The Lakehouse, Lavender Mist and Rose Petals
Somewhere in central British Columbia where mountains
whisper to the lakes, a magical Forest bestows
miracles on its visitors.
Side effects may cause unexpected consequences.
Chapter Three
Rain, Rain Go Away
Duchess explores the woods.
The Forest whispered, aware of her attention.
Duchess wrenched her gaze away. She was drawn to the woods without knowing why. It was too late to explore without grabbing a flashlight. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough.
The ceramic bowl, measuring cups and wooden spoon were waiting on the counter again when she came down the next morning. The cookbook was on the counter, opened to Maple Walnut Muffins, an apron draped over the counter.
She tied it around her back. “You’re not subtle, are you? Maybe even a bit of a
show-off?”
The oven clicked on, the scent of cinnamon and maple already in the air.
An hour later, she was on the verandah, at one of the cedar tables, muffin and hot coffee beside the open, no-longer-blank journal. She wasn’t sure whether to write in it or if her notes would disappear. She turned the pages. Wyndy’s diagrams from yesterday were still there, little cozy touches added, tiny hummingbirds hovering, smoke furling from the chimneys.
“Hummingbirds again, Wyndy?”
She gazed out at the lake. A family of ducks swam close to the shore, single file.
Time to figure out what she needed. She thought and wrote as she picked at her muffin. The list grew.
- Contractor
CabinsWoodPlumbingWindowsElectrical
(contractor’s problem, not mine!)
- Business Manager
Wi-FiFridges, dishesCoffee Maker
Her pen slipped from her fingers. She dropped her head to her chest.
Her fingers ached. Her coffee had gone cold.
“Oh my God Wyndy,” she whispered, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Misty jumped into her lap, purring. She petted the cat, knowing she needed the caresses as much as the cat.
After lunch she felt strong enough to enter the woods through the meadow and find the cabin on the northwest corner.
It was a glorious sunny day, not a cloud disturbing the wide blue panorama.
A cluster of daisies appeared.
More like a circle than a cluster, mused God’s Little Sister.
Duchess wondered if someone had planted them, then she noticed a small stone angel, arms uplifted, a butterfly perched on the upturned stone palms. Definitely man-made.
She found her way to the wooden bridge over the north end of the creek. The cabin across the way nestled at the foot of Ridge Mountain, was ancient, though not in disrepair. The verandah was swept clean, firewood neatly stacked. Light smoke spiraled out the chimney and drifted toward the mountain. She headed for the door.
She hadn’t yet knocked when the door began to shimmer and a note appeared. White note, handwritten, pinned to the door.
Go Away. Come Again Another Day.
She snorted. “Charming.” She glanced left, then right, not expecting to see anyone, but aware she wasn’t alone. The Forest held its breath.
She shrugged and headed back.
“Rain, rain, go away.” She sang the children’s song. “Come again another —”
A crack of thunder startled her, followed by a spattering of raindrops.
“Well. Aren’t you funny?” Hands on hips, she spun back to the cabin. The rain fell harder. Not a cloud in the blue expanse. She rolled her eyes.
“Fine.” She shouted at the door. “But I will be back another day.”
She gave the empty porch a final once-over, eyebrows raised, and strode back to the path. The curtains fluttered shut.
She didn’t bother going home to dry off, the rain had stopped by the time she reached the circle of daisies. The stone angel had moved a few feet to the left, leaving the daisies sparser in the middle.
Stone angels that eat daisies?
An ancient cabin that held someone who could summon rain on a clear day?
She was a sorceress, the Forest wasn’t disturbing her. But she was half sorceress and her magic had always been a bit…glitchy. Her mother died when she was a young girl, she had never learned the ways of her grandmothers.
She was going to need all the help she could get.
Angus and Mabel’s cottage came into view. The rain let up and a rainbow formed straight out from their thatched roof. They would know who lived in that cabin. She should have asked them before.
“Zed,” Angus said later over tea and sugar cookies.
She covered her teacup. Mabel tilted her head but without a word produced a perfectly brewed cup of coffee.
“Zed has lived in the woods at the foot of the mountain as long as the oaks and stones.” Angus went on. “We hardly ever see him.” He folded his paper and bit into his cookie, the conversation over for him.
“I put groceries and fresh baking on his verandah every so often.” Mabel fussed over her, offering more cookies and coffee. Warmth spread through her chest. It was already feeling like home in the Forest.
She was mulling this over, debating whether there was anything she could do about it, she wasn’t familiar with squatters’ rights.
“Wyndy changes his sheets when he is out for a hike.”
Mabel’s eyes twinkled as visible as a tiny fairy light.
The magic here was strong.
She didn’t wonder any longer why the realtor hadn’t told her about her “tenants.” She bit into her sugar cookie, savoring the reality of it.
She thanked them and set out for the next cottage, heading in the direction Angus had pointed. A soft purr alerted her to Misty padding along beside her, lightly on the mossy floor.
A heavenly melody floated over the treetops and whistled through the leaves. The jays were joining in. The sound of the bubbling creek was louder here. Harp music?
She pushed a branch aside and stepped into a clearing. A two-story purple cottage with turrets, porticos and a verandah rose from the mist. It was both charming and ridiculous.
Misty went ahead. She was met by two slinky black cats. The three danced and slithered
around each other, tails in the air. Greetings were exchanged, chirps, meows and finally purrs as
they lay cozily snuggled around each other in the exact spot the sun broke through the trees.
The music stopped and the pale violet door burst open. A slight girl with long, wavy blond hair held back by a crown of flowers rushed out. She was wearing a sparkling blue gown, trimmed in gold piping, cape billowing.
She stared. The girl was a goddess. Or an angel. Minus the wings.
“Welcome!” the girl cried. “Welcome to Crystal Springs, my home in the Forest.”
Duchess blinked.
“I’m Grace. I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, holding out both arms in what was clearly a hug, not a handshake. Duchess stepped up and hugged her back.
“The House whispered you were coming.” The girl twirled around, cape swirling. She was enchanting.
“I don’t have many visitors. Please join me for tea.” She gestured toward a table carved into a tree stump set with teacups, a coffee mug and a plate of honey and cinnamon cookies.
Grace sat down and poured tea into her cup and coffee into Duchess’s mug, from the same teapot.
Duchess was startled to see her preference for coffee had preceded her. “Do you read minds?”
“No, not exactly,” Grace said, sipping. She put her cup down. “It’s more like feelings, whispers.”
She tilted her head. “If you don’t mind?”
Duchess nodded.
Grace closed her eyes, humming and swaying slightly. She reached out and lightly rested her fingertips on her wrist.
“I’m so happy to feel your love for our Forest,” Grace began. “You have been walking alone for some time. You and the woods will change one another.”
She opened her eyes. “We will all be here to assist you both.”
All?
Duchess wasn’t sure she was entirely comfortable where the teapots and cats possessed more magic than she did.
✨🌲✨