A Sneak Peek at Bones of the Witch, Earth Magic Rises, Book 1
(Missed Chapter 1? Read it here)
The sound of men’s laughter roused me from unconsciousness. I’d been dreaming I was still in Poland and thought maybe I’d wake to find myself in one of the Novak’s luxurious beds. My eyes drifted open and I saw a striped single bed and a mid-century dresser with the top drawer slid open. Blinking and disoriented, I sat up. Only the sight of my luggage, open and rifled through, brought back my memory. I was in the highlands and one of the voices outside the window was Jasher’s.
My stomach gave a grumble as though chastising me for not getting up earlier. Grabbing my phone, I looked at the screen and gaped in disbelief. It was past noon! The soft light coming in the window was deceptive; it was so dim it seemed like early morning.
Peeking out the window revealed smudges of green through warped glass. I opened the window farther and caught a glimpse of rolling treed hills and an expanse of blue-grey on the horizon––the North Sea. The clouds were thick and the color of gunmetal. I was surprised it wasn’t raining already. The air smelled thick with ozone, rich earth and…yes, roses, unbelievably. I took a big inhale, sighing with pleasure. Scotland might be cold, but it certainly smelled lovely. It struck me as odd since it was now early March. What roses bloomed this early in the year, and this far north?
Scrambling for the shower, I hurriedly washed and dressed, throwing my long hair up in a topknot. Pulling on a pair of jeans and a plain cashmere sweater, I grabbed my running shoes and a rain slicker before finding my way to the stairwell Jasher had led me up the night before. Just before I got to the top of the stairs, I remembered that I wanted to find Jasher’s letter, and skidded to a halt. Returning to my room, I dug in my luggage for where I kept paperwork. Retrieving a thin pile of documents, I rifled through until I found it.
“Aha!” I cried victoriously. Skimming the letter, I looked for the paragraph where Jasher invited me to come stay at Blackmouth. I read it over a second, and a third time, my stomach plummeting.
How could it not be there? I had read it; I would stake my life on it. I never would have come to Scotland without being invited. Feeling poleaxed, I sat on the floor with my back against the side of my bed, staring at the letter in my lap.
I didn’t know how long I sat there like that, but when my butt began to hurt from sitting on the stone floor, I got up and tucked the letter back into my luggage. Totally bemused.,I had to admit that I had misread the letter, but everything in me rebelled against it because I knew what I knew: I’d been invited. Either something very weird was going on, or I was going mad. Refusing to think too hard on that, I tucked the letter away and pushed it out of my mind. Letting my luggage drop closed, I left my room for the second time that morning, this time with a little humility in my step.
Women’s voices in conversation drifted up the stairs. I slowed my pace and swallowed, wondering if Jasher had told the castle staff that I was here yet. Following the sounds of chatter, I came upon a ground-level kitchen where two women bustled about and two children sat at a long wooden table. The kitchen looked like something from a movie set if the film hadn’t yet decided which time period it was to be set in.
A big iron soup vat sat over a deep stone fireplace. Copper cooking pots, pans, and utensils hung from the mantel. Dried herbs dangled from the thick beam overhead, making the room smell like rosemary and oregano. A mid-century gas stove with six burners sat opposite the fireplace, beside a squat fridge without any straight edges.
“Morning!” the more petite of the two women said as she retrieved a loaf of bread from a metal breadbox on the counter. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, thank you,” I took the last couple of steps down to the flagstone floor. “I’m Georjie. Did Jasher…”
“That he did, lass, and you’re welcome.” The taller woman had a riot of frizzy red hair and a flushed but beaming face. She wore a gray poncho and reams of scarves. “You’ll be hungry, no doubt?”
“Slept away the entire morning, you did,” chimed in the one in the frilly apron with large gray eyes and soft cheeks.
I blushed. “I’m sorry, I guess I was tired from the journey.”
The taller one flapped a hand. “Don’t mind her, Ainslie’s up at five every morning whether she’s working or not. She’s only jealous.”
“It’s true,” admitted Ainslie as she set a sandwich with trimmed crust in front of a red-headed girl. “When you get older, sleeping in like a teenager is a thing of ages past. Have a seat beside Maisie, here.”
I crossed the kitchen and made to sit beside Maisie, but she was seated at one long bench. Getting my ridiculously long legs gracefully over a bench with a narrow gap to the bottom of the table is near impossible.
“Och, she’s a tall one.” Ainslie cackled. “Take the chair, Georjie.”
The girl’s wide brown eyes followed me as I went around the table.
I smiled self-consciously at the little girl. “Nice to meet you, Maisie.”
I turned to the boy. He too had inherited the same red hair as his sister, but looked like the older one. I opened my mouth to ask his name when he stretched a hand across the table.
“Lorne.” He was as serious as death. “I understand you’re a Sutherland?” He grasped my hand firmly and gave it one pump.
I laughed at his somber expression and mature way of talking, but he didn’t laugh in return, so I bit my cheek. “That’s right.”
“We’re Sutherlands, too. On Da’s side,” Lorne went on. “We’re probably related.” His brow pinched together as though the idea was a little disconcerting.
I didn’t feel the need to go into the fact that I was planning to change my name to Sheehan––my mother’s maiden name––and just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I didn’t think I’d get support for rejecting the last name we shared from this lot.
“I’m Bonnie,” declared the red-headed woman. “The mother with a capital ‘M.’” She ruffled Lorne’s hair. “And you’ll both be late for your afternoon classes if you don’t eat up.”
