Читать книгу Ever After - Odessa Gillespie Black - Страница 9

Two oval-shaped, emerald eyes emerged from the overgrown thickets beyond the gate. Three feet away, a waist-high cat crept closer. Its head was twice the size of mine. Its lip curled up. One razor-sharp tooth could have sliced straight through me. Its black, shiny coat shimmered in the moonlight. It stopped, all four muscular legs locked, twitching.

I took one step back, but the cat’s triangular head lowered as it put its weight on its back haunches. A low, guttural growl rolled over in its chest. Moonlight glinted off its eyes as it narrowed them to slits. The monstrous cat sauntered to the left, then halted.

Holding lifelessly still, I trembled. My breath burned in my lungs.

In a long, black fluid movement, the cat turned toward me. It took one step and halted, lowering its head to assess me. Tilting its head as it took me in, it growled again.

I tried to inch back but stopped when something dark and shadowy slinked across the ground between us.

The cat lunged.

I tried to dart to the left but stumbled back.

The cat’s long body stretched and soared over me.

I tumbled backward down the embankment. I stopped rolling and slid on my stomach, but the momentum I’d built dragged me downward. Rocks and exposed fingers of roots scratched my stomach and tore my nails as I grasped for something, anything to hold.

Rocks and dirt broke free from the embankment and landed on my shoulders. Every tree root I grabbed for snapped, causing me to slide more.

I scrambled and dug at anything that would slow my ascension, when an arm scooped from nowhere and brought me to a stop. My nails dug into flesh as I scrambled for a sturdy hold.

Hot, irregular breath washed over my face as my slight frame slammed into the long body of a human, a male.

He leaned in with me toward the embankment, grasping me firmly to his chest. His strong arms eased me down to a firmer footing. When the moonlight gave me partial view of his face, the air was sucked from my body. The smooth planes of his face weren’t possible.

High cheekbones, a clenched jaw line, and a pair of perfectly set apart eyes were haloed by wavy brown hair that brushed his cheeks. He held me so close our noses could have touched. His forearms were perfectly capable of tossing me fifty yards with no effort.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you now. The screaming is really unnecessary,” he said in an accent I couldn’t place, though I’d heard it before. A serious, aggravated expression creased the stranger’s forehead.

Breathe. I had to breathe or I’d pass out.

He loosened his grip on me and turned me to face the embankment.

Out of his embrace, air was colder and breathing was more difficult.

The young man wiped his eyes and surveyed the roots beside and below us. He grimaced and placed my hand on a sturdy tree root. When he turned back to me, he locked me into a gaze that could have melted titanium. For a moment, the space between me and this mysterious stranger thickened with electric, sizzling air.

My lungs stopped burning, but my heart stammered.

“Can I have my hand back?” His body stiffened under my touch.

No.

Reluctantly, I released him from my grip.

The stranger gently placed my other hand on another root. He left his hand over mine for a second and turned that unsettling gaze back to me. He shuddered slightly and tensed. “Now would you try not to get yourself killed if I jump to the pond edge and guide you down?”

I nodded.

“There, put your foot on that rock.” He gestured to a white stone that jutted like a bony elbow out of a wall of red mud. “You should be able to find a rock for each step almost to the bottom.”

Far below me, he’d landed with perfect ease. I was still four full body-lengths above his head. Pressing my body closer to the embankment, I used the dirt wall to support my forehead. Slow, deep breaths steadied my thrashing heart.

“It’s not that far now. Just ease your right foot about two feet down. You should find the loop of a root to stand on.”

In a few seconds, he’d guided me as far down the wall as I could go without having to jump. The rocks and small roots were too unstable for footing.

“When you jump, push back from the wall. Don’t worry. I’ve got you. I promise.”

That voice. It reverberated inside me. My head swam. I gripped at another loose root. A stone broke free, and I began to slip.

Expecting to meet with the ground, the stranger caught me under my back and legs. His shirt was soft and seductively musky under my cheek.

He put me down but kept me in the loop of his arms. His grip didn’t loosen immediately. “Can you stand?”

That accent. Where had I heard it?

The air thickened and the night sounds silenced.

His arms were vice grips as his heart slammed against my chest. “You’re going to have to walk.”

