“Sorry, my lady,” he said. Or rather it sounded like that since Katie had the windows rolled up and couldn’t hear him all that well.
“Tom!” she hissed. “Damn you, you just scared ten years growth out of me!!!” Katie fumbled with the door handle in her anger, forgetting that she had popped the lock in her frantic state. Growling a curse, she got it open, practically throwing herself out into the grass, the tire iron still clutched like a hatchet. “What the hell are you doing in my truck?”
“Such language,” Tom said and shook a finger at her. “Is that any way for a good lass to greet a visitor?”
“Be glad I didn’t greet you with this over the head,” she sputtered, waving the iron.
“Save that for the Erl-King, my lady,” Tom said. He crawled spryly out of the truck bed. “I’m not your enemy, and anyway, that iron would be quite effective against him.”
“Right, like I can stop everyone in town from having bad dreams with this,” she said.
“Well now, there’s some I think it might help more than others,” he agreed. “Especially if you hit them just right.”
She glowered. “What were you doing in the back of my truck?”
“I hear tell you’ve been seeking me, lass, and so I thought it best I come to you.”
“Who told you I was looking for you?” she insisted.
“You must understand, there is a course of events leading to the answer that cannot be avoided,” he said. “Mistress Maggie Sue, for all her fine cleaning, does not know about the mouse under the counter. ’Twas for sheer gossip that Mistress Mouse told Master Robin, and he in turn twittered the news to Master Raven, who thought it great sport to come tell me.”
The eloquence with which he spoke almost won her. Katie shook her head. “A raven told you,” she said. “Do you often have conversations with this raven?”
“I try not to,” Tom said. “He is such a frightful braggart.”
Katie opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. “I haven’t got time for this nonsense,” she said. “I’ll drive you back to town.”
“A generous offer, my lady, but I think not,” Tom said. “Your barn will suit the likes of me tonight, unless you have objections.”
“That barn’s not safe enough for a mouse, let alone a man,” she said.
“Neither is town for me at night,” he said.
“Why not?”
Tom sighed. “The Erl-King knows that I can help you, and he will stop at nothing to keep me from it.”
She looked at the sincere concern on his face. Under the grime, there glowed a warm spirit, and she had to admit, of all the eccentrics in Mercyville, Tom had always been the least harmful.
“Come on in,” Katie said. “We’ll fix you dinner, and you can sleep in the house.”
“Well, now, that’s an offer of hospitality I cannot refuse, my lady.”
“Katie,” she said.
“Katie MacLeod, dark as loam and sweet as bee pollen, I thank thee,” he said and bowed.
“Oh, cut it out,” she groaned. Grabbing her purse out of the truck, she started for the front door and pulled her keys. Tom followed, casting a glance back over the landscape. She had the door open and was inside just as Sally came down the hall wearing a weary look of disapproval.
“Miss Katie,” the old black woman said as she adjusted her shawl. Then Tom stepped in, and Sally hitched back. “Oh, my, it’s that filthy vagabond.”
“No more than most, dear mistress,” Tom said and doffed an imaginary hat to her.
“Miss Katie, shall I call the sheriff and have this odiferous man removed?”
“No, he’s spending the night,” Katie said and made a face. Outdoors, Tom’s odor was not as noticeable, but inside the warmth of the house, he did carry an offensive air. “Tom, I’ll show you where the bathroom is so you can...clean up. And maybe I can find some of dad’s old things for you to wear while we launder your stuff.”
“I shouldn’t put you to such trouble, lady Katie.” he said.
“I insist,” she said.
“And I’ll not deny a generous lady her due,” Tom said.
“This way,” Katie said and headed for the stairs. In short order, she gathered towels and washcloths for him, and led him to the bathroom in the upper wing. While he ran water, she dug around in some of the boxes she had been meaning to send to the church for their annual charity sale. A flannel shirt, a baggy sweater and a pair of jeans looked likely to fit Tom. Funny, but he was built about like her father had been.
