A Witch's Curse Part 2

I've let a lunatic into my house! "What makes you think we're witches?"

"My dear, I've been a member of your grandmother's coven for over fifty years."

Enough! I'm not going to sit here and listen to this crackpot. For all I know, she laced this pie with poison. Visions of Snow White danced in her head. "I think you better leave now," Carolyn said, her voice icy.

"I understand, sweetie. This is all new to you. Think about what I've said and I'll drop by in a couple days."

Carolyn stood, walked over to, and held the front door open. "I highly doubt if I'll change my mind, Mrs. Burns. What you've accused me and my family of is utter nonsense."

"You will," Sarah said with conviction. "Give yourself some time and you'll come to believe I told you the truth. Goodbye, my dear. So very nice to finally be able to talk with you."

Chapter Two.

What Sarah told her left Carolyn disconcerted. She knew witches and ghosts only as bedtime stories to scare little kids, a myth, or as a costume worn on Halloween. But honestly, what did she really know about her family? What else explained her midnight caller, or her sleeping for that matter? Yes, she felt h.o.r.n.y as h.e.l.l right now, and Caleb was heat on two legs, but she'd been h.o.r.n.y before and known lots of s.e.xy men, though she'd never before unconsciously stripped herself naked because some fantasy man caught her eye.

Hoping for an answer, Carolyn went into the library and began rummaging through her grandmother's desk. What she discovered shocked her even more. In the center drawer, she found pages and pages of handwritten spells; spells to find a lost object, a truth spell, a love spell and many more.

Okay, so Grandma was a nut. She believed herself to be a witch, as Sarah obviously does too. Believing herself a witch doesn't mean she was a witch with real powers or that these spells actually work. Standing, Carolyn wandered over to the bookshelves and browsed through the t.i.tles. She found sections on exotic roots and herbs, most of which she already owned, another on cults, witchcraft in particular, and more sections on spells, potions, and incantations.

Chester, who had been sunning himself on the room's only windowsill, jumped down, headed for the closet door, and began scratching away with a determined frenzy.

"What's gotten into you?" Carolyn asked. She opened the closet in order, curious as to the source of Chester's agitation. Antic.i.p.ating a mouse, all she found were shelves filled with old s...o...b..xes. Chester, however, only had eyes for one in particular.

Carolyn carried the box to the desk and cut the string holding the cover closed. Chester suddenly became uninterested and went back to the windowsill. Inside the box, she found a bundle of unopened letters tied with a red ribbon, all addressed to her mother. Opening the first letter, Carolyn noticed the date; she had been about three months old at the time.

Dearest Daughter, Please forgive me for the hateful things I said to you. The matter of who was right and who was wrong no longer concerns me. You followed your heart, as was your right. The harsh reality is, you are a single mother with limited resources. Please come home and allow me to help you raise your daughter. If you won't come home for me, or for yourself, come home for her. Doesn't she deserve all the opportunities and advantages I can provide her? Doesn't she possess the right to decide for herself if she wants to follow in her family heritage?

Your Loving mother, Ester Family heritage? She makes this sound as if we're from a long line of bankers or bakers. Does this mean my family tree is a walnut tree? Is my whole family nuts? I didn't think genetics allowed one to pa.s.s on delusions.

Carolyn read more letters, all written in the same vein as the first, with Ester pleading for her daughter to forgive her and come home. Every letter held the same stamp, 'Return to Sender'. Carolyn's mother never read a single one.

I loved Mom deeply, but she did have her faults. She would rather die than admit she made a mistake or needed help. Mom, why didn't you tell me? Did you think I would choose her over you?

Chester caught her attention by rubbing himself against her legs under the desk. Carolyn picked him up to scratch him behind his ears. Pacing back and forth in the large library, Carolyn said, "This still doesn't mean they were real witches who could cast spells or curses, does it? There is only one way to be sure, I'm going to try one of Grandmother's spells. If the spell works, then Mrs. Burns is right, and I guess I'm a witch too. You'll still love me if I'm a witch, won't you, Chester?"

Chester continued to purr while rubbing his chin against her arm. "Why can't people love as unconditionally as cats?"

Setting Chester down on an overstuffed, leather chair, Carolyn went back to the desk and sorted through her grandmother's spells. Finding the one she wanted, she said, "This will be the perfect test. I lost Mother's bracelet somewhere during the move, and I've searched everywhere. If this works, then I'll be a believer."

Carolyn read the spell several times then lit a candle she found alongside the papers in the desk drawer. Concentrating on the bracelet, she recited the words, "G.o.ddess of the Moon, hear me now and help me find that which I seek. I invoke the law of three so that what once was lost will now return to me."