My cheeks burned. I stepped out of his arms as a searing pain spread through my hand.

He started to say something but stopped. A jagged rock had slashed my palm open. He took a deep breath and held it as blood splattered the ground. It covered the front of his T-shirt. Stumbling back, he stuttered.

“We should get that”—he turned away from me—“cleaned up and bandaged.” His voice was monotone. He stepped farther away.

“It’s just a little blood,” I said and started to the pond. Just as my fingers grazed the water, he grabbed me by the waist and jerked us both back where we toppled to the ground.

“What’s wrong with you?” I flinched out of his grip.

“It’s stagnant. You want an infection to set in, go ahead and dip your hand in there.” His voice was cold. He pulled his T-shirt around and, with little or no effort, wrenched a long strip off, bearing some of his stomach in the process. Slapping the fabric around my hand, he jerked it into an angry knot.

I cried out.

He regarded me with sympathy for the first time since the fall, and loosened the knot. A little. Sounding so proper it was out of place, he said, “I wouldn’t purposely cause you pain. I apologize.”

“I’ll be fine.” I held my hand up to slow the blood flow, but it still soaked the T-shirt. And it hurt. Bad. Tears threatened to break free, but I refused them.

The guy inspected the knot and shook his head.

“I’m such a klutz.” I pressed the wounded hand to my chest.

“Apply pressure,” he said, the last word through clenched teeth. He put space between us as he distracted himself with looking between the embankment and a path that led off into the woods behind the pond.

The full moon’s light slid down his chocolate brown hair to his muscular neck and over his shoulders.

How could a man look that good in a simple white T-shirt and not be poised on the front of a magazine?

As he considered our options, he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If I take you back up the bank, we’ll only cut your hands further, but if we take the path through the woods, it’ll take an hour to get back around to the driveway. You get all her money. You could at least have the brains not to fall down an embankment.”

“And this is my fault?” Everyone here considered me a trailer park, gold digger. Rage raised my voice an octave. “A big cat almost ate me, and I was trying to—wait.”

He didn’t look at me.

The rage dissipated to suspicion. How did you just happen to catch me in the middle of my almost-plummet to death? And how did you get away from that cat?”

His face twitched in the moonlight. “I come down here a lot. Tonight, I was walking the edge of the pond when I heard your screams, so I climbed the wall. When I saw you start to fall, I jumped to where I knew there was good enough footing to catch you. I barely escaped the cat myself. Now, are you coming or are you staying out here with the carnivores?”

“So, you just expect me to roam into the woods with a stranger? In the dark? Alone?”

“An animal just tried to eat you. It’s fine by me if you want to stick around to see how long it takes for him to come back for seconds. Otherwise, I’m Cole Kinsley.” He jutted out his hand in mock offering. “We’re no longer strangers, so let’s get you back home before my uncle sends out a search party.”

Cole took his hand back before I could infect him with trailer park germs.

“You’re Cole,” I repeated. That made sense. Well, sort of. I hadn’t expected the weed eater guy to be Thomas’s mean nephew.

Trailer park rolled over and over in my mind. The jab was completely undeserved, and jab is just what I wanted to do to him. Right in the eye.

“I see my uncle’s been talking.”

“If you didn’t want me in your girlfriend’s room, all you had to do was come tell me instead of yelling it through the house.”

“I find it disrespectful to sleep in a dead girl’s room. And equally disrespectful to eavesdrop,” he said through tightly clenched teeth. He squared his shoulders and turned away, continuing without me. “And the trailer park remark. You know what they say. You can take the girl out of the trailer park. You know the rest.”

“Eavesdrop? I’m sure I’m not the only person in the house who overheard you rambling on like a lunatic. And if this is about your precious flower bed, I’ll replace the flowers.” Tears burned my eyes. I stomped in his path. Well, he was definitely not my dream guy. I had to have been transferring my emotional need over on to the first guy I saw.

Cole turned back. The same weird green flash I’d seen in his eyes at the front entrance sparked again. “Of course, you can afford to re-landscape the whole property. You have all her money.”

