Witch Reborn Box Set: Books 1-3: Includes Gemstone Coven Holiday Shorts 1 & 2

by Belinda White

  Yes, Kimberly had me, but it wasn’t the same. I knew she didn’t like asking me for time off from her motherly duties. I’d been a little lax on taking the initiative in offering. I needed to up my game a little there. Maybe make it a one night a week thing? A little bonding time with all the kiddos couldn’t hurt me, either. Well, it might wear me out a bit, but it’d be good all the same.

  With the evening all arranged, and the front shop in Kimberly’s capable hands, I sat down with Malcolm’s journals. They were works of art all in themselves. Trust Malcolm not to scrimp, even on personal journals. The leather was supple and soft, and the pages were of a high-quality paper made so that an occasional ink blot wouldn’t bleed through to the next page. The main selling point, though, was the Fontaine family crest being engraved within the leather cover. They really were quite striking.

  It kind of made me want to design a family crest for the Ravenswind family. Now that I thought of it, I’m rather surprised Mother had never had that done. Better late than never, I suppose. My fingers traced the elaborate design on Malcolm’s newest journal as I thought about it. A moon would definitely be a given, but what else? What could we include to give homage to the Goddess and to our element of Air as well? Perhaps this would make a good family project. Suddenly, it seemed like far too big of a task for a solitary witch. Even if I was the family matriarch now.

  With an effort of will, I pushed the thoughts of family crests from my mind, took a deep breath, and opened the latest journal. It was rather obvious that it was the latest, as it still smelled new, and there were words written in Malcolm’s elegant scrawl only covering about half the pages. His life had run out before the pages in the journal had. Kind of sad, that. Like unfinished business.

  The beginning date was from a month before he died. After reading a few pages, it was evident that Malcolm had known his health was failing. There was still the possibility in my mind that someone might have been helping that along, but it didn’t appear to be the thoughts of Malcolm. No, he blamed it more on his young wife.

  Not in the she’s killing me way, but rather in a ‘keeping her happy is killing me’ kind of way. There’s a difference. No malicious intent was necessary for the latter to still be true.

  I had to smile as Malcolm told of all the parties and fundraisers he had had to endure. Not so many at the time of the writing, however. By the time this journal had started, those days had been behind him. His health was too far gone at that point.

  That’s most likely why his mind took the turn it did. The turn into thinking of how he’d lived his life and all the mistakes he’d made along the way. He desperately seemed to want to put them right. At least some of them.

  He talked about leaving certain bequests to certain people, and then, as I turned the page expecting yet another page droning on, two small photos peered up from between the pages.

  The pictures were obviously of the same girl but from different stages of her life. The first photo was of a smiling newborn, wrapped in a soft pink blanket with a knitted pink hat on. A few black curls escaped the hat, though. This was not your average bald little baby. Even baby Pearl hadn’t had this much hair when she was born. It was growing in nicely now, but there for a while... no.

  The next picture was of a girl, maybe around six years old. A beautiful little girl, tall and slender with curly black hair, bright green eyes (eyes that reminded me of Malcolm’s own), and a brilliant smile. In the photo, she was smiling at the camera and clutching a rolled diploma. Kindergarten graduation, perhaps?

  My breath came quicker as I moved the pictures from the words they were covering. Pay dirt. The journal was finally getting interesting.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about dear Maggie and our daughter. I never should have let things end the way they did. But when one has a powerful—and yes, vindictive—wife, one cannot readily come forward as the father of an illegitimate child. No matter how much one desperately wants to do so. When Maggie and the baby disappeared, I knew in my heart of hearts that Katrina had been involved. But, fool that I was, I was too cowardly to confront her about her actions.”

  I swallowed. Malcolm and Katrina had not been able to have children, hence the no heirs situation that had brought a gold-digger like Maude on the scene. But if there truly was an heir, surely she would be entitled to at least a portion of the estate? His next words proved me right.

