Amelia and the Secret of Stoney Manor (Amelia Series Book 1)

by Michelle Bradshaw

  I just shrugged my shoulders, still not being totally coherent and having too much on my mind. The words of my mother and the fear in my grandmother’s eyes brought to reality that maybe things I assumed were so normal around here really weren’t. Maybe we were … different. Everything that has ever happened at the Manor started flooding back in my mind like a tidal wave crashing upon the shores of my memories. The creature in the mirror, the black cat, the black snake, the raven, the locket, the dreams … everything. Suddenly, I felt faint again and swayed slightly as Matthew caught me, sitting me back up right in the chair. No, I wouldn’t let myself pass out again because I didn’t want to go back to that eerie, dark place. More importantly, I had to be brave as my mother hoped I was.

  “You okay there, kiddo?” asked Matthew.

  Oh great, he called me kiddo, I fumed, as a rush of anger pulsed through my veins, like I no longer had control of my body. “No, I’m not okay, and I’m not a kid.” And with that I jumped up, unconsciously placing my hands on each side of his face, and kissed him with all of the passion, all the fury, and all the love that had been welling up inside of me for him. For a brief moment, he just stood there, smiling, until suddenly shaking his head, looking confused, he ran out of the room. The sound of an engine roaring to life could be heard as the tires screeched out of the driveway. “What the heck?” I screamed, making Grandmother rush back in the room to me.

  “Are you all right, my child?” asked Grandmother, wrapping her arms around my shaking body.

  “I’m fine, Grandmother.”

  “Then why are you shaking, my dear?” she asked out of fright.

  “Oh, I just made a complete idiot of myself to Matthew.”

  She seemed to be calming down and smiled. “Sit here on the couch and tell me all about it.” I sat beside her, recounting everything that had happened, down to the last detail. By the end of it, I had laid my head on her shoulder while she held me like she had done when all those mean boys would tease me at school.

  “I kissed him, Grandmother.” I proclaimed, with tears streaming down my face. “I kissed him, and he ran away. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Oh nothing is wrong with you, my sweet girl.” she reassured, compassionately, stroking my hair. “Between you and me, we spoke while waiting on you for lunch. He is totally infatuated with you, my dear,” she informed me, smiling.

  “How did you get him to tell you that?” I asked, looking up at her.

  “Oh, I have my ways,” she giggled. “He is confused about how to handle it all. He is slightly older, and he is my employee. He just wants to do the right thing. Sometimes, when love is involved, it is hard to figure out what that is. Give him time, Amelia. He will come around. There is no rushing matters of the heart.”

  I was so happy I felt like I could float off to space. Matthew really did care for me. My grandmother stopped stroking my hair and sat me up to face her. “Now, there is something we really need to discuss. I was going to wait until your birthday, but as you know, things have changed.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MATTHEW

  IT HIT ME LIKE A BOLT OF LIGHTNING

  As the tires screeched out of the driveway, and after almost hitting a lamppost, I threw the truck into high gear as I raced back to the sanctity of my room. “What the heck were you thinking, Matthew?” I screamed. I wasn’t, I thought to myself. It just really caught me off guard when she kissed me like that. I mean I’ve been on my fair share of dates that ended with a kiss, but never like that. It was as if time stopped, for but a moment, and nothing else mattered … not my age, nor my job, nothing. “Poor girl probably thinks I hated it,” I shouted, banging my hand against the steering wheel numerous times. Truth was though, I absolutely loved it—maybe that was what scared me. I knew that I liked her, but I didn’t realize I would like a kiss from her that much. I only want to do the right thing. I want to be the gentleman here. I know Ms. Matilda gave me the go ahead to pursue her, but I don’t know why, I just have this odd feeling of wanting to protect her.

  Some of my friends from back home would have asked me to give them back my “man card.” Jason, in particular, would have said to me, “Dude, she kissed you. You should have kissed her back.”

