April 5, 1775
William was out of bed the next day when I came to see him. His left arm, bruised and swollen in a sling, lay close to his body. He was writing a letter at his family’s dining table. When I came in, he looked up.
“Can we go for a walk?” William asked as he put down his quill.
We strolled down the road towards the schoolhouse. William carried a blanket over his good arm. A light breeze blew several strands of his hair across his face. The schoolyard stood empty when he took my hand and led me toward the oak tree. I spread the blanket over the ground and goosebumps pricked my skin, because I knew the look in William’s eyes. He leaned forward and pulled me toward him, placing his hand on the small of my back and pressing his lips to mine. The world around me disappeared. All of my senses were devoted to him — the smell of his skin, the touch of his lips, his hand moving up and down my back.
He moved his lips to my ear and whispered, “I love you, Delaney.”
Laney smirked at the slip. Instead of scribbling out her name, she closed her eyes and imagined the scene over and over in her head. She finally dealt with her own stupidity and crossed out her name, writing Anne’s above it.
“I love you too, William.” He managed a slight smile and then glanced past me into the distance.
Finally, I broke the silence. “What is the matter?”
“You know me too well. I do not want to keep things from you. And I wanted the assurance of your love to help me get through it.” Maybe he knew I could see through his actions.
“What are you talking about?” I knew what was coming. It always loomed over our relationship like a dark storm cloud ready to burst.
“We got word this morning that the British are planning to strike our weapon supplies at Barrett’s farm in Concord. Every able man is being called to arms.”
“When?” I could barely get the word out.
“We’re not exactly sure when. A scout has been sent and every eye we have is keeping watch over the Red Coats in Boston.” William rubbed his arm, and I knew that nothing would keep him from fighting alongside his brothers.
“But your arm . . . surely they can’t expect you to hold a musket.” William would want to fight, but I needed him to be reasonable.
“My arm will be fine. I can’t leave my brothers. They need every man they can get. I will go to battle if the British attack.”
I buried my face in his chest, not understanding how our colony needed him more than I did.
“No matter what happens, I love you. I always will.”
Tears flowed too easily these days and all I could do was pray for his safety.
The book searcher stared at Laney from across the room. She forced the corners of her mouth into a smile and started writing again.
“You’re Delaney, right?” The girl moved closer while she spoke. The top of her long black hair hid under a black bowler hat, like the type Charlie Chaplin used to wear. She wore a black and white checkered jacket with a long, flowered broom skirt that brushed against her ankles. She definitely would have fit in with the weird crowd in high school.
Laney put her pencil down. “Do I know you?” She imagined each girl on her floor, room by room, but this girl appeared too young for college.
“No, but I wanted to make sure it was you before you thought I was totally strange.”
It was a little too late for that.
“I’m Natalie Garcia.” The young girl held out her hand to reveal a ring of deep blue. The golden spider inlaid in the ring was smaller than Laney’s, but identical.
Laney’s jaw dropped. “But . . . how?”
“They sent me to find you before things get out of control,” Natalie whispered, looking over her shoulder.
Were they in the middle of a spy movie? “Who sent you?” Multiple questions flashed through Laney’s head. “Where did you get that ring?”
“The Golden Recluse sent me.” Her eyes scanned the stacks again. She ascended three of the stairs and poked her head up through the opening into the floor above.
“Who?” Yes, this girl was turning out to be as strange as her look, but her ring intrigued Laney enough to keep her listening.
“The Golden Recluse. It’s the name we’ve given ourselves. Mark came up with the name. We all have the Weaver’s mark.” She kept a hand on the railing while occasionally glancing up the stairs. “We meet on a regular basis to deal with our gift.”
“What gift?” Laney thought she knew, but had to ask.
“We’re all writers.”
Her story matched Richard’s from the House of Seven Gables. Since that day, Laney avoided her professor beyond normal class conversations.
“So, it’s some kind of writer’s club?” Laney attempted to join such a club in high school, but when she shared a piece with the group, she could tell they were all trying to stifle a laugh. “I’m not interested. I don’t really like to talk about my writing, but thanks anyways.” She lowered her gaze to her paper, hoping that Natalie would either go away or open up more.
“And why’s that? Is it too personal? Have you developed feelings for your characters?” Natalie jabbed her finger at Laney’s journal. “I don’t talk about my writing either, but sometimes it becomes too real and I need someone who understands.”
Laney thought about Jonas in the subway station and the note he left in her bag. She thought about William and the implications of his presence if she wasn’t crazy. Natalie wrote down a phone number and an address on a sheet in her notebook and tore it out.
“There are only three of us. You’ll be the fourth.” Natalie put her journal back into her coat and turned for the stairs. “We’re all in town because of the increase in activity.”
“What type of activity?” Laney’s thoughts turned to Jonas’ attack in the subway.
“Let’s just say being a Weaver isn’t exactly safe.” Natalie stood on her tiptoes to see more of the floor above them.
“Are you sure —?” Laney halted.
