The Curse of the Golden Touch

by G M Mckay

  “Married,” I said in astonishment and was rewarded by another spiteful glare from Jacob.

  “Don’t sound so uppity about it,” he snapped, “we would have married years ago, when we were just young things in love, but her parents forbid the match and sent her away. We didn’t see each other for years but when we met again, it was just like no time had ever passed. When she finally returned back here to live, after her parent’s death, Ruth hired me on as a groundskeeper. I’m not sure that it fooled anyone but it was the only way we could be together.”

  “So what changed?” I asked. “Why get married now?”

  “Age came with wisdom, I suppose. We both figured that we deserved to enjoy the last few years we had to spend here on earth. And that’s a lesson to you young folk … don’t fritter away your best days like we did. When you figure out what you want out of life, you don’t let anything stand in your way.”

  My eyes prickled at the note of longing in his voice and I involuntarily glanced toward Gil who was still hovering protectively at my side.

  “We were going to travel the world together, see all the sights we missed out on the first time,” Jacob said, his voice rough with emotion.

  “That’s why Ruthie was so obsessed with the legend of the Dark Lady,” Belinda said softly. “Evangeline and Phillippe were star-crossed lovers, too. Her own grandfather, Alocious, was a miserly man who had a cruel streak, just like Evangeline’s father. Those books he wrote we’re not nearly as hateful as the person he was in real life, and he passed many of those traits down to his son, Ruth’s father.”

  “So let me get this straight,” Gil said, getting back to the point. “Ruth had begun to worry about her health and decided that she and Jacob would get married. Then she gets sicker and starts becoming paranoid that she’s being watched and fires almost everyone who works on the estate. Then a few nights before the wedding, she writes a bunch of wills and has various combinations of everyone here witness them. And then that night, she falls into the strange state and never regains her mind again.”

  “Well,” Estelle said slowly, “that’s about it, I suppose.”

  “And did you look for the wills?”

  “Of course we did,” Aimee said indignantly, “we’ve searched the whole house from top to bottom.”

  “So either someone took them or she hid them,” Gil said.

  “Well, nobody here would have taken them,” Estelle said. “We think that she’d become so paranoid that she hid them somewhere. The thing is that we owe it to her to find the will, or wills, before anyone else in her family discovers how sick she is. That’s why we wanted to keep you away. Without a will, the estate will be broken up, and the money will just go to her awful brothers and sisters. There’s no way she would have wanted that.”

  Well, that part is the truth, I thought. My own grandmother Rosalie had been a tyrant and from what I remember, the rest of those siblings were no better. Maybe Great Aunt Ruth was actually the nice one of the group. I had very few memories of my grandmother other than generally being afraid of her, but I did remember her sharp tongue and scathing remarks had made my own mother seem like a lamb in comparison.

  “And of course, that’s when we arrived and ruined your plans,” Xan said frostily.

  “Will you stay and help us?” Estelle asked, staring intently at Xan. “You know our secret now. If everyone helps to search the house then we might have a chance of finding the will before it’s too late.”

  “I don’t see why we should,” Xan said, his face flushing. “You lied to us from the beginning and you locked up a defenseless old woman. I think we need to get Ruth to the hospital today and then leave you all for the police to deal with.”

  “We could help you before we leave on two conditions,” Gil interrupted, ignoring the outraged glare Xan sent him. “You get the doctor back here today to check on Ruth and make sure she doesn’t need to be in a hospital tonight.”

  “But we’ve already told you—” Estelle began.

  “And secondly, you explain why Jilly has a lump on her head the size of an orange. Because there’s no way she ever fell off that horse; she was attacked.”

  There was dead silence, and if the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed at the guilty expressions on everyone’s faces.

  “Er, well, about that,” Estelle said, blushing crimson.

