curses?”
Momma’s brows bunched as she carefully stroked the kitten.
“As in the use of naughty language or in the form of a spell?”
“A spell,” Caledonia clarified.
Aileen Kavanagh set the kitten on the floor, picked up the
hairbrush and began the task of untangling Caledonia’s hair as if she were
still a child. Caledonia didn’t stop her. She liked it. It not only helped
relax her, it made her momma happy by doing it.
“As I understand, curses are a form of black magic. They are
not to be used lightly.”
“Then you believe in them?”
“I believe there are many things in this world that are
unexplainable. They just happen without a valid reason behind them.” Momma
tugged her hair into three separate sections to braid. “Remember what happened
when you tried to dive in that Triangle. You believed that place to be cursed.
From what you told me, I never doubted your theory for a second.”
Her lungs tightened at the memory. Never had anything scared
her as badly as that dive. It almost made her quit the salvage business. Every
piece of her equipment stopped working the moment she slipped under the surface
of the warm Bermuda waters. No air reached her lungs. The water weighed her
down. Invisible hands grabbed ahold and tugged her toward the bottom. In a
battle that seemed like hours, she struggled for the surface only to find out
she’d been submerged for mere seconds.
A thorough inspection of the diving equipment showed no
evidence of damage or improper function. That was proof enough to her the
waters were cursed. She refused to dive again and that initiated the first of
many disputes with Kip. They canned the expedition because if she wasn’t
comfortable with a dive, the O’Reilly boys supported her decision and no one
dove.
Momma’s hand cupped her chin, tilting her face upward.
“What’s got you thinking on curses? Was it the spirit visitor you had last
night?”
Caledonia shouldn’t be surprised, but she was just a little
bit. “You knew?”
“Aye. I felt a presence in the air. Who came to visit?”
“A woman named Mary Campbell of Breadalbane. Have you ever
heard of her haunting this area?” Caledonia turned and watched Momma as she
lifted the kitten and settled it onto her lap when she sat on the bed.
“Mary,” she repeated softly.
Aileen’s brows pursed as she shuffled through her thoughts.
Caledonia liked the way her forehead crinkled when she was trying to recall a
memory buried deep in her vault of tales. As a child, her momma shared many
stories and tales of Scottish lore and myths at bedtime. Caledonia took a sip
of her tea. Maybe that’s why she traveled the globe in search of treasure.
She’d had a great dose of fantasy, romanticism and adventure instilled in her
soul from day one.
Her blue eyes brightened when her gaze leveled on Caledonia.
“When I was a lass, my grandma told me a tale of a young woman named Mary, who
once lived in the castle on the north end of the loch. She was bound in a
loveless marriage, which bore no children. She died young, spurring rumors of
poison at the hand of her husband for the lack of an heir. It’s been said her
ghost could be seen on occasion standing at the water’s edge as if waiting for
a lover’s return.”
“She is the very same,” Caledonia replied. “She explained
her death and why she walks this world instead of crossing over.”
“She mourns a lover,” Momma stated with heavy anticipation
in her tone. Always the romantic, Caledonia noted about her mother.
“Aye, there is some truth to the tale.” Caledonia paused. If
anyone would believe what Mary shared with her, it was Momma. “Her husband did
poison her because of no heir. But she doesn’t mourn a lover. She lingered to
protect one. The man she loves fell victim to a curse, which turned him to
stone.”
Her eyes widened. “The statue.”
“The statue.” Caledonia nodded.
Chapter Four
She stood outside the open doorway, looking in. The
Momma’s brows bunched as she carefully stroked the kitten.
“As in the use of naughty language or in the form of a spell?”
“A spell,” Caledonia clarified.
Aileen Kavanagh set the kitten on the floor, picked up the
hairbrush and began the task of untangling Caledonia’s hair as if she were
still a child. Caledonia didn’t stop her. She liked it. It not only helped
relax her, it made her momma happy by doing it.
“As I understand, curses are a form of black magic. They are
not to be used lightly.”
“Then you believe in them?”
“I believe there are many things in this world that are
unexplainable. They just happen without a valid reason behind them.” Momma
tugged her hair into three separate sections to braid. “Remember what happened
when you tried to dive in that Triangle. You believed that place to be cursed.
From what you told me, I never doubted your theory for a second.”
Her lungs tightened at the memory. Never had anything scared
her as badly as that dive. It almost made her quit the salvage business. Every
piece of her equipment stopped working the moment she slipped under the surface
of the warm Bermuda waters. No air reached her lungs. The water weighed her
down. Invisible hands grabbed ahold and tugged her toward the bottom. In a
battle that seemed like hours, she struggled for the surface only to find out
she’d been submerged for mere seconds.
A thorough inspection of the diving equipment showed no
evidence of damage or improper function. That was proof enough to her the
waters were cursed. She refused to dive again and that initiated the first of
many disputes with Kip. They canned the expedition because if she wasn’t
comfortable with a dive, the O’Reilly boys supported her decision and no one
dove.
Momma’s hand cupped her chin, tilting her face upward.
“What’s got you thinking on curses? Was it the spirit visitor you had last
night?”
Caledonia shouldn’t be surprised, but she was just a little
bit. “You knew?”
“Aye. I felt a presence in the air. Who came to visit?”
“A woman named Mary Campbell of Breadalbane. Have you ever
heard of her haunting this area?” Caledonia turned and watched Momma as she
lifted the kitten and settled it onto her lap when she sat on the bed.
“Mary,” she repeated softly.
Aileen’s brows pursed as she shuffled through her thoughts.
Caledonia liked the way her forehead crinkled when she was trying to recall a
memory buried deep in her vault of tales. As a child, her momma shared many
stories and tales of Scottish lore and myths at bedtime. Caledonia took a sip
of her tea. Maybe that’s why she traveled the globe in search of treasure.
She’d had a great dose of fantasy, romanticism and adventure instilled in her
soul from day one.
Her blue eyes brightened when her gaze leveled on Caledonia.
“When I was a lass, my grandma told me a tale of a young woman named Mary, who
once lived in the castle on the north end of the loch. She was bound in a
loveless marriage, which bore no children. She died young, spurring rumors of
poison at the hand of her husband for the lack of an heir. It’s been said her
ghost could be seen on occasion standing at the water’s edge as if waiting for
a lover’s return.”
“She is the very same,” Caledonia replied. “She explained
her death and why she walks this world instead of crossing over.”
“She mourns a lover,” Momma stated with heavy anticipation
in her tone. Always the romantic, Caledonia noted about her mother.
“Aye, there is some truth to the tale.” Caledonia paused. If
anyone would believe what Mary shared with her, it was Momma. “Her husband did
poison her because of no heir. But she doesn’t mourn a lover. She lingered to
protect one. The man she loves fell victim to a curse, which turned him to
stone.”
Her eyes widened. “The statue.”
“The statue.” Caledonia nodded.
Chapter Four
She stood outside the open doorway, looking in. The
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