That was it. “To set the record straight, you jackass, I’ve never lived in a trailer. Not that I’m above doing so if the situation were to arise. And to be honest, I have no idea why I’m here. If she really did choose me for that, then, she had to be demented or something. No woman in her right mind would leave her whole estate to a stranger.”

“No, when Ava Rollins says—said—she was going to do something, she did it. No matter how outlandish the scheme. And leaving it to you was pretty damned outlandish, if you ask me. Now every member of the staff has to worry if you’re going to sell it off to some kook who’s gonna kick us out on a whim.” He purposely walked faster. What did he do? Run marathons for fun?

“If it is mine, I have no plans to sell it.” I pushed through some brush into a clearing. The lights from the house had disappeared and only night sounds surrounded us.

“So, you’ve decided to stay?” He spun around to grace me with a burgeoning glare.

“I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought. I did just arrive. Some welcoming committee you are.”

“Welcome isn’t the gesture I was going for. You guessed it, Dr. Phil.” Cole made another blow at something he couldn’t know about me.

Had these people seriously researched me before I got here?

“I have no plans of changing anything, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Maybe I could clear up this misunderstanding and stop this guy’s animosity before we got too far out. He was too unpredictable. I’d be safer with Dalton, the known womanizer.

He rambled on. “…and if you don’t know a place, you shouldn’t go off trekking on your own. You never know what trouble you might run across.”

“Well, thank you for the kind direction, sir. Though the advice is about ten minutes and probably twenty stitches too late. I’ll remember that next time I decide to roll down a hill accidentally.”

He walked on, and from behind, his ears lifted a little. He’d smiled. The nerve.

“Who has a ravine behind their house that they don’t warn people about, anyway?”

“The fence? The gate? Didn’t those two big landmarks give you a clue? Come on or you’ll never make it back before dinner.” He waved me on in irritation.

We were quiet for a ways, giving me a chance to simmer down. I remembered the pond. Where had I seen it?

“The pond hasn’t always been a pond. It was cut off from Moonglow Lake. The lake is a reservoir for the northern streams and feeds the southern streams.” The velvety roughness of his voice made it almost impossible to be mad at him, if it weren’t for the inherent cocky undertones. “Mr. Rollins, the original owner of the property, filled in the stream and made it a pond. His daughters used to swim here. Now it’s only fit for turtles and a few fish.”

“Hmm.” There was no need to ask how the lake got the name Moonglow. He’d probably return with a smart-aleck reply.

“They named it Moonglow”—he flashed me an amused look—“because it seems to change color under the moon’s stages.”

God purposely sent wind through the trees, lifting his soft brown hair to settle over his eyes, just to torture me. Every few seconds, he had to do this infuriatingly cute swipe of his hand to brush it away so he could see.

“The main road used to go to the original owner’s daughter’s school. It was a long walk.” He stopped, his attention drawn to the forest beside us. The muscles in his back tensed. His hair stayed in his eyes. He turned and put his forefinger over his lips. Then he did the strangest thing. Cole lifted his chin, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He jerked his head toward me, his eyes wide. He mouthed, “Don’t move.”

“Why? What in the world could you have sm—”

He covered my mouth with his soiled hand.

I jerked back and slapped his hand away.

Okay, surely to goodness he didn’t think he could smell danger. He was probably gonna lick his finger, put it to the wind, and tell me a bear came through there three weeks ago, traveling south. I mean, really. Who did this guy think he was? MacGyver?

“I said quiet,” he seethed.

“I didn’t say anything.” I matched his tone.

His glare pierced me. “There’s a—there’s something out there, and if you don’t want to be its next meal, you’ll shut that aggravating little mouth of yours.”

I’d almost rather have my flesh ripped from my bones with me alive to witness it than to spend another second with the guy. What an ass.

“It’s gone.” He nodded in the direction of the trail. “Come on.”

“If you think I’m going any farther into these woods with you, you’re as crazy as you look.” I planted myself in the weeds, my arms stubbornly crossed.

“It’s stay here and be eaten by the bear that came through here a few minutes ago, or follow me. My dear, I’m the least dangerous animal in these woods.”

“Animal? Yeah, that’s about right.”

He let out something that sounded like a growl again and disappeared into the thick overgrowth.

Where’d he go?

