Almost Home (12 page)

And didn’t it just suck for poor Austin to have lost his mom at so young an age? She viciously kicked a stone across the asphalt in the parking lot on his behalf. As tough as it was for her not to have known her sister, it was much sadder for Austin. All he’d know of his mother is what he’d hear from Wade or other people. He’d know her face from photographs, but
he’d never know the sound of her voice or the way she smelled or the feel of her arms around him.

With the back of her hand, Stef wiped away tears for a dead woman whose name she didn’t even know—a woman who’d won the love of the man she herself had wanted—but she couldn’t wipe away her curiosity. Surely Wade had grieved for his wife, but somehow, Stef hadn’t had a sense that his heart had been broken beyond repair, the way her parents’ had been after Natalie’s death. In Wade, she saw a deep sadness, but not the kind of grief that destroyed the soul.

What, she wondered, more confused than ever, was missing from this picture?

Diary ~

I heard the nicest bit of news—Horace Hinson has left his lovely old home on Olive Street to his cousin (twice removed, if I recall correctly), Steffie Wyler. And for my money, he couldn’t have made a better choice. Steffie was always the old boy’s favorite—why, I remember interviewing him for the paper once, right before he went to live in the home up in Ballard. He mentioned how he regretted never having married and having a family of his own, and how only his cousin Shirley Wyler’s children came to visit him, and how, when she was just a little girl, he’d taught Steffie how to make ice cream on an old hand-crank number his mother used to use. So it’s fitting that she should have the house where she learned her trade, I would think. Horace would be so proud of her
.

I admit I have often wondered why Horace never married. Years and years ago, I heard my mother and one of her friends whispering some rumors that there’d been a love affair that was doomed from the start, but I never heard the name of the woman. Neither, apparently, had my mother or her friend, since I seem to recall that trying to guess who the lady in question might be was at the heart of their gossip
.

Speaking of houses—I do not know what to make of this: Vanessa was chatting about having found a Ouija board in her attic, and how it claims to be guided by a spirit named Daz. Now, I find this strange, indeed—one would think that if any otherworldly spirit inhabited the old place, it would have been Alice Ridgeway, who’d lived in that house for ninety-some years and who, let’s face it, knew her way around a Ouija board. I daresay the board Vanessa found had belonged to Alice, once upon a time
.

Which just served to remind me that I must once again ask Vanessa to look in the attic for those journals of Alice’s. And, of course, to let me know if she finds them. I shudder to think of what might happen to … well, certain reputations if those old books fell into the wrong hands! What a mess that would be!

And speaking of which, I certainly made one the other day in Cuppachino. We were discussing young Wade MacGregor and I lamented the fact that his poor young wife had died so recently. Well, how was I to know that no one else knew that he’d been married, to whom, and that he was now a widower?! Way to spill it, Gracie!

~ Grace ~

S
TEF
, you have to come now, right now,” Vanessa demanded. “Whatever it is you’re doing, drop it and come over
right now.
”

Steffie checked her cell phone for the time of her friend’s call. Almost forty minutes ago. She was just about to hit return call when the phone rang.

“What’s taking you so long? Why aren’t you here? What about
right now
do you not understand?”

“Ness, I just got the message.” Stef frowned. “Is something wrong? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. But there’s something you need to see.”

“I’m on my way.”

Stef grabbed her bag and locked the front door. She’d hoped to have gotten at least one of the kitchen windows painted that night, but apparently that was going to have to wait. Whatever was happening at Vanessa’s must be really important, Stef thought as she locked the house behind her, because she sounded really fired up.

Less than four minutes later, Steffie was walking into Vanessa’s cozy bungalow on Cherry Street.

“What is going on?” she asked as she came into the house.

“Come into the living room.” Vanessa closed and locked the door behind her. “They’re in there.”

“Wait! Let me guess.” Stef stopped in the foyer. “You were fooling around with the Ouija board and it told you that you there’s a tall, dark, and handsome man in your future.”

“I could remind you that I already have my tall, dark, and handsome man in my
present
, but some might consider that gloating.” Vanessa led the way into the living room and sat on the sofa.

“What are those old books?” Stef stopped to check out the array of faded leather-bound volumes that were lined up one by one across the coffee table.

“That’s what you need to see.” Vanessa patted the sofa cushion next to hers. “Sit right here, and let me show you …”

She picked up the nearest book and opened it to a page she’d marked with a slip of paper.

“Remember I told you that old Miz Ridgeway left a ton of stuff in the attic?”

“Right.” Steffie nodded and took a seat. “No surprise there, though. Her family built this house, and she lived here forever. She was ancient when she died. We knew that.”

“Well, here’s something you don’t know.” Vanessa lowered her voice. “Miz Ridgeway … dabbled.”

“What do you mean, she dabbled?” Stef frowned. “You mean she painted?”

“No, I mean she
dabbled.
” Vanessa was almost whispering. “In
spells
.”

“What are you talking about?” Steffie laughed out
loud. “Are you saying that Alice Ridgeway was a wit—”

Vanessa clamped a hand across Steffie’s mouth.

“Don’t say it!”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Ness.” Stef slipped from Vanessa’s light grasp. “You’re talking about a woman who never left her house. She was agoraphobic.”

“So?”

“So don’t you think if she’d dabbled in spells that she’d have put a spell on herself to kick the agoraphobia so that she could go out into the world like a normal person and live her life?”

“Maybe it wasn’t agoraphobia. Maybe it was a spell that someone else put on her.”

“You make it sound as if St. Dennis was a hotbed of witchery.” Stef was clearly amused.

“It was.” Vanessa turned the book around and shoved it at Steffie. “Read.”

Steffie leaned forward and began to read aloud but Vanessa stopped her. “Not out loud.”

