Cambion Lord (Dark Warrior Alliance #23) - Brenda Trim Page 0,81

Rosemary and mint were the most obvious. The rest I would learn in time if I don’t lose it all to weeds.

I found what I was looking for in the far corner closest to the cemetery. My gaze shifted to the fresh grave. My vision blurred when I read my grandmother’s name. A pinging started up in my head. That was the only way I could describe it.

There was something hitting the walls of my skull. Almost like a bee trapped under a cloche. I’ve never experienced it before in my life. The stress of the past month must be getting to me.

I took a deep breath and thought about my grandma. Isidora Shakleton was unforgettable and an integral part of the town. Most of the residents of Cottlehill Wilds showed up for her service.

The pinging was gone by the time I turned away and walked back to the house. The inside was just as cozy as it appeared on the outside. The back door went right into the kitchen where I dumped the basil before I headed through the small living room and up the stairs to my bedroom.

The patchwork quilt my grandmother made was still on her bed. I was having my clothes and a few of my favorite mementoes shipped to me. The rest was going to the kids.

I really do need a new comforter. And sheets. I made plans to head into the city so I could pick up a nice Down quilt and maybe a new mattress. I swear there were more lumps in the thing than there were on my butt and thighs. And that was saying something.

Being my age, it was shocking if you didn’t carry an extra fifteen or twenty pounds. I know I certainly had the extra cushion. Along with aches and pains, I thought as I bent to pick up the towels Skylar left on the wood floor.

That was one thing I will not miss. The kids, like my late husband never picked up after themselves. And, boy did that get on my last damn nerve. I spent my entire life caring for others. Both at work and at home. It’s in my DNA.

After graduating with my bachelor’s degree in nursing, I worked full-time in the ICU at a local hospital for twenty years then took care of Tim at the end. Perhaps that was what was so inviting about my grandmother’s house. There was no one here for me to take care of.

After washing the toothpaste from the sink, I turned and yelped. “What the fuck?” My mouth got away from me when I noticed the towels back on the ground. Where they hell had they come from? I just picked them up and put them in the laundry basket.

I headed into the other bedrooms and stripped the beds before straightening the covers over the mattresses. When I finished with the room Greyson was staying in I tripped over the sheets that were no longer in their neat little pile.

Pausing, I thrust my hands on my hips and glanced around. Was someone there messing with me? I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, so I picked up the pile and added it to the basket then carried my load downstairs.

When I entered the tiny room at the back of the kitchen where the washer and dryer were, I stopped short when I noticed the soap tipped over on its side. “Alright, grandma, if you’re haunting the place to scare me, there’s no need. I’m not going to make too many changes.”

It felt almost as if the house sighed around me. Shaking my head at my idiocy, I put a load on then entered the kitchen. The sight of the scuffed wooden stool sitting at the butcherblock island reminded me of all the days she used to sit there as a kid and listen to her grandmother tell her stories about Fae and witches.

I envied her creativity. I never could come up with the elaborate ones she did. When I became a mom and my kids started asking for stories, I used my favorites from the ones she told me.

Skylar loved one about a pixie that sought asylum with a witch from a vicious beast that had been hunting her. The pixie barely evaded the beast and barreled through some woods when she came up against a barrier. She pounded her tiny hands on the barrier, begging for help. The witch helped and provided the pixie with some woods