Witch Way or the Highway: Silver Sisters, #0

By Jennifer L. Hart

A homeless single mother is on a collision course with destiny.

 

Laney is at the end of her rope. Homeless with three young girls in the mountains of North Carolina, all she wants is to keep her family together. But no one will give her and her girls a chance. Not until the mysterious Jess covers for her with the local sheriff.

 

But there's more to Jess than meets the eye. The woman lives in a haunted cottage, dabbles in horticulture, and talks about magic like it's real, not just a story to entertain children. And then there's the mysterious ghost who only Laney and her middle daughter can see.

 

Has this displaced woman found a home? Or will the odd circumstances cost Laney her girls and perhaps her life?

 

Witch Way or the Highway is the prequel story to the Silver Sisters midlife magic series. If you like heroines over forty, stories of sisterhood, and forever love, then you don't want to miss Jennifer L. Hart's fantastic tale. Read Witch Way or the Highway and conjure your coven now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elements Unleashed
• Release date: Oct 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781951215996

Jennifer L. Hart

Jennifer L Hart knows that surviving as military spouse takes persistence, comfort food and a stellar sense of humor. Her books often focus on people who've lived the military lifestyle and zany antics of neurotic heroines, who like to eat, drink and have fun. Her works include the Misadventures of the Laundry Hag mystery series, the Damaged Goods mystery series and Murder Al Dente, coming soon from Gemma Halliday Presents.  

Book preview

1

ONE WEEK BEFORE HALLOWEEN

M om? a little voice asked from the back seat. Are we going to see Daddy?

With the heel of my hand, I scrubbed away my tears so my eldest wouldn’t spot them in the rearview mirror. Don’t wake up your sisters, Alys.

The three girls were crammed into the back of our POS station wagon with all their stuff like sardines in a can. All the possessions we had in the world were tucked around them. Way too much and nowhere near enough.

Sibby was slumped in her car seat, a string of drool trailing from her rosebud mouth. Beside her, Maeve’s head was tossed back and she was snoring slightly. But Alys’s sharp blue eyes were alert.

And maybe just a little bit weary.

The urge to apologize to her was lodged in my throat. I’m sorry I didn’t pick a better daddy for you. I’m sorry he abandoned us with a mountain of debt and no money to pay it. I’m sorry I’m so worthless that I can’t keep a roof over our heads for more than a week at a time. I’m sorry you got stuck with me as a mother.

Life shouldn’t be like this. By forty a woman was supposed to have her crap together. A home for her daughters. A devoted husband. Bring home the bacon and fry it up as the commercial said.

Ignoring the question about her father I strove for a light tone. We’re going to our new home. Just as soon as I found it. It’s late. Go to sleep.

Alys nodded and then leaned against the window. Her eyes shut obediently.

My hands clenched on the steering wheel. Stupid town council condemning the stupid house. Not that it shouldn’t have been condemned a long time ago. That was the whole reason we’d taken up residence there. No one else wanted it. That’s what we were reduced to— living off what normal people would shun.

It had been a beast of a summer. And so far, autumn wasn’t looking much better.

Panic clawed at me at the thought of winter. So far, we’d gotten by with flashlights and camping gear. Maybe we ought to head farther south. Leave North Carolina altogether and head down to Florida.

I snorted. Like the wagon would make it to Florida. We’d be lucky if the sputtering engine held through the next county.

Headlights appeared in the rearview and made my eyes burn. My heart rate sped up. Just another trait of the anxiety that was my constant companion. Another motorist on the highway was nothing to get worked up over.

Blue lights lit up the night. Terror swamped me. Police.

It’s okay, Laney. Don’t freak out. You didn’t do anything wrong.

At least that he would know about. Maybe he was after someone else and our car happened to be in the way.

Slowly, I put on my blinker and pulled on to the shoulder all the while praying, please let him be after someone else, please.

He wasn’t. The flashing lights stopped right behind our car.

I wanted to scream but the girls were all sound asleep. My hands shook as I reached for the glove box. Extracted the registration. What were the chances he wouldn’t notice it was expired?

With my luck, nonexistent.

