“I’m so sorry, Eliza,” Catherine said, holding on to her wrist with one hand and fanning Eliza’s face with the other. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Eliza took several more deep breaths, but couldn’t seem to calm her racing heart. Suddenly, her vision slipped out of focus.
“Eliza? Eliza!”
A pair of strong arms caught her as she went down. Eliza’s eyes fluttered open, and she found herself nestled in the firm grasp of Harrison Knox.
She looked directly into his dark blue eyes and felt faint all over again.
“Miss Williams! Are you all right?” he asked.
Somehow Eliza found the strength to straighten up. She pressed her palm into the cool lamppost behind her again and cleared her throat. Before long, her mind felt solid once more and she was able to collect her thoughts. She looked up at Harrison and saw that Jonathan was with him as well, hovering with Catherine just over Harrison’s shoulder with a look of pure concern.
“Here. Come sit on the stairs,” Jonathan said, gesturing at the stone steps of the station.
“No. No, thank you. I’m fine,” Eliza replied, cursing herself silently for being so feeble.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Harrison asked, taking her hand and looking deeply into her eyes, as if he was trying to see inside her body for himself and make sure all was well.
The tenderness and concern in that glance made Eliza want to lean into him and beg him to take her home. But something moved in the corner of her vision, and she turned her head. Mrs. Hodge was on her way down the stairs with a tin mug of water. When she saw the boys, Mrs. Hodge paused, as if startled. Then her jaw set with determination and she hustled toward Eliza even faster.
Eliza glanced at Catherine, panicked. But Catherine was staring at Eliza’s and Harrison’s hands, which were still touching. As Theresa’s best friend, Catherine was surely obliged to tell her about such things. Blushing furiously, Eliza quickly withdrew her fingers.
“Here, Miss Williams,” Mrs. Hodge said, handing the mug of water to Eliza and helping cup her fingers around it. “Drink slowly.”
Eliza sipped the cool water as Mrs. Hodge shot Harrison an admonishing look. He took a step back.
“Mr. Knox, Mr. Thackery, thank you for your assistance,” Mrs. Hodge said stiffly. “You may go now.”
“Of course,” Harrison said quickly.
“Feel better, Miss Williams!” Jonathan called out as the two boys started down the sidewalk again.
Before Eliza could say anything, Mrs. Hodge swooped in, checking her pulse, feeling her forehead, and ushering her to the nearest bench. As she sat, her eyes trained on Harrison’s retreating form, Eliza felt ill all over again—but for reasons having nothing to do with her fainting.
Witches
The following evening, just before midnight, Eliza sat in the basement of the Billings Chapel along with Alice, freezing in her whisper-thin white nightgown. Alice shivered next to her, though Eliza was certain it was more out of fear than from the cold, for her gown was made of flannel. Catherine and Theresa walked over to join Eliza and Alice on the floor.
“Well, what do we think of our temple?” Theresa asked, tucking the skirt of her own white nightgown underneath her and looking around in a self-satisfied way.
“Must we call it that?” Alice asked, shivering. “It sounds so . . . satanic.”
“Covens meet in temples. That’s what the spell book says,” Catherine replied.
Eliza, Catherine, Theresa, and Alice had spent the past hour transforming the plain white room into a colorful, candlelit cavern. Catherine and Eliza had purchased dozens of candles at the general store in town yesterday, and the candles were set into holders and candelabras of various heights that stood around the periphery of the room. Alice and Catherine had gathered all the scarves the four girls owned, and Eliza had swiped a hammer and nails from the toolshed behind McKinley Hall. Now the purples, golds, reds, greens, pinks, and blues of the scarves hung about the room, forming a cozy setting. Theresa had also managed to collect dozens of strings of cheap glass beads, which she had strung from the ceiling. In the candlelight, the beads twinkled like stars, giving the basement an ethereal feel. The coziness of it all had chased out Eliza’s remaining nerves about the evening. She couldn’t wait for the other girls to arrive.
“I simply don’t feel right about this,” Alice said, her teeth chattering. “Couldn’t we have found another place to hold our meetings? This is God’s house.”
Theresa sighed, straightening the lace cuffs of her nightgown. “It’s not his house. It’s his basement.”
Eliza couldn’t help laughing, and Catherine joined in as well.
“Do you think anyone will come?” Alice asked, ignoring their laughter.
“I hope they will,” Theresa said. “My hand still hurts from addressing all those invitations last night.”
Theresa had insisted on writing out all the invitations herself, claiming that her handwriting was the most formal. Then Eliza and Catherine had been granted the distinct honor of shoving the envelopes under the girls’ doors that morning.