Tom received the items with lauds of praise that almost had Katie laughing. She left him to fend for himself and went back to her own room the change out of work clothes before heading down to help Sally with supper.
The elderly woman moved rather slowly as she opened a jar of green beans canned last fall. Her hand shook as she poured the contents into the pan. Katie hauled ears of corn out of the freezer.
“You don’t look well, Sally,” Katie said. “Maybe you should go see the doctor tomorrow.”
“Oh, I’m all right, Miss Katie,” Sally insisted. “I just had a bit of a fright today, that’s all.”
“A fright?” Katie repeated. For Sally, that could have bad implications. “What kind of fright.”
“Oh, it was silly,” Sally said. “I was out walking a little like the doctor told me to, when I heard someone weeping. Naturally, I worried that it was some lost child up by the creek, but when I went towards the sound, I found a woman kneeling on the bank of the pool by the big oak. She was washing something and crying, and when I went to ask her what was the matter, she...she lifted this dress out of the water that was stained with what looked like blood. And I realized it was my dress. I screamed, and the woman just disappeared. My heart started messing up on me, so I took my pills and...”
“Why don’t you go lie down,” Katie said, and gently touched the old woman’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of supper.”
“But...”
“Go on,” Katie insisted. She passed an arm around Sally’s thin waist, removed the bean jar from her hand and herded her for the door. “I know how to cook.”
“Yes, well, I am feeling a bit weary, Miss Katie,” Sally agreed. “But you call me if you need help, now.”
“I will,” Katie said. She gave Sally a hug and pushed her on towards the hall. The old woman walked down to her room.
Katie turned back to the kitchen, trying to fight a frown of worry. By the sound of it, Sally had seen a Bean-Nighe, a type of banshee that washed the clothes of those about to die. Not a pleasant thought.
“Not if I can help it,” Katie said and set about to finish the preparations of the meal.
In no time, the beans were simmering and the corn was boiling, and she had put the leftover roast into the oven to reheat. She was slicing tomatoes when she heard footsteps at the door.
Tom stood at the entrance to the kitchen. The clothes fit him well enough. He’d cleaned up, shaved the stubble that had garnished his face, and combed his long silvery hair back into a braid. It looked as though it had been red when he was young, but instead of fading, it had turned white. All cleaned up, Tom looked like a decent enough fellow, reminding her of someone who didn’t realize the sixties were long gone. The green eyes cast about the kitchen with a keen interest. In his arms, he held the bundle of his more offensive attire.
“Laundry room is in there,” she said, and pointed to a small door by the back door. “Just toss ’em in the floor and I’ll get to them later.”
“I’m obliged to you,” Tom said and quickly went to the laundry room to rid himself of his bundle. “Smells like a grand feast,” he added upon his return.
“Just a simple meal,” Katie said.
“To a man of my venue, ’twill be a feast.”
“You’re not from around here originally, are you, Tom?” Katie said.
“Ah, no,” Tom said, “But I moved to these parts so long ago, I can’t say when it was.”
“Bor
derlands?” she said. “Scotland.”
“You’ve got a good ear,” he said. “Then you’ve been to Scotland?”
“Once when I was eighteen,” Katie said as she finished the last of the tomato. Tom had sauntered over to the stove, and peering into the pots, nodded his approval. “The whole family went. Dad had some notion about taking us all back to see the place of our ancestors. Supposedly, we’re related to the MacLeods of Dunvegan.”
“Seems to be the popular sport among Americans,” Tom said. “Either proving they’re related to Scottish royalty or Native American princesses.”
Katie snickered. “Right,” she said. “It never ceases to amaze me how many of these Indian princesses there were. Why every tribe must have been nothing but royalty.”
Tom chuckled his agreement. “But you are related to the Dunvegan MacLeods, are ye not?” he said.
“I guess.”
“Where’s the other lady of the house?”
“Sally? I sent her off to rest. She’s got a bad heart, and she had a scare today.”
“Really? What sort of scare?”
Katie went to the cabinets to fetch plates so she could set the table. “She saw a Bean-Nighe.”
