House of Shadows

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  “Yeah. Torture. It’ll pay off though,” he said, smiling through the discomfort.

  “You are so tough,” I declared. “And you have such a good attitude.”

  We reached the elevator, and pushed the ground floor button. The doors swished shut, and the elevator started on its way. We were the only passengers.

  “Believe me,” Miles replied. “This is nothing compared to being shot.”

  Miles was worn out after PT, so we picked out a movie and spent the afternoon relaxing.

  “I love this,” I said, resting my head against his shoulder with a contented sigh, as he held my hand. “This is so much better than when you were semi-transparent.”

  “Isn’t that the truth. I was thankful then to have your friendship, and I still am, more than ever. This though,” Miles squeezed my hand, “I never thought we’d have, and I’ll never take it for granted.”

  “Me either,” I smiled. Then I sat up. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Actually, yeah, but I’ll get it,” Miles said, and he started to lower the foot rest on the reclining couch.

  “No, don’t!” I protested, as I hopped out of my seat. “Keep your knee up, I know it’s sore after that workout they put you through. I’ll get it.”

  “Okay, if you insist,” Miles said gratefully. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” I smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  I took off down the hall. I’d get drinks, and if I asked the chef, I had a feeling he’d send me back with something to snack on, too.

  “Hi, Chef Antonio,” I said, as I walked into the kitchen.

  “Ah, Miss Riley! It is good to see you. And what brings you to my kitchen this evening?”

  “Oh, Chef—don’t tell me. Those aren’t Hatch green chile, are they?” I asked, my hand on my heart.

  “Indeed yes, is there any other kind?” he smiled.

  “Not as far as I’m concerned! So what are you making?”

  “Green enchiladas, such as you are used to, I imagine,” he said.

  “Oh, you are too awesome!” I said. “I haven’t had good Mexican food—or any kind of Mexican food, actually—since I moved here almost a year ago!”

  “Tonight you shall,” Chef said proudly.

  “Then I won’t pester you for a snack, I don’t want to risk ruining my appetite. I’ll just grab some drinks, and leave you to your magic.”

  I moved to the refrigerator and took out a couple of bottles of water.

  “Chef, would you mind having Jeff serve dinner for Miles and me in the family room? He had a hard physical therapy session today, and would probably appreciate that.”

  “Of course, Miss Riley. I shall be glad to do that.”

  “Thank you, Chef Antonio,” I smiled.

  I exited the kitchen, and headed back through the maze-like corridors toward the family room, almost starved to death by the thought of the dinner he was in the process of preparing.

  I turned at the end of the hall, and stopped abruptly. My eyes widened in shock, as I struggled to make sense of what I saw.

  Disappearing around the next bend in the hallway, was a dark, shadow-like figure.

  My blood chilled, and I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then sped up. Memories of the hooded figure I saw recently filled my thoughts and brought apprehension with it, but if something was in the castle that shouldn’t be… I’d rather face it than live in suspense, wondering when it would show itself again, and worrying that it would hurt Miles or Polly.

  I broke into a run. I skidded around the corner, as the shadow figure reached the next section of the hall. I was right on its heels, and it seemed to know. It moved faster, and when I rounded the next corner, it was gone.

  I looked at the doors lining the hall, and felt apprehension growing to an almost unbearable level. It had to be inside one of those rooms.

  The doors were off-set, and as fast as that shadow disappeared, it most likely hid in the first room to the left. I knew the door at the end of the hall was locked, so it had to be inside one of them.

  I fought with myself as I struggled to make a decision, and finally, steeling my resolve, I took the master key out of my pocket and locked the door leading into the hall, behind me. Whatever was hiding in one of the rooms, it wouldn’t get past me. It was trapped. If it was here, I’d find it. I reached in my pocket again, and pulled out my pepper spray.

  Armed with it, and two water bottles, I took a deep breath and stepped inside the first room.

  The dim light filtering in through the heavy drapes that covered the windows, cast a ghostly aura over the contents of the room. I moved slowly around the perimeter, keeping one eye on the door, in case it tried to escape.

  I really did not want to look under the bed. I might just have a heart attack, if I found that shadow figure hiding there. I might have one, just thinking about finding it under the bed.

  I looked anyway, and all I found was nothing. Not even a dust bunny. Molly and her girls at Queen of Clean were conscientious, to say the least.

  Glancing at the door again, I walked to the closet and put my hand on the knob.

  I thought looking under the bed was bad, but this was completely unbearable.

  Do it like a band aid, I thought, and threw the door open.

  The closet was empty. There was nothing to hide behind. I decided having all of the clothing in the closets of the estate removed, and stored to preserve them, was one of the best decisions I ever made.

  I walked into the attached bathroom, and decided looking in the closet was nothing, compared to looking behind the shower curtain that enclosed the claw-foot tub. My heart must be in good shape, it was still beating.

  Band aid, think band aid!

  I swung one of the water bottles at the curtain and it swung aside, revealing the inside of the tub.

  I raced out of the room and down the hall to the next room, and then the next. I was shaking, my heart pounding uncomfortably. With every bed I looked under and every closet door I opened, every shower curtain I pulled back, I was more certain that I would drop dead, if I did find that shadowy figure.