Something moved in the grass to the left of me, and then a stick broke behind me.

“Could you wait up?” I hurried after the psycho. I tried to keep up but tripped and fell every few seconds as Cole professionally scaled the overgrowth. I panted and huffed, and he’d hardly lost his breath. He ducked when branches were too low, lunged to the left and right to dodge thickets of briars, and pulled me around rocks that rose out of nowhere.

“Watch out or you’re going to end up cut all to pieces,” he said.

“How do you know this place so well?”

He paused. “I hunt here.”

“You probably have Bambi’s head mounted on your fireplace just above the stuffed version of the Easter Bunny.” I finally had to stop.

He looked up at the stars, shaking his head. “I never hunt for sport. I may be an ass, but on the flip side, I’m somewhat of an animal rights activist.”

“How endearing,” I said. “A yard guy, who could be a lawyer but chooses to spend all his time in the woods. Sounds sane to me.”

“So what’s your story?” He flashed a thousand watt smile he should have shown more often.

“My story?” The forest birthed us onto a lane covered with trees.

“Yeah, what’s your deal?”

I swallowed. What was my deal? My life story was about as exciting as watching the life cycle of the fly on Animal Planet.

“Twenty-two year old, psych major. Until I met you, I thought mentally troubled people would be less work to be around than my family.

My mother was the only one with any sense. I didn’t know why she bothered. “They’re my blood, but if I had to actually live in the home with them daily, I’d be on the other side of the straight jacket myself. They’re the perfect example of why some mothers eat their young.”

“Where are you from?” His voice was detached. From time to time, his eyes darted to the left.

“Whispering Pines, North Carolina. It’s a lot like Mayberry. You don’t have to lock your doors, and everyone knows everyone. That can be a good thing or a bad thing. Rumors travel faster than my sister.”

“So you do have a sister?”

“What is this? Twenty questions?”

“Just passing the time. It’s a long walk.”

“I’m doing all the talking. What about you?” I tripped over a small branch.

“What about me?”

“Don’t you have family?”

“I don’t talk about them.”

“Figures.” I was just supposed spill all when the most I would probably get from him was his name? Why not talk his head off? My feet hurt, and it’d be a distraction. “I may as well be an only child as far as my other siblings are concerned. They drain Mama dry. I’m invisible unless someone needs clean socks and or a button sewn back on. Now that I have my own apartment near the college, a day doesn’t go by that my jobless brother, Tripp, doesn’t call me to ask me how to work the dryer, since Mama works all the time. And my sister, Arlene. She’s a whole ‘nother story.”

Cole smirked. “Nice accent. Arrrlene.”

“It’s southern, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the only one who’s not from around here. You sound like a bad actor,” I said.

His accent was Northern mixed with, I don’t know, British and Australian or something. But more American than anything. I’d never tell him, but I liked it.

“I traveled a lot as a child. Parents?”

“Do you need to know where I was on the night of the eighteenth? I’m surprised you’re not blinding me with a hot lamp.” I trod on with a nice view of his back.

“Talking about yourself seems to come so naturally. I figured you wouldn’t mind telling me about them, too.”

He set fire to my blood and not in a good way. What a piece of work.

“My father was disabled in a factory accident, but if you ask me, the only thing disabling him is cheap beer. He lies around all day, burning holes in a recliner that outdates me. Mama works from sunup to sundown, trying to keep clothes on our backs. My sister is a stripper, though she told Mama she did volunteer work down at the hospital on night shift. I can still hear Mama’s voice in my head. ‘Why, honey, I’m just so glad you’re spreading yourself throughout the community. It’s generous that you would put that much of yourself out there for another person. I just wish you could get paid for it.’” I laughed.

Cole grinned for the first time. In a pleasant way.

I could see why he was upset with me, I guess. It had been ridiculous to wander where I wasn’t familiar. And anyone in their right mind would have been protective of their dead loved one’s belongings. And now, he would probably get chewed out when we got back home, due to some lawyer nitpicking every little thing he and his uncle did for the next month, whatever that was about.

“I’m not in this for the money. I really came to please my mother. She wouldn’t hush till I came to clear up this misunderstanding.”

He stopped and turned to me. What now?

