here to make sure these people, who he doesn't know, are safe, rather than with his family at The Shilo, preparing to defend their lives. I don’t know about you, but he gets the benefit of my doubt.”

Bayard entered the barn, and the voices were lost.

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