Steffie’s eyes skimmed the page.

“Okay, so some of the local girls thought Miz Ridgeway knew some spells and they wanted her to teach them what she knew.” Stef shrugged. “It sounds harmless enough. She was a lonely old woman and these kids probably thought she was more into it than she was because she never left the house and hardly anyone ever saw her.”

“Did you read the names of the young girls who wanted to learn how to do spells?”

Stef looked back to the book and turned the page.

“Holy crap!” she exclaimed.

Vanessa pointed to the top of the page. “Beryl
Eberly.” She looked up. “Do you think this is how she became a famous actress? By casting a spell to bring her fame and fortune?”

“Nah. Berry is naturally a great actress. I doubt she had to resort to magic. Besides,” she pointed out, “according to Miz Ridgeway’s own words here, all these girls wanted was to learn a love spell.”

“Aren’t you just a tiny bit curious as to why a woman like Berry would be interested in a love spell?”

“Maybe she was just going along with the crowd.” Stef’s eyes fixated on one name in particular. “Helen Kay Hinson. Huh. How about that?”

“Who’s Helen Kay Hinson?”

“That’s my nana Cummings’s maiden name. My mother’s mother. She would have been a little younger than Miz Ridgeway.” She grinned. “I guess that’s how she roped old Winston in.”

Stef looked up. “Winston Cummings was my grandfather. They owned the house on Cullen Drive where we grew up. We moved in with Nana when I was just a baby, right after my grandfather died.”

“Why didn’t she move in with you?”

“Because she had the big house, and she was by herself, and my parents had a small house and four kids. It worked out better for everyone that way.” Stef looked back at the page. “Anyway, I think it’s sweet that she wanted to cast a love spell on him. I think it’s sort of romantic; whether it was real or just so much hooey, it’s sweet that she wanted him to notice her that much.”

“I think the spell is for something more than ‘notice
me.’ ” Vanessa pointed to a name on the page. “Who’s Elinda Esterhouse?”

“That’s Mrs. Carlson. Reverend Carlson’s wife.”

“The minister’s wife wanted to learn how to cast spells?”

“She wasn’t a minister’s wife back then. She was a bit younger than Nana, so she might have just been influenced by the older girls. You know, young and impressionable. She passed on a few years ago, or we could have asked her about it.”

“Well, damn.” Vanessa frowned. “We need to find someone who’s still alive.”

“Well, there’s Berry. She’s still very much alive.”

Vanessa looked at Steffie as if she’d grown a second head. “Like a famous movie star is going to admit she had to resort to a love spell to make someone fall in love with her.” She tapped her fingers on the page. “Wouldn’t you love to know who Miz Berry had the hots for back then?”

“I’m betting it was Archer Callahan. He was her guy before she went to Hollywood.”

“Then I guess whatever spell she used wasn’t very effective, since she didn’t marry him.”

“But he asked her to, I’m pretty sure. And I’m pretty sure she said no.”

“Hmm. Why put a love spell on someone and then turn them down when they propose?” Vanessa wondered.

Stef shook her head. “I don’t know what was going on between them back in the day, but there were a lot of rumors.”

“Like what?”

“Well, the big one was that Ned—that’s Dallas and
Wade’s father—was really Berry’s son and not her sister’s.”

“What?” Vanessa’s eyes grew round.

Steffie nodded. “Don’t be repeating that, but that was what was going around for years. I remember overhearing my mom and dad talking about it once. Mom said that half the people in town thought it was nonsense, and the other half swore it was true.”

“Wow. Talk about your basic bombshell. If it’s true, that is.” She fell silent for a moment, then said, “So what do you think the spell would have been about?”

“I don’t believe in spells, Ness.”

“I don’t know if I do or not,” Vanessa murmured. “But these ladies did.”

“They were just girls back then. You know what it’s like when you’re fifteen or sixteen and someone gets something like this into their head. Didn’t you play with tarot cards and stuff like that at pajama parties when you were in high school?”

“I never did sleepovers when I was in high school. I didn’t have any girlfriends.”

“Seriously? Not one time?”

“Nope. I was the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, you know?” Vanessa looked wistful. “I don’t even know what girls did at those things.”

“You ate junk food and listened to tapes and called boys, and if the parents weren’t home, sometimes you all snuck out to meet the boys, who always knew where the pj parties were. Then the parents would find out or come home and the boys would scatter and the girls would come back inside and watch scary movies.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It was.” Stef knew that her friend had had an unconventional upbringing, but she hadn’t known she’d been without friends. “Sleepovers were always fun. Next time Grady takes one of his wilderness groups into the wilds of the Montana mountains for a few days, I’m coming over to spend the night. I’ll get some scary movies from the movie store out on the highway and we’ll stay up all night watching them. We’ll sleep here on the living-room floor and we’ll eat ice cream and popcorn and stuff.”

“Can we have s’mores?”

“Are they a favorite?”

Vanessa shrugged. “I never had them, but I heard they were treats that you eat when you’re camping. Sleeping in the living room is sorta like camping.”

“Good point.” Stef pointed to the fireplace. “Does that work?”

“Sure. Hal told me to have a chimney sweep clean it out last year after I bought the place. We used it a couple of times last winter. Grady had some wood delivered so that it would be seasoned when the cold weather gets here.”

“Then it’s ice cream, popcorn, and s’mores for sure. I’ll bring the goodies.” Stef turned her attention back to the list. “Oh, but look! Grace Ellison’s name is here.”

“Who’s Grace Ellison?”

“Miss Grace.”

“Really? Well, that explains it,” Vanessa told her. “Miss Grace asks me every other week if I’ve found any journals or diaries that Miz Ridgeway might have kept.” Her eyes danced with mischief. “Now we
know why. She’s afraid I’ll find these and tell everyone.”