  “You see, it was really more of an accident than an attack,” Belinda said, twisting her apron between both hands. “Estelle took off galloping on that fool horse of hers and when she didn’t return, we grew frightened. Ruthie took a sudden turn for the worse, nearly at the moment when Estelle left the house. She started tossing and turning in her bed and muttering all sorts of things about the Lady and Estelle. We really didn’t know what to do.”

  “And then you come barging up to the house, banging on the door and making all that racket,” Jacob growled, lowering his eyebrows at me menacingly. “How were we supposed to know what was happening? All I could think of was my promise to my sweet Ruthie that I wouldn’t let her meddling relatives barge their way into our lives. And, well, I might have acted a little hastily; I’ll confess that much, and I might have hit you a little harder than I’d intended. I meant to just give you a light tap, see, to just put you gently to sleep so we could ship you back where you came from. But, I suppose I put a little too much strength behind it. I had no idea I still had it in me.”

  He faltered to a silence then glanced at me, wiping his hand nervously across his brow. “And, well, I guess I’m sorry. You don’t seem like a bad sort after all.”

  “You could have killed her,” Gil said tightly, “and I swear that if any of you so much as touch a single hair on Jilly’s head again that you will regret the moment you were ever born. Is that understood?”

  They all nodded solemnly and I felt Gil’s grip tighten a little on my shoulder. “Good, now who is going to call this doctor in to see Ruthie?”

  Chapter 14

  The rest of that tense and awkward day passed, although I don’t think anyone got through it very comfortably. The doctor had been called and was scheduled to come that evening so we somehow had to go about our business like nothing had happened after our drama of the morning.

  Xan and Gil came with me to see Great Aunt Ruth, who looked exactly the same as when I’d left her earlier. She didn’t say anything this time, though, just flicked her eyes open and gave Xan a little smile before falling back asleep.

  Gil, Xan, and I went down to the barn with Estelle limping behind us to work with the horses, but despite Estelle’s anxious attempts to make small-talk, that easy camaraderie from the last few days had disappeared.

  Xan was uncharacteristically silent and he kept sending Estelle angry, lingering glances that made her blush and look away. She’d tried to corner him in the feed room to apologize for lying, but he’d just brushed her away and went on with his work.

  He must have really fallen for her if his feelings are that hurt, I thought, poor Xan.

  We did our chores mainly in silence, turning the non-working horses out one by one and tidying their stalls while Estelle sat alone in the tack room cleaning the saddles and bridles.

  Gil hovered protectively near me while we worked, but my morning had been so unsettling that I didn’t mind it nearly so much as I normally would. I got Bally brushed and tacked up in record time, and then handed him over to Gil to ride.

  Xan was already onboard Rigel when we came in and the big horse seemed to be in a perfectly good mood, trotting happily around the far end of the ring.

  Muted sunlight drifted in through the windows overhead, casting flickering shadows across the arena.

  Something caught my eye and I jerked my head up, looking past where Xan and Rigel were training.

  For a second, I could have sworn that I saw that same tall, thin man who’d been lurking in the woods earlier. He stood in the corner, his gaze narrowed directly at me. But of course, it was just a trick of th
e light; I blinked and there was nothing there at all.

  Gil swung up on Bally and was looking down adjusting his feet in the stirrups when the explosion happened.

  With an enraged squeal, Rigel spooked sideways suddenly in the far corner, twisting in the air. Then he took off in a series of violent bucks that must have rattled every bone in Xan’s body. He leapt and plunged like a fish caught on a hook, desperately shaking his head from side to side trying to get away. It was a rodeo-worthy performance that would have launched a less-determined rider into the wall.

  Xan hung on grimly, but it was like trying to ride on top of a twisting and turning roller coaster that also wanted to kill you.

  Gil had pulled an astonished-looking Bally off to one corner of the ring to keep him out of harm’s way and was watching Xan with a serious expression on his face. I could see him debating if he needed to step in and help somehow when suddenly Rigel stopped his shenanigans as abruptly as he’d started. His flattened ears pricked forward and he began to trot obediently around the ring like a well-trained school pony.