Cole stepped closer, his eyes dark and serious in the filtered moonlight. Clouds were rolling in.

“If that is true, and you do end up staying here any length of time, it would probably be in your best interest to remember some ground rules. If I warn you away from something, I have good reason.” He sounded much wiser than his age. His dark green eyes mesmerized me. They twitched, and his hard features softened for a fraction of a second.

“You said rules as in plural. Are there more?”

“I’ll inform you when I come up with more.” Cole shuddered as his dark pupils locked onto something inside me. His voice was strangely hollow. Silence. He regarded me thoughtfully, the anger slipping from his face. His chest rose and fell faster.

The sounds of the night disappeared, my heartbeat replacing them.

Cole’s features hardened again, his face pinched in anguish. He took a step closer. Through a clenched jaw, he said, “You’re beautiful.”

The statement sounded like he’d added it to a list of reasons not to like me.

What did you say to that?

What did you say to anything this guy said?

“Um.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry?”

Cole stepped in closer, only inches between us. His heart beat loud enough to hear. Or maybe that was mine. With a wild look, he surveyed my face, letting the back of his fingers brush my cheek. His hand slid down my arm. He took my hand and flipped it over to inspect the bandage. His dark gaze raked back up my face, and he leaned in. “How are we going to explain this? I should have found a way to keep you from falling. He already thinks the sun rises and sets in the crack of your—never mind. If that gets infected, I’ll be banished from the house for the remainder of your stay.”

Wow. I really thought that would go somewhere different. I wagged my head, steamy heat filling my cheeks. I wasn’t so good at reading guys, apparently. “He can’t blame you for something that’s not your fault. I was being careless. You couldn’t have known I would take a tumble down that bank.”

Cole stepped back, ignoring our previous closeness. He nodded toward the road. “Come on. We’re almost there. Can’t say I’m looking forward to this little reunion.”

“I’ll explain what happened. Surely, he won’t be too mad.”

“You don’t know my uncle. And on that note, you also don’t know how people can turn into vultures when someone dies. Be careful who you associate with after the will is read. You’ll have money, and not being too hard on the eyes will make you an easy target. I don’t have all day, every day to devote to you, but if anybody gives you trouble, let me know. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the trailer park remark. It was a little out of line.” Without further hesitation, he led me down the lane.

I followed silently.

We walked for what seemed like miles, but I floated the whole way.

“The gate is just ahead.”

Probably miles ahead. His legs wouldn’t feel it, but when I sobered from the flattery, my legs would be spongy.

“Tomorrow, when you decide to go on some more of your little treks, don’t go into the apple orchards or the catacombs under the house, at least not without an escort,” Cole said in his renewed aggravated tone. “Given your clumsy nature, you’re liable to trip on a twig and break something.”

This place had catacombs? Instant intrigue. “You can’t tell a ‘troublemaking girl’ like me about something that mysterious and expect me to stay away. That’ll be the first thing I venture into.”

“How did I know?” He raked a hand through his hair.

“Why are there passages?”

“Mr. Rollins put them under the house in case the Northern soldiers tried any more of their shenanigans.”

We walked on a bit.

The fence was exactly like the other half I’d driven by from the other direction in the daylight. Tonight it was a little more menacing with Frasier firs thickly lining it from the inside.

“What’s the need for all this fence?”

“Privacy. Gypsies used to come through this area, and Mr. Rollins didn’t like them squatting on his land. Said they made a big mess and never cleaned things up when they left.” Cole sniffed with distaste.

“You sound like you knew him.”

Cole tensed. “May as well have. I’ve heard all the stories.”

“I’ve only been here a few hours, and I’ve heard some myself. Why do you think people died on the fourth floor?”

“They didn’t die on the fourth floor.” Cole’s expression hardened to stone. His jaw worked as he walked. Faster. “They fell and died in the flower bed.”

“You didn’t actually witness a death, did you?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?” His jaw worked harder.

“Only when I feel someone’s not being truthful.”

“Another rule. When it’s not your truth to know, keep your nose out of it. Now could you hurry? This isn’t a leisurely stroll. I might work for you, but I am off the clock right now, and this is my time you’re wasting. Some of us have to eat, you know.”