Carolyn repeated the incantation two more times before extinguis.h.i.+ng the candle. Leaning back in the creaky chair, she said, "I guess all I can do now is to wait. I wonder how long one of these spells take?" Glancing at her watch, she jumped up, "I'm late! I promised Mags I'd meet her for lunch. Guard the house for me, okay Chester? I won't be gone long."

Carolyn whizzed into the Fillet o' Sole parking lot with minutes to spare. She spotted Maggie sitting at a table in the far corner, two gla.s.ses of white wine sitting on the table.

Maggie held her hands up defensively in front of her. "Before you start, I know this is the middle of the day and you don't normally drink, but I thought we should give your inheritance a proper toast."

"Don't apologize, Mags. After what I've just been through, I could use a drink."

"Why? What happened? Another dream I hope?"

Carolyn related all the weird goings-on she had, starting with last night's dream and her waking up to find her clothes tossed around the room, the upsetting visit from her new neighbor, Mrs. Burns, and all she had said about Carolyn's family.

"Wait a minute. Is that her name...Burns? I told you about the crazy old woman who comes in every week asking all kinds of personal questions about you, didn't I? You remember the one I mean? The real nebby nose? That old bat needs a new belfry to haunt."

"Yeah, I do remember you telling me, and I suppose she could be the same woman. But..."

"But what?"

"But, she made me think about all that's happened since I moved in, and what she said makes about as much sense as anything else I could imagine."

"There is a ghost in the house, I tell you-it's haunted. You should move out before something bad happens to you."

"I can't. I'll lose my inheritance if I do."

"Screw that. Your health is worth more than a few dollars. We're doing all right at the store, so money can't be the issue."

No, money is not the issue. The issue is my family. The house is all I have of a family I never knew. By living there, maybe I can find some connection; find my roots, as they say.

"Are you ready to order?" the waitress asked.

Carolyn hadn't notice her approach and came close to knocking over her wine gla.s.s when the waitress spoke. Without looking at a menu, she said, "Uh, yes. I'll have the special." Then, while Maggie ordered, Carolyn drained her wine in several quick swallows and ordered another.

Glancing around the mostly empty restaurant, and keeping her voice low, Carolyn continued. "I looked through my Grandmother's papers and I found a lot of handwritten spells."

"What kind of spells?"

"The usual, I guess. Love spells, truth spells, and a lot more. I even tried one," Carolyn confessed, feeling a little foolish when she said the words aloud.

"You're kidding? Why? Oh, before you tell me, I forgot to give this back to you. I found this in a box when I helped you pack. I simply had to borrow this for a date I had."

Reaching into her coat pocket, Maggie pulled out Carolyn's bracelet and returned the missing item to her. "I know I should have asked first, but I didn't think you'd mind for a couple days. Carolyn, are you all right? You're so pale."

"Mother's bracelet! I thought I lost this in the move. And you had it all along?"

Maggie's face turned to one of pure contrition. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I promise never to borrow anything again without asking first. Okay?"

"You don't understand, Mags. The spell I tried, it was a spell to find lost objects, and I'll be d.a.m.ned if it didn't work!"

Maggie's turn for the color to fade from her cheeks, she said a little too loudly, "You're s.h.i.+tting me?"

"Shh. Here comes the waitress with my drink. d.a.m.n, I should've ordered one a lot stronger. This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"I'll say," Maggie replied as she drained her drink. "What are you going to do now?"

"Another drink is definitely called for, then I think I should talk to Mrs. Burns some more."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, but thanks for offering."

Carolyn drove straight home after lunch. Not ready to face Sarah Burns yet, Carolyn wanted to set her mind straight first. Walking into the foyer, the mixed odors of wood polish, pine oil, and fresh floor wax a.s.saulted her nose. Carolyn opened a few windows to let in some fresh air then went out the rear door to explore her back yard while the house aired. She had been in the back once, at twilight, when Mr. Hargrove first showed her the house.

The screened-in back porch overlooked a cemented patio with a stone BBQ grill off to one side. Large concrete urns sat regally at the corners, a red brick path led away from the house and into the garden, ten-foot high hedges lined the path.

Carolyn removed her jacket to enjoy the warmth of the Indian summer afternoon. Strolling down the path, Carolyn turned her mind to her troubles.

Accepting she came from a family whose female offspring were all witches had been bizarre enough, but to believe in ghosts too? Could there really be a ghost haunting her dreams, or had Maggie been right about her hormones letting loose? As an insomniac dreams were foreign to her, a phenomenon other people had, not her. How could she interpret them? She couldn't see herself going to a shrink and telling him that every time she falls asleep, she makes love to a dead man she'd never met, that she has the hots for her great, great, great uncle. She'd be spending the rest of her life in a rubber room called Prozac City.

In addition, there were other things, small things, which made no sense to her at the time. The brewed coffee n.o.body made, Maggie's house warming gift dying overnight, and even Chester's behavior has been extremely odd since moving in.

