Magical New Beginnings
Page 1
Magical New Beginnings
Midlife Witchery Book 1
Brenda Trim
Contents
MAgical New Beginnings
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
EXCERPT FROM MIND OVER MAGICAL MATTERS BOOK # 2
Authors’ Note
OTHER WORKS BY Brenda TRIM
MAgical New Beginnings
Brenda Trim
Copyright © May 2020 by Brenda Trim
Editor: Chris Cain
Cover Art by Fiona Jayde
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction of this work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the authors.
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“And, sometimes you just know it’s time to start something new and trust in the magic of new beginnings.” ~ Fiona Shakleton
Chapter 1
Emmie released me and wiped a tear from her eye as she looked around the grounds. “I can see why you don’t want to leave here. This place is amazing, mom. Well, aside from the eerie cemetery and mausoleum. I always hated that when we came here as kids, and it isn’t any better. Anyway, knowing how much you love it will make being so far from you completely worth it.”
I squeezed my oldest daughter’s hand and bobbed my head in agreement. I never imagined I would feel this way when I came to England to say goodbye to my grandmother. “For the first time since your father died, I feel like I’m home here at Pymm’s Pondside. The only downside is not being able to hop in a car and visit you and your brother and sister.”
“We don’t mind coming to you, mom. You’ve done more than enough for us. It’s about time you have something just for you,” Skylar, my youngest daughter told me as she jumped into the conversation. She was leaning against the white picket fence that surrounded the massive garden my grandmother kept in pristine condition. That was one thing I wasn’t looking forward to maintaining. My bad knee ached in preparation for what it was going to be put through.
Greyson turned from the pond at the front of the property I’d just inherited and rolled his eyes at his twin. Skylar was my sensitive one, where Emmie was the responsible one of my three kids, and Greyson was hotheaded. “Stop sucking up. Mom isn’t going to fly you out to England every time you’re homesick.”
My head started throbbing with the familiar argument. Emmie had been away at college for two years, but the twins just started. And being my sensitive one, Skylar came home nearly every weekend. The three-hour drive didn’t faze her at all, where Greyson almost always remained on campus. By remaining in England, I will be making it impossible for them to come home for a weekend visit.
I am a horrible mother because leaving my kids without their home base close by didn’t make me change my mind. Every fiber of my being screamed that this was where I was meant to be. Where I needed to be. I’ve lived the past twenty-two years for someone else. Now was my time.
I wrapped one arm around Greyson and the other around Skylar. “What have I always told you, Grey? It’s your job to take care of your sisters. They do enough for you. I expect you to make time for her as we all adjust to this new set up.”
Greyson’s head dipped, and he took a deep breath. “Sorry, mom. You’re right. I won’t get lost in myself.”
“I won’t let you,” Emmie added. “I never thought I’d be happy to move back in with you nutjobs, but I’m actually excited.”
Dust billowed into the air as the car I arranged to take them to the airport turned down my dirt drive. Emotion clogged my throat, and my eyes burned with tears. I’d lost so much in my life, and it felt like I was losing them now, too. “I’m going to miss you guys.”
Skylar squeezed me tighter. “We will miss you, too, but this isn’t forever. You never know. We might decide to move here after college.”
I released the twins and embraced Emmie next. “Now, remember you guys are closing on your house before the term begins. The agent will be contacting you, Emmie, to set up the date and time, but all three of you need to be there.”
The second I stepped foot onto the property, I called a real estate agent in Salisbury and arranged to sell my house. I swear the Gods are on my side because it sold before the week was out. Emmie was all too happy to find a house for her to move into with the twins. In no time, the three found exactly what they wanted. Using the money from the sale of my house, I put in an offer for the kids on the one close to their campus.
“I’ve got it handled, mom. Don’t worry about us. We will be back next summer.”
“If you need anything, call me.” I hugged them each once more then sent them on their way.
Turning around, I took in my new home. Pymm’s Pondside was the name for the white cottage. When I visited as a kid, I thought it was neat that they named their homes here. But to call it a cottage was misleading. The thing was nearly as big as my house in Salisbury, but it had charm coming out of the eaves.
The brown roof reminded me of a thatch design. Every angle was rounded, creating a soft, inviting look to the five-bedroom home. The shutters on the windows matched the brown of the roof, and the ivy growing up one side was straight out of a fairytale. I’d always thought that, and now it was mine.
I even owned a cemetery. Never thought I’d say that in my life. And, the craziest part was that it made me feel closer to the family I’d never known. I turned my head to the left and glanced at the headstones. Towards the back of the place were a couple mausoleums. Yeah, it’s super creepy but also pretty neat. I mean, there was a graveyard a hundred feet from where I slept. Good thing I have always loved them, or I wouldn’t have been able to stay in the house.