  I reached the last of the rooms on the hall. It was as empty as the others. The shadow figure was either gone, or it was never there in the first place.

  I walked back to the family room, wondering if lack of sleep during the time Miles was away, was causing me to hallucinate.

  “I was about to send out a search party,” Miles said, setting aside the book he was reading, as I walked in.

  “Sorry,” I said, then quickly re-directed. “You’ll never guess what Chef Antonio is making for dinner.”

  “How many guesses do I get?” asked Miles, as I handed him a water bottle, and collapsed against him on the couch.

  “Oh, how about three,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t notice I was shaking.

  “You’re shaking, are you okay?” he asked with concern.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little cold.”

  “Here, wrap up,” Miles said, handing me the throw that draped the arm of the couch. I wrapped up in it, and he put his arm around me. I felt safe now.

  “Thanks,” I said gratefully. “That’s much better.”

  I probably imagined the whole thing. A few night’s worth of sleep wasn’t enough to make up for all the nights I lost while Miles was away. What I thought I saw, had to be a hallucination. I really needed to quit staying out so late and getting up so early, if I wanted to quit seeing things.

  Miles started the movie playing. Seconds later—at least that’s what it felt like—I felt him brush the side swept bangs away from my face.

  “Anika, do you feel like waking up, or are you too tired to care that dinner’s here?”

  I rubbed my eyes.

  “I don’t know why I fall asleep every time we try to watch a movie.”

  “I’m just guessing here, but it’s probably because you’ve got a lot of sleep to make up for,” Miles said, catching my hand in his, as I feebly t
ried to swat at him for stating the obvious.

  “You’ve got good reflexes,” I mumbled, as I sat up. I ran my hands through my hair, and tried to wake fully.

  “It’s self-preservation, baby,” Miles smiled, and I laughed.

  He lifted the cover from the main course.

  “Oh my goodness,” I said, staring hungrily at the scrumptious plates of food. “Now those, look like real enchiladas.”

  “Yeah, they do look real,” Miles said, with a quizzical look in my direction.

  “I mean, they look like they were made by someone who knows what they’re doing. Which they were, of course, Chef Antonio is amazing. He used Hatch green chile, too. I can’t wait to try these!”

  Without delay, Miles and I dug in to the delicious green enchiladas.

  “This is so good,” I said.

  “It is,” agreed Miles. “We’ll have to add this to the regular menu.”

  I put my hand over my heart when I discovered what was on the last covered platter.

  “Sopapillas! Have you ever tried these?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have,” Miles said.

  “Here, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  I tore the corner off of one, drizzled honey inside the hollow triangle of fried dough, then gave it to him.

  “That is good,” he agreed.

  I sighed contentedly, finishing the last bite of my own sopapilla. “The chef deserves a big hug, a kiss, and a raise, for this meal.”

  “I’ll give the man a raise,” Miles agreed. “But save your hugs and kisses for me.”

  I looked up at him, and promptly melted.

  “Okay,” I said breathlessly. “I can live with that.”

  Miles laughed softly, and kissed me.

  As bad as things were the month and a half I thought I’d never see Miles again, now was making up for it. Our friendship was just as strong, if not stronger, than it was before, and my best friend made an excellent boyfriend. Living at the guest house was great. Still in our separate quarters, but so close. It was awesome to wake up every morning and meet Miles outside, then have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, and every minute in between. I caught up on my lost sleep, and hadn’t seen anything bizarre or unexplainable, since. I was convinced it was all a sleep-deprived hallucination.

  June arrived, and brought my twentieth birthday. We celebrated with my family, we celebrated with Polly, and we celebrated by going on a date. I’ve never been so celebrated in my life!

  Miles practiced driving every day, and by summer’s end, he mastered that skill. I was proud of him, as usual. I’m convinced there’s nothing he couldn’t learn to do quickly, and well.

  A physical therapist came to the castle several times a week all summer, to “torture” Miles. He pushed himself to the limit during every session, and achieved his goal. He no longer wore the knee brace and no longer limped, either.

  Summer was drawing to an end, and it was time to solidify college plans. I lay on my stomach on the floor, with college booklets and course catalogs scattered all around me, as I paused in filling out forms to watch Miles. He sat at the desk of Mission Control, concentrating on his own stack of booklets and forms in a bit more organized way.

  I needed to figure out where to live when college started. I hadn’t thought anything about it since the day Miles returned. I knew from everything he said and did, that he wanted to marry me someday. He talked to Dad about me… if not about that, then what? I didn’t want to rush anything for our families’ sakes, and for ours too. It would be easier to make decisions about my future though, such as whether I ought to have a roommate or not, if I knew his plans for our future. A timeline would be nice!

  I thought for a minute, wondering how to get information without coming right out and asking, hey—when are you going to marry me!

  “So… where are you planning to live, when we go to college?” I asked innocently.

  Miles looked up from the form he was filling out.

  I could tell by the gleam of amusement in his hazel eyes, that he was on to me.

  “I’m planning to live in an apartment,” he said, managing to hold back a smile. “The thought of dorm life doesn’t appeal to me. How about you?”