  “It’s just not that simple,” I remarked as if he were in the truck with me. “I’ve never felt this way about a girl before, and it scares me. How can I fall for her in such a short amount of time?” As the words came out of my mouth, I hit the brakes as hard as I could, bringing the truck to a roaring stop. “Sorry, Mrs. Eldridge,” I exclaimed to the little, old lady about to cross the street.

  She balled her tiny fist up and shook it as she shouted, “Watch it, sonny!” along with some other choice words that I have never heard a woman of her age say in my life. My eyes got big for a moment until she finally crossed and went on her way with her little Yorkie dog, Gypsy. After pausing for a moment, I shook my head and started to drive again. I tried to refocus on the matter at hand, and then it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Speaking out loud once again as if Jason were still in the truck, “That’s it! I love her!” Oh, how the words rolled off my tongue like honey. I felt the happiest I had in such a long time since before the car wreck that killed my parents. I love Amelia … Amelia … well, I’ll have to find out her last name later, I concluded, laughing to myself. I didn’t care. I was in love. How can I tell her? I deliberated, frowning for a minute while in deep thought. How do you tell the woman you love, “Hey, I’m sorry I ran off when you kissed me … umm … I really did like it. Actually, I loved it. If you want me to be honest, I wanted to kiss you again over and over right then and there, but I ran because it scared me because … I uh … I love you, Amelia!!” shouting it from the top of my lungs as I pulled into the parking space near the garden shop, jumping out of the truck, once again scaring some of the golden agers of the town who had stopped to gossip as they always did near the door to the store.

  “Good evening, Mr. Lovell, Mrs. Lovell, Mr. Walderman. Lovely evening isn’t it?” They just scowled, but nodded as I slammed the truck door and ran into the store to tell Uncle Bart the news.

  It was almost closing time, so he was doing his nightly duties in the shop before closing up. “Now, Mrs. Anthony would like some gardenias sent to her sister’s house,” he mumbled to himself as he looked over the list of orders that needed to be delivered by morning. “Hi, Matthew,” he said without looking up from his clipboard.

  “Uncle Bart, I’ve got something to tell you,” I announced with excitement in my voice.

  “Can it wait it just a minute, my lad? I’m almost finished with …”

  “I’m in love with Amelia,” I blurted out, unable to contain myself any longer.

  Uncle Bart nearly dropped his clipboard as he looked up to look me in the eyes trying to hide a smile and said, “Say that again.”

  “I’m in love with Amelia,” I proclaimed almost prancing around the store happy as a lark.

  Uncle Bart came running around the register counter to embrace me in a bear hug while almost lifting me in the air before releasing me. Man is he strong, I laughed to myself.

  “That is great my boy!” he answered, while giving me a hearty pat on the back, almost knocking me over. “What was her response when you told her?”

  I took a step back and looked at him full of confusion. “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Changing his grin to more of a concerned frown, he said, “Ah, so you haven’t told her yet, have ya, lad?” I just frowned and shook my head no, feeling as if I had let him down somehow. Uncle Bart walked over to a bench near the wall and took a seat. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell your ol’ Uncle Bart all about it,” he suggested, patting beside him.

  Before sitting down, I walked to the entrance of the store and locked it pulling the shades down on the windows as I did every night since I moved here. As I turned to go and sit by Uncle Bart, I noticed a dusty, forgotten looking picture in the corner of the store that caught my att
ention. As I walked over to get a closer look, the couple in the picture seemed to favor Uncle Bart and Ms. Matilda. They looked quite happy together. They were dressed in what seemed to be attire from the Roaring 20's, sitting on a dock, arm in arm, and smiling. I picked up the picture to further examine it and was surprised to find it was them. I was no judge of a lady’s age, but I was for certain Uncle Bart couldn’t be old enough to have lived then. To be quite honest, I wasn’t actually sure when his birthday was. Growing up, it was never mentioned. My parents were not big on birthdays. I mean, they had small parties for me with my schoolmates, but never family.

  Curiosity got the best of me so I asked, “Hey, Uncle Bart, is this you and Ms. Matilda?”