Others were milling around now. Natalie lowered herself from her tiptoes and turned back, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Laney took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “Are you sure the others won’t mind? If I . . . if I come?”
“Like I said, they sent me. We need to stick together because who else understands what it’s like to be a Weaver?” She started up the stairs again.
“What’s a Weaver?” Laney called out stopping Natalie halfway up to the next stack.
“Come to the meeting and find out.” Then she disappeared to the floor above.
The paper lay in front of Laney with the date, time, and location of the next Recluse meeting. She put it in her bag, wondering if and how she would attend, but knowing deep down that she needed to go. Richard had some answers, but Laney wanted more than he gave her or wanted to provide.
Her stomach growled and she glanced at her watch. Dinnertime. Packing up her things, she headed up the stairs and across the quad to the dining hall. It was already packed, so Laney picked up a sandwich at the deli and went back to her room.
Walking through the door, Laney checked her cellphone for messages at her desk. She put her one message on speaker while she took her sandwich out of the bag.
Jason’s voice sounded disappointed. “Hey Laney, I’m sorry but I won’t be able to run tonight. Make sure you don’t go alone. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
Laney shrugged. “I’m sorry, but my life can’t be dictated by your schedule.” She said the words aloud, hoping he could hear somehow. Her mind was cluttered, and she needed the fresh air to clear it. Throwing her sandwich bag into the trashcan, she grabbed her running clothes.
She stretched out and then headed for the trail. The evening air held a chill, but she found it invigorating. She needed this, with or without Jason. Her words to William the day before were true; although Jason was confused and misguided in their relationship, Laney knew her own feelings. She also knew that Natalie’s
secret Weaver meeting might hold the answers to William’s and Jonas’ true identities.
Passing the rusty chain keeping the path free from motor vehicles, she began to jog. The muscles in her legs warmed up — they would take her far tonight. While the last minutes of daylight encompassed the path, Laney decided to explore. She jogged a mile or two down a narrow path that broke off to the left at a pond. The path led to an area with large trees that casted elongated shadows on the area below. The ground had been cleared of underbrush that had been replaced by a ropes course.
The course gave Laney a half hour to blow off steam. Climbing up the rope over the wall showed her that she could do anything without Jason. She didn’t need him to run with her. It was a freeing experience. She contemplated climbing the ladder up one of the trees, but stuck to the lower ropes course. As Laney squeezed through the spider’s web, she noticed something white on a tree by the swinging rope. She hopped down from the web and walked over to the tree.
The parchment hung from the bark by a thick nail. The paper was the same type she found in her bag a few weeks before. She scanned the darkening woods for any sign of life. An owl let out a hoot from its winter perch and the low hum of the cars on the freeway in the distance blocked out the silence in the forest. Laney’s hands trembled as she opened the paper, fearing the message inside. The handwriting mirrored the script in the first note:
Bring the journal to me or your friends disappear, one by one.
The tremble in her fingers radiated to her legs. Laney stuffed the note into her pocket with her Recluse invitation. Jogging back up the same path, she quickened her pace, feeling uneasy with her surroundings. It was still a good mile to the pond, and it seemed as if every tree overreaching the path wanted to grab her in its clutches. But still she ran toward them, because she feared the darkness behind her even more.
Then Laney heard it. The snap of a branch and the slight rustle of leaves in the woods about ten yards behind her. Her heart stopped. She wasn’t sure if bears or mountain lions lived in the area. There weren’t any warning signs like she saw on her family vacations in the White Mountains. Rushing down the path, she distinctly heard footfalls in the woods beside her.
“Who’s there?” Laney stopped in her tracks and shivered, crossing her arms in front of her and clutching them to her body. No one responded. She didn’t know if she should continue to freeze or run faster.
After a moment’s hesitation, she chose the latter. Her legs ran at full sprint, and it wasn’t until she reached the pond that she slowed. She shook all over, knowing that whoever was in the woods had followed her all the way back to the pond and was standing several yards away in the darkness. His breathing sounded labored and it became more apparent in the still evening air. In the clearing of the pond, the moon provided her with the light she needed to find a weapon. She picked up a large stone that was easy enough to hold in her fist as she ran. Too scared to confront her stalker, Laney jogged down the path toward the rusty chain.
A hundred yards from the end of the trail, her foot hit a root sticking out of the road and she sprawled forward, crashing to the ground. Pebbles stuck in the palms of her hands and in her knees. She righted herself, swore, and held fast to her rock, hoping she could knock out her attacker.
Turning to face the side of the road, Laney saw a light bobbing in the distance and heard a second set of footsteps. She dared to suck in a large breath and let it out again before listening to the confrontation in the trees. Her stalker stumbled through the woods with the light following after him. Despite the chill in the air, sweat ran down her cheeks. Laney refused to move, her body still shaking violently. She waited for silence before she took off.