  “Jenny and I talked about rooming together, before you came back, but we haven’t made any solid plans yet.”

  I gave him a chance to speak, but he didn’t say anything. He just looked amused.

  “I guess I should call her, and do that.”

  Miles smiled, then stood and walked around the desk. I sat up. He reached down, and took my hands. Pulling me to my feet, he led me to the loveseat. I sat down, confused. Miles kept my hands in his, as he sat beside me.

  “Everyone around us believes we’ve only known each other for a couple of months. They can’t possibly know how serious we are, and the foundation we have. So it’s a little sudden to spring a wedding on your family… much as I’d like to.”

  Miles reached in his pocket and took out a small box, as he got down on one knee, in front of me.

  “First things first, though,” he smiled.

  Okay, on one knee and small box in his hand… I sat still, waiting to see what he’d say next. He psyched me out once before, this might not be what it looked like.

  “You have always been and will always be, the only girl in the world for me. I love you with my whole heart, and I want to live every second of the rest of my life with you. So, Anika Riley… will you marry me?”

  My eyes were huge. I was not expecting this! I stared at him, completely speechless.

  “Is that… a yes? Or… a no? Or...” Miles wasn’t worried, there was laughter in his eyes.

  I was too emotional to answer in words. I brushed moisture from my eyes, then smiled, and threw my arms around him.

  He obviously wasn’t prepared for that, because it threw him off balance. We both toppled, and I landed hard on his injured shoulder. I rolled off of him, and sat up in a panic.

  “I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”

  He’d been shot recently—a hundred forty-five years ago, anyway—it was complicated! He asks me to marry him, and the first thing I do is break him, all that physical therapy down the drain—

  “My shoulder is completely healed,” he assured me. “It’s fine. My heart is in your hands though, and I’m not sure it’s safe.”

  “Your heart’s safe with me,” I said in relief. “I’ll take very good care of it.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes! Of course I’ll marry you. As if there was any question!”

  Miles sat up with a smile, and opened the box.

  “Oh, that is gorgeous,” I whispered, admiring the stunning emerald cut stone, as he slipped the ring on my finger.

  “The diamond is a Bannerman family heirloom, one that we found together in the cave. I had a jeweler design the setting for it.”

  “I love it,” I said, looking from the ring to Miles.

  “Good,” he smiled. He leaned forward and kissed me gently.

  “So how long have you been carrying this around?” I asked, looking at the ring again.

  “I spoke with the family jeweler on the phone, the day I came back. You were right there, just sound asleep on me. When I picked up your earrings on our first date the next day, I dropped off the diamond. The ring was ready two weeks later, and I’ve had it ever since.”

  “Wow,” I said. “So when were you planning to propose, since you waited this long?”

  “I wanted to propose the minute you bumped into me, as you tried to escape meeting me—not knowing that it was me—and I realized you still loved me. It took everything I had to wait, but having a good relationship with your family, is important to me. Getting engaged the day we met, which is what they would have thought, would make them doubt either one of us had any sense. It’s still going to seem awfully soon to them, but at least they’ve had a chance to get to know me, and to see that you’re happy, and that I’m good for you.”

/>   “You’re definitely good for me,” I agreed.

  “I was planning to propose tonight at dinner. We’re going out, by the way, it was going to be a surprise. But this opportunity was just too good, and I couldn’t stand to wait another minute,” Miles smiled.

  “You certainly did surprise me,” I smiled back.

  Miles and I are engaged!

  “So when’s the wedding?” I wondered.

  Miles laughed.

  “Let’s figure that out together.”

  “When did you talk to my Dad?”

  “I talked to your Dad the day I met him. I told him I love you, that you’re the most special and beautiful girl in the world. You’re smart, funny, resourceful, and the only one for me. I said I hoped to convince you to marry me someday, and asked for his consent to try. I think your Dad’s been preparing for the day someone would ask, because he was ready with the third degree. I passed his test, and here we are.”

  “Wow,” I said again. I leaned against Miles’ shoulder, and looked at my ring some more. “You’re really smart. The way you phrased that was perfect. If you came right out and asked for his consent to marry me, I don’t think Dad would’ve given it, since he didn’t know yet how amazing you are.”

  “I have my moments,” Miles smiled.

  “You certainly do,” I smiled back, then looked at my ring and sighed contentedly. “I can’t believe it—we’re engaged, actually engaged.”

  “Yes,” Miles said, wrapping his arms around me. “We are.”

  Chapter 4

  We found Polly in the sun room, overlooking the rose garden. Buds of every color were blooming gloriously, and the windows were open to let in the rose scented breeze.

  “Grandma Polly, we have some news for you,” Miles grinned.

  “Oh, and what is that, dear?” Polly turned from watching a hummingbird flit from flower to flower, and smiled at us.

  Miles put an arm around me, and lifted my left hand in his. The sun touched my ring, and the stone was dazzling. It scattered rainbows around the room.

  “Oh—oh, my dears—” Polly’s hands were on her cheeks and there were tears in her eyes, as she moved forward to give us both a hug. “I’m so pleased. So very pleased!”