My Three Warlocks

My Three Warlocks

By Robert H. Cherny

4stagewalker@gmail.com

Copyright 2015 by Robert H. Cherny

Smashwords Edition -2021

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Three warlocks are content to use their special powers to keep their horse-training business solvent until a pre-teen equestrian and an ancient wizard recruit them to protect a rape victim from enemies that would steal her baby and kill her.

76k words

140+ pages

Three warlocks, brothers, triplets run a ranch where they train horses for cowboys and cattle ranchers. They use their special powers to keep their ranch solvent and, despite the recent death of their adoptive mother, are content with their lives. All that changes when a pre-teen equestrian shows up with her father to buy a horse. On the same day, triplet witches and their mother are directed to the ranch by a mysterious stranger.

The witch’s mother and the girl’s father have history, and only he knows that none of this is a coincidence. Within two days, the warlocks, the witches, their mother, the girl, her father, and some friends and family use their powers to fight a forest fire. They are then recruited by the mysterious stranger, an ancient wizard, to protect a rape victim. The woman was raped by a magical being who intends to steal the baby and kill her. This has been going on a long time, and the wizard believes he finally has the team to stop it. The wizard quickly loses control of the team, and it completes the mission without him.

The team takes on missions without the wizard, relegating him to advisor status. After several missions on their own, the group emerges far more potent than anything the wizard could have hoped for. Even though he created the team, he does not control them, and in some ways, the battle group he created controls him.

Prologue

Dear Mrs. Rogers,

On the second anniversary of your husband’s passing, please accept into your heart my three sons. They are just two months old, as you can see from their birth certificates. Please forgive me for dumping them on your front porch, but I know you to be a giving and caring person with no children of your own. Their father was a drummer in a country music band. He was killed in a fire at the club where he was working. He was pushing people out of the building when the roof came in on him and killed him. He was a hero, but he left us penniless. He lived long enough to see and name his sons. He was so proud of them. For once in his life, things were looking up. His family wants nothing to do with us, and I have no family.

I might have cared for one baby by myself, but I could not support three. If you cannot care for them, please take them to the fire station so that they may be turned over to child services.

Thank you.

Their names are Garth, Waylon, and Dylan, and they are warlocks.

Chapter One

The Monday before Christmas dawned clear and cold. It was a welcome change from the dismal weather of the previous week. The ground was still soggy, and the horses’ hooves made squishing noises as they and their riders inspected the property’s fences. In this part of Florida, November was supposed to be the start of the dry season, but this season was not being a typical year. The rains had continued well into December. Garth pointed, and his brothers looked up. The pre-dawn sky was beautiful with its smattering of wispy clouds showing pink, magenta, and subtle pastels on a pale blue background. The vestiges of the front that had blown through in the night left the sky painted with delicate soft-edged hues instead of the more garish brilliant colors typical of a Florida sunrise.

Not as much damage as I expected, Waylon said.

As much wind as we’ve had the last few days, I thought sure this whole fence would be down, Dylan said.

None of the cattle got out, and the rain greened up the pasture, Garth said.

A couple more days of that, and we’ll slide through the winter easily, Waylon said. Nothing like freshly watered grasses to keep the cattle happy.

Don’t get your hopes up.

They laughed.

As the brothers rode the fence, they discovered a tree limb that had fallen across the barbed wire. The top strand had been broken, but the two lower strands were intact. While most people would have needed a chainsaw to clear the branch, Garth ran his finger around it. Flame issued from his finger, cutting the wood as neatly as a blowtorch cuts through soft metal. Once the branch was divided into manageable pieces, Dylan created a strong wind to lift the pieces off the ground and dump them where they could be retrieved with a farm wagon later. On other ranches, a rope would be tied to the saddle horns, and the horses would pull the branches to their pickup location. The horses did not seem to mind being relieved of that burden and calmly watched the pieces of what would become firewood float in front of their faces.

Waylon cut a piece of wire to make a splice for the broken fencing wire. Garth rested his hand on the overlapped ends and welded them together. Waylon held the splice in place, watering it down to keep the heat from spreading and burning the adjacent fence posts. Once the splice was complete, Waylon washed away all the evidence of their having been there with a wave of his hand.

We really need to buy new fencing wire, Dylan said as he looked down the fence line where it had been spliced many times over the years. As much as they tried to hide it, evidence of their special powers was apparent to anyone who knew what to look for.