“Do you have to be so mean?”

“Yes. It keeps unwanted attention at bay.”

“Seems to me you’re masking a semi-decent personality with a masculine I-don’t-need-anyone front. That has to be lonely.”

“Just the way I like it. We’ll cut through and go in the back way.” He nodded toward a long stretch of fence. He pushed three vine-covered bars inward, causing an awful metal on metal moan. A hidden gate. Cole disappeared through overgrown foliage, leaving me behind.

I followed and jumped at the rattle and clash of the gate slamming, with me barely through it.

“You have to slam it to get it shut,” he explained with a sexy flick of his brow. Inside the fence, this remote corner of the property was lamp lit, spotlighting Cole’s wicked grin.

That was it. I hated him.

“You could have waited till I was through.” I could have slapped him.

“I told you to hurry.” He walked on, not waiting for me.

I hadn’t seen the back of the house from the pasture. It had to be the house from my dream on the plane. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized the pond.

How had I dreamed of the pond, the house, and this ridiculously rude guy, never having been here?

I wobbled, unable to breathe.

In dream-like slow motion, Cole turned. His hands fell limp at his sides, and his mouth hung open. When he saw my face, the shock left him.

My legs became heavier, and my head could have floated off into the stars.

Cole had been steps away but was beside me in seconds.

“What did you just—are you okay?” He gripped my forearms, steadying me.

“Low iron.” He’d make fun of me if I told him.

Did the woman in the bottom of the pond want the house?

Over my shoulder, the dark path to the pond beckoned me back to the dream. The dank water choked me. The sludge suctioned my feet. And those hands, ugh, those horrible detached hands.

Cole shook his head slowly, still holding my arms.

“Another rule. Do not, under any circumstances, go any farther than the rose maze without an escort.” The breeze stilled. No crickets chirped. Cole’s eyes glazed over. An electric current sizzled under his palms. He jerked back. “If you have fainting spells or whatever, then the last thing we need is you lost in the wilderness. Women have a place, and it’s not meddling all over in the dark. You won’t find any money buried anywhere outside, I can assure you.”

Cole did an about face and left me.

“You have serious issues.”

Cole stopped, yet kept his back to me. “You have no idea.”

* * * *

We reached the back steps of the house, where Thomas charged us from the rear entrance.

“I see you two have formally met.” He glared at Cole, but when he saw my makeshift-bandaged hand, he shot Cole an accusing look. “Another injury?”

Another?

“It was an accident. I assure you.” Cole’s tone was sharp.

Thomas was angry. Too angry.

“I wasn’t paying attention and fell down that ravine behind the rose maze. If it hadn’t been for Cole, I’d have probably broken my neck.” Thomas checked me over.

Cole stalked across the patio.

Thomas ushered me inside.

The ballroom sounded lively. There was no one to be found anywhere else. Loud laughing and music filtered down the hall.

Once in the light of the grand entrance, Thomas got a good look at my dirty face and less than acceptable appearance.

“This is unacceptable. How could you let this happen?” he said to Cole, then turned to me. “I am so sorry, Miss Knowles. If there’s anything I can do to make this up to you…”

“You could start with calling animal control. There’s a big, black cat lurking around out there. What’s for dinner?” Rubbing his stomach, Cole looked to the kitchen.

Food? Seriously?

“I’m surprised you haven’t had dinner yet, as long as you were gone.” Thomas’s voice was hard.

“I was sort of interrupted,” Cole said, flashing me a smirk. “Mary Poppins there took a little fall, and she’s right. If I hadn’t been there, she’d have probably ended up fish food in the bottom of the pond, cat or no cat. I think she’s new to walking.”

Thomas shook his head and took my other arm.

I stared down at the dirty blood on the strips of white cotton. Some looked brown and dried, some looked fresh.

“Let’s get you bandaged up and worry about dinner later. Do you think it needs medical attention?” Thomas gingerly took the piece of Cole’s shirt off the wound.

“It’s a superficial laceration. The rock only breached the dermis. The wound has already closed. It looks worse than it is.” Cole passed us.

Almost-lawyer, business consultant, over-zealous yard care manager, raving lunatic. Covered in dirt and looking like a homeless person, he did not fit the doctor persona.