“Oh,” Tom said and his face grew solemn. “Was it washing her clothes?”
Katie nodded. “Is the Earl-King causing that?”
“In a way,” Tom said. “Once he got free, it would be easy for others of his ilk to follow.”
“There were goblins in the library basement today,” she said.
“Really?”
“And a book that glowed,” she said. “And a trunk full of stairs, and a magic harp.”
“Oh, ye found it,” he said, sounding delighted.
“Why did you give Bud the key and tell him to give it to Durgan and lie about where it was found?”
“Because, I couldn’t lie to him about it myself,” Tom said. “If he’d asked, I would have told him why he had to give the key to you. And anyway, Master Durgan’s a bit too shortsighted to understand some things.”
“And why did he have to give the key to me.”
“You said you saw the book,” Tom said. “Did ye read it?”
“Some of it. MacKenzie apparently thought himself a prophet. He made predictions.”
“Such was his gift, and his curse,” Tom said. “Did you read the part about the woman of two bloods?”
“Yes. The woman of two bloods will set the Erl-King free. And as near as I can figure after what’s happened, I can only assume he meant me. Half Cherokee and half Scot.”
“Did you read all of it?” Tom said.
“No.”
“Well, then, you only know half of what you should, lass,” Tom said. He found a spoon and helped himself to a bit of green beans, blowing on them. “So you’ll have to go back and read the rest, and then you’ll know what must be.” He popped the beans in his mouth and chewed.
“What must be?” she said. “I don’t even half way know what’s going on! All I can be sure of is every fairy tale I grew up hearing has come to life in Mercyville, and some Erl-King wants me to be his bride!”
“His bride?” Tom said, looking worried.
“Yeah,” she said. “When I first dreamed he came here last night, he called me his bride.”
Tom rubbed his chin, setting the spoon aside as he looked out the windows at the last gloaming and the woods out back. “Did he, now,” he said. “That’s unusual.”
“Why?”
“Well, the Erl-King favorite sport has always been to steal children to add to his goblin armies,” Tom said.
“Yeah, well if he wants to steal children around here, he’ll find a passel of them to pick and choose from,” she said. “But he should know that most of them are mean enough to make snacks of his other goblins.”
“Aye, well if he’s proposing to you, he must be getting desperate...”
“Oh, thank you very much!” Katie said.
Tom looked amused at her outburst. “Oh, no, dear Katie,” he said. “I meant no offense. Why, your sloe-eyed beauty’s enough to warm the cockles of any man’s heart if he’s got half the sense of the mother that raised him. But if the Erl-King wants you for a bride, it’s not likely he’s thinking hearth and home. He’s probably more interested in what you can give him otherwise.”
“Which is?”
“The key to keeping the Seelie Gate closed forever,” Tom said, and his voice had an ominous sound. Katie frowned, thinking of asking “What key?” but the green beans started boiling over. She rushed past Tom to stop the cascade that was filling the kitchen with steam and threatening to burn out the eye of the stove.
“Miss Katie, do I smell something burning?” came Sally’s voice from the hall.
“It’s okay,” Katie said, but she might as well have kept the words to herself. Sally came into the kitchen, fussing like an old hen.
“Look at this,” she said. “I just cleaned that stove yesterday.”
“Sorry,” Katie said, noticing the amusement glittering in Tom’s green eyes.
“Well, it looks done enough,” Sally said. “You go finish the table child, and let me finish this meal.”
Katie rolled her eyes, knowing there was no way in the world she would be able to oust Sally from the kitchen now.
EIGHT
“More green beans, Mister Tom?” Sally said, smiling for their guest, and Katie was amused by the difference in the old woman’s behavior now that Tom looked clean and decent.
“Thank you, no, gracious lady,” Tom said. “Much more, and I fear I shall not be able to rise from this chair under my own power.”
With all that hot air you’re full of? Katie thought. Try floating. Actually, she had gotten a great deal of pleasure out of watching Tom charm Sally. The elderly woman had gone from fixing him with a dubious glance to giggling girlishly at his whimsical tales. Tom had a gift for storytelling, and it was Katie’s opinion that he could have made a good living at the number of local festivals his art inspired.