She did know enough about witch folklore to know cats were a witches familiar, only what duties did they perform? Chester had been the one to find Ester's letters to her mother. How could he know they were in the closet, could it have been by simple chance? As for the sudden drafts of cold air and the occasional odd noises, Carolyn attributed them to the house's severe age, but then again...?

Face it, girl, what's really bothering you is you've fallen for a three-hundred year old cheater. Boy, can you pick 'em.

The path split several times and at each branch, Carolyn instinctively went inward, toward the center, as if something drew her. She also had the feeling of deja vu. Abruptly, the path widened into a small courtyard with a familiar looking fountain in the center. The round, marble pool contained dirt, twigs, and dry, brittle leaves instead of water. Sitting on one of the wrought iron benches surrounding the fountain, Carolyn stifled a yawn as she compared her dream fountain to this one and concluded they were one and the same.

But, how could they be the same? I've never been here in all my life. How could I know what this fountain looked like to put it in a dream? Perhaps my hormones didn't go wild after all? But, is that good or bad?

Closing her eyes against the bright afternoon sun, Carolyn drifted into a sound sleep. The musical splas.h.i.+ng of falling water from the fountain made her open them again. Caleb stared at her through the mist. His coat thrown over his shoulder, he brushed a dangling mop of hair back into place. He walked toward her, his stride a s.e.xy, confident swagger. Her pulse racing, yet fearing what would happen if he got too close, Carolyn thrust out her hand and said, "Stop. We need to talk."

"Whatever you want, beloved," he said, stopping short.

"You're Caleb Harrison?"

"You know who I am, sweetheart."

"I'm not your sweetheart. My name is Carolyn, not Caroline. She is my...Aunt. I only look like her."

Confusion reigned supreme on Caleb's face, but Carolyn pressed on. "I hate to be the one to tell you, but did you know you're dead?"

"Dead? How can I be dead? What about last night?" Caleb asked; his arms spread wide, indicating the garden. "Here, in our special place?

"For me, you are only a dream. A very pleasant dream, I admit, but only a dream. Now ask yourself this, where did you go afterward? What did you do?"

"I...I do not remember."

"You don't remember because you're dead and you only come alive when I'm sleeping." Which means, I'm asleep right now, and he isn't really standing in front of me? So why do I want to run over to him and wrap my body around his?

"How? How did I die?"

"You don't remember Caroline catching you with the servant girl?"

Caleb rubbed the nape of his neck. "Yes, vaguely."

"Well, your dearest Caroline poisoned you then cursed you to roam this property until you could prove your innocence, if you could."

"But I am innocent, I tell you. That wench of a maid had been making advances at me for months, and avoiding her became harder and harder. I had made up my mind to ask Caroline to dismiss her and her good for nothing husband when...?"

"What happened that night?" Carolyn prompted.

Rubbing his neck harder, Caleb said, "I remember I had some important papers to go over, and I did not want to be disturbed. I went into the study and locked the door behind me. I recall pouring myself a cup of tea and...and? I cannot remember anything more until the following morning when Caroline came in."

"Are you sure you locked the door?"

"Yes, I am positive I did."

"Then how did the door become unlocked for her to walk in without you opening the door? Did Caroline have a key?"

"No. I had the only key."

"If you had the only key, how did Caroline enter the library in the morning, and how did the maid get in there before her?"

Caleb shook his head. "I cannot conceive of a plausible answer. There is only the one door and window and I kept them both locked. If I had fallen asleep, I would have awakened if anyone tried to break in. I am ...was... a light sleeper."

"Unless, you had been drugged."

"Drugged? How?"

"Who made the tea?"

"Why, Ellie, of course."

"Ellie was the maid?"

"Yes. I do believe Ellie was obsessed with me, but why would she do such a despicable deed? To what gain?"

"She was a woman in love. Maybe she thought once you slept with her, your sense of honor would force you to change your mind and divorce Carolyn?"

Outrage clouded Caleb's face. "Never. On my honor, I tell you, I did not sleep with that wench."

"How can you know for sure? You admit you have no memory of what happened. Even if you hadn't slept with her, she did create enough doubt that you had. Nevertheless, I think all we need to do is to show how Ellie got into the library."

"We?"

"Yes, Caleb. You and me. If you don't mind?" Her cheeks turned red as an apple as she smiled shyly, "I admit I've become quite attracted to you, and I'd like to help lift this curse you're under."

Caleb came closer, went down on one knee, taking her hand in his. Jolts of electrified pa.s.sion shot through Carolyn's arm, straight to her heart. "No, I do not mind," he said. "In truth, last night, even though I expected you to be my Caroline, somehow, deep inside, I knew you were not her, and yet, I found myself drawn to you in a way I never had been to her."

Carolyn withdrew her hand before his touch drove her to do something she wasn't yet ready for, no matter how much her body screamed, "Yes! Take me!"