There’s as much rust in that wire as there is metal, Waylon agreed.

I know, Garth said. For now, we just need to keep on doing what we’re doing and hope for a break.

Any time now would be great, Dylan said.

You know that’s right, Garth replied.

The boys carefully inspected the remainder of the perimeter fence before returning to the house for breakfast. A big furry dog of indeterminate breed barked a greeting from the front porch.

The brothers put up the horses. They were headed inside when a crew-cab dually pickup truck towing a fifth-wheel horse trailer arrived at the end of the long driveway. The boys smiled in recognition.

Garth greeted the truck’s driver. Hey, Mr. Johnson, it is good to see you. What brings you by?

Morning, Garth. Travis Johnson was one of the few people that could tell the triplets apart. I promised Heather a new horse for Christmas. Figured Y’all could help me out.

A girl just entering puberty stumbled out of the truck rubbing her eyes. Heather had stayed up much too late last night reading a letter from her mother. Heather’s mother had disappeared when Heather was little, and one of the few things she left behind was a letter to be opened on Heather’s twelfth birthday. Heather had delayed opening the letter for a month after her birthday, but finally, curiosity got the better of her. Having read the letter many times, Heather was still not sure what to believe. What her mother wrote was just too crazy to be true. Still, it explained some of the weird things that had happened in the last few years. It made sense out of some of the fights her father had with some of their stranger visitors. With all that was on her mind, the short nap in the truck on the ride here had done nothing to clear her head.

Heather needed a new horse. The one she was riding was old, gentle, patient, and calm. She shared the horse with the trail ride business, so it wasn’t even really her horse, but it was the one she had learned on. For a less active rider, or a nervous tourist on their first trail ride, the horse was perfect, but Heather needed a smaller, sprightlier mount. Since her father bought all their horses and brought his friends to buy horses, this seemed like the right place to find her one. This was only her third visit to this ranch, and the guys kind of intimidated her. They were nice enough, and they were friendly, but they were big guys used to being outdoors. They may have been gentle giants, but that did not make them any less intimidating.

Well, Y’all have come to the right place, Garth said. We have several excellent horses for sale, but you knew that. Look, we’ve just come in from riding the fences. It’s too early to do business. Y’all are welcome to join us for breakfast or hang out here and look at the horses until we’re done.

The dog bounded over to Heather with its unruly multicolored fur flopping all over and nuzzled her until she petted him.

Y’all still making pancakes with your mom’s recipe?

You know that, Garth said.

And eggs from that coop over there?

Collected last night. They don’t get any fresher.

Oh, oh, you twisted my arm. Oh, gee, I think we’d love to join you for breakfast. Can we help make it?

You can squeeze the juices.

With pleasure. Nothing like fresh citrus to start your day.

You know that’s right. Garth turned to Heather. Heather, while your dad squeezes the oranges, could you get some tomatoes and green peppers from the greenhouse? Pick whatever else you want with your breakfast. We don’t use pesticides, so it’s all safe.

Heather slowly opened the greenhouse door, blocking it so Buster could not get in. The dog was not allowed in the greenhouse. He only whined a little before wandering off. Heather had spent time in this greenhouse on both of her previous visits. This was the only cattle ranch she was aware of that had a greenhouse for their vegetable garden. In fact, there were only a few that had vegetable gardens. Most relied on the grocery store like everyone else.

The boys’ mother had been alive on Heather’s first visit and had insisted that Heather stay to chat while the boys, including Heather’s father, negotiated the sale of the horses. Jeanine was suffering in the aftermath of her third stroke, and the doctors were surprised she was alive. They did not offer much hope for her long-term prospects. Still, with her lopsided smile and only having the use of one hand, she made Heather feel welcome. They mostly talked about Heather, or rather Jeanine asked questions, and Heather answered them. Jeanine drew out of Heather her most cherished secrets in a way that only a genuinely sensitive friend can.

Jeanine had met her husband when they were both in the Air Force stationed at Tyndall Air Force Base. They met at a Wednesday night Bible study class and were married in the base chapel a year later. They saved as much money as they could while in the service, and when they got out, they bought this ranch at a foreclosure auction. Jeanine considered herself lucky to have had not one but four great loves in her life. She wished that more people could have the happiness she had seen. She said she knew that Heather was also capable of great love.

