by Cindy Stark
The sight of such elegant beauty instantly charmed her.
Peter drove along the lane beneath a sentry of tall trees and past a nice-sized greenhouse. He continued until they reached a drive that circled near the front of the house. “This is it.”
Hazel admired the stately mansion surrounded by meticulous lawns, interspersed with gardens now blooming with iris, Lenten rose, and grape hyacinth. Madeline’s home was incredible. “You didn’t tell me your aunt was wealthy.”
“I guess I don’t think of her that way. She’s just Aunt Madeline to me.”
Hazel soaked in the beauty of her surroundings. If she didn’t love Stonebridge and her dear old house so much, she might hope to live in Sandpiper Bay someday.
Peter continued up the wide, cement drive and parked near a sparkling fountain. A hundred yards or so away, a smaller version of the home sat nestled in the pines.
Hazel finally smiled. “Is that where we’re staying?”
“Yep. It’s all ours.”
Peter killed the engine, and the front door of the house opened. A slender, well-manicured woman perhaps in her mid-sixties emerged. His aunt, if that’s who she was, wore gray slacks and a soft lavender cashmere sweater over an ivory blouse. She’d pulled her silver hair into a wispy updo, giving her a soft, feminine appearance. A smile erupted on her face as she strode toward them.
Warmth filled Hazel, and she relaxed. This would be okay.
This time Hazel did wait for Peter to open her door. Before he could reach her side of the car, Madeline intercepted Peter and threw her arms around her nephew for a big hug.
Their affection for each other ran deep.
Peter released his aunt and opened Hazel’s door. She stepped out.
A stiff breeze blew her hair about her face, and she had to wrangle it under control with a fist.
The smile Madeline had for Peter remained in place, but now that they were face-to-face, Hazel sensed something in the shadows behind it.
“You must be Hazel.”
Before Hazel could respond, Madeline enveloped her in a swift hug that left Hazel surrounded by rose-scented perfume.
Madeline pulled away and studied her, which gave Hazel the opportunity to do the same. Her perfect makeup couldn’t quite disguise the age lines that appeared around her eyes when she smiled. But she was beautiful, nonetheless. Bright green eyes, reminiscent of Peter’s, shone with intelligence.
A lovely woman, for sure, even if she did appear to be hiding something.
Hazel curved her lips into a warm smile. “Yes, I’m Hazel, and you must be Aunt Madeline that Peter talks so fondly of.”
Madeline narrowed her gaze at Peter. “Did he pay you to say that?”
The woman’s response surprised her. “No, he...”
Peter and Madeline both chuckled, interrupting her.
He wrapped an arm around Hazel’s shoulders and squeezed. “You’ll have to forgive my aunt. She likes to tease.”
Hazel released a relieved breath and worked to tune into what she felt as opposed to what she saw. Her feelings were often a better indicator of the people and places around her, and although his aunt seemed like a wonderful lady, there was something not quite right.
Madeline sent her a warm smile. “Sorry, yes, Peter is right. I do like to tease.”
The older woman chuckled. “Speaking of tease, I hear you are the owner of a popular teashop in Stonebridge.”
Tease…teas? Hazel supposed that worked. “Yes, it’s my pride and joy. I adore concocting different teas and making my customers smile. In fact, I brought some for you to try.”
Hazel paused. “Assuming you like tea.”
Madeline opened her hands wide. “I love tea. Absolutely love it and can’t wait to try yours. I have an exquisite tea set from the colonial period that we can use. I rarely get the chance to pull it out for an official tea ceremony.”
Her enthusiasm cast Hazel’s worries by the wayside. Serving tea in a genuine colonial teapot would be incredible. “I can’t wait to show them to you. One is my new Spring Cherry Sencha that I just created this year. It’s a lovely green tea with cherries, peonies, and white paklum.”
Peter’s aunt lifted her brows high. “Sounds absolutely delicious.”
Pride in her craft stoked Hazel’s spirit. “Let me get them.”
