by Everly Frost
I said, “You’re right. I don’t belong here. Not anymore.”
I sucked in air, drawing the other me back with all my strength, focusing—glaring—at the ground speckled with red and orange scraps, trying to remember the feel of Nathan’s hand on mine, as though the memory itself would make her flee.
I said, “I don’t know why I thought we were friends. You’re a ranch hand and I’m your boss’s daughter.”
Then I ran as fast as I could, wishing I could run away from myself, but no matter how fast my legs moved, she came with me, part of every thought and every breath.
Chapter 14
I EYED THE strangers, all of them lounging around the town café, sipping lattes and chatting. Their parents were off to the side, keeping out of the way, but I knew what they were thinking. Which one of them would land the rich man’s daughter?
Edith sat among the older ladies and I remembered her warning: nobody could be trusted now that everyone knew about Dad’s money. After what Mr. Buckland had said to Kenneth, I knew it was true.
Next to me, Rebecca continued her intense conversation with a girl whose hair flamed red. Apparently she had an older brother who was on his way, but got delayed by some business deal he was making.
I wondered if I could disappear out the door and down the street. The town hall was further up the road in the direction we’d travelled, positioned at the top of the rise with a view of the gully behind it, and the café where we sat was halfway down. Further along were the general store and the train station. If I was very quiet about it, I could slip out and see Meggy, the woman who ran the post office inside the station. I was sure she’d hide me for a couple of hours, maybe even give me something useful to do.
“Caroline, may I join you?”
My stomach sank as I looked up. I put on a pleasant face. “Mr. Buckland. Nice to see you again.”
“Please,” he said. “Call me Kenneth.”
He pulled up a chair and looked around as though he expected someone to serve him immediately. To my surprise, the café owner’s wife bustled over to take his order and she didn’t even look harassed about it. It dawned on me that the strangers may have brought their uppity customs with them, but they’d also brought a whole lot of money.
Kenneth Buckland ignored her, but she caught my eye. “More herbal tea, Caroline?”
I gave her a smile as I shook my head. “Thanks, Nancy, but I can pour my own.”
“Okay, then.” She disappeared past her customers.
I picked up the teapot and took my time pouring a cup of the herbal concoction. But my unhelpful sleeve slid up my arm as I tipped the teapot, exposing my wrist. When I glanced at Kenneth, he was fixated on that stretch of skin. He reached for the pot, his hand closing over mine and the handle. His other hand took hold of my bare wrist. “Allow me, Miss Caroline.”
I let go of the pot, but he didn’t let go of my wrist as he poured. Instead, his forefinger and thumb closed around it, gently pressing. The tea sloshed into my cup as my pulse increased for all the wrong reasons. It felt nothing like when Nathan touched me. All I wanted in that moment was for Kenneth to let go, but as I tugged, his grip tightened.
A shadow cast over me. I’d never been so happy to see Edith in all my life. She gave Kenneth an unpleasant smile and his hand slid away from me.
Edith tapped her watch. “Alice wants us home in time for dinner.”
“Oh, okay.” I turned from Kenneth to interrupt Rebecca’s conversation.
She surfaced with a bright look. “Time to go already?” She gathered her pink, satin bag to her chest—the one Alice had given her—still chatting to the red-haired girl as Edith hurried us to our feet. Rebecca gave her new friend a final wave as Edith ushered us out of the door. I didn’t look back.
On cue, Jack pulled the car up to the curb outside. I caught his eye as I disappeared inside the back, wishing I could ride up front with him. I imagined our conversation would revolve around his disgruntlement at having to drive us around and my unhappiness at being reduced to a prize girlfriend.
Rebecca pushed in behind me with a happy sigh. She spent the next half an hour humming to herself, her voice wobbling as we zoomed along the road, until I kicked her in the shin.
“Ouch! What?” She rubbed her knee and laughed at the look on my face. “Caroline, it’s not that bad. Really.”