  “I may have been a coward then, but no longer. I have created a new will, which I am keeping in my private desk along with these journals for safety. I will not do wrong by Maude. She will still be taken care of. Only not by quite so wide a margin as what she had been expecting when she married an old fool like me. It’s time I did right by little Ashley. It’s too late to make things right by Maggie. That’s a fact that I’ll regret right up to my dying day. Perhaps I can make my amends to her on the other side. But for Ashley Connor Fontaine, I intend to make things right now.”

  My eyes strayed to those brilliant green eyes in the photos. How hard would it be to find her now? And was it too late to produce the new will? So many questions.

  “I have reached out to Callista at the Golden Daze Bed and Breakfast. She and Maggie were close once. If anyone knows where my precious Ashley is now, it would be her. Perhaps it isn’t too late for us to make our amends on this side. An old man can only pray that might be the case.”

  My eyes were tearing up, so I closed the journal and pushed it to one side. How sad would it be to have spent an entire lifetime without knowing or even meeting your own daughter?

  Not being there for their first steps. Not hearing their very first words. And most of all, not being there when they needed you most. I didn’t really know how a strong man like Malcolm could have made a decision to live a life like that. But he had.

  And now it was time to make it right. He’d run out of time to do that. So now, it was up to me.

  Chapter 8

  I wasn’t sure how to approach Orville with the news of the new heir. Part of me was afraid he would correct his earlier mistake and take the journals from me as well. I didn’t want that to happen before I’d had a chance to read them all. I still wasn’t totally convinced that Maude hadn’t been slipping the old man something to make his slide into ill health go a little—or a lot—faster. If there was something in there that pointed in that direction, I wanted it found.

  Not that I didn’t trust Orville. He wouldn’t be my man if I didn’t. But law enforcement moves far too slowly at times like these. I wanted justice done. And the sooner the better for me. I didn’t want those journals sitting in an evidence room somewhere just waiting for someone to have the time to read them. Like that would happen anytime soon. A sheriff’s office is a busy place, even at the best of times.

  I’d stay up tonight and read the journals and tell him in the morning. It would be hard to explain to him why I waited, but then again, he wouldn’t have to know I’d started reading them before our little trip to Oak Hill to see Archie and my sister, now would he?

  The baby’s bag was packed—I’d forgotten what a chore it was to prepare for an outing with a baby. It felt like I was taking half the nursery with us! But then you never know what you’ll need, now do you? Diapers, changes of clothes, a bottle (and a spare just in case), and countless other things were stuffed into the bag until it was on the point of bursting.

  Kimberly laughed when she lifted it. “What all do you have in this thing?”

  I grunted. “Hopefully everything we might need tonight.”

  She shook her head. “Feels like you’ve got yourself covered for a week.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “You will be back tonight, right?”

  I saw her raised eyebrow and added in a smirk. “The kids have school tomorrow, don’t they? As much as they might want to stay over with Sapphire, their education comes first.”

  Of course, baby Pearl didn’t have school, but it was still far too soon for her to be having overnight stays away from her mother and me. Sap
phire might be a possible exception to that rule. But my heart just wasn’t ready for even that tiny step yet. Baby Pearl was beyond special to me.

  Kimberly might not know yet just how special baby Pearl was to me, but I think she was beginning to have her suspicions. One of these days, when I thought she could handle it, I’d have to tell her. Everything. But that would not be today. Probably not tomorrow, either. Or even this year. But someday, it would become inevitable. Pearl would come into her power one day. It wouldn’t be a secret any longer then.

  She looked like she might be going to say something more, but lucky for me, that’s when Orville showed up. So instead, she just shrugged and called up the stairs for Mason and Nancy to come down.

  I was half afraid to look at them once they reached the bottom of the stairs. Generally, it took them about five minutes from the time we walked in the front door for them to look like homeless, and very dirty, bums. Imagine my surprise when that wasn’t the case. I’d been fully prepared for a general scrub down before heading out the door. Now it wasn’t needed.

