Page 40 of The Clifftop Cottage

Digging.

He stopped short.

“Trying your hand at gardening in autumn?” he said lightly, opening the back of the van to let Chep out. The dog leapt down and immediately disappeared into the bushes.

Erica jumped slightly, then straightened, brushing dirt from her palms. She wasn’t dressed for this. Pale jumper, white jeans, cream scarf already smudged at the edges.

“How’s the kitten?” he asked. “Still with us?”

She beamed. “He’s sleeping. Oh, Gabriel, thank you so much. He’s much better now.” Clapping her hands free of dirt, she crossed to him. Then, almost sheepish, “You caught me snooping.”

“Snooping?” His gaze slid back to the disturbed soil.

“Well …” She grimaced. “Margery told me this place has folklore attached to it. A woman who lived here. A witch, apparently. She said there was something left behind in the garden, carvings or something else?”

He didn’t look at the ground again. If he did, he was sure he’d see them – the faint marks beneath the moss and years and soil. Two small letters. Carved by a woman no one remembered properly.

His father had found them once.

After that … things hadn’t gone right.

“Just a story,” he said too quickly. “Old houses collect them.”

“You know something,” Erica said. Not accusing. Just observant.

He hesitated. “There are … initials. That’s all. Nothing worth digging up.”

Her eyes flicked back to the earth. “Initials?”

“Forget it.” The words came out clipped. He rubbed his jaw. “My dad restored this place. Found all sorts of things. Most of them better left where they were.”

“Better left?” she echoed.

He looked away, out to the cliffs. “Some things are better left alone.”

For a moment, the wind filled the space between them.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Erica said softly. “I just … felt drawn to it, I suppose.”

He believed her. That somehow made it worse.

“I only came to check on you both,” he said, deliberately gentler. “See if you needed anything.”

“No, we’re fine, thanks. I’ll head into town later, maybe see my sister.” She hesitated. “I think he’ll be okay now. He’s out of danger. But I was wondering … do you know of a cat home nearby? Or anyone who might want a kitten?”

Gabriel smiled. His sister would take in a stray in a heartbeat, but she wouldn’t thank him for adding to her never-ending list of chores.

Erica disappeared inside and came back with the tiny black bundle tucked against her chest.

“He’s rather lovely,” she said.

Gabriel watched the way the kitten melted against her. The way she held him like she wasn’t aware she was doing it.

“I think he’s perfectly happy here, don’t you?” Gabriel glanced over at Chep, who was thankfully too engrossed in a bush on the far side of the garden to take notice.

Erica’s expression flickered with something like alarm. “Oh, I don’t do pets. Never have.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t start now.” Gabriel smiled. “I don’t mind if you keep him here. Suits the place.”