“Yes, it is. Really. You didn’t have someone pawing all over you.”
She raised her eyebrows, looking shocked. “Did he take your hand? Gosh, Caroline, how forward of him.”
Maybe once I would have mocked her back. Instead I looked past her to the window. I pictured Cloud floating down the road and I wished more than anything that I could ride him across the fields again. I’d take off past the dam and away across the flat land, tip my head back, and fill my view with endless blue sky. “I wish Mom were here right now. Things would be so different.”
I must have spoken the thought aloud, because Edith stiffened on my right.
Rebecca’s hand closed over mine. “I wish for that, too.”
I turned from the window, whispering, “Do you remember her?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Not really, sweetie, you know that. But Edith would.”
Her reply caused an uncomfortable silence.
Next to me, Edith tapped her foot, a look of disgust on her face. “Do you really think I can’t hear you?”
Rebecca pressed her lips together. Then she pursed them, tilting one shoulder up. “Well, do you remember her?”
Edith sighed. “Yes, I remember her. But I’d rather not.”
“Why not?”
“Do you really have to know? Is it so important to you to know what she was like? She’s not alive any more. She’s not a part of anything any more. She doesn’t matter now.”
“Why are you so angry with her?”
I’d never heard such a demand in Rebecca’s voice before. I glanced at her in alarm, imagining her and Edith coming to blows in the car. I sat between so that really didn’t appeal to me. At least we were outside of town then so nobody would see us.
I almost laughed. It was a shame Kenneth Buckland wasn’t there. He might change his mind about me if he saw my sisters shrieking at each other.
Rebecca glared. “Are you angry because she died? Because she left you to take care of us? Is that why?”
“No. I’m not angry because she died. I’m grateful that she died. Why aren’t you?”
Rebecca blinked. “What kind of question is that?”
Edith turned away. “You were—how old? seven?—when she died? Surely you remember what it was like in that last year of her life.”
Rebecca shook her head. “No. I don’t… I remember her never coming out of her room. I remember never seeing her.”
“Then you’re lucky.”
“Why?”
Edith lurched forward into the light, her chest heaving. “Because she was dangerous, that’s why!”
She exhaled, as though she’d kept a secret inside for so long that releasing it left a space inside her. A space that she filled with an enraged breath.
“What do you mean?” Rebecca clenched her hands together.
But I interrupted her. “Is that why we came out here? Is that why we left the city?”
Edith narrowed her dark eyes at me. “It started after Samuel was born. She changed. She started telling stories. Stories about shadows in the house. She’d creep into our rooms with a knife in her hands while we were sleeping. She said she was protecting us from the shadows. The doctors said she needed rest. That she needed to go somewhere peaceful, quiet. So we came out into the wilderness, as though that would make it all better.”
“But it didn’t,” I whispered.
Edith snorted. “Dad couldn’t deal with her, so he left her to me.” Her face turned even darker. “Some nights I was up with her all night trying to calm her down, stop her hurting someone. She kept raving about someone trying to kill her. A shadow, of all t
hings, trying to kill her. She’d hurt herself, break things, break her own fingers. And tell us that the shadow girl did it to her. None of the medication made any difference. She wouldn’t stop.”
She folded her arms and spat out the words. “I was glad when she died.”
Rebecca stared out of the window, her hand over her mouth. “I don’t remember any of that.” She touched her forehead, frowning suddenly. “No, wait… I remember a china doll. Did she have a doll?”
Edith sank back into the shadows again.
Rebecca continued. “It’s so hazy, but I remember seeing her sitting on the floor in her room. Or maybe she was just bending down, I can’t quite remember it, but she picked up a china doll. It had a pink dress. And she held it.” Rebecca mimicked pressing something to her chest. “I wish I remembered more.”
“Like I said. Be glad you don’t.”