Ainslie set a sandwich in front of me and I thanked her and took a bite. I took a cup from a stack in the middle of the table and poured myself some water, wishing for coffee but too shy to ask. I already felt like an imposition.
“Coffee?” Bonnie asked.
I gave her a grateful smile and said around my bite of sandwich. “Thank you, I’d love one.”
She retrieved a stove-top espresso maker from a cupboard above the sink and I had to smile. It was identical to the one Targa had used in the trailer she and her mom lived in before it got destroyed in a storm.
Ainslie set a large roasting pan on the table and began to peel potatoes with the smooth, fast movements of someone who had been doing it since childhood. “So, you came in from Edinburgh?”
I nodded. “Last night. Again, I have to apologize for surprising you like this.”
“Don’t worry your head about it,” Bonnie said as she snagged a coffee mug from where they hung on little hooks under the cupboard. “Any Sutherland is welcome here and we’ve plenty of room. Jasher says you’re doing your last year of high school by correspondence?”
I nodded again, my mouth full of sandwich. Both Lorne and Maisie watched my every move, Lorne with the studiousness of a scientist and Maisie with her mouth hanging ajar. I winked at her and was rewarded when the corners of her mouth twitched.
“Have you always done school remotely?” Bonnie asked.
I shook my head, swallowing. “No, just this year. All my friends are abroad too, and I needed a break from my hometown.”
“Can I do school remotely?” Lorne asked in his serious way, tilting his head back to look at his mother.
“Lorne, honey. You’re eight.”
“When I’m older, of course.”
“Tell you what.” Bonnie kissed his cheek and went to rescue the espresso maker from boiling over. “Let’s have this conversation in another eight years.”
Lorne frowned. “I’m more mature than other kids.” He appeared to be making a calculation in his head, one eye squinted closed. “Let’s call it six years?”
I took another bite of my sandwich to hide my smile. I caught Ainslie laughing into her sleeve, potato peelings falling from her knife.
“We’ll see.” Bonnie poured espresso into my cup and told me to help myself if I wanted milk and sugar.
As I finished my sandwich, the kids were ushered from the kitchen, leaving me and Ainslie alone.
“She didn’t say so directly,” Ainslie said, keeping her eyes on the potato shedding its coat under her nimble grip, “but Bonnie Sinclair-Sutherland is the lady of the house.”
I swallowed my last bite of sandwich and pulled my coffee closer. “Yes, Jasher told me a little about Bonnie and Gavin.”
“Aye. Gavin, the laird, he’ll be out back with the men, including your Jasher.” Ainslie’s eyes flicked to mine and I caught the question in her gaze. I realized that this petite and energetic housemaid likely made it her business to know every little thing that went on in the castle. I didn’t miss the implication she’d made.
“Jasher and I aren’t together,” I offered.
“Ah.” Ainslie relaxed and went back to her potato. “How long do you think you’ll be staying in Blackmouth?”
It was a casual question, but the subtext felt thicker than honey on a cold day.
“I’m not sure,” I replied, slowly. “When does my welcome run out?”
“You’ll have to ask the lady,” Ainslie said, “but Blackmouth is closed to tourists until May, so…if you’re looking to make a little extra money, I could make use of a pair of hands from time to time.”
I let out a sigh of relief. So that’s what she was after. “Sure, I’d be happy to help when I’m not doing school work. I’m no pro at housework.” At home we had a cleaning service, and my meal-making skills stopped at spaghetti. “But I’m a quick study.”
I didn’t need money, but I had sprung my presence on them without warning. It wouldn’t feel right to turn down Ainslie’s request right off the hop.
She dazzled me with a smile. “Wonderful.”
I sipped my coffee but as the silence stretched out, I began to wonder whether she meant right now. Should I offer to help her peel potatoes? What I really wanted to do was go find Jasher and see the castle in the daylight. Maybe he’d have time to show me around. I got to my feet to signal my readiness to leave. Taking my empty plate over to the sink, I grabbed Maisie’s and Lorne’s plates as well. I didn’t miss Ainslie’s look of approval.
“Who was playing music last night?” I asked as I tossed uneaten bits of sandwich into the trash bin and began to wash the dishes.
Ainslie stopped peeling and looked up. Her spine straightened and her bosom swelled. “Music?” She tilted her head. “You heard music?”
“Yeah, I could hear drums in my room. Distantly.”
Her look said that if anyone had been playing music late last night in the castle and she didn’t know about it, there’d be hell to pay.
“Maybe the neighbors?” I guessed.
“The nearest neighbors are a quarter-mile down the hill. If they were playing music loud enough for you to hear it, they would have had a visit from the local bobby. Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”
I hadn’t been; I’d been walking the halls, but I didn’t want to get her riled. “Maybe.”
The creases in her forehead relaxed.
“Where might I find Jasher?” I asked as I put the last dish into the drying rack.
“He’ll be out back with Gavin most like,” Ainslie replied, eyes returning to her growing pile of potatoes. “Go through the center path of the garden maze, follow it down the hill and into the trees. After that, things get a little prickly. Just follow the sounds of men making grand plans. Here.” She set down her knife and went to the counter where she grabbed a fat aluminum Thermos and held it out. “Gavin likes a spot of tea in the midafternoon.”
I took the Thermos and told her I’d deliver it.
“You tell those boys supper is at seven sharp. They have a tendency to get carried away and be late for meals.” She pointed at me with the tip of her knife. “I don’t slave all day over a working man’s meal only to have it go cold afore he even sits down.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I saluted her. “I’ll pass on the message.” I went to the back door and found my jacket and boots.
Maybe the laird would be able to tell me who was playing drums here last night, since the housekeeper could not.