  From the proud look on Nancy’s face, I could tell this was her doing. I hid my grin as I caught a look at Mason’s wet and slicked-back hair. The boy had a cowlick that simply refused to be tamed without wetting that hair down. Unfortunately, Nancy hadn’t done a very good job of getting some of the water back out. There were droplets of water still dripping down the poor boy’s face.

  But she had tried, and I wasn’t about to take that away from her.

  “It’s a long car ride over to Sapphire’s new house,” I warned them. “Did you bring something to pass the time with?”

  Nancy nodded. “I have my book, and I loaned Mason my tablet for the ride. He really likes the new jigsaw puzzle app you got for me.” She ruffled Mason’s hair, then tried to discretely wipe her now wet hand on her jeans. “He’s pretty good at it. As good as me, even.”

  Mason just nodded, looking proud. “Plus, I got some questions for the sheriff, if that’s okay?”

  “I’m sure the sheriff will be fine with that.”

  “What is it I’ll be fine with?” Orville asked from behind me. I’d been so intent on the kids that I had failed to notice that Kimberly had opened the door for him.

  “I got some questions for you,” Mason said, shyly. The boy was a little demon sometimes around us women, but let Orville or another man show up, and he turned shy and bashful. He definitely needed some one on one time with a good man. A man like Orville.

  “Well, then, ask away, cowboy. But maybe we should wait till we’re all in the car, okay?”

  Mason nodded.

  “Think you could carry that diaper bag out for your Aunt Opal?”

  Kimberly shot me a worried glance, and I cringed on the inside. Just maybe I had packed too much stuff after all.

  But Mason was up to the challenge. Even if the bag did only make it an inch off the ground. And he had to take a few rest breaks between the porch and the car. The boy wasn’t about to give up. And we weren’t about to make light of him by offering to help, either. The look on his face when he finally reached the car with the bag was worth it.

  Orville opened his trunk and then reached down for the bag. He did a slight double-take, then looked over at me. “What the devil you got in this thing? A bag of bricks?”

  Mason giggled and jumped in the backseat. Nancy helped him get buckled in and then turned to take baby Pearl’s traveling car seat and get it situated onto its base. We’d decided to take my car because that base could be a genuine pain to get in and out of vehicles.

  Once everyone got situated and buckled in, Orville pulled out of the drive. That’s right, Orville was driving. It was a rule, even when we took my car. Mind you, it was a rule I didn’t mind at all. It was nice being chauffeured around for a while instead of being the one behind the wheel. Let someone else bear that responsibility for a change.

  Of course, the reason Orville insisted wasn’t as pleasant to think of. I’d thought it was just him establishing his claims on masculinity... as if he had to..., but come to find out, the man didn’t like the way I drove. The nerve of the man.

  Still, the end result was the same. I got a free pass on driving, so I kept my trap shut, mostly anyway, and just enjoyed the free rides.

  After he turned out onto the main road, Orville glanced in the rearview mirror back at Mason. “So, what was it you wanted to ask me, Champ?”

  I glanced back, too, in time to see Mason blush and look out the side window. “My teacher told us that we were going to have a career day. So if any of us had Dads or Uncles that had interesting or exciting jobs, we should ask them to come and talk to us. Only...”

  Orville looked over at me but didn’t say anything. Neither of us wanted to rush the boy. This was his show. Let him ask. It would mean more.

  Nancy, however, was a bit more impatient than the two of us. She elbowed Mason. He grunted, but then went on.

  “Only, I don’t really have a dad, or uncles, either for that matter.” He hesitated, then deftly dodged another elbow from Nancy. Not an easy thing to do when you were pretty much locked into place by a seatbelt. “So I was wondering... I mean, I call Opal my aunt, would it be okay if... if I called you my uncle?”

  I could tell the boy was holding his breath. I really hoped that Orville wouldn’t keep him waiting for long. Should have known that wouldn’t happen.

  “Well, we might not be blood-related, but some of the best relationships aren’t tied by blood, you know. So, yes, Mason, I would be very happy to be your uncle.”

