Read Online Witch Cradle by Kathleen Hills - Free Book Online Page A

short winter afternoons playing on the floor, building houses with the scraps from his work; watching the patterns and colors of the wood appear as if by magic from under his cloth: the golden swirls in the oak, the deep red rivers of the mahogany. The room had held its own distinctive aroma then. The smells of his mysterious waxes had permeated the house and still trickled through Mia’s dreams. But when Charlotte Vogel died, her husband had moved the wardrobe and the creaky iron bed into this room, and Mia had seldom entered it again.
    And she’d hardly entered it since his own death. Four years without the touch of a dustcloth or soap and water is a long time, and the present-day aroma was not blended of shellac and carnauba wax. She’d better get used to it; she wouldn’t be climbing stairs for a while. It might not be long before Nick, too, would be confined to the main floor. A silver lining—her accident gave an excuse to get this room ready for him.
    She wriggled into as near a sitting position as she could manage.
Manage
. How was she going to manage? There was no point in thinking about it. She simply wasn’t going to manage, not for a while. It would be all up to Nick now—water, firewood, cooking, washing, ironing. Ironing? That would never happen. Mia had been contemplating—shuddering at—the prospect of taking over Nick’s chores, not passing more onto him. She’d taken the car out a few times before the snow fell, trying to prepare for the time when Nick could no longer drive. That was out of the question now. He’d just have to keep on a while longer. And kill himself, most likely. He’d come close enough a few times already, and that was back when he was supposedly healthy. Guibard said she’d have the cast on for about six weeks. You couldn’t starve to death in six weeks. For the first time in her life, Mia wished she’d been more ambitious when it came to putting up vegetables. And she also couldn’t help feeling a bit cheated. When this chance to be coddled had at last come her way, she had nobody to do the coddling.
    She gave a mighty shove to hitch herself up a little farther. One of the slats holding the bed spring hit the floor with a crack. Nick’s footsteps sounded on the living room linoleum.
    â€œYou awake, Meggie?” He stood in the doorway. “I thought Guibard gave you enough to knock you out for a week.”
    â€œNo such luck,” Mia said. “The bed’s broke.”
    Nick sank to his knees and peered under. “God!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIt’s pretty dusty under there.”
    â€œForget that. I’ll try to move so you can put the slat back in before the whole bed goes down.”
    â€œHere.” Nick grasped her legs and eased her around to a sideways position. “Just sit tight.”
    He slid under the bed. “Whatever you do, don’t make any sudden moves.” His words were followed by a twanging of springs and a scraping of wood. “Don’t make any moves at all.” After a few seconds he emerged, dust-covered but smiling. He sucked in his breath but got to his feet without struggle. “That should hold for a while. We can bring the big bed downstairs. I’ll get Touminen to help.” He swung her legs back onto the bed. “Don’t bounce around too much.”
    â€œI don’t plan to do much bouncing for the foreseeable future.”
    â€œYou want some coffee?”
    Had Nick ever in his life made coffee? If he had, Mia didn’t remember.
    He plucked a curl of dust from his neck. “Did it hurt a lot?”
    It still hurt a lot. “Not too much,” she told him.
    â€œLeonie McIntire came over to see how you were. She cooked me some breakfast. She insisted on breakfast even though it was past noon.”
    â€œOh, please Nick! Don’t let her in here! Tell her I’m still sleeping. Tell her I’m