In the driver’s side mirror, I watched him approach. A big man, tall. Instinctively, I shrank smaller into my seat. I wasn’t a fan of men at all these days, especially big men who wore uniforms.

You’re not doing anything wrong, I whispered to myself as I hand-cranked the window down and let in the brisk mountain air.

His headlights lit up the back of the car, the mounds of clothing, and what was left of our food and bottles of water. Because I was watching for it, I saw his lips compress into a thin line as he took it all in.

At least the girls and I were clean. We’d used the neighbor’s hose just that morning to wash. It’s amazing what lows a woman will stoop to when her back is up against the wall. No indignity is too great. Pride was a luxury I could no longer afford.

Yet I was proud of my girls. They were the only thing I’d gotten right. The sight of them made me sit up straighter and hold my head high as the police officer approached.

Then I saw the uniform. Not the police, but a local sheriff. Still law enforcement.

I’m sure I wasn’t speeding. I offered him my most charming smile, the one Southern ladies were born with. Sometimes it was our only defense.

Just passing through? He took the license and registration card.

On my way to a new job. I’d become such a good liar, especially to men in positions of power.

Whereabouts is that? He was older than I first thought, which might not be a great thing. Seasoned law had seen a lot more and it was harder to blow smoke.

I’m not really sure. Another smile, this one holding a hint of self-deprecation. You see, I’m a little lost.

And wasn’t that the understatement of the year?

Another set of headlights appeared on the road behind us. Panic flared. Had he called for backup? Was I about to be arrested? What if he took my girls away?

Being homeless wasn’t a crime. But if the sheriff from the last town had reported us as vagrants, Social Services could step in.

My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I will kill anyone who tries to take my girls.

The thought was so foreign, I gasped out loud. Where had it come from? Violence wasn’t in my nature. Luckily, the officer was distracted by the other vehicle and didn’t notice the odd moment.

The car didn’t pull up behind his vehicle. I looked at the man’s stance. He’d gone rigid. No, whoever was stopping, it wasn’t someone he had called.

The car passed in front of me and then pulled on to the shoulder. He had a hand on his still holstered sidearm when the driver’s door opened and a tall, lean black woman wearing a flowing teal and orange dress in geometric patterns emerged.

There you be, her melodic voice called out. Creole, I realized as she approached. She didn’t walk so much as glide forward. I see you have already met our good Sheriff Darren Hillard.

Jess. The sheriff tipped his hat, an automatic gesture. Landsakes, woman. What are you doing out here at this time of night?

Why looking for my new assistant, of course. I told you I be needing one the last time you slept over. Thank you for finding her. The woman—Jess apparently—looked to be about my age, somewhere on the far side of forty. But she owned it in a way I doubt I ever could.

Then her words penetrated. Assistant? What was going on? I looked at the woman who seemed to be charming the sheriff as if he were a cobra and her music was the only thing keeping him from striking.

He cleared his throat. I’m on duty, Jess.

She just smiled and it was so much more than the one I’d offered. It was seductive and secretive and alluring. If she be living with me, she be finding out sooner or later about us. The last word ended in a hiss.

Is this true? Sheriff Hillard turned back to me.

And really, what could I do other than nod and go along with it? I didn’t know where the turn-off was to her… place.

You be missing it by about a mile. We can caravan there if the good sheriff be willing to escort us? Though she asked it as a question, I could hear the steel in her voice. Oh yes, Darren Hillard would be escorting us if he ever wanted to see her naked again.

Her registration’s expired, Sheriff Hillard began.

Jess waved that away. You and your paperwork.

It’s the law. Darren stood taller.

I would have shrunk from that posture but Jess put a hand against his chest, right over his heart. Don’t you see she’s got three little ones that need tendin’? A woman can only spread herself around so much before she rips clean through. Maybe you could be helping her see to that once she is settled.

She’d diffused the situation better than any bomb expert. Jess stood in the night in her bright garb. Cool and composed. It was clear who was in charge and it wasn’t the sheriff.

I’ll escort y’all there. He nodded once and stalked back to his car.

Jess held my gaze for a long moment, her dark eyes on me. I had a million questions. Who was she?