She snatched the key fob from Peter’s hand and turned toward the car with a spring in her step. Her jacket billowed about in the wind, and finally, she was glad she’d come.
With a smile on her face, she popped the trunk. She reached for her suitcase and was startled by a pair of bright green eyes peeking from behind their luggage.
She froze.
Mr. Kitty stared back.
Oh no. This wasn’t happening. The wonderful ground she’d just established with Peter’s aunt might disappear in a blink if Hazel’s cat popped out of the car. Who brought a cat with them on vacation?
A witch.
One that she wasn’t about to let give her heritage away.
Hazel quickly slammed the trunk before Mr. Kitty could escape. An angry meow followed.
Peter and Madeline looked at her with questions in their eyes.
Hazel offered a quick smile as she returned empty-handed. “I just realized I put the box with the teas at the bottom of my suitcase. I can get it later.”
Peter frowned in confusion. “I thought I heard…”
“A cat,” Madeline finished.
Hazel linked her arm through Peter’s. “Really? That’s odd.”
Peter studied her, obviously trying to read her mind. “Or I could get the suitcases now.”
“No,” she said cutting him off. She tightened her grip on his arm, hoping he’d get a clue regarding her dilemma. “I’d much rather see the house and these gorgeous grounds first. We can get them later.”
Madeline clapped her hands together. “Sounds like a grand idea. I would love to show you around.”
Two
Hazel held tight to Peter while his aunt led them across the wide brick driveway, toward the stately, colonial home. She was afraid if she let go, he’d try to return to the car to retrieve their suitcases, and she couldn’t let that happen. Mr. Kitty would likely be in a dark mood after the hours-long ride to Maine and then from not being let out immediately, but that was his own fault.
Besides, he was always good at finding his way in or out of places. Hazel had expected that was because he was good at locating small entrances or exits, not because he had superpowers. Hazel bit her bottom lip as Madeline led them into the big house. Maybe Mr. Kitty had more magical powers than she realized.
The quiet beauty of the home stole her attention, and her gaze wandered over the gorgeous hardwood floors that led farther into the house. Period furniture graced most of the rooms, interspersed with more modern pieces. Nearly all the rooms had fireplaces and mantles decorated with candlesticks, paintings, and other items from an era gone by.
So far, her favorite thing in the house was the old piano in the front parlor. Then she entered the formal dining room and widened her eyes in excitement. She released Peter’s arm and strode toward the ancient grandfather clock holding court at the far end of the room. “Oh, my goodness. The intricate carving on this is incredible, and the detail on the clock face...”
Hazel experienced a tingling vibe, followed by an overwhelming sense of a male presence in the room. Nothing malevolent. Just a presence.
Interesting, nonetheless.
She shook off the feeling and continued speaking. “It’s an exceptionally beautiful piece.”
Madeline chuckled and bustled toward her. “Georgian Period. Brought over on a ship from England, and one of my favorite things in the whole house. Charles and I fell in love with it and insisted it become part of the deal when we purchased the estate all those years ago. Luckily, the owners agreed that it belonged here.”
Peter approached and placed a hand on the small of Hazel’s back. She loved it when he touched her.
“My Uncle Charles passed ten years ago.”
Passed to the other side, but perhaps not completely gone from the house, Hazel thought. She offered Madeline a kind smile. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
A look of sadness crossed the older woman’s face but then disappeared. “Thank you. I have to admit it was difficult for several years afterward, but I’ve come to believe that those we love never truly leave us.”
Hazel nodded. A distinct possibility.
A whisper of something brushed past her and fluttered the tips of her hair. She met Madeline’s gaze, and the woman gave her a knowing look.
Hazel said nothing. Admitting she sensed ghosts was the first step toward his aunt learning she was a witch.
They continued the tour, and Hazel counted seven bedrooms and almost that many bathrooms. It seemed like a lot of space for one woman. When they reached the back sunroom and the end of the tour, Hazel turned to Peter’s aunt. “Do you live here alone, Madeline?”