  Uncle Bart slowly rose from the bench and walked over to gaze at the picture. “Yes, it is,” he replied, but for the first time since I had been here, I noticed a hint of sadness in his eyes. He took the picture from my hand, gazing at it, and explained, “That picture was taken in Chicago. Her husband had been killed in a war many years before that. She had been a widow for quite some time before I got the courage to ask her to court me. We courted for a while, but I never had the courage to tell her I loved her. By the time I was ready, her daughter was to wed a man she had known since childhood. They moved here to have a more quiet life and I never saw her again for a number of years. When tragedy struck, I received a letter from her telling me of her sadness and how much she missed me. I took it upon myself to move here to Cave Spring, Georgia, and that’s where I have been for the last 15 years.”

  The math just didn’t add up in my head. “But uncle, she would have to be—”

  Uncle Bart interrupted before I could even finish my question. “Two things: first, everyone knows it is impolite to question a woman’s age, and second, things aren’t always what they seem.”

  Even more confused than before I asked, “But uncle, what do you mean?”

  He failed to answer and shook his head as if to say that was the end of that part of the conversation. “Let me just give you this piece of advice, my lad,” he responded, speaking slowly as the sadness filled his eyes again. “Don’t squander your time waiting to tell Amelia how you feel. Fate has a funny way of taking opportunities away from us when we fail to use them,” and with that, he sat the picture down, turned around, and went back to finish his nightly duties. Neither of us spoke another word the rest of the night. We just quietly closed up the store and went to bed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AMELIA

  I’M JUST AMELIA

  I sat for what felt like ages on the couch, staring off into space, trying to take in the words that my grandmother had just told me, replaying them over and over in my head. “You are a Moon Witch, child,” she had confessed. I really didn’t know what to think or how to believe it. Thinking of all the things I have witnessed at the Manor, I guess it had to be true, but it was just a little hard to digest. I debated, at most, my grandmother had magic, but me, not me, I’m just Amelia. Amelia from the little town of Cave Spring. How could that make me anything special? I continued to sit and ponder the thought as Grandmother stared at me with concern. I honestly couldn’t tell you anything else that had been spoken, because I couldn’t get over that I was a witch, and a Moon Witch at that.

  “Are you all right child?” asked Grandmother, taking my hand in hers. I didn’t say anything, just blinked and subconsciously nodded. “Would you like me to sit here with you a while longer, or would you like me to leave you to yourself a while to take it all in? There is much more we need to discuss. I think it can wait, but not much longer.”

  Oh gosh, there was more? I grimaced, mortified. I was having a hard enough time trying to believe that I was a witch.

  “Amelia,” spoke Grandmother slowly. “If time was not of the essence, I would not try to rush you to come to terms with this, but I am concerned that dark times lay ahead if we are not careful. We have to be ready for what may come. It is crucial that you believe that you are a Moon Witch, and by believe, I mean believing it down to your very soul. Without believing, nothing I could tell you or teach you would even make a difference. It is the backbone of where our true power lies.”

  Slowly I turned to look Grandmother in the eyes. “But … I’m just Amelia,” I said as tears began to fill my eyes.

  “Oh, my dear, you are so much more than that,” said Grandmother, giving my hands a little squeeze.

  “I’m just a girl from a small town,” I said, as a tear rolled down my cheek.

  Grandmother gently wiped the tear from my face, smiled, and proclaimed, “It is not where we are born that makes us who we are. It is who we choose to become that defines us. You were born for greatness, Amelia. I need you to believe that.” With those last words she hugged me, got up, and quietly walked out of the room, Luna following close behind. It being late and with a lot on my mind, I was too exhausted to go to my room, so I grabbed a soft, white throw from the couch and went and snuggled up in the chair beside the window to gaze out at my beautiful moon. Maybe it’s true, I reasoned. I have always loved the moon. That would explain that along with all the other weird happenings. Not having much energy left to argue with myself, I drifted off into a deep sleep.