Turning away from the cemetery, I glanced at the garden I had spent days wondering if I should remove. Not only did I cringe at the thought of so much bending, but I didn’t have a green thumb. I wasn’t as bad as Violet, my best friend, but plants didn’t exactly flourish under my care. And I’m starting a new life now. I admit that I have no desire to weed the damn thing. I was reluctant to actually pull the plants up. They’re a part of the place’s charm.
I headed to the pond and smiled as I looked at the large watering hole. I’ve seen deer, rabbits, and small bears drinking late at night or in the early morning. The entire property was surrounded by woods. The area was lush thanks to the rainy weather in Northern England.
Opening the small gate in the fence around the garden, I went in search of some basil to add to my tomato sandwich for lunch. There were so many herbs and plants, and I knew what maybe a third of them were. Rosemary and mint were the most obvious. The rest I would learn in time if I don’t lose it all to weeds.
I found what I was looking for in the far corner closest to the cemetery. My gaze shifted to
the fresh grave. My vision blurred when I read my grandmother’s name. A pinging started up in my head. That was the only way I could describe it.
There was something hitting the walls of my skull, almost like a bee trapped under a cloche. I’ve never experienced it before in my life. The stress of the past month must be getting to me.
I took a deep breath and thought about my grandma. Isidora Shakleton was unforgettable and an integral part of the town. Most of the residents of Cottlehill Wilds showed up for her service.
The pinging was gone by the time I turned away and walked back to the house. The inside was just as cozy as it appeared on the outside. The back door went right into the kitchen, where I dumped the basil before I headed through the small living room and up the stairs to my bedroom.
The patchwork quilt my grandmother made was still on her bed. I had my clothes and a few of my favorite mementos shipped to me. The rest was going to the kids.
I really do need a new comforter. And sheets. I made plans to head into the city so I could pick up a nice Down quilt and maybe a new mattress. I swear there were more lumps in the thing than there were on my butt and thighs. And that was saying something.
Being my age, it was shocking if you didn’t carry an extra fifteen or twenty pounds. I know I certainly had the extra cushion. Along with aches and pains, I thought as I bent to pick up the towels Skylar left on the wood floor.
That was one thing I will not miss. The kids, much like my late husband, never picked up after themselves. And boy, did that get on my last damn nerve. I spent my entire life caring for others—both at work and at home. I swear being a caretaker was woven in my DNA.
After graduating with my bachelor’s degree in nursing, I worked full-time in the ICU at a local hospital for twenty years then took care of Tim at the end. Perhaps that was what was so inviting about my grandmother’s house. There was no one here for me to take care of.
After washing the toothpaste from the sink, I turned and yelped. “What the fuck?” My mouth got away from me when I noticed the towels back on the ground. Where the hell had they come from? I just picked them up and put them in the laundry basket.
I headed into the other bedrooms and stripped the beds before straightening the covers over the mattresses. When I finished with the room Greyson was staying in, I tripped over the sheets that were no longer in their neat little pile.
Pausing, I thrust my hands on my hips and glanced around. Was someone there messing with me? I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, so I picked up the pile and added it to the basket, then carried my load downstairs.
When I entered the tiny room at the back of the kitchen where the washer and dryer were, I stopped short when I noticed the soap tipped over on its side. “Alright, grandma, if you’re haunting the place to scare me, there’s no need. I’m not going to make too many changes.”
It felt almost as if the house sighed around me. Shaking my head at my idiocy, I put a load on then entered the kitchen. The sight of the scuffed wooden stool sitting at the butcherblock island reminded me of all the days I used to sit there as a kid and listen to my grandmother tell me stories about Fae and witches.
I envied her creativity. I could never come up with the elaborate ones she did. She wove tales about portals, fairies, dragons, and gnomes. When I became a mom, and my kids started asking for stories, I used my favorites from the ones she told me.
Skylar loved one about a pixie that sought asylum with a witch from a vicious beast that had been hunting her. The pixie barely evaded the beast and barreled through some woods when she came up against a barrier. She pounded her tiny hands on the barrier, begging for help. The witch helped and provided the pixie with some woods to live in and the pixie gave the witch fresh flowers in return.
Emmie’s favorite was about a gnome family that was escaping from some barghests while Greyson preferred stories about dragon shifters that needed to get away from the vile King that created them to ravage and kill.
My mind swimming with memories, I made a sandwich and was turning away from the window when movement caught my eye. I sucked in a breath and immediately started choking on my food. Smashing the food in my hand, I raced for the back door and burst through.
