Page 16 of Winter Beginnings
Stepping out into the hall, I caught a whiff of last night’s Italian spices still lingering in the air—the faint aroma of tomatoes, garlic, and herbs. The mere smell made my heart squeeze. That dinner felt so warm and natural…until everything unraveled in the cold light of dawn. I cleared my throat, swallowing the lump that threatened.No tears, Rory. Not now.
In the kitchen, Bramble greeted me with a wagging tail and a tiny bark, trotting over to nudge my legs. Even the dog sensed my turmoil. Sinking down to pet him, I murmured, “We’ll be okay, buddy. We always are.” His soft fur brought a hint of comfort. I flicked on the coffee maker, the dull hum blending with the fading generator drone.
The leftover bag of kibble sat on the counter, so I poured a scoop into Bramble’s dish, smiling weakly when he devoured it with tail-thumping gratitude. Next, I rummaged for a quick breakfast in the pantry, but nothing looked appealing. My stomach cramped in protest. No appetite, I realized, sighing. No surprise, after last night.
I filled a mug from the coffee pot, letting the steam brush my cheeks.Just keep busy.That was always my strategy, especially after Julian’s betrayal. If I worked on the house—scraping wallpaper, sorting boxes—I’d avoid thinking too hard about Cass and whether I’d been foolish to trust him. But was I even wrong to trust him? The question rattled. He’d been so honest in everything else, so warm, so caring. Yet he’d kept something enormous hidden: that he was Cyrus’s biological son. That changed everything…or maybe it changed nothing, except my sense of security. I sighed, my thoughts tangling tighter than a ball of yarn.
After forcing down a few gulps of coffee, I set the mug aside. Let’s do some house-related tasks, I decided. The second-floor corridor needed more clearing, and a portion of the attic rummage awaited me. Work would distract me from the knot twisting in my gut.
Bramble padded after me as I climbed the stairwell. The day’s early sunlight slanted through a dusty window at the end of the hall, revealing motes that danced in the beams. The hush felt heavier than usual, every step a reminder that Cass wasn’t here to share the load like usual.You did this, Rory. You told him to leave.Regret warred with righteous indignation.
Resolutely, I nudged open an old storeroom door. More clutter—trunks stacked along the walls, boxes teetering precariously. Sighing, I edged inside, rummaging for anything salvageable or historically valuable that might help with the eventual B&B theme.Focus.My gaze caught on a large, ornate book half-buried under tattered table linens. Something about it drew me closer, the gold-leaf edges glinting under the dusty gloom.
Gently, I pried away the linens. There it was: The Barrington Family Bible. The title was etched in fading script on the cover, corners reinforced with tarnished brass fittings. My pulse surged, recalling how the documents I’d found earlier hinted at this very tome. If it contained a genealogical tree, it might explain Edna Twinkleberry’s rumored lineage—and more about Cyrus.
Carefully, I opened the front pages. The text was in elegant cursive, listing births, marriages, and notable family events stretching back generations. Scanning down, I found references to Cyrus’s father, Thomas, who’d divorced his first wife (an event more than likely hushed up in that era) and then married again, fathering Cyrus with the second wife. Another entry mentionedthe first wife’s child—Matilda Hall, who had been adopted and raised with the last name of the man who became her stepfather. That meant that Matilda was Cyrus’s older half-sister.
Then my breath caught: Matilda Hall married Franklin Twinkleberry…and their child was Edna. The lines were clear. Edna Twinkleberry was Cyrus Barrington’s niece.That means Cass is Edna’s cousin.Realization dawned over me as I connected the dots.
So Edna’s claim was real after all. Gently, I turned another page, but there was no direct mention of Cass or any child fathered out of wedlock. This copy evidently stopped updating after Cyrus’s birth. Still, it confirmed Edna’s link. So many secrets in this family, I thought, snapping the Bible shut. My mind whirled. Edna had no idea Cass existed, at least not as a relative. I wouldn’t betray Cass’s confidence. That was his story to share. Still, I had to tell Edna about her proven lineage.