“Thank you, Dr. Kinsley, for that fine evaluation.”

“Anytime, Dr. Phil.” He disappeared through the door.

He could be such an—ugh!

After I cleaned up, and Cole did whatever people with multiple personality disorder do in their down time, Thomas insisted we all sit together in the dining room. He sat at an empty place setting, staring between Cole and me.

“I hope you’ll excuse me for not eating. My appetite was spoiled when you didn’t come back from your walk, Miss Knowles. I thought the worst.”

“You’re perfectly fine. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“I’m just glad you made it back in one piece. I should have never left you alone.” He flashed Cole a curious glare. “Other than the mishap, I hope you took good care of Miss Knowles.”

Cole’s mouth was gorged, so he didn’t answer.

“And hopefully you remembered your manners,” Thomas said.

“Other than inviting me to skinny dip in that nasty pond, I was virtually unoffended. He needs to learn how to deliver a line. He’ll never get a date that way.”

Cole made a garbled choking noise but finally found air to speak.

“I did not,” he said through half-chewed food. His glare could have sliced metal.

“He didn’t really, but he isn’t the best welcoming party I’ve ever encountered.” I smirked at Cole. Served him right for the trailer park remark.

“Well, that dreadful hole should be filled.” Thomas looked at Cole with deep set meaning.

Cole rattled his fork in his plate like a two year old. “It’s so far back on the property, other than the occasional idiot who isn’t watching where they’re going, it’s yet to bother anyone.”

First trailer park. Now idiot. That was okay. I’d fix him.

Thomas’s head swiveled back and forth between us as I stood from my place setting.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m quite tired.” I turned a pointed glare at Cole. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind finishing up the tour tomorrow morning, would you? Uncle Thomas barely made it to the rose maze this evening without gasping for air, it was so hot.”

Cole flashed a Please-Save-Me look to his uncle.

I slid my chair in and clapped my hands happily. “Then it’s settled. See you bright and early.”

Cole’s face paled. He dropped his fork.

Thomas’s uncomfortable gaze was locked on the wood grain pattern of the table.

I wiggled my fingers good night.

* * * *

When I reached the parlor door, the recovered long, black, and gold casket was centered between two windows on the far side of the room. Since I’d been delivered to the property earlier this evening, I’d been yanked so fast back and forth between strange occurrences, I’d forgotten the real reason I was here.

A dead woman.

A puff of gray hair poked from the top of the casket. Standing at the threshold, I bowed my head.

Visiting her body up close would too be weird. Maybe after I saw paintings and pictures. She had taken time to get to know me, so why not do a little investigating of my own.

“I think we have a problem,” Thomas said. His voice trembled with worry.

“You think?” That had been Cole. His voice was so smooth. And the accent was unmistakable.

“You like her.” Thomas’s voice was grave.

My lungs solidified.

“Not a snowball’s chance in that. I can handle myself. I’ve done it for years, though I appreciate your concern.” Cole’s plate and silverware clattered. His footsteps moved nearer.

“I’m just trying to keep you in line. She obviously gets under your skin.”

“I’m only doing my job. I kept her from falling down an embankment. That’s it. And, as you can see, she isn’t impressed with me in the slightest.”

I leaned against the cold stone wall, pressing my hands flat.

“And a cat. She was almost eaten by a cat? She could have been killed.”

“The only thing you should worry about is me throwing her in that pond if she is nearly as irritating tomorrow as she was today.”

“There are a number of other guys who could take her on that tour.”

“Aren’t you curious as to why Ava Rollins gave her everything she owned? I am, and I plan to find out why.” Cole’s voice was final.

At least we were on the same page about something.

I hurried upstairs.

* * * *

A calming shower washed away the dirt from the fall. On the feather bed, a lump poked my right cheek. As old as the mattress was, it was probably rotten. It would be a long night.

With the lights off, the room was even bigger and more horror-movie-esque. Opening the drapes allowed the moonlight in. I stood in its glow for a few minutes and then turned back to the bed that would have consummated a fairytale couple’s wedding vows. Its posts were as big around as my body and looked like Roman columns with added carvings of souls wrapped from the floor to the canopy top. Surprisingly, the soft feathers enveloped me into a perfect body-shaped indention.

