“You’re the new girl at the Raven’s Nest, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Autumn said.
“They run a pretty tight ship up there.”
“Yes, they do.”
“And you want change for the phone?”
“Is that okay?” Autumn said uncertainly.
“Honey, think nothing of it,” the waitress said, fishing four quarters from the tip jar by the cash register. “I know how those two treat their staff. It’s shameful that you need to ask for a few quarters.”
“I’m sorry,” Autumn said.
“I can’t believe they don’t give you any money for such a little thing.”
Autumn nodded, and the gratitude in her face was more than enough to show the waitress how much she appreciated the kindness. She went straight to the phone, put the quarters in the slot, and dialed her mother’s number.
It rang and rang but there was no answer.
Getting a little worried, she tried her aunt’s number. This time it picked up.
“Aunt Shirley? It’s me. It’s Autumn.”
“You’ve got some nerve calling here,” her aunt said.
Autumn was shocked. Her relationship with her aunt was sometimes difficult, but she’d never heard her speak in that tone before.
“Aunt Shirley, what’s the matter?” she stammered.
“As if you don’t know.”
“I don’t,” Autumn said desperately.
“The money. You never sent a penny. You forgot about us the second you got out of town, like I knew you would.”
“I’d never forget about you,” Autumn said. “Aunt Shirley, you’ve got to believe that.”
“Then where’s the money you were supposed to send.”
“They told me they were putting the check in the mail every week.”
“Who told you?”
“My employers. The Hildegards. Didn’t you receive it?”
“We haven’t received one red cent since you left us,” Aunt Shirley said, her voice breaking as she realized Autumn had no idea what had been going on.
“They didn’t send my pay?”
“Didn’t they show you the checks?”
“No, they just said they mailed them.”
“They’ve been lying,” Aunt Shirley spat.
“How can they? How’s mother?”
“How do you think? She couldn’t afford to fill the prescriptions. They’re seeing her at the free clinic but it’s nowhere near as good as where she was before.”
“They kicked her out?”
“You know how that hospital is. As soon as you miss a payment, the only people you can talk to are in the billing department. She couldn’t see her doctor at all.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s at the clinic, but they can’t give her the care she needs there, Autumn.”
“I don’t … I don’t know what to do,” Autumn said.
“You better go talk to your employers and find out what the hell they’re up to, because it looks to me like they’ve been ripping you off.”
Autumn thought she was going to collapse. She couldn’t believe it. All that time, the one thing that had kept her going was the thought that her work at the Raven’s Nest was helping look after her mother. Now it made sense why they didn’t want her coming into town, why they didn’t let her make calls from the hotel, why they’d been trying to keep her almost under lock and key up at the hotel. They were lying to her. They’d never sent a check. They’d never had any intention of doing so.
“I’m going to confront them right now, Aunt Shirley. I won’t quit until they send every penny they promised. Just wait.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. When her aunt’s voice came back she sounded softer, sympathetic.
“Honey.”
“Yes, Aunt Shirley.”
“You better make some plans to come home too.”
“Why?”
“It’s just … your mother … she hasn’t been doing well. There might not be too much more time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just make some plans to come home, sweetie. You should see your mother soon.”
Autumn didn’t need it spelled out for her. Her mother was dying. Her mother was dying and it was partially the Hildegards’ fault. They knew those payments were supposed to be for medical treatment. They knew what the stakes were. And now, her mother’s last weeks might have been spent thinking her only daughter had forgotten all about her.
She slammed down the phone and turned back to the waitress, her lip trembling, her hand shaking, but she refused to cry, at least while anyone was watching.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I owe you.”
Then she ran out of the diner and began hurriedly trudging through the snow back to the hotel. As she half stumbled, half ran through the messy snow bank that lined the highway, she let the tears fall. She couldn’t hold them back.
So many feelings were rushing through her that she didn’t even know how to decipher them. The one thing she was clear on though, the one thing she knew for certain, was that she felt rage, pure rage, for Mr. and Mrs. Hildegard.
By the time she reached the hotel she was breathless. She pushed open the door without slowing down. She stormed through the hall, up the stairs, and straight to the Hildegards’ private quarters. She did nothing to prepare herself for the confrontation that was coming. She didn’t pause to catch her breath, she didn’t take a moment to rehearse what she was going to say, she burst through the door and threw the words at her employers like they were weapons.
“You lied to me,” she cried. “You never sent the money. You never sent any of it. My mother’s been kicked out of her hospital.”
Mrs. Hildegard was taken by surprise. She leaned back on her seat and threw her arms up as if to shield herself from Autumn’s words. Mr. Hildegard was quicker to respond. He leapt to his feet and marched straight toward Autumn.
Autumn didn’t care. She was beyond being able to care.
“You lied to me,” she screamed.
Mr. Hildegard grabbed her by the shoulders but Autumn shook him loose.