  Mason’s grin could have lit up the whole car. “Awesome! And would you come to talk to my class?”

  Orville nodded. “Sure. I do that all the time. But this time, I will let your teacher know that I’m doing it as a special favor to my unrelated nephew.”

  “I told you he’d say yes,” Nancy whispered. Mason gave her an elbow of his own, and all was right with the world again.

  The kids dove into their chosen forms of entertainment after that, and the car got quiet. Too quiet, it would seem, for Orville. “Just tell me what you’ve got on your mind already. The suspense is killing me.”

  Sometimes having a man that could read you like a book was a real pain. Like when you’d decided to keep a secret from him. Even if it was only going to be for one short night. I could knuckle down and deny it, of course, but that would only disappoint him when I told him tomorrow. He’d know. And a tiny bit of the built-up trust we had between us would be damaged forever.

  I took a deep breath. “Well, I started reading Malcolm’s journals today. Started with the most recent, things being what they are.”

  “And...”

  Another deep breath. “And, according to his journal, Malcolm had a daughter. One he’d never officially claimed. A woman named Ashley Conner Fontaine.”

  Orville’s eyes flashed over to me for a split second and the car did just the tiniest of swerves. Enough so that I grinned at him. His eyes went back to the road. “That doesn’t count, you know. You shouldn’t spring things like that on a man while he’s driving.”

  “I believe you were the one that asked me.”

  He grunted. “I’m guessing the journal says the will left everything to Ashley then?”

  I shook my head. “Not everything, but enough to make Maude decidedly unhappy, I’m thinking. We’ll know for sure once we open that will.”

  Orville got quiet, and I could tell something was bothering him. “You got access to the internet on that outdated phone of yours?”

  “Not outside of my house or the shop, no. It needs Wifi to connect.” Then I stared at him. Hard. “Why?”

  One hand came off the wheel to scrub at his chin. “Because that name sounds awfully familiar to me. Ashley Conner, not the Fontaine part. But I’m guessing she didn’t go by that part if she hadn’t been formally acknowledged by Malcolm.”

  “Familiar how?”

  He shook his head. “I deal with too many cases to be sure. But
I’m sure I’ve run into that name in the past. Give me a minute.” Then he shifted in the seat to thrust out his hip at me. “My phone is in my pocket. Could you get it out for me?” He grinned at me. “Just the phone, no funny business.”

  I smacked his arm before retrieving the cell phone. It wasn’t a simple task from my position, or from the tightness of Orville’s jeans either. Not that I minded the tightness one bit—at least whenever I wasn’t trying to wrestle a phone from a tight pocket’s clutches, anyway.

  Finally, I had the phone in hand. “Now what?”

  “Dial my office and then put it on speakerphone.”

  “Sheriff’s Office, if this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 9-1-1.”

  “It’s me, Gretta.”

  My eyebrow rose. I didn’t recall a woman named Gretta working for the sheriff’s office. And the fact that Orville hadn’t mentioned hiring someone new was a tad troublesome. Normally he shared things like that with me.

  “Oh, hi Sheriff, how they hanging?”

  My other eyebrow rose, and I tilted my head at him. He blushed. Another bad sign.

  “As they should, Gretta. Look, can you do me a quick favor and look up the name Ashley Conner in our system? I can’t recall where I know it from.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff.” There was a moment’s pause before she was back on the line. “Ashley Renee Conner died in a vehicular accident outside Wind’s Crossing last year. Drove off the road, rolled down an embankment, and struck a tree. The coroner ruled that she would have died instantly. They put it down as an accidental death. There was mention of Ms. Connor having just come from a bar, and an open container in the car, so alcohol was believed to have been involved.”

  Orville nodded at the phone, his eyes flicking over to me. “Thanks, Gretta.”

  Before he could tell me to disconnect the call, Gretta got out a question. “So, have you thought any more about that dinner invitation? A man’s got to eat, you know. And I make a mean meatloaf.”