They chatted for two hours, and as lunchtime approached, Jeanine grew tired. Even so, she told Heather that she must find a woman, ideally old enough to be her mother, with whom she could confide. She needed someone who could guide her through the transition to womanhood and with whom she could discuss matters she could not discuss with her dad and damn sure should never discuss with her brother.

Heather recognized the wisdom of Jeanine’s advice and accepted it willingly. The only advice she had an issue with was Jeanine’s insistence that her father must find a good woman with whom to share his life. He was a good man and deserved a good woman. Despite his dismal track record, he had room in his heart for the right woman. When this woman wandered into his life, Heather must accept her, not as a replacement for her mother but as her friend independent of the relationship with her father.

Jeanine grew tired as lunchtime approached, but she insisted that Heather and her father stay for lunch. Before sending Heather to the greenhouse to pick the vegetables they would need for lunch, Jeanine told Heather the story of the greenhouse. The boys had been about eight at the time. Sharp and industrious, they could figure out how to do whatever they decided was worth doing. They were already beginning to presage the extraordinary men they would be when they matured and would do anything Jeanine asked them to do. Jeanine had been grocery shopping and had been dissatisfied with the quality of the produce at the local market. The boys had been saving the money they made doing odd jobs for neighbors all year to buy Christmas presents for Jeanine. They enlisted the itinerant ranch hands who happened to be working there. With their help and all the money they could scrape together, they built the wooden frame for the greenhouse. A neighbor donated the remains of a roll of clear plastic sheeting. A few days before Christmas, the greenhouse was ready to be occupied. The greenhouse had been expanded, and some of the sheeting had been replaced with canvas, but the feeling of love with which the greenhouse had been built remained.

This sense of love gave Heather the reverence for this ramshackle old structure she felt as she stepped inside. On that first visit, Heather felt a living, breathing spirit had opened its arms to her and welcomed her to explore the fruits, vegetables, herbs, and spices nurtured inside. She had lingered that day, enjoying the feeling of warmth she wished she could have gotten from her own mother, but she had vanished, leaving her with her dad. She had loved Heather, which made her disappearance all the more confusing. Not that her dad didn’t love her, but it was not the same.

On the second visit, a few months later, less than a year ago now, Heather had returned for Jeanine’s funeral. Jeanine had insisted that Heather be given some of her jewelry, including the necklace and pendant she now wore. The jewelry had been a gift from Jeanine’s husband, and Jeanine expressed the hope that the jewelry would help her find the kind of love he had had with her husband. At the funeral, Heather learned that Jeanine was not the boys’ mother and that they had been abandoned on her front porch by their mother, who could not care for them. Even though Jeanine was alone on the ranch, her husband having died two years previously, she took the boys in and adopted them.

When Heather entered the greenhouse to find a temporary sanctuary from the crowd of people who filled the house following the funeral, the love was gone. The greenhouse knew Jeanine had died. It was sad and in mourning. The plants were wilted and droopy. They seemed pale in the relatively weak January light. Heather watered the plants, ruining her dress in the process. When her father found her tending to the plants, rather than scolding her, he hugged her, gave her a kiss, and gently escorted her to the truck for the trip home.

As Heather entered the greenhouse this third time, she felt a sense of breathless anticipation. It was as if the greenhouse knew that something important and grand, perhaps even a bit scary, was about to happen. The feeling of love was back, but it was almost overwhelmed by the excitement foreshadowing whatever was just over the horizon. The plants were healthy with full, vibrant color and stout stems and stalks, but the bewildering array of weeds growing between the plants was just as healthy. The dirt in the planters was moist and dark. The hydroponic plants hung in long rows with an abundance of ripe fruit. Except for the profusion of weeds occupying every available nook and cranny, the greenhouse looked amazingly good since the boys did not tend it the way Jeanine had.

Still, Heather reminisced about Jeanine and their conversation of a year ago. Jeanine loved the boys and, if she had met Heather sooner, might have loved her as well. Heather wondered if that were what having a mother would have been like. Heather did not remember her own mother since she had vanished so long ago, and the letter she left produced more questions than answers.

Heather gathered what she had been sent for and sat on the bench in the center aisle. She soaked in the peacefulness of the plants, thought about Jeanine, and wondered what her own mother had really been like.

Travis found Heather on the bench with the beginning of tears in her eyes. Hey, kid, we thought you got lost.

No, Dad, just thinking about Jeanine and about Mom.

Are you getting all misty?

Yeah.

Good. You haven’t cried in a long time. I was worried about you. This is a good thing. You know I love you.