I stared at Edith, trying to gather my thoughts. Mom had been terrified of a shadow and it had driven her to do things… I pressed my hand to my forehead, remembering a glint of steel, the dark shadow chasing me alongside the wild dog, whispering to me in my room from Mom’s rocking chair…
I was afraid of a shadow too.
But maybe Edith was making it all up. Part of me didn’t want to believe her. I’d always known she was angry with our mother. I had been too. But I was angry with our mother for leaving me, for never being present, never acknowledging me while she was alive. Edith could be lying just to hurt Rebecca and I, out of spite.
Our mother in her strange, blue room. A face full of fear and a scream.
I should have been cold, shivering. But instead, sadness welled up inside me. Someone sobbed quietly and I glanced at my sisters, surprised to realize it was the other me, washing me down from the inside with soft weeping.
Edith turned her head as we passed the white gate at the outskirts of the ranch and avoided looking at me for the rest of the trip. I didn’t see her anyway. All I saw was a shadow with a knife.
Rebecca spent the rest of the week traveling to and from the house, sometimes with Aunt Alice, sometimes with Edith, all the time visiting and receiving guests. I went with her sometimes, but it seemed like I only had to go when Kenneth Buckland was there. After the third visit, I ran out of conversation and tried to mingle with Rebecca’s new friends. At least it kept my mind off Edith’s revelations about our mother.
On the last journey home, on the day before the dance, we passed Nathan taking one of the mares out. I watched him ride past, wishing I could swap places with him.
He didn’t even look at us and I wanted to believe that was for the best.
Chapter 15
I HUDDLED INSIDE the SUV on the way to the dance, cold inside and out, while Rebecca draped her jeweled arm out of the window until Aunt Alice scolded her.
“If I didn’t know you better, I would call you “Caroline.” I don’t have to remind you that this dance is important. You don’t need messy hair before we arrive. Put that window up.”
“The creek’s risen.” Rebecca pointed out the window, patting her head as she settled back into her seat.
Timothy shifted in between Rebecca and I, tugging at his collar and jiggling a leg. “Not surprising with all this rain.”
Alice and Dad sat in the front, sparkling and austere in turns. Edith was at home with Samuel. They’d watched us leave. Sunset was still several hours away, but since Dad was hosting the dance, we had to arrive early to welcome everyone.
Black leather seats pooled under me and pins dug into my scalp. Victoria had outdone herself with my hair, all piled up on my head with the odd curl strategically resting on my exposed neck. I snuggled into my coat, wishing I could hide in it, wishing it would chase away the icy lake inside me. I tugged on my gloves as Timothy continued to grumble about his collar, and I pictured Nathan and Jack, slick and lean in suits, driving the truck behind us.
It was a longer trip in the car than it had ever felt like on horseback. I breathed a sigh of relief when we could all get out and stretch our legs.
Timothy bumped out of the SUV and clapped me on the back. “Well, little sister, let the games begin.”
He caught my expression and said, “No, don’t envy me. My turn will come once your contract is signed. They’ll be parading young ladies before me ad nauseam.” His amusement faded. “Not that I’d be wanting to date any of those girls.”
He smiled again, a real smile this time. “You look beautiful, little sister. That Buckland idiot will be lucky to have you.” He cleared his throat, threw his head back, and strode into the town hall.
I glanced down the road before I went in, scanning the main street and the scattering of shops, all the way to the train station, picturing the train that would take all these people away again.
Inside, the hall was decorated with flowers, candles, and lanterns. Waiters served champagne and a string quartet played at one end. Before long, the place was full of people. Some I recognized, some I didn’t. Jewelry blinded me as the light struck it, dresses brushed mine as they glided past, and perfume clung to me. Couples whirled around the floor to ballroom dances that I would never master.
Watching them made my head spin. I thought about the cold me and considered drawing her out, letting her be the one to parade in front of everyone, to mingle and captivate our visitors. Perhaps she would freeze them all with her icy heart and I could simply go home.
