Summer Magic

by Lorraine Bartlett

  "Do you realize we had no vision when we touched?" Ellie asked. "Does that mean the curse is broken and we'll never see them again?"

  For a moment, she was sad. She'd gotten used to the mystery.

  "Neither of us was holding a stone," Drew whispered into her hair.

  "We weren't holding one that first night in the Manor."

  "I had it in my pocket. I didn't know it caused the vision until later."

  "Where is it now?" she asked.

  Pushing her back a moment, he looked around. Both of them spied it at the same time. Without a word, they went to it. Drew picked it up. Ellie put her hand over his, touching the rough surface. It was warm but not hot. When Ellie moved her hand, the proof lay in his palm. Both looked down on two red rubies as large as the rough edged stones had been—proof that all was well in both their worlds.

  As they stood with the sun at the horizon, the couple appeared. They stood together, in the same position as Ellie and Drew, their arms around each other as if they'd just shared a kiss. Words weren't necessary. The captain and his lady looked across time and smiled at the two of them. Then they turned and walked on the clouds until they disappeared into the brightness of the rising sun.

  "Finally, they're happy," Ellie whispered, her heart full of love for ancestors she was sure would spend eternity in happiness.

  "And we're happy, too," Drew said. "But we have to make sure nothing ever changes for them and for us."

  Ellie lowered her eyes and stared at him. "And how do we do that?"

  Drew put his arm around her. "By being the happiest couple on earth."

  "Is that a proposal?" she asked.

  "Absolutely. I love you—have since I first saw you in my dream state."

  "We've only known each other a week. How can we be in love?" she asked logically.

  "Our world is different," Drew confessed. "Before last week, I'd have agreed with you that we needed more time to get to know each other. But..."

  "But..." she prompted.

  "Captain Warwick and Lady Jane assured us."

  Ellie nodded. "I understand. They could be sure of us and that freed them of the curse."

  "And that proves you love me," Drew stated.

  "I love you," she said. "My world is different. I can't imagine it without you."

  "I know the feeling," Drew said.

  He tightened his arm around her waist. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and together they watched the day dawn.

  THE END

  About Shirley Hailstock

  Shirley Hailstock began her writing life as a lover of reading. She likes nothing better than to find a quiet corner where she can get lost in a book, explore new worlds and visit places she never expected to see. As an author, she can not only visit those places, but she can be the heroine of her own stories.

  Other Places to Catch a Glimpse of Shirley

  @shirleyhailstock

  shirleyhailstockfan

  shirleyhailstock.net

  Honeymoon with a Ghost — Kelly Mcclymer

  a Tale from Blythe Cove Manor

  * * *

  by

  * * *

  Kelly McClymer

  Copyright © 2015 by Kelly McClymer.

  All rights reserved.

  A heartbroken bride is determined to find the truth. Can the magic of Blythe Cove Manor help her?

  Abandoned at the airport by her husband of only a day, Emily Stephens arrives at Blythe Cove Manor on a mission. She wants to explore the childhood home of her missing husband and find out the truth behind the man who swept her off her feet and then disappeared without a trace. Will the truth shatter her already broken heart? Or help her heal?

  1

  When Emily saw the Blythe Cove Manor B&B for the first time, it was as if Sean was standing there, whispering his description of it in her ear. Some places seem like they’ve been standing there forever, don’t they? Blythe Cove Manor is like that. You’ll see when we get there. You’ll feel as if you’ve come home at last, just like I do.

  He hadn’t lied. Not about that. Blythe Cove Manor looked as if it had been standing vigil over the cove since time began. Not in a derelict kind of way, but in an ancient, wise, and omniscient way. Despite the brochure she held clutched tight in her hand, she’d almost thought Sean had spun it up out of thin air, like he had so many of the things he had told her.

  See how the light in that back window looks so warm and inviting, love? That’ll be our room. The Honeymoon Suite.

  For a long moment she stood still, looking at the house with its warmly lit windows. The brochure hadn’t done it justice. No brochure could capture the way the light glimmered, or the smells of the ocean. Or the sounds, either.

  You wait and see. You’ll never want to leave. This peaceful spot by the ocean is the place your heart has always yearned for.

  She couldn’t see the ocean in the dark, but she could hear it, hear the movement of the waves over the shore. There was something about the sound that called to her. For the first time, her Midwestern land-locked heart understood the whole mermaid/siren thing about the sea.

  She could totally see herself leaving her suitcase, backpack and purse piled on the neat stone path, following the call of the sea until she was in so deep there was no way back. Just like she’d followed the sound of Sean’s smooth lies like a fool unaware she was headed for a world of pain and embarrassment.

  Even knowing Sean had lied to her about everything else, the call of the sea still stirred her blood. She went as far as to see how her purse balanced on the top of the new suitcase she had bought just for this occasion. How her worn backpack slipped neatly over the handle of the suitcase, almost, but not quite unbalancing it as it stood stalwart, holding her most important items, the things that she would have put into a hope chest a century ago.