  “Good grief,” Xan said shakily, drawing Rigel to a halt, “what on earth was that?”

  “Xan, are you okay?” I asked. “I can’t believe you stayed on through all that. Well done.”

  “I think I need a stiff drink after that performance. I don’t know what set him off, though.”

  “There was that weird shadow in the corner,” I said, frowning in that direction. “It must have frightened him.”

  “He didn’t look scared exactly.” Gil started circling Bally around the ring on a loose rein to stretch out his muscles. “He seemed angry.”

  “Well, he knows who his master is now,” Xan said, shooting a glance over to where Estelle had appeared at the edge of the ring, probably drawn by all the noise. Her face was white and she gripped the top rail with both hands. “He won’t pull another stunt like that again.”

  Gil and I exchanged a look but said nothing. Rigel’s unnatural transformation from bucking bronco to docile pony wasn’t something I’d ever seen before. He’d acted like he was possessed earlier. I knew one thing; I wouldn’t trust or let my guard down around that horse for a single second. There was definitely something not quite right about him.

  As soon as Gil and Bally were trotting happily around the ring, I left them to work on their own and went to visit my little friend Damascus, who I’d kept inside so I could brush him.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said, slipping into his stall and running a hand down his soft, fuzzy shoulder. All the horses back at Greystone had their hair clipped short since Mother liked even the non-working broodmares to look show-ready at every moment. So I didn’t often get to see horses in their natural winter coats. Damascus was extra fuzzy, too, like a little teddy bear and I couldn’t resist hugging his plush neck.

  He ate his hay quietly while I fussed over him, currying his coat until it shone, and carefully brushing out his wispy mane and tail. I picked out his feet and then stood back to admire him. He was growing on me fast; I hadn’t liked a horse this much since I’d first laid eyes on Bally. I rarely let myself get attached to any of the sale horses back at Greystone, because they were all liable to be sold out from under me just as soon as they started showing potential in the show ring.

  Mother didn’t have a sentimental bone in her body and wouldn’t turn down any buyer as long as their wallet was big enough. I never had any say in the matter, either. It would be nice, just for once, to be able to make sure that my own projects were placed in the homes that were actually the best for them rather than just with any random stranger who had money.

  That’s what Gil and I always talked about, I thought idly, reaching over to scratch Damascus on the withers. We always said that we had our own barn together we’d only pick the kindest, most caring buyers for our horses, people who could give the animals a home for life, not just for a few years.

  I stopped short and frowned. Where had that thought come from? Gil had said something like this the other day but I hadn’t remembered any conversations like that from our childhood. So why was I remembering it now?

  I rubbed a hand across my head where a sudden headache had begun to throb without warning, pounding away somewhere behind my left temple. The pulsing was so strong that that’s all I could hear. Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the stone wall and slid down until I was sitting in the deep straw with my head in my hands.

  There wasn’t any welcoming darkness behind my eyelids, though; instead, a series of bright pictures flashed relentlessly in front of my eyes. Gil and I as children walking hand in hand through a summer pasture full of grazing broodmares, us running through the house exploring while the rain beat down on the windows. The two of us sitting at the kitchen table with a sea of open notebooks spread out around us while Nanny looked on encouragingly. Me, running through the rainy darkness with those same notebooks clasped in my arms, alone and desperately afraid.

  My eyes shot open and I inhaled a deep, ragged breath, my heart hammering hard in my chest.

  I didn’t know how long I sat there, but eventually I was aware of the lumpy stone wall poking into my back and then, at the same moment, I felt warm breath and soft, velvety whiskers brushing across my cheek.

  Damascus stood with his nose next to my forehead his eyes half-closed as if he were nearly asleep. I went to push myself upright to pet him but as I moved, a chunk of the stone wall at my back shifted and a bit of the crumbling rock gave way.