The woman’s face brightened. “Oh, no. Of course not. Tracy, my housekeeper and cook, uses a couple of the rooms upstairs. We didn’t go into her spaces. Tracy’s oldest grandson Liam stayed with us last summer before he went off to college. Then there are always old friends or other family members who come to visit.”
Peter chuckled. “If you’re worried about her being lonely in this big old house, don’t. Aunt Madeline is one of the busiest women I know. If she’s not hosting a weekly card game, then she’s volunteering for one thing or another in the community.”
Madeline blushed and grinned at her nephew. “You know me too well.”
“I know you well enough that we’ve probably taken up too much of your time this morning and should let you get on with your day. We’ll unpack, and then I was thinking of taking Hazel for lobster rolls at that new restaurant you’d mentioned last year.”
The older woman’s expression dropped. “Oh, no. You’re not an imposition. I actually had Tracy prepare lunch for us today.”
She glanced between Peter and Hazel. “Her wicked good clam chowder and blueberry pie,” she said with a hopeful expression. “Also, there’s something I wanted to ask you about, Peter.”
A reminder of Madeline’s initial impression on Hazel returned. Perhaps that was the source of the lady’s odd energy Hazel had noticed when they’d first arrived. Madeline had something she wanted to discuss, and Hazel sensed it would be a serious matter.
Hazel faced her husband who looked at her with raised brows, and she knew they couldn’t disappoint their hostess. She took Peter’s hand and squeezed it before turning to Madeline. “I would love to try Tracy’s clam chowder.”
Madeline clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. I’ll have Tracy make final preparations now.”
Hazel knew they probably should free Mr. Kitty first. “If it’s all right, I wouldn’t mind a few minutes to unpack and freshen up.”
Peter nodded in agreement. “I do want to get those suitcases out.”
Only to see what she’d been so eager to conceal, Hazel was sure.
Madeline glanced at a cherrywood wall clock. “Will twenty minutes give you enough time?”
“It should,” Peter offered, and then snagged a key from one of the hooks near the back door. He held it up. “Still the right one?”
Madeline laughed, obviously pleased. “Yes, that’s the one for your bungalow.”
Bungalow? Hazel smiled at the name Madeline had given the smaller dwelling to the side of the big house.
Peter nodded and grasped the knob on the back door. “We’ll head out this way. I know Hazel would love to catch a glimpse of your gardens.”
“Oh, absolutely,” she responded. “Not to mention the greenhouse, too.”
Madeline grinned. “Glimpse? We’ll give you a full tour while you’re here if you’re interested. The greenhouse was the pride and joy of my Charles.”
Excitement danced inside Hazel. As an earth witch, she loved nothing more than communing with Mother Earth’s plants. “That would be wonderful.”
Peter opened the door for her, and Hazel startled at the sight of a ginger cat sitting just outside. She stumbled backward into Peter, and Mr. Kitty released a loud meow, letting her know exactly what he thought about being shut in the trunk.
“Oh, dear,” Madeline said and pushed her way to the front of the group. “What do we have here? A lost kitty?”
Mortified, Hazel jerked her gaze to her husband. Peter drew his brows together in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, and Hazel quickly shook her head.
Madeline crouched and held a hand toward the cat. “Look at you, sweet thing. Where did you come from?”
Hazel shook her head in disbelief. Peter shrugged, letting her know he was also at a loss at how to handle the situation. Most couples didn’t bring their magical cat with them on vacation. Most couples didn’t have a magical cat, period.
Madeline glanced up at her and Peter. “He doesn’t look like he’s starving. Maybe he just got lost.”
Hazel gave several quick nods. “Cats are very smart. I’m sure he’ll find his way home.”
Peter’s aunt scooped up Mr. Kitty and stepped out onto the porch. “You kids run along and unpack, and I’ll send this one on its way, too.”
Hazel followed Madeline, and when the older woman wasn’t looking, she glared at her kitty.
Peter followed Hazel and took her hand. “We will see you in a bit.”