  Once again I found myself in the place where I have met my mother twice before. It was eerily quiet like the last time and I was afraid that I would end up in darkness again, for my mother was nowhere in sight. I was afraid to speak but my thoughts ran wild until finally, “Mother!” I screamed, falling to the ground on my knees, wrapping my hands around me, as if to protect myself as I closed my eyes and began to cry. A soft, gentle, warm breeze begin to blow as the grass rustled around me.

  “Amelia,” she called.

  “Mother?” I asked, looking up to see her standing there before me. She still looked as beautiful as the last two times, but seemed tired. “Don’t be afraid, my sweet girl, for I am here now.”

  “Oh, Mother,” I sobbed. “I wish this wasn’t just a dream again. I want so badly to run and hug you, have you hold me, and tell me everything is all right.”

  “I can tell you things will be okay if you are well prepared, but I still can’t touch you. It would break the connection, and he would surely find you.”

  As confusion began to set in, I stopped crying and stood up. “Connection … what connection? This is just a dream,” I said, feeling utterly bewildered.

  “No, my sweet girl. It’s not a dream,” affirmed my mother. “For the last fifteen years, we have led you to believe it was a dream to protect you. I only came into your dreams occasionally, as a way to prepare you, but never letting you know what was reality. Did you not notice how I wasn’t here until you called?” I just shook my head, still in a daze from all the information. Mother continued to speak anyway. “Your grandmother and I planned it that way so that you could see that you truly are a witch. Our whole family is. When we are apart, this is how we communicate unless circumstances prevent us from doing so.”

  “What circumstances? Can all witches do this? I have so many questions,” I responded, trying to come to terms with it all.

  Mother held up her hand to stop me and smiled. “All in good time. Your grandmother will explain things better soon. I can, however, answer one question you asked. Yes, all witches can do this, but only within each family, whether it be by blood or true love that we can communicate. The window is only open as circumstances allow. If either party is disturbed, then the connection is broken. I feel our time is growing short, once again, my sweet girl.”

  “No, Mother, please don’t leave me,” I begged.

  “I’m sorry. I cannot linger at the moment, but now that you know one of the family secrets—the most important one anyway—we can talk more often.”

  “What? There are more secrets?” I exclaimed in amazement.

  “All in good time … all in good time. He comes. You must force yourself to wake up now. Your grandmother told me what you said happens before you wake. The reason you end up in the
dark after I leave is because you remain too long. At that point it would be very easy for him to take control of your mind, and we would all be surely doomed. Goodbye for now. I love you,” and with that she was gone.

  Not really knowing how, I tried to do as my mother advised. Maybe it was a mental thing. Wake up, Amelia, I thought. Nothing happened. Maybe I need to say it aloud, “Wake up, Amelia,” I murmured softly. Still nothing. The colors began to fade as they always did. I knew in my gut I had to wake up. With everything I had in me, I screamed, “Wake up, Amelia!”

  In that instant, I was awake, back in the sitting room again, sitting by the window.

  Grandmother was asleep, as was Luna, on the couch. I guess she came back in to check on me, I figured. I looked outside and noticed it was now morning. “Wow. I was there longer than I realized,” I noted in utter amazement. As I stood up to stretch, I felt something rattle on my chest. It was the locket. I guess Grandmother had put it on me during the night. I was going to take it off when the words of my mother rang in my head, “… wear the locket … it will protect you.” So, I left it on. I just stood there, lost in my world, as I ran my fingers across the locket until Luna meowed, and stretched, waking my grandmother from her slumber.

  “Oh gracious,” she uttered, covering her mouth to yawn while looking at the clock. “8 o’clock. We have truly slept in today. I wanted to make sure you had enough time with your mother,” she explained smiling, causing me to stop what I was doing and look up.

  “So you know about last night, and it really did happen?”

  “Yes, my child. That was the only way we knew to prove to you that you are a Moon Witch,” she informed me, rising from the couch as she began to fold her blanket. “Have you come to accept things as they are?”

  “Uh, yes, I think so,” I replied.

  “There can be no doubt at all or our magic will not work,” she insisted, with a look of concern on her face.