I was still coughing when I dashed down the steps. After a couple more hacks, I managed to clear my throat. “Can I help you?” It still felt like food was stuck down the wrong pipe.
The woman paused with her hand on an herb in the garden and looked up at me. She looked like she was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties and had stunning red hair. My hands smoothed down my pink t-shirt when I took in her crop top and flat stomach.
She lifted one hand and smiled. “Oh, hi. You must be Fiona, Isidora’s granddaughter. I’m Aislinn. I thought you’d be on a plane home by now. I saw the car leave hours ago.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, smearing mayonnaise over my left boob. I was a hot freakin’ mess, but I didn’t care at the moment. I have no idea how my grandmother did things, but I didn’t want people wandering on my property whenever they wanted.
“This is my property and I have decided to stay. Listen, I’m not sure what arrangement you had with my grandmother, but I would like a heads up before you go prowling around stealing my stuff.”
Aislinn’s eye bugged out of her head and her hand dropped to her side. “I apologize. Like I said, I figured you’d be gone. I just needed some thistle for a potion, and Isidora has always allowed me to grab the few ingredients I need in exchange for helping with upkeep in here.”
That brought a smile to my lips. My hands dropped, and pieces of tomato fell from between the bread. “In that case, you are more than welcome. Honestly, I was thinking about getting rid of the garden. I swear I have a black thumb. Besides, I have no idea what all this is, or what it is for.”
Aislinn chuckled and cut a couple sprigs of the plant she’d been holding. “If you’re Isidora’s kin, you’ll be able to keep things alive, but I am happy to help. This has become my therapy since my husband left me a year ago. Is your husband not staying with you?”
I shook my head side to side as a lump formed in my throat. Anytime I talked about Tim, I was close to losing my shit. Enough time had passed that I should be beyond this by now. But I knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as closure. Grief was a roller coaster that would catch you off guard when you least expected it. The loss of someone you love never stopped hurting, no matter how much time passed.
“My husband passed away a couple years ago. Cancer.” I preempted the inevitable questions about what killed him. “My kids went back home to college. They will visit, but they won’t be living with me.”
“I’m so sorry about your husband. You’re starting over. That’s good. It’ll help to create a life that is removed from him. That way, the grief won’t suck you under every time you turn around.”
My jaw dropped open at the young woman’s insight. I never would have expected her to be so wise. “Honestly, I never thought about that. I had the hardest time letting him go. Despite how much it hurt to eat at our favorite restaurant and go to our park, I ignored it because it felt like a betrayal to do anything else. It wasn’t until I got here and felt this sense of belonging that I started giving more thought to my desire to create a new life for myself.”
Aislinn exited through the gate and stopped by my side. She was at least three inches shorter than my five-foot-five frame and skinny as a rail, but she exuded this green aura. I must be thinking that because she enjoys gardening.
“As a Shakleton, you definitely belong here. I need to get home to make this potion, but if you ever need anything, I work at Phoenix Feathers. In fact, you should come in some time for a drink. On me.”
I extended my clean hand and shook hers. “Thank you. I will be in touch, I’m sure.”
I watched her walk away. I missed where she turned off my driveway because standing on the other side of the path was a man. He was muscular and intimidating. I would
n’t say he was gorgeous. He was too scary for that, although his beauty was undeniable.
I lifted my hand and waved at him. “Hi. I’m Fiona. I just moved into my grandmother’s house.” The guy didn’t say a word as he stood with his feet braced apart, and his arms crossed over his chest while he narrowed his brown eyes at me.
I waited a few minutes before realizing he was not going to introduce himself. Swallowing hard, I turned back to my house. By the time I got inside the kitchen, he was gone. Maybe I would ask Aislinn who the attractive, yet angry man was.
Pymm’s Pondside was turning out to be more than I bargained for when I turned back to the kitchen to see silverware strewn over the island. A familiar determination settled over me. This was going to be great. There was no other choice.
I lost my Grams, quit my job, sold my house, and moved to another country. I couldn’t exactly pick up where I left off. That life was in the wind now.
Chapter 2
“Ungh!” I grab my head as that pinging started up again. I wonder for the millionth time if this is a perimenopausal symptom. The hot flashes have been happening more and more and I found one gray hair yesterday, so it wouldn’t surprise me. They say forty is the new thirty, and I agreed. At forty, there wasn’t much that slowed me. At forty-five, I’m not so sure. There are moments I feel ancient.
I push the irritation aside and force my feet to carry me to the coffee maker. In the past week, I have come to realize I need to find something to do with my time. I’ve always worked full-time and can’t stand not having something to do. I have enjoyed not having the stress of the hospital, but I need something.