  Hope. That was what Sean had given her. The same hope she’d given the couples whose weddings she’d planned to perfection, never believing she’d have the same happiness that her couples — most of them — had seemed to have found.

  Always the planner. Never the bride. Someone will have to change that attitude, Miss Pepperell.

  The sound of the waves crashing to shore demanded that she come to play, and she almost left everything and went, then and there.

  In the second’s hesitation before she answered the call, her backpack settled infinitesimally, shifting its weight to the left. The suitcase tipped in reaction. Emily saw the suitcase start to fall over, considered not catching it, but instinctively her hand reached out and grabbed at the handle, stabilizing everything.

  Blythe Cove Manor watched her, awaiting her decision patiently and without judgment. No. The sea would have to wait. She had questions that needed answers.

  Like the sea, the house seemed to call to her. Instead of the seductive call of the ocean, though, the house promised comfort and welcome with the warm glow of windows.

  One window in particular drew her attention. The memory of his voice was silk against her ear. Maybe the sea spoke for him? That’ll be our room. The Honeymoon Suite.

  She closed her eyes and let the late August breeze blow through her long hair.

  She could almost believe that Sean waited for her there, just behind the glow. Almost believe that he would wrap her in his embrace and tell her that the last two days had just been one horrible mistake.

  She shook off the foolish thought, acknowledging reality, as she preferred to do. She could have been happy here at Blythe Cove Manor on her honeymoon. She would have been happy here. If things had been different. If Sean had been who he said he was.

  Her phone rang, deep inside her purse. Emily plunged one hand down and fished around to find it. Without trying to take it out of her purse, she thumbed it off.

  Decided on her course of action, Emily moved forward, toward the house with the warm windows. She wheeled her suitcase awkwardly on the stone path, adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, focused on the house and the secrets she meant
to uncover—one at a time—unwrapping them like cherished wedding presents until none remained shrouded in mystery and all was revealed.

  That’ll be our room. The Honeymoon Suite.

  “Right.” She couldn’t help but wonder what other lies he’d told her.

  She reached the stoop with the worn stone step that led her to the front door. Led her to the truth.

  She squared her shoulders, lifted the suitcase up and placed it firmly on the worn stone. Then she reached for the door, refusing to fear what she would find behind it.

  That was why she was here. To find out the ugly truth underneath all the beautiful lies. Then she would turn her back on Sean, and the sea, forever.

  2

  You’ll love it at Blythe Cove Manor. We’ll be cradled by the sea for a full week and you’ll be a mermaid in no time at all.

  The solid paneled door with the warmly glowing sidelights moved easily under her hand. The door swung open silently, well-oiled, well cared-for. It gave way to reveal a spacious entryway, decorated with cherished antiques. A discreet sign pointed the way to where she needed to register.

  The hush of her steps on the cushy runner made Emily smile. The smile felt odd, as if she had forgotten how until her feet had sunk into the plush of the carpet and reminded her that life was not for those who could not stop and smile at something as simple as the silent give of carpet under the feet.

  She felt like a ghost — invisible, soundless, with the singular purpose that only the dead could afford.

  She heard sounds. A young woman’s high, soft giggle. A young man’s cajoling pleas.

  She stopped moving, not daring to turn the corner and break the spell the house had cast upon her. She did not want to be visible. Visibility meant harsh lights, harsh truths, things she did not want to face. Things she did not want to say — at least, not aloud.

  Emily stilled and listened more closely, hoping to hear the voices fade, indicating people passing by, not lingering at the reception desk. The man’s voice became clearer, “Are you sure you don’t have any room at all?”

  A sympathetic, but firm woman’s voice replied, “Only the single room, I’m afraid. It isn’t really suitable for a couple. I can call some of the other inns to see if anyone else has room.”

  Emily’s heart sank when she became certain that, yes, there were people there at the registration desk, ahead of her. She had hoped to glide in quietly, to register almost without making a ripple on Blythe Cove Manor’s surface.

  The young woman who had giggled sighed wistfully. “I don’t mind sharing a smaller bed with you.”

  “Has everyone already checked in?” The man asked, not giving up. “Maybe you’ll have a no-show in one of the larger rooms.”

  “Everyone but the honeymoon couple I’m expecting. And I’ve had no word that their plans have changed.”

  Emily wondered if she’d had a lapse in etiquette not to call ahead and warn the B&B owner that one half of the honeymoon couple had disappeared. Worse, had never really existed. No, she decided. The less said on that matter, the better.

  The young woman had not given up on the idea of getting a room. “I really had my heart set on Blythe Cove Manor. It was where my Gran honeymooned with my Grandpa. I wanted magic to start our lives, since we couldn’t have a real wedding. And my Gran swore this place was magic.”

  Emily startled. Sean’s words came to her unbidden, in a bitter rush. The place is magic, Emily. And you deserve nothing less than to honeymoon in the most magical place in the world.

  Emily had never thought she wanted magic until she met Sean. He’d made her want magic. Had made her believe she had found it. But that was not to be. For a moment she hung there, caught in the ghost moment, thinking maybe to disappear, or at the very least, turn and leave as quietly as she had arrived. She knew she did not want to round the corner and be face-to-face with young lovers who still believed in magic.

