Love Beyond Belief (Book 7 of Morna’s Legacy Series) (8 page)

“Well, that’s all right. You just haven’t acquired a knack for it yet. Why don’t I give you a quick lesson? You can help me get familiarized with the kitchen in the process.”

Anne smiled and reached over to a set of hooks on the wall to grab us each an apron.
 

“Sounds perfect. Teach me to cook one dish perfectly. Then, I’m turning it all over to you. By dinner, the kitchen will be officially yours.”

CHAPTER 11

My mother was a nervous woman. No matter the situation. She was just as nervous making her weekly trips to the grocery store as she would be meeting the Queen of England. She could make herself sick with worry over just about anything. She was stunning and looked wonderful in everything, but there were always at least half a dozen outfit changes before she ever left the house.
 

I was the exact opposite. Nothing rattled me. I could make myself at home in just about any situation, and my natural confidence was so at odds with her personality that she would always joke that she must have brought the wrong baby home from the hospital.
 

I didn’t care what people thought about me. I knew what I thought about myself and that was all I was concerned with. If someone didn’t like me—well—they were a fool.
 

My younger sister worried much like my mother. I always thought the nerves just skipped me, but today I felt more like the both of them than I ever had before.
 

Never had the thought of picking out an outfit caused me such anxiety. I stood there wrapped tightly in my favorite robe staring down at not six, not seven, but eight different outfits, and not a one of them seemed good enough.

What did one wear to dinner in a castle? I didn’t expect it to be formal, but how casual was too casual? I hadn’t a clue.
 

Eventually, I decided on a pair of skinny jeans that I could tuck into a pair of black boots that went nearly up to my knee. I paired them with a dressy red sweater and called it good.
 

“Knock, knock.”

I glanced up from my efforts to put away all of the clothes I’d tossed around so carelessly to see that I’d unintentionally left my door cracked open. Before I could answer, it slowly swung open the rest of the way as an ornate cart entered the room. Stepping toward the doorway, I looked to see who was pushing it—a bright-eyed little boy with the friendliest smile and cutest freckles ever.
 

“Well, hello there. You look a little young to be working. I sure hope this isn’t your job.”

I smiled at him. The young boy didn’t miss a beat, laughing as he pushed the cart over to me and pouring me a cup of coffee.
 

“Nah, I don’t work here. I’m just staying here with my family. I just wanted to come and say hi to you. You’ll be seeing a lot of me, I’m sure. I like to run all over the place. I thought you might be tired, too, since you traveled so far. Do you want some coffee? I’m sort of like the official coffee maker around here.”

I grinned and nodded at him, moving to sit at a small table near where he stopped his cart.
 

“Yes, please. I am tired. I took a little nap earlier, but it didn’t seem to do me a lot of good. I’m sure your coffee will help me immensely. May I ask you your name? I’m Sydney.”

He handled the coffee pot and little basin of creamer so carefully, stirring it all together before dropping two cubes of sugar into the cup. He didn’t ask me how I liked it. I could tell from the precision of his pour and the familiarity of his movements that he probably made it the same way for everyone.
 

“Oh, it will help. Especially this cup—Morna found the creamer. Usually, I just use the plain white stuff, but this one is supposed to taste like hazelnuts, I think. Hope that’s okay.”

“I’m sure it will be perfect.”

He extended the cup in my direction and spoke once again as I took hold of it.
 

“Oh, I forgot. I’m Cooper.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Cooper. This is really so thoughtful. Thank you.”
 

I lifted the drink to my lips, and I could see by the nervous jitter of his feet that he was waiting to see what I thought. I expected it to be sweet with as much sugar and creamer as he placed in it, but instead a taste so bitter hit my tongue that I had to swallow hard to keep from spewing it all over him. Twice in one day I’d been assaulted by really terrible food and beverage. No wonder they were so desperate for a chef.
 

Doing my best to mask my disgust, I tried to smile, but my lips trembled a little as I opened them. I couldn’t believe the words that came out of my mouth.
 

“That is the worst coffee I’ve ever had.”

What was the matter with me? I knew better than to hurt a little boy’s feelings that way. They hadn’t at all been the words I meant to say.
 

I braced myself to comfort what I expected to be a crying child. Instead, the boy pulled his brows together and crossed his arms inquisitively.
 

“Terrible? That’s not possible, ma’am. I make really good coffee. Everybody says so. Unless…” he paused and pointed at the tray. “It wasn’t my coffee but the creamer. I’ll find out for you. Don’t drink another sip.”

There wasn’t any chance of me taking another sip. While I didn’t really want him to have to taste the atrocity of his concoction, I could see I wouldn’t be able to stop him.
 

He started by pouring just a little bit of straight coffee into a separate cup, taking a quick swig and swishing it around in his mouth. His face gave nothing away.
 

“Nope. Not my coffee.”
 

He then reached for a cube of sugar, swiftly popping it in his mouth. He smiled while it dissolved.
 

“Definitely not the sugar. Only one thing left.”

I grimaced as he brought the basin of creamer to his lips and threw back a swallow big enough to kill a horse. He gagged and fell back onto his bottom as he spit and made a horrible face in between disgusted groans.
 