Dashing downstairs, I fished my phone from the kitchen counter, scanning contacts. I’d gleaned Edna’s number from Bailey once I purchased the property. My fingers felt clumsy as I tapped in the call. Edna picked up on the second ring, voice bright and peppered with a few meows in the background. “Edna Twinkleberry here, who’s calling?”
“Edna, hi, it’s Rory Lancaster. The new owner of the old Barrington mansion.”
“Rory! I’ve been meaning to meet you properly,” she exclaimed, delight in her tone. “What can I do for you?”
“I, um…found something important as I was sorting through the previous owner’s things,” I said carefully. “Would you be free for lunch? We can talk in person.”
She let out a bemused laugh. “Something important? Then of course. Let’s meet at Mistletoe & Mochas café around noon?”
I agreed, my heart still pounding. Hanging up, I squared my shoulders. I’ll show her the Bible, or at least explain the details. She deserves to know. Meanwhile, I’d keep Cass’s identity private. He’d have to choose if or when to reveal himself to his cousin.
An hour later, I entered the cafe, the same cozy spot Bailey had told me about. Bright midday light streamed through large windows, and the aroma of fresh bread made my empty stomach clench. I spotted a woman who I was certain was Edna near the back, sporting a neon-green sweater patterned with cartoon cats playing in a bank of snow. We made eye contact, and I smiled. She stood and waved me over enthusiastically, her bob of silver hair bouncing.
“Rory, dear!” she greeted, eyes sparkling behind oversized glasses. “So happy to meet you! I’m so pleased you called!”
I settled across from her in the booth. A waitress approached, and we ordered soup and sandwiches. Edna insisted on a bowl of clam chowder and a grilled cheese with extra pickles. “I adore pickles,” she confided. “Can’t get enough of them.”
Despite the swirl of nerves, I felt myself begin to relax. Something about Edna’s bright mismatch of colors—cat-print scarf, polka-dot purse—and cheery demeanor calmed me. She exuded warmth, making me think she would’ve been a wonderful caretaker for the estate if she’d gotten her cat sanctuary wish.
Once our drinks arrived, I cleared my throat. “Edna, I remember hearing from Bailey that you believed you might be related to Cyrus Barrington. That you overheard family rumors. Is that right?”
She leaned forward eagerly. “Yes, but I never had proof. My grandmother was said to be connected somehow. I tried to research, but it led nowhere. Then Theodore wanted to demolish the property for commercial development. I was stuck in that silly feud. But luckily, my honey and I worked things out.”
Nodding, I drew a slow breath. “Well, I found the Barrington family Bible. It shows your mother was actually Cyrus Barrington’s older half-sister. She’d been the result of the union between Cyrus’s father and his first wife, who later remarried as well, to a man with the last name of Hall. He adopted your mother and gave her his surname. The long and the short of it is—you’re Cyrus’s niece.”
Edna’s eyes widened. She clutched the table. “Niece? Oh my, so I wasn’t delusional after all.”
I shook my head. “No, you weren’t.”
Tears gleamed in the woman’s eyes as she processed what I’d revealed. A moment of silence passed as she sniffed, rummaging in her purse for a tissue. “All this time, I thought maybe I was chasing a dream.”
“That’s why I wanted to meet. I know how it feels to want clarity.” My voice wavered, but I pressed on. “Edna, if you want the mansion now…if you feel it’s rightfully yours…I’d be willing to sell it to you at a fair price.”
She blinked in astonishment, dabbing her cheeks. “Sell me the property? But dear, I no longer need it.” She held up her left hand, a gigantic solitaire ring catching the light. “Theodore and I got engaged last week. We’ve decided to invest in this verycafé, turning it into a cat café. We’ll build an annex to house homeless felines, rehabilitate them for adoption. It’s my dream come true!”
My heart brimmed with relief…and a pang of gratitude. “That’s wonderful, Edna. So you’re sure you don’t want the old house?”