Chapter 41

Summer was over, and with it the regular tourist season. Business at The Healing Witch declined for several weeks until replaced by another set of tourists, older and more affluent.

Now and then, a traveler appeared. Mary and Marjorie became experienced at recognizing them. Some kept a trace of the old English accent, others revealed themselves by certain mannerisms. All had familiarity with what the shop offered.

Just as Mary recognized them, the visitors were quick to realize that Mary and Marjorie also took the path.

“There are so many,” Mary said. “It is as if all who live in New England have been here.”

“We’ve had a lot,” Marjorie said. “I’d still like to know how they heard about us.”

“I keep forgetting to ask.”

“The ski crowd is next,” Gail said. She didn’t sound pleased at the thought.

“Are they a problem?” Mary asked.

Gail shrugged. “Just wandering around town wearing their ski clothes, like they want everyone to know they ski.”

“I remember them from the winter past. Skiing means nothing to me.”

“Maybe they’re just too tired to change.”

“They bring a lot of money to the state,” Marjorie said.

“Who comes when they leave?” Mary asked.

Gail thought for a second. “There’s a break for a few months, two or three, and then it starts all over again.”

“April and May?” Mary asked.

“Roughly March through May,” Gail replied.

“March through May.” Mary glanced at Marjorie. “We could close for two weeks.”

“We could,” Marjorie said.

Gail’s eyes widened. “Danielsford?”

“You read my mind,” Mary said.

“Do you think Frank will agree?” Marjorie asked.

“He shall or we go without him.”

“We don’t need him to show us the way?” Gail asked.

“It has changed much,” Mary said, "but not enough that I cannot locate the town.”

“And Rebecca’s house?” Marjorie asked.

“When we reach Danielsford, I will know the direction. Locating her house might be more difficult.”

“It could be under water,” Gail said.

“If it is, our search is over.”

“Tell me again why we want to find it,” Marjorie said.

“To help her,” Gail said.

“To put an end to it once and for all,” Mary added.

Gail excused herself for a moment. When she had gone, Marjorie turned to Mary.

“You realize we’ll hear about nothing else from now until we go.”

Mary laughed. “I know, but after giving it some thought, I know it’s something that needs doing.”

“Do you think we can find the house?”

“I don’t know,” Mary said. “It well could be under the water, the place it sat.”

“Can we help her?” Marjorie’s voice was serious.

“I do not know that, either. All we can do is try.”

Gail returned in time to hear the last of the conversation. “At least we’d be trying. It’s better than sitting here waiting for her to come back.”

The door opened, and a man and a woman entered the shop. Both were older. They stopped and looked around.

“I’ll take them,” Gail said.

Mary nodded and watched as the girl talked to the two people, then led them to a rack of herbs.

“She’s very good,” Marjorie said.

“I think she loves the work.”

“She enjoys being with us.”

“Yes,” Mary said. “And she learns, and remembers what she has learned.”

“She does. You realize it’s all we’ll hear about from now until we go.”

Gail walked the customers to the cash register where they paid for their purchases, thanked her for her help and left. She returned to Mary and Marjorie in time to hear the last comment.

“At least we’d be trying,” she said. It’s better than being here waiting for her to come back.”

Both women nodded. They sensed she was right. If they couldn’t help Rebecca, they could make the attempt, and it was better than fighting her in Woodstock, Vermont where innocent people might suffer.

Mary said, “She could come back. We don’t know if she will. Going there may encourage her to try again.”

“You know her better than us,” Gail said. “What do you think?”

“I think we must go. It is better to stop her there.”

“If we can stop her,” Marjorie added.

“We’ve got to,” Gail said. “She’s already killed at least three or four people.”

“Don’t forget all the trouble we had with the witch hunters,” Marjorie said. “The people they hanged could have been because of her.”

“I don’t think so,” Mary said. “I don’t know how they came, but I think Rebecca had nothing to do with them.”

“What I haven’t figured out is how they did it,” Marjorie said. “Those men were from the past. There’s no doubt about it.”

“They were,” Mary agreed. “From the Salem Court. With warrants.”

“They really thought they could come here and arrest you on 300-year-old charges,” Gail said.

