Maeve dropped to her knees in the middle of the parlor rug with her cloak half on and her bonnet askew, and Pepper hit her hard in the chest. Maeve gathered her up. Pepper rolled belly-up in her missus's arms.
"Oh ye daft wee terror," Maeve said, her voice cracking. "Oh ye stupid, awful wee terror. Where did ye go. Where did ye…"
"MISSUS," Pepper said into her chest. "Missus oh missus, ye'll never believe what's happened to me. Oh missus, oh, and missus cries every Sunday when she finds the dead birds in the garden and she buries them under the lavender and sings the old prayer with the second verse her granny taught her."
"Pepper." Maeve was shocked.
"…and missus, oh missus, ye should hear the things going on here. Honey is a glittering young witch and the great tall lavender warlock has a voice like a mountain and the gentleman, has the saddest old eyes and is very kind and his cat is very rude and oh missus oh, missus is afraid of…"
Maeve's hand clamped over Pepper's small mouth.
"PEPPER."
"…mm mmphmph mm…"
"Don't ye dare." Maeve rocked back on her heels.
Pepper's spill finally went silent. Her eyes, above the small gripping fist, went wide and wet.
At Lazlo's ankle, Duchess's tail-tip flicked once. Lazlo's eyes went to Duchess for less than a heartbeat. Then he turned them back, to listen to whatever was next.
Maeve held Pepper one beat. Two. Three. "There's a good girl." She lifted Pepper into the crook of her arm, stood, and turned a slow circle in the middle of the parlor rug with her cat held tight to her chest like a child. Everyone was watching. Then Maeve looked at Rhoda.
"All right, Mrs Hadwin." Her chin was up. Her eyes were dry. "Ye've got me and I'm not leavin'. I'll sit in yer parlor till ye sort this. I'll sit till the apples drop and the snow comes if I have to. But if ye don't get this right by the bells of midday," She let it land. "I'll silence the lot of them meself. Every cat and creature in this house. I've a ward in me pocket that'll hold their tongues till Beltane, and I'll lay it down. I'll not have me Pepper tellin' me whole life into a roomful of strangers another minute."
Lazlo, on the dark end of the settee, had set down his plate. His thumb, in his coat pocket, had found the rabbit's foot.
"My dear lady," he said. "Take the chair by the fire. You'll be warm. The Hadwins will sort this they always do. And we," his hand turned in a small inclusive gesture toward the room, "we will help them however we can."
Maeve blinked then took the chair by the fire, settled Pepper in her lap, and folded her arms across her cat.
From the dining room came a single soft chime.
Rhoda set down her coffee. "Excuse me a moment." She crossed through to the dining room. The Copy Reveal Device above the sideboard had gone gold at the edges, a private call. She set her hand to the glass.
"Zelda."
"Heard you've got cats, sweetheart." The face in the mirror was small and freckled and entirely calm. "You holdin' up?"
"I'm holding."
"You need bodies, you say the word. I've got three boys here owe me a favor and a free week. They'd be on your porch in an hour."
Rhoda smiled into the glass for the first time that morning. "Thank you, sweetheart. Not yet."
"You sure. Call me."
"I'll call."
"You call."
The glass dimmed. Rhoda stood a moment with her hand on the sideboard, then went on through to the kitchen to put on more coffee.
From the wisteria, Dean Martin's head turned toward the lawn. The light caught the green of his feathers as he counted softly under his breath.
"Sugar," he murmured. "Three more in the grass. Just like that."
Honey jumped up. "More?"