The dark lonely room fell away to pleasant but unsettling dreams.

A well-traveled path in the woods behind this house opened to a stream with worn grass along the edges. Tinkling water wrapped itself around rocks as it flowed down to a pond or lake. I almost stepped on a young man lying stretched over the softer grass of the bank. A hat covered his face. A makeshift fishing pole poked from between his toes. Muscles worked in his arms as he moved the hat from his brow.

My chest was crushed from the inside but gloriously full of admiration at the same time. And I hated it.

“Oh, it’s you. Shouldn’t you be playing with a doll somewhere?” he said, his voice between high and velvety.

Grass green eyes. Legs so long they poked out of tattered brown pants. Dark skin and well-defined muscles that could have only come from the working-class. Fifteen or sixteen years old.

“Annabeth? You in there?”

Who was Annabeth? And why couldn’t I place his face or his name?

My Victorian dress draped the ground and showed enough cleavage to encourage impure thoughts from any man. Tendrils of light-colored curls fell from an updo I’d never wear, the breeze blowing them across my face.

“Shouldn’t you be plowing a field somewhere?”

He sat up from the balled up piece of cloth he’d used as a pillow. A look I’d seen thousands of times before, but where I didn’t know, slid across his tanned cheeks, putting his red lips in a gorgeous smirk. He rifled around in a sack beside him, brought out some worms, and jerked his line in. When he tossed the hook to my feet and slid a bowl of pulsating dirt against the hem of my dress, my stomach churned, but I sat down.

“You ever put a worm on a hook?” he asked, just one corner of his lips turning up. My heart hiccupped. God, he was gorgeous.

Sitting knees to the side, I blushed when the dress’s bodice pushed even more cleavage into his visibility. The devilish grin diminished.

“I bet you’re too scared,” he said, his voice low, gravelly, and tantalizing.

I fell more into the dream, as certain details about her life sewed themselves in place of mine. They, I’m not sure who all that entailed, but they always thought I was just a little girl. Not caring that doing so increased the eyeful he’d already gotten, I leaned forward and took the pole. His eyes simmered into a gaze he’d given me a time or two, but my older sister always interrupted the moments.

Determination welled inside me. I hated worms, dirt, and anything that yielded poking the guts out of a living creature.

“I’m not scared to try anything once.” I shot him a meaningful glance.

He leaned back on his elbows, his eyebrows furrowing, a devilish smile on his sun-warmed cheeks.

The fat worm wriggled in the soil and would surely ruin my dress. This was not sexy. It wiggled between my fingers, begging for one last chance at life.

I took a deep breath and stabbed the worm. Pink tinged guts came out on the end of the hook. My stomach lurched, but I held my composure.

“You might just have some potential.” The guy’s brow rose with a smirk. He threw a piece of grass at me. When I ducked my head and batted my lashes shyly, his grin fell away. He put the fishing pole against a tree.

He tilted his head, his pupils dilating as he looked into me instead of at me. In that moment, the earth shattered and reassembled itself. A million butterflies lifted my stomach into my chest when he scooted over, laying down more grass as he took the place beside me. For a few seconds, the air was thick. Heat prickled my face as his lips neared mine.

Then I knew. I loved him.

“Potential for what?” A high-pitched blast came from behind us.

We jumped apart. A girl, a few years my senior, jabbed her fists into her hips and from her dark brown eyes, shot me daggers of hatred. “Mama’s looking for you.”

The dream fizzled away, and I floated for a few seconds. Then my legs pumped against the ground, my lungs searing.

A rotting corpse was three feet behind me and gaining speed. I turned, slid, and darted between walls of endless roses, their thorns catching the skirts of my dress.

She got a handful of fabric and jerked.

I flailed, slipping from her grip. Fabric tore. I tripped on a cement bench in the next turn and limped on the stinging knee. Rose-briars sliced my face. When I could breathe no longer, I collapsed in the corner of two rose walls, thorns prickling my back.

Bony fingers reached through the wall and bit into my shoulders. The corpse pulled me kicking and screaming through the thorny partition.