The lights of the parking lot welcomed her back and Laney was never so thankful for them. She didn’t slow down until she reached the sidewalk on the quad. Stopping to catch her breath, she listened for any signs of pursuit. The wind howling through the treetops and the rapid beat of her heart against her chest were the only sounds. Instead of going back to her empty dorm room, Laney headed for the student center. She was too rattled to be alone.
Chapter 11
Jason threw his phone on his bed. How could he be so stupid? He pounded on the mattress with his fist. “Screw it!” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Why couldn’t he just get past this? He should have left Jennifer hanging for once, instead of Laney. He didn’t know why he couldn’t say no to his girlfriend. Well, he did know, but it was the kind of stuff that made it difficult to look at himself in the mirror.
When Jennifer called and asked him to come hang out in the student center, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he already had plans with Laney. He couldn’t even lie and tell her he had plans with Shawn. Will was out, so Jason shut off the lights and headed down the stairs.
Jennifer sat in a corner by herself. Very strange. She had bundled herself up in a multicolored sweater instead of wearing one of her usual low-necked shirts. He knew something was up the moment he stepped into the room, but kept to his usual façade, leaning over to peck her lips. She didn’t even look him the eyes, but crossed her arms and turned away. His heart accelerated, hoping for the impossible.
“Aren’t you even going to ask what’s wrong? You’re such an insensitive piece of crap.” She buried her face in her hands and pretended to cry. She never cried for real.
“What’s the matter, baby?” He got down on one knee and massaged her leg. “Did I do something?” He didn’t know what else to ask. As much as Laney was a mystery to Jason, Jennifer had her own games.
She glared up at him, and to his surprise, her cheeks were wet. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on.”
“What’s going on with what?” Based on her little comments since she’d met Laney, he assumed where she was headed, but he wasn’t going to lead her there.
“With Laney frickin’ Holden, stupid!” She wiped her tears on her sleeve and glared at him again. Blotches of mascara ran from her eyes. “My friends see you with her. You should so know that by now. She’s been coming to your games and you went up to her room Friday night.”
“One game!” Jason clenched his hand in a fist. He wanted to punch the wall. The feelings he had for Laney — whatever they were — he never really acted on them. “And I went up to Laney’s room to try to get her to come watch me play. She’s a friend.”
Jennifer pushed Jason’s hand off her knee and swung her legs beneath her. “Well, you can either be friends with her, or you can have a relationship with me. It’s your choice.”
This was it. He’d been too much of a coward to initiate this moment himself. But what would life be like without his safety net? He ran both hands through his hair and let out a breath, but before he could speak, Jennifer started again.
“If it takes you this long, I think you’ve already made your choice. I’ll see you around.” Jennifer stood up and marched out of the room.
Jason was very aware of the many eyes that watched their conversation. He knew if he stayed, he wouldn’t be alone — some girl would keep him company — and he wasn’t sure he was ready to be alone.
Laney’s hands shook, and it took her several tries to get her key into the hole of her mailbox. Down the hall she heard the distinct sounds of the recreation room, a place she’d never been and didn’t really care to go. Finding her mailbox empty again, she sighed and walked toward the noise, dreading the isolation more than the interaction.
Three large glass windows lined the wall between the rec room and the hallway. Laney spent some time watching the students inside. A big-screen television and a pool table filled the small space. A brown leather sectional sat in front of the television.
Laney’s stomach lurched. Jason leaned forward on the sectional as he arranged a tower of playing cards, a girl on either side. She didn’t recognize either one. A blonde girl was helping him build and the other was reclining and watching the big screen. The girl holding the cards wore Jason’s blue lacrosse jacket and lea
ned across his legs every time she placed a card. With each placement, she lingered a little longer. Where was Jennifer? Did he ditch Laney for this? She dug her fingernails into her palms. It took everything within her not to burst into the room and knock down his damn tower.
As Laney was about to leave, another lacrosse player came over and knocked over the tower for her. Jason jumped up, hurdled over the coffee table and chased his friend around the room. When they ran in Laney’s direction, she ducked to the side, hoping he wouldn’t see her. No such luck. Jason flew around the corner and they found themselves face-to-face.
He instantly flushed red. “Laney!”
She read the guilt all over his face and felt the heat surge through her body. “Hi, Jason.” Laney’s legs felt weak. Part of her reaction was the release of her terror from the woods, but part of it was the anger she felt for being ditched again by her so-called friend.
“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You’re trembling.” He reached out and touched her arm, which was shaking out of control. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Laney’s mouth couldn’t even form the words to tell him where she really wanted him to go at that moment. She took a deep breath and counted down from ten in her head to try and settle her body.
Jason went back through the glass door and returned with a blanket. He wrapped it around her. “Come with me.”
He guided her like a china doll, away from the recreation room and his friends and through the dark hallways. Her mind screamed at her to do a one-eighty, but her legs followed Jason. The fact that she dropped all dignity around him made her cringe, but what option did she have? She didn’t want to walk through the dark to her dorm room alone.
When they were out of sight of the others, Jason slipped his arm around her shoulder. The sense of security she felt with his arm around her only made her anger burn hotter.
The Weaver Page 9