  She comforted herself with the thought that the couple would not be staying at Blythe Cove Manor, and she would not have to look at them, but the urge to stay in her private bubble until they were gone kept her rooted to the floor. Maybe this was a sign that she should forget digging for the painful truth, and just go home and start over, as if Sean had never been.

  “We can have magic somewhere else,” the young man said, confidently.

  The young woman was silent.

  To Emily’s surprise, the young man sighed and said, “Okay. We’ll take the small room.” He added wistfully, “Maybe the honeymoon couple will miss their flight.”

  Emily realized that she was the honeymoon couple. She had the power to turn around and disappear, making the young man’s wish come true.

  She could stay anywhere in Martha’s Vineyard and look for the truth. She didn’t need to stay in the magic Blythe Cove Manor. As a wedding planner, she had spent her life making wedding couple’s dreams come true. Why not one more, even if they never knew?

  And then a cat appeared from around a shadowed corner, brushed against Emily’s leg, and stopped to purr and rub up against her jeans.

  Emily bent and whispered, “Hey, you. What are you doing here?” She rubbed under the cat’s chin, enjoying the sound of a cat simply enjoying itself.

  A startled exclamation came from the area of the registration desk. The young woman peeked around the corner. “There is someone here,” she said. “Hello.” She smiled at Emily, an open, honest, happy smile that put another crack in Emily’s heart.

  “Hello.” Emily smiled back, knowing her smile was only a ghost of what it had been before her wedding day had shattered into a million fragments. She accepted that the house had captured her. She straightened, adjusted her backpack on her shoulder and rounded the corner, entering into the light of the reception area.

  The cat followed her, rubbing against her leg once before leaping up to the registration desk to greet her mistress.

  “Ah, the honeymoon couple has arrived,” said the proprietress. “I’m Blythe.” She smiled and stroked the cat. “And this is Martha, named after the vineyard of course.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Emily said dutifully, having learned long ago that it was best to compliment all pets and children in order to keep good will.

  Blythe looked behind her expectantly. After an awkward pause, she asked, “Is Mr. Stephens parking the car?”

  “Mr. Stephens will not be arriving.” Emily answered. “I’m checking in alone.” She’d decided she would say as little as she had to about the situation. It was no one else’s business. Besides, the words were jammed deep inside her throat, and she doubted she could get them out if she tried.

  “Would you mind switching rooms with us, then?” The young man asked promptly.

  The girl looked at him in surprise, making a murmur of distress. “I’m so sorry. Please ignore him. He’s just trying to make me happy. He didn’t realize how that sounded. I’m so sorry. I’m Annie, and this is my…my husband Jason.” Her cheeks flushed when she said the word husband. Emily had seen so many brides try out the new word and have the same reaction. Including herself.

  The young woman’s new husband blanched as he realized what he had said. “Yes. Of course. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

  Emily looked at the young man cooly, “Don’t be, Jason. I’m not.”

  She turned her attention to Blythe, and said, “I heard the dilemma while I was being greeted by Martha. I’m happy to take the smaller room.”

  “How gracious of you,” Blythe answered. Emily could tell she was bursting with questions, but thankfully none were forthcoming.

  Instead, the innkeeper took out two old fashioned room keys with large shells dangling from their chains. “Let me just sort out the extra room, and all the paperwork and I’ll have you in your rooms before you can say Jack Robinson.”

  3

  The innkeeper, Blythe, led them to a small waiting parlor with, if Emily’s eyes did not deceive her, an antique Victorian sideboard flanked by several small cush
ioned chairs. “Please, help yourself to tea. We have scones and muffins left over from this morning. We make them fresh every day on the Manor’s prized Aga stove. You’re welcome to them, too.”

  Jason grabbed a muffin as if he hadn’t eaten all day. “Thank you.”

  Annie removed the cozy and touched the teapot in gentle appreciation. “Look how beautiful. One day we’ll have one of these.”

  Emily noticed Annie’s hand didn’t have a wedding ring. A quick check of Jason’s hands indicated he did not wear one either.

  She didn’t move her eyes away quickly enough, because Annie blushed again and said, “We decided to have a honeymoon instead of wedding rings.”

  “Adventure over bling,” Jason added, between bites of muffin. “That’s what we’re going to choose for our future.”

  Annie smiled at him with the same smile Emily had seen on countless brides. It was a smile that said, “You are a clueless idiot, but I love you anyway.” Annie turned her eyes away from her husband and gave Emily a conspiratorial look. “We don’t need rings to know we’re committed to each other. A magical honeymoon is much more sensible for us.”

  Sensible magic. That sounded like something Sean would say. Emily smiled politely, hoping that Blythe would be as quick as she promised. The cat wound its way around Emily’s ankle as she sat, waiting to reach the sanctuary of her room and put this horrible day behind her.

  Jason fed a bite of muffin to his wife and she held the cup up to his lips. He curled his nose at the strong, unsweetened tea his wife had brewed. Annie laughed. “Don’t tell me you take sugar in your tea.”