“My husband had a part in it,” Marjorie said. “Remember, he spent years working on it.”

Gail looked at her, but said nothing. The vision of Marjorie Putnam shooting and killing her husband was still fresh.

“So how did they get here?” Gail asked.

Mary and Marjorie both shook their heads.

“Could it happen again?” Gail asked.

“It happened once,” Marjorie said, “so I imagine it could again. Once people discover something new, it’s always out there. What happened wasn’t so much the church’s doing; it was several renegade ministers including my husband. The others are still there.”

In the days that followed, Gail and Mary went into the forests around Woodstock to replenish certain herbs they could not get from the farms. When Gail asked during one of her buying trips, she discovered nobody had heard of them.

Two of the herb farms had since told Mary they would grow that variety the following year. In the meantime, she needed to collect enough for the coming winter.

“They should be plentiful,” Mary said as she and Gail trekked into the woods.

“I know where some are,” Gail said. “I don’t think there’s enough to carry us through the winter.”

“Take me there. More will be nearby.”

Not long after Gail and Mary left, an older woman entered. Marjorie went to greet her and Frank took position behind the register.

“Mary Bradbury is proprietress of this store?” the woman asked.

“She is,” Marjorie replied and told her that Mary was out for the day.

“I know her from long ago,” the woman said. “Tell her Hester Prince called.”

She walked through the store, looking at and selecting bags of the dried plants, nodding her approval as she studied the various herbs.

“She has done well, as I knew she would. I am sorry to have missed her.”

“Where did you know her?” Marjorie asked.

Hester Prince stopped and eyed Marjorie. “In Salem Village, Marjorie Cloyce. I knew of you, too.”

She went to the register and placed the herbs on the counter.

“Hester Prince,” Marjorie said, thinking. “The name is not familiar to me.”

“It is of no matter.” She watched as Frank put her purchases in a paper bag, thanked him and left.

“Another traveler,” Frank said.

“Yes,” Marjorie nodded. She watched the woman go down the street. “Another.”

When Mary and Gail returned later in the afternoon, Marjorie told her about the visitor.

“She spent almost $100,” Frank said.

“Hester Prince?” Mary asked, shaking her head. “The name is unfamiliar.”

“There are so many,” Marjorie said. “Anyway, she just said she knew you.”

“Did you know anybody named Hester?” Gail asked.

Mary shook her head. “No one.”

“Well, she seemed disappointed in not getting to see you,” Frank said.

Marjorie described the woman again. She watched Mary, and knew the woman was unfamiliar to her.

Mary listened and shook her head. “I do not know. Did she say she would return?”

“No,” Frank told her. “She never said.”

Mary and Gail left a minute later, with a last comment to close the shop at seven. They would be back and all would go out for supper.

“Sounds good,” Frank said, checking his watch. “One more hour.”

The restaurant was not one of their usual stops. It was less than half full, allowing them to get a table with no wait.

When they had ordered, talk stopped for a moment as they looked around. All the patrons were local people, from Woodstock.

“This is when it’s nice,” Gail said.

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

“No tourists. It’s when the town is normal. People are friendly again and all until the skiers arrive.”

“Without the tourists, we would have no business,” Mary said.

Gail thought for a second and nodded. “I guess they’re good for some things.”

“Seems like nobody in town likes them, but what would happen without the tourist trade,” Frank asked.

“I don’t know,” Gail said. “They’ve always been here as long as I’ve been alive. Dad, too, I guess.”

“Why doesn’t anyone like them?” Marjorie asked.

“Some are okay,” Gail said. “You should know what they’re like by now. They’ve been in the store. Some are nice, others are rude and obnoxious.”

“Pushy and demanding,” Frank added.

“Some,” Marjorie said, “not all.”

“It depends on where they’re from,” Gail nodded. She began to say more, glanced at Frank, and held her tongue.

“This is a very interesting conversation,” Mary said. “But the fact remains, we need them.”

Gail agreed, if grudgingly. “So we grit our teeth, smile, and try to be nice.”

“Yes,” Mary said. “And resist turning them into toads.”

“I wonder if there’s a law against it?” Marjorie asked.

“I don’t believe so,” Mary said. “But there are so many laws in this age, who can say?”