This is the end of Landon’s ordeal with the Poor Valley Witch.
Part twelve of Poor Valley Witch.
The witch was putting up barriers, and Landon wished with all his heart they weren’t pushing through them.
Welcome to part X of Poor Valley Witch, my little Appalachian gothic yarn.
He’d always had the impression that his grandmother didn’t like his mother.
“You need the nubbins,” she said. The cherry sweetness was gone completely.
“What’s this?” He took the tin from her, still holding the ring in one hand.
He picked it up and squinted at it: a small, gold ring, engraved crudely–scratched, more like.