“She’s dying,” she cried. “She’s dying.”
By now, Mrs. Hildegard was up too and together with her husband, she clamped her arms around Autumn and restrained her.
Autumn struggled but the elderly couple was surprisingly strong.
“You said you were going to look after her,” she cried.
Mr. Hildegard, his arms wrapped tightly around Autumn, lifted her from the ground and yanked her further into the apartment.
“Let me go,” Autumn cried but she wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing to her.
She was too distraught. The world was spinning. Her head was spinning. They could have slapped her across the face and she wouldn’t have noticed.
Working together, Mr. and Mrs. Hildegard pulled her toward the strong, oak door that led to their bedroom.
“Let me go,” Autumn cried again, beginning to realize that she was being taken somewhere.
She struggled, determined to walk out of that hotel and never look back, but it was already too late. As she tried to fight them off, they pulled her toward the bedroom and flung her into it. She landed on the bed and leapt back up but they were too fast. The door slammed shut and an instant later, the clanking of a lock sealed her in.
“Let me out,” she cried, throwing herself at the door, but they didn’t answer.
She fell to the ground and began weeping uncontrollably.
How could she have been so stupid?
How could she let this happen to her?
How could she simply take their word for it that they were going to pay her mother’s medical bills?
She should have gotten the money and sent it to the hospital herself.
Mrs. Hildegard’s voice grated at her through the door.
“We’ll let you out when you’ve had a chance to calm
down. There’s something you need to realize, you dumb bitch. You’re our girl now, not hers, and you’ll do as we command or you’ll live out your days locked upstairs like Betsy did.”
CHAPTER 19
AUTUMN
Autumn had only one thing on her mind as she plotted her escape, getting home to see her mother. The way Aunt Shirley had spoken, it sounded like there might not be much time at all.
She flung herself at the door a hundred times but there was no way it was going to budge. It was strong and solid and the lock was bolted securely. She threw herself against it until her side hurt but that was more to let out her own frustration than through any belief the door might actually break open.
When she was dong crying, she wiped her tears on her sleeves and began to think. She examined the window. The window would open normally, the problem was that it was a good thirty feet above the gravel driveway outside. It was obvious why the Hildegards weren’t scared of her escaping through it. A fall from that height would kill her.
Nevertheless, she opened the window and peered outside. When the cold air came in, she was grateful she was still wearing her warm coat and boots.
There was a drainpipe that ran down the wall of the hotel and from the window, she could reach it if she climbed out. She’d have to be careful, stretching out from the window sill to the drain, two feet away, and it didn’t look like it would afford her a very good grip. It was probably a sure way to kill herself, or at least cause serious injury, but she was desperate.
She would far rather die trying to climb out of that window than live, locked in that room like a prisoner, while the Hildegards figured out what they could do to make her their permanent prisoner.
She shuddered at that thought. There was something very weird going on with them and the longer she stayed at the hotel, the more she realized it. Mrs. Hildegard spied on every man that checked in like a sex crazed pervert. Mr. Hildegard had made it clear he had intentions of his own in that department, and it was only a matter of time before he made a move on Autumn. And what had Mrs. Hildegard meant when she said they’d lock her upstairs like they had done with Betsy? Had their daughter been some sort of prisoner? Did they think they could replace her by keeping Autumn there?
Autumn shook her head.
It wasn’t happening, not while she still had options open to her, even desperate options like climbing out of that treacherous window.
Apart from the drainpipe, her only other option was to somehow make it to the tall willow tree that grew outside the window. It was a few feet away, and she’d have to let go of the walls of the building completely, but the branch nearest the window looked like it could support her weight. If she leapt out and managed to grab hold of it, she’d be able to climb down the tree to freedom.
The drainpipe or the tree? Autumn looked at both options with an acute sense of unease. She’d never been overly comfortable with heights. As a child she had to quit the diving team when they started putting her on higher and higher boards. Looking down from those heights made her stomach turn.
She climbed up onto the window sill and out to the ledge. A strong gust of wind blew at her as if trying to knock her off the ledge and she clung to the window frame so tightly her fingers hurt. It was starting to get dark outside and the temperature was noticeably cooler than it had been earlier in the day. She shivered as she peered down at the gravel driveway.
Then, without thinking, without bothering to decide whether the tree or the drainpipe was a better bet, she leapt out into the icy air and reached for the willow branch like her life depended on it. She grabbed the branch and managed to hold on. She couldn’t believe it. But just as it stopped shaking, a loud crack told her it wasn’t going to hold. The next instant she was falling, crashing through leaves and branches, breaking everything beneath her, the twigs of wood scratching and scraping her skin like claws.
She hit the ground hard, but not as hard as if there’d been no branches breaking her fall. Her ankle bent painfully and she buckled, hitting the ground with a thud.
She was alive.
But she was hurt.