I know, Dad.

We should go inside. Everyone’s starving.

Dad, would you have married Jeanine?

She was twenty years older than me. If we had been the same age, yeah, I might have.

I love you, too, Dad.

* * * * *

After they ate and cleaned up the breakfast dishes, Travis said, You know your mom was one of the nicest people I ever met. We’re gonna miss her. I bought a lot of horses from her over the years. Are you planning on keeping the ranch now that she’s gone?

Waylon said, Yeah, we’ve talked about this a lot. After her second stroke, she wanted to make sure we didn’t feel like we were imprisoned on the ranch. We like it here. It’s a good business. I think we can make a go of it.

I’m glad. The place suits you. Oh, and you’re adults now, so just call me ‘Travis,’ okay?

Sure.

Once the dishwasher had been started, they trooped out to the paddock.

Dylan said, I think we have just the horse for Heather. Her name is Sadie. She’s two years old and gentle as a kitten.

Waylon said, Don’t lie to the young lady. Sadie has a lot of spirit. We’ve trained her as a cutting horse, so she’s used to being around cattle.

Garth asked, Will you be working the ranch with your dad?

If Raleigh lets me, Heather replied.

Raleigh? Dylan asked.

My pain in the butt, older brother.

Travis explained, Raleigh has been running things the last year or so. He’s done really well. Sending him to Ag school was right for him. I couldn’t pay for all that education and not let him use it. It’s turned out all right.

He’s just so bossy! Heather whined.

Older brothers can be like that, Waylon said. He is. Waylon pointed at Garth.

Y’all are the same age. You’re triplets, Heather challenged.

Until he gets bossy, Dylan said.

Garth whistled, and all the horses in the paddock looked up. He called Sadie’s name and a chestnut, slightly smaller than the others, trotted over. She lipped his hand as he gave her a piece of carrot.

Sadie, this is Heather. Heather, this is Sadie. Take your time getting to know each other.

Heather climbed the fence and dropped into the paddock. She reached out to Sadie, who walked to her. Hey, Sadie, are you a good girl?

Sadie nodded and nickered.

Heather reached up to pet Sadie’s neck. Sadie turned to face Heather and rested her nose on Heather’s shoulder. They stood quietly as Heather stroked Sadie’s neck and then her shoulders. When Heather turned back to speak to her father, Sadie put her nose in Heather’s face and blew.

EE-UW! She blew snot in my face.

The boys laughed. She likes you, Garth said. Would you like to go for a ride?

Dad, may I?

I’m sure there’s a saddle around here that will fit you, Travis said.

Waylon said, Come with me, and we can find you a saddle. Then, we’ll go for a ride.

As soon as they headed for the tack shed, the dog raced to meet them and barked.

Buster, you want to go for a run in the woods? Waylon asked.

The dog barked and wagged his tail.

You can come, Waylon said.

They grabbed saddles as the dog ran underfoot, threatening to trip them in his excitement.

As Waylon and Heather saddled the horses, Dylan said, Sadie is a working horse. She is not a pet. She will expect you to spend time with her every day. She needs exercise to stay fit. She will take good care of you if you take good care of her. Do you understand?

Yes, I will be good to her.

Garth said, We train quarter horses, and Sadie was trained as a cutting horse, so she’ll be good for long trail rides and full days in the saddle. She’s used to being around cattle, so she doesn’t get upset easily. Have a good time. We’ll see you back here when you’re done with your ride.

Waylon and Heather rode off toward the river with Buster barking in excitement as he raced to keep up.

As soon as they were out of sight of her father, Heather asked, Does Sadie like to run?

Waylon laughed. She loves to run. She’s our fastest horse. She’s actually a thoroughbred. She has papers and the whole shooting match. She’s the real deal. The breeder named her. Usually, we don’t name our horses. We let the buyers do that.

I don’t think we can afford an expensive horse.

Waylon smiled. She’s too small to race like a thoroughbred, and she isn’t strong enough for a lot of other things she could do, but she is fast. Your dad said you should have a horse that would challenge you. Race you to the creek!

They ran to the river. Sadie arrived first, but not so far ahead that Heather suspected Waylon let her win despite what he had said. Still, Sadie had a nice smooth gait, and she did love to run. They watered the horses at the creek.

She’s really fast, Heather said. Doesn’t seem like cutting horse material. How did you get her?

"We buy all our horses