Rebecca had attached herself to a man with striking red hair and Aunt Alice smiled at them. I tried to remember his name—I should have, since we’d met him a few times—as I took myself off to sit by the window and watch it all unfold.
“Excuse me, Caroline, may I join you?”
It was Kenneth Buckland. He gestured at the seat next to me.
“Yes, if you want to.”
“I thought you looked lonely.”
He spoke with a loose smile. I caught the scent of wine. He toppled into the seat and lounged there, turning his face up to mine.
He said, “You know, that scar on your face isn’t nearly so bad in candlelight. I could learn to ignore it, especially when it matters.”
I crunched my teeth together, biting down on a response. Before I knew it, he ran a finger over my face, and I jerked away.
He laughed, rubbing his fingers together. “Your skin is like ice. Well, don’t worry. I know you girls are so occupied with how you look. You really are quite pretty.”
He straightened as his father came into view, but the older man was deep in conversation and didn’t even glance in our direction.
I took my chance. “Excuse me, please. My sister wants me.”
He craned his neck with a frown, but before he could call my bluff, I raced away, driving myself into the most densely populated part of the room. I weaved, circled, then grabbed a glass of water and downed it.
As quickly as I could, I slipped outside, relishing the slap of cold air that erased the feel of Kenneth Buckland’s sticky finger.
Behind the hall was an old shed where all the trucks and utilities had been parked. A group of drivers lingered near the entrance, clutching cups of steaming coffee to stay warm. I hadn’t brought my coat out with me but I didn’t think it mattered—nothing could be colder than her.
Goose bumps rose under my dress as I headed out across the garden and down past the back of the buildings. I stopped at a covered arch overlooking the valley and the hills in the distance.
I counted all the stars in the dark blue of night. Finally, I took a deep breath and exhaled the last of the scent of sour wine.
Then I heard soft footfalls and turned to find Nathan watching me, his arms crossed.
He said, “You shouldn’t be out here. Are you trying to run away again?”
He was mocking me and I tipped my chin up. “I wanted some fresh air.”
“Then what are you doing here, downwind from the trash?” He took a step closer, gesturing at the two giant garbage cans at the back of the hall. “There’s no fresh air here.”<
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“Trash doesn’t bother me. So go away.”
“Rich women are supposed to hate trash.” He was suddenly very close to me. “And they should never be seen talking to the help.”
“Well, that’s okay then, because I don’t see any help around. Hindrance? Yes. Help? No.”
I presented Nathan with my back, determined to ignore him, but the starry night blurred in front of my eyes. I couldn’t stop the tears burning the back of my eyes. I hated that he hated me. Somewhere along the line, his opinion had started to matter to me; he’d become an anchor. Now, I tossed in a sea of stars waiting to crash against the rocks.
For a long moment, I sensed nothing and heard nothing. It was as though Nathan had vanished from the spot where he stood, gone forever.
Then, there was a breath of air at my back, the crunch of grass under a boot, and the smell of earth in my head, and I felt as though something had sucked me into a black hole.
His touch on my bare neck would have sent me trembling to the ground, except that a strong arm snaked around my stomach and pulled me tight against a body that was shaking as hard as I was. His heart pounded against my back, even as his hold was gentle. The hand at my waist splayed against the curve between my chest and my hip, while his other hand brushed—ever so lightly—the exposed hollow at my collarbone. His mouth hesitated behind my ear, as my neck curved itself, tilting to his touch.
“I’m sorry.” His breath brushed the wisps of hair at the nape of my neck. “I miss you.”
He pulled me tighter, just for a moment, and then he released me.
Just like that.
I was frantic. I swung around before he could leave, reaching for him. I shook so hard, I could barely control my arms.
“Don’t go.”
I must have managed the words, because he stopped, half turned, long enough for me to catapult into him, coming up hard against a body that was all tight muscle and coiled flesh. I slid upward, all the way to my tiptoes, to meet his startled eyes and reach the lips that I wanted pressed on mine.