They both hesitated, and Hazel figured Peter was probably waiting for his aunt to return inside, too, so they could claim their cat. When seconds ticked by and his aunt hadn’t released Mr. Kitty, they had to move or risk an awkward confrontation.
“Might want to wash your hands after holding the cat,” Hazel offered, hoping Madeline would release Mr. Kitty. “You never know what kinds of germs it might be carrying.”
Mr. Kitty narrowed his eyes at Hazel and released a low growl.
Madeline tsked. “Oh, now look. You’ve insulted the poor kitty. It seems healthy. I’m sure it’s totally fine.”
To prove her point, Madeline placed a quick kiss on top of Mr. Kitty’s head.
The feline began to purr and sent Hazel a smug look.
Hazel saved her look of disgust until after she turned and headed across the porch and down the stairs. Perhaps if Peter and she left, her shameful cat would follow.
Peter caught up with her and then called over his shoulder to his aunt. “See you soon.”
When they were out of hearing distance, he tugged hard on her hand. “What on God’s green earth was that? Why would you bring him with?”
“On goddess’s green earth,” she corrected. “And I didn’t. I had no idea he’d hidden in the trunk until I opened it.”
Concern glinted in Peter’s eyes. “What can we do? If he keeps roaming, he’ll get himself lost in the surrounding woods.”
She sighed. “It would serve him right if he did.”
When they reached the trunk and Peter opened it, she turned to her husband. “He’ll be fine. He always is. We just need to figure out a way to keep your aunt from learning that he belongs to us.”
Peter sent her a look of disbelief. “It’s not like he can talk.”
Hazel considered his words. Mr. Kitty had been able to communicate with her in his own way. What if he could with Madeline, too? “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Peter removed their suitcases and then slammed the trunk shut. “I guess we carry on as usual and not worry, then.”
Hazel nodded, knowing things with Mr. Kitty were never that simple. “I suppose that’ll have to be the plan for now.”
She sighed. “I think we might need to plan for something else, too.”
He carried both suitcases as they headed toward the cozy bungalow. “What do you mean?”
Hazel glanced at him while trepidation built inside her. “I sense that whatever your aunt wants to tell you is not something you’ll like.”
Three
Peter escorted Haze
l back to the main house for lunch, and she continually scanned the lush grounds, looking for the rogue Mr. Kitty. She had a few choice words for the sneaky feline when she saw him next. Of course, she’d appreciated all the help he’d given her during the past year, but she couldn’t allow him to ruin the budding relationship with Madeline.
Peter’s aunt may or may never accept her for a witch, but now was not the time to test the outcome. She liked the older woman that Peter had often referred to as the official mother figure of his childhood. Madeline had cheered him on when Peter’s own mother couldn’t be bothered, and Hazel valued that.
When they reached the back door, she tugged on Peter’s arm, forcing him to halt. “I can’t spot that wily bugger anywhere, can you?”
He sighed. “Not a hair of him.”
Then Peter gave her a gentle smile. “Try not to worry, Hazel. He’ll be fine. You told me he’s a resourceful cat, remember?”
“That’s what I’m worried about. Who knows what he’s up to and what he’ll do next?”
Peter twisted the old-fashioned knob on the exterior of the sunroom door and held the door open for her. With no other choice, she stepped inside. For now, all she could do was enjoy the lovely luncheon prepared for them.
The formal dining room had been transformed during the short time they were away. Fine china place settings occupied four of the ten spaces at the gorgeous cherrywood table. The fresh tulips that had been in the center had been relegated to a side cabinet. A soup tureen matching the china and large basket of fresh cornbread muffins now sat centerstage.
The delicious smells that had tantalized Hazel’s stomach during their tour now sent her tummy on a wild rampage. Peter slid a questioning glance in her direction, and she shrugged. “Fair warning. If I don’t eat soon, I might faint.”
Peter chuckled. “A bit overdramatic, Mrs. Parrish.”
That might have been a slight exaggeration, but she was ravenous. “I say let’s not find out.”
His aunt entered the room before Peter could reply. She carried a bowl of green salad.