“Miss Katie?” Sally said, offering the bowl in Katie’s direction.
“No, thank you,” Katie said.
“Then I guess I’d better see to the clearing and Mister Tom’s laundry...”
“I’ll see to the clearing and the laundry,” Katie said firmly. “You can go lie down.”
“Oh, but I feel much better now,” Sally said.
“No,” Katie said. “I’ll see to everything.”
“Katie’s right,” Tom suddenly said. “You need your rest, dear lady, and I’ll not have you tire yourself out for the likes of me. I’ll help Miss Katie with the dishes. It’s only fair.”
Gallantly, Tom rose, taking Sally’s frail hand in his own. She looked startled as he assisted her from the chair and led her towards the door. There, he bowed like a true gentleman. “Good night and pleasant dreams, dear lady,” Tom said.
Sally left without another word of argument. Katie shook her head as she rose from the table and seized up the plates. Tom returned almost immediately, and true to his word, he fetched several items from the table and followed Katie to the sink.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“Ah, but I’ve always been a man of my word. I promised the lady I would, and so I shall. Where should I put these?”
“In the dishwasher,” Katie said and pointed to the door under the counter. “But put the scraps in that bowl. I generally set them out to feed the critters.”
“Which ones?” Tom asked.
“The woodland variety,” Katie said, though with all that was happening now, she was just as apt to be feeding goblins and bogles as not. She wondered if they would like pepper sauce sprinkled on their scraps. Or iron nails.
Tom dutifully emptied the plates as Katie dumped leftover green beans and corn into sealed containers to store in the fridge. In no time, the dishwasher was loaded, and the clothes were in the washing machine. Katie dumped in some vinegar as well, hoping to kill the odor thes
e clothes were apt to leave in the tub. She started coffee brewing. By the time she had two cups of it ready, Tom had gone to explore the front rooms, and look at the collections of odd memorabilia Katie’s family had collected over the years. She noticed he also peered out windows and checked locks.
“One can never be too sure,” he said when she raised eyebrows and offered him one of the cups. “In fact, if you’ve red thread and bits of iron, we would do well to dangle them in the windows.”
Katie nodded. “I think we still have some boxes of nails in the cellar.”
“Shall we fetch them then, and get to work?” Tom said.
Crazy as it sounded, Katie agreed. Who was she to judge what was crazy just now anyway? She led the way into the cellar to collect a box of ten-penny nails from her father’s workbench. There were plenty of spools of thread in the old sewing room her mother had kept. She and Tom went from room to room, dangling nails on red thread fixing them to the windows so they could be seen from outside. She used the time to tell him about her dream, describing the Erl-King as he had appeared then, and how he had first taken on Dan’s shape to get her to come to the window.
“Crafty creature,” Tom said. “He must have seen you with your young lad, or found him in your dreams.”
That was disturbing, to think the Erl-King could enter her dreams and take what he needed from them to haunt her. Who else would the Erl-King find there to taunt her with? For that matter, would he enter the dreams of others and use those dreams against them? Was that how the hag had lured Dan to the window?
“The old woman,” Tom asked as they finished up in the living room. “Why is she so frail?”
“Bad heart,” Katie informed him. She knotted the thread and made a loop, running it over the curtain rod. “Dad was always trying to get Sally to retire, but since this is pretty much the only home she knows, she refuses to go to one of those retirement villages in Florida.”
“Really?” Tom looked keenly interested. “Why is that?”
“Well, what I heard was that she came here during the Depression when my great grandfather William MacLeod was still alive,” Katie said. “She was sixteen and pregnant. Her family had thrown her out because she wouldn’t name the father, and she stumbled into this place, half-starved and ill. Great Grandmother was the one who took pity on Sally. Insisted on keeping her as a maid, and in exchange for her services, gave her room and board, and offered to foot the bills when the child was born.”
Angels of Mercy Page 8