“Oh my gosh. Do you think it’s spoiled?”

Remembering an unopened bottle of water in my bag, I ran over to grab it for him, tossing it in his direction before I answered him.
 

“It doesn’t taste spoiled. It just tastes awful. You should probably tell your friend not to give her stuff to anyone else. Are you all right?”

Cooper stood, shook himself off, and gulped the bottle of water.
 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m gonna have to let Morna have it though. She had to have known that didn’t taste good. I’m so sorry. How about some coffee with just plain sugar?”

I couldn’t possibly stomach another sip of coffee, but the woman’s name that the boy mentioned rang a bell it hadn’t before.
 

“Oh, no thank you. I’m fine. I think that sip woke me right up. Did you say Morna helped you with this? Callum warned me about her, I think. She’s kind of crazy, right?”

The boy snickered and walked over to sit in the chair opposite me.
 

“Ha. She wouldn’t like it if she knew Callum said that. She’s a little different, but it’s not because she’s crazy. It’s because she’s a witch.”

“A witch?” I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair curiously. I knew children often made up stories, but he didn’t seem the type. He said it so nonchalantly that I didn’t have the slightest idea how to respond to him.
 

“Yeah, she’s a real good one, too. My stepdad got sliced right down the middle with a sword and so my step-uncle and my step-aunt sent him forward in time to stay at her place, and she healed him. She didn’t do it with medicine. She did it with magic.”

“He went forward in time?” I gasped and raised my voice so I would sound interested rather than confused. Clearly, he was indulging me in some sort of fairy tale, but the lack of lead up to the story caught me off guard.
 

“Yeah, but we go back in time and then forward again all the time around here. I actually live in the year sixteen forty-nine, but I was born in New York City in the year two thousand and eight.”

I did some quick math in my head. The young boy was six, or nearly seven, with an imagination to rival just about anyone, I was sure.

“Well, that is just amazing. What has you staying at the castle now?”

“Oh, well that’s a bit of a long story.”

I couldn’t wait to hear what he came up with. Giving my watch a quick glance, I nodded and settled in for a tale.
 

“I’ve got time. Tell me everything.”

Callum hoped Sydney would be back in the kitchen by now. He didn’t want to enter his bedchamber to retrieve the pair of shoes he left while she was there. If he did, she would know he’d moved out just to give her a bedroom, and he knew she wouldn’t want that.
 

The tower would suit him just fine, though. Anne had a comfy cot placed near the heater, and he could always run over to Orick’s when he needed a shower.
 

He heard the sound of voices as he approached and nearly turned away to come back at a later time, but when he heard the words being said, he stopped short outside the doorway.
 

“Let me get this straight. Almost everyone living at the castle now actually lives back in time, and each morning they travel down a staircase outside into the past?”

Who was Sydney with? Which one of them would be so foolish to tell her about the magic outright? More than that, why did Sydney not sound horrified by the revelation? Was it possible that he’d been wrong about her, and she really had known all along?

Callum took a step closer to listen in further.
 

“Yep. That’s right.”

Cooper’s voice. The boy hadn’t been present when everyone decided their plans about Sydney, but his mother told Callum herself that she’d spoken with Cooper about keeping quiet about the magic. Why would he disobey her?
 

“Wow. And this staircase…do you think you have time to show me it before supper?”

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to intervene now before Cooper saw fit to drag the lass back into his own time. He stepped into the room, announcing his presence with a reprimand he directed at Cooper.
 

“Lad, did yer mother not speak with ye about how we were to interact with our guest?”

Before Cooper had time to respond, Sydney approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. A jolt of longing shot through him at her touch.

“He’s fine. He hasn’t bothered me at all, I promise. Somebody should really get this little fellow a notepad and some paper because he could be a writer. I’ve never seen a kid with such a vivid imagination.”

Callum audibly sighed in relief at the realization that she didn’t believe a word of Cooper’s stories.
 

“Aye, he does that.” Callum glared at Cooper in an effort to keep him from saying more, but it was too late. The lad was already on his feet and ready to defend himself.
 

“Imagination? I wasn’t making any of that up, Callum, and you know it. Tell her. I don’t want her to think I was just lying to her.”

Callum pulled away from Sydney and moved to crouch down beside Cooper. He whispered his words to the boy. He hoped Sydney stood far enough away not to hear his words.
 

“Cooper, what are ye doing? Dinna ye give yer mother yer word that ye wouldna do this?”

The boy’s eyes grew wide with regret as he answered.
 

“Yeah, I did promise her. I know I did. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time she asks me a question, I can’t say anything but the absolute truth. I try. I think of what I’m going to say, but instead something else comes out. Do you think Sydney is a witch, Callum?”

Callum looked back over his shoulder to see that Sydney had politely stepped away from them.
 

“She’s not a witch, Cooper. What are ye doing in here anyway?”

“It was Morna’s idea. Mom told me I should wait until supper to meet her, but then Morna suggested that she might be kind of sleepy and I should make her some coffee. So I did.”