She tried to stand and pain seared through her ankle. She’d sprained it, maybe even broken it, but she didn’t have time to worry about that. It wouldn’t be long before the Hildegards realized what had happened. It didn’t seem like they’d heard her crashing down through the branches of the tree, but the cold wind from the window would tell them what she’d tried.
She didn’t have much time.
She hobbled down the driveway, half running, half limping, and with every step, pain rushed from her ankle all the way up her leg. It was excruciating, and she longed with each step to give up, but she refused. She didn’t slow down and she didn’t once look over her shoulder to see if the Hildegard’s were after her.
She kept going for what felt like an eternity, and when she reached the highway she began to sob.
Her ankle was already swelling and she didn’t know how much further she could go on it. The darkness was already setting in and the forest had always terrified her after sundown. The wind howled down from the mountains, driving snow against her, and she shivered despite her exertions.
But what really terrified her wasn’t the pain, it wasn’t the darkness of the forest or the coldness of the icy wind, it was the thought that as soon as Mr. Hildegard came down the driveway in his pickup, his headlights would light her up and he’d have her back in his truck. She’d never make it all the way to town before he realized what she’d done. And she had no way of getting back to her mother even if she did make it to town. There were two trains a week back to civilization, and no buses. The traffic on the single highway out of the mountains was so sparse that she could die of exposure before anyone stopped to pick her up, and the highway was all the way on the other side of the town. Even if she made it that far, it would be the first place Mr. Hildegard would come looking, and if Autumn was hoping to hitchhike, she wouldn’t be able to hide every time a pair of headlights came rolling down the road toward her.
So she did the only thing she could think of.
She didn’t turn down the road toward town, she turned up the road, higher into the mountains, where she knew Grady’s cabin was somewhere located.
She limped painfully up the road, higher into the wilderness, every step taking her farther from the safety and warmth of the town, but also further from the despicable Hildegards and their cursed hotel.
As she left the hotel behind, she heard the sound of an engine and saw the headlights of Mr. Hildegard’s truck driving from the hotel to the gate she’d just fled through. He didn’t even pause at the end, but turned down toward the town. Autumn watched until his red taillights disappeared.
She wondered if he’d turn and come up the road if he didn’t spot her on the way to town?
Probably.
She couldn’t have him doubling back and finding her on the way up the mountain. She had to leave the road.
If being on the deserted road, alone in the dark, scared her, leaving the road for the hidden dangers of the forest terrified her.
But then she thought of her mother. She thought of what it would mean if her mother died while she was locked away in her attic room. She’d never escape from up there. It was twice as high as the window she’d just almost died escaping from.
She clenched her fists, thought of her mother, and left the road for the darkness of the forest.
She wasn’t thinking straight. Even in daylight, with the snow falling heavier and heavier and the wind howling down from the mountain peaks, her chances of finding Grady’s cabin were slim enough.
Limping through the forest in the darkness of night, injured and lost, her chance was zero.
But she didn’t have time to figure that out for herself because as soon as she left the road, she felt as if the darkness of the forest swallowed her up. The ominous trees, their branches looking like fingers, reached out for her. The trees blocked out what little light she’d had
from the moon and stars. The wind, which had been bad enough on the road, whistled as it flew through the branches. It sounded more like screaming than wind. Every branch rustled, creating a million sounds to terrify her. It was as if she was surrounded by monsters on every side.
And then, for the first time since arriving in Montana, she heard the howl of a wolf. It sounded close by, and it was met instantly by the howls of other wolves.
Autumn was terrified. She was blind with fear. Despite her injured ankle, she fled in sheer panic. She didn’t know where she was going, she didn’t know what direction led back to the road, she couldn’t even see what was three feet in front of her. But she ran, and with every step she took, she could hear the wolves closing in on her at her back.
And then she fell.
Her head hit a jagged rock.
And she was unconscious.
CHAPTER 20
GRADY
Grady got up and washed in the river before waking the baby and feeding her. He had a beautiful new bathtub in the cabin but it wasn’t hooked up to hot water so he still preferred the stream. After drying off, they both sat on the porch as the early morning sun rose above the trees.
“Beautiful out here, isn’t it, baby?”
Destiny gave him a smile for an answer.
“Now, are you going to be a quiet girl if daddy takes you hunting?”
She smiled again.
Grady was very aware that hunting wasn’t exactly the kind of activity people usually did with babies. In fact, he was pretty sure there was probably a law against it somewhere. But he had no choice. He’d heard howling the night before and he wasn’t about to let a wolf pack move in on the territory he was raising his daughter in. It would be too dangerous. He didn’t want to turn his back on Destiny for a few seconds and then learn that a wolf had taken her.
The wolves in these mountains were shy and he knew it wouldn’t take much to scare them off.
After breakfast he checked the rifle that had been in the back of his car since his arrival in Montana and made sure it was loaded. He also created a sort of sling which he could put Destiny into and which held her close against his chest while leaving both his arms free.
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