  Damascus opened his eyes with a startled grunt at the noise and I twisted sideways, kneeling in the straw to repair the damage I’d done.

  “This place is falling apart, isn’t it, buddy?” I told the little colt as I pushed the stone back into place and clambered to my feet. “Wouldn’t you like to come live in the lap of luxury with me and Bally instead?”

  Damascus snorted and bobbed his head up and down a few times as if he’d understood. I laughed, scratching him behind the ear.

  There was the sound of clopping hooves behind us and Gil appeared, leading a tired and happy Bally behind him.

  “I wondered where you were,” Gil said, frowning in my direction.

  “I’m fine, I was just playing with Damascus. How was Bally?”

  “Perfect, as always. I’ll clean him up and turn him out. Estelle said he can go out with some of the quieter broodmares.”

  “Sure, actually, I’ll put Damascus out with him too and see how they get along.”

  Gil shot me a knowing look but said nothing as he led Bally to the wash stall to give him a bath.

  The crisp fall air put a bounce in the horse’s steps and as soon as we let them go, both Bally and Damascus took off cavorting across the pasture together. The older broodmares were only concerned with eating as much of the last grass of the season as possible so they barely even looked up at the two boys who’d invaded their field.

  After that, I helped Gil brush and tack up the rest of the horses he planned to ride.

  Xan stayed quiet and withdrawn after his ride on Rigel. He moved slowly while he washed and put away the big horse and, by the time he’d come back from turning Rigel out on pasture, he’d developed a noticeable limp on one side.

  “Oh, you’re hurt,” Estelle said worriedly when she came out of the tack room. “Please don’t worry about riding any more horses; there won’t be any point to keeping them fit if Ruth doesn’t wake up.”

  Xan hesitated when Estelle laid an imploring hand on his arm and I could see his resolve to be angry with her wavering.

  “Let me get you lunch and an aspirin and you can relax for a while by the fire.”

  Finally, he gave in.

  So much for sticking together, I thought as the two of them disappeared toward the house, leaving Gil and I behind. Still, it gave me a chance to fill Gil in on some of the things I`d missed telling him early that morning; Aimee`s mysterious houseguest and the tiny scroll inside the sculpture.

  “What do you think ‘The Lady rides nine�
� thing really means?” I said, running a soft brush across the shoulder of an oversized bay mare named Agnes. She was sensitive, and her skin twitched in irritation no matter how carefully I brushed her.

  Gil shrugged. “It could mean nine o’clock, or nine horses or even the number of a train or bus or something.”

  “Oh, right, I didn’t think of buses or trains. It could be the number of steps between one thing or another, like from the stained-glass window to the hall or something else important.”

  “If we were in one of those old mystery movies we used to like to watch, then it would have something to do with when the light from the full moon shining through the window hits a certain spot on the floor.”

  “Or maybe at nine o’clock in the morning the light hits a certain spot.”

  “I suppose we could check that out tomorrow morning, if we’re still around. It wouldn’t hurt to just look.”

  Despite the seriousness of Great Aunt Ruth’s condition I felt a flicker of excitement ripple through me. I hadn’t been this interested in anything but horses for ages.

  “There’s that big grandfather clock in the hallway, too,” Gil added thoughtfully, “we could check in there. Maybe it does mean nine o’clock.”

  Now I just wanted to finish the rest of the horses as quickly as possible so we could go explore the rest of the house.

  Gil gave each of the horses a workout while I busied myself tacking them up and cooling them down in turn so he could just focus on riding. Working like a team we managed to have them all done in under two hours.

  “Come on,” I said excitedly, “let’s go have lunch and then we can explore.”

  But all our plans of going on a great hunt once we were back inside fell by the wayside when I opened the front door and came face to face with Dr. Crane. Not just Aunt Ruth’s benign physician with an unfortunate name, but the actual, creepiest of creepy, child psychologist from my childhood.