THE INHERITANCE - part thirteen

THE INHERITANCE – part thirteen………

Welcome home

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Kate called the local B&B and recognized Martha Anderson’s voice. She’d only met her once when she stayed the night a few weeks before, but Martha had a distinctive but subtle nasal twang in her voice.

“Hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m Kate Sullivan. Remember me?”

“Oh, Katie, of course I remember you. Terry called and said you’d be needin’ a room for a few days. Hope you don’t mind him doin’ your business, but that’s Terry. He likes to help.”

Kate laughed and shook her head at the willingness expressed by everyone she’s met.

“Yes, that’s all right, he’s been such a tremendous help, so far. So then, do you have a room I can rent?”

“Yes, my darlin’. It’s all ready for you. Is there anything else you’ll be needin’?’

“I can’t think of anything, Mrs. Anderson. If it’s all right with you, I’ll come by around three. There are a few things, yet I’d like to do around here.”

“Any time you get here is fine by me. I’m about to bake a cherry/berry pie. We’ll have that for dessert.”

“Mrs. Anderson, you’re fantastic! Thanks; I’ll see you a in few hours.

Kate looked around her new home and trying not to shed the tears she felt brewing behind her eyes, said, “Oh, mo abhaile. I know it’ll only be about two days, but I’m really going to miss being here.” She couldn’t help herself. She plopped down on the chair near the fireplace, put her face in her hands and cried as though her heart was breaking.”

She couldn’t explain why, but she was sure she felt someone hugging her and though she was alone, thought for sure it was her great-grandmother. “I know, Grandmother; crying is useless, but I never expected anyone to challenge my right to the home you left me. I’ll really have to use my wits if she decides to stay.”

She jumped with fright as the fireplace roared to life. “I know I didn’t put logs in there, so, SO!” She knew then, there would be no one taking her home away.

Kate walked outside the front door and straight to the water pump. She rinsed and dried her face, looked back at her home, and said, “Let the games begin. Right Grandmother?”

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She parked her car and Mrs. Anderson rushed out to meet her. “Come in! I’ve got the kettle boilin’ We’ll have tea.” Then she looked at Kate’s face. “Oh, perhaps a shot of Jameson, first, then. Come on, you grab one case and I’ll take the other.”

They left the two travel bags by the staircase and Mrs. Anderson ushered Kate into the kitchen. “More private, dear. No one will bother us here. Now tell me what’s happened. Terry said you’d be needin’ a room but didn’t say why.”

Kate tossed back the whiskey, and almost choked on it. “Wow, that’s potent stuff, Mrs. Anderson!”

The older woman laughed. “Yes, it chases away the blues, the colds, and whatever else ails you. Here’s your tea and a slice of my pie.” Kate noticed there was a dollop of vanilla ice cream on the plate with the pie.

“Mrs. Anderson, you’ve gone overboard. But, yes, you need to know what began and how it eventually led me back here.”

Only stopping periodically for a mouthful of tea and pie, Kate told Mrs. Anderson everything.

Mrs. Anderson’s hazel eyes took on a hard, fierce glare. “So that’s who that blonde bimbo was!”

Kate sat with a forkful of pie almost at her mouth., “Go on, lovey, eat and I’ll tell you how I met her.”

Kate put the pie in her mouth and began to slowly chew the delicious treat.

Mrs. Anderson bunched up her long gray hair and tied it in a tail at the nape of her neck.

“Two days ago, an angry and arrogant woman all but stomped through my front door, practically slammin’ it off its hinges, demanding a room. I didn’t like the looks of her and while I can’t explain my instincts, just knew she was trouble. I told her we had none available and encouraged her to try the hotel a few miles away. She wasn’t happy and left in a huff but leave she did! Saints be praised!”

Kate had not yet told Mrs. Anderson about her great grandmother’s abilities but wanted to see if she knew anything at all. “Uh, Mrs. Anderson, out of my own curiosity, I really need to ask. How much do you know about my great grandmother?”

As Mrs. Anderson poured more tea, she looked at Kate with a smile on her face and a gleam in her eye. “Do you mean, do I know she was a witch? Oh, my goodness, Kate, I think everyone in Aughacasla knows that. Kathleen never kept it a secret. That’s why I know her home is now yours, no matter what that trollop wants.”

Kate had to gulp her mouthful of tea very quickly or she would have spit it out in a fountain of hot liquid. Then she laughed.

As they exited the now clean kitchen, the front door opened and there stood Brian, Mo’s oldest son. He carried a small book. “Miss Kate, sorry to bother you but mam said you might want to read some of this,” as he was explaining his visit, her phone beeped.

“Brian, hold on a sec. Your mother’s calling.”

She placed the phone to her ear and said, “Hi Mo, Brian just got here.”

“Oh, Kate, I thought you had it, but Shevy left a short while ago. It seems that Kathleen gave her mam the journal we spoke about. Shevy didn’t know until this afternoon, but you’d already left your home. She brought it to me and well, I had Brian bring it to you. I thought you might want it. And, tomorrow, I’m hoping you’ll stop by for her spell book. I think you’re going to have some fun with it.”

“Mo, that sounds like a plan. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Brian handed her Kathleen’s journal, and typical of a man in his early twenties, turned, and walked back to his car without another word.

She called after him, “Thank you, Brian, very much.”

“Mrs. Anderson, I think I’ll say goodnight now. Supper and dessert were wonderful, but it seems I’ve some reading to do.”