by Midge Cline
“You mean she was raped, murdered and stuffed in the priest hole.” Nigel said with sadness. “Vile.”
“I would like to say that mankind has changed over the centuries, that men like this have been bred out of the modern man, but we both know that just isn’t the truth.” Gwynn said with a sigh. “But, we have taught our daughter to defend herself, to protect herself, and I pray every day that we have taught her well enough.”
“We have, Binne has a pretty smart head on her shoulders, just like her mom.” He assured her as he took the folder from her hands and dropped it on the carpet beside them, he slid his wife on to his lap and began kissing her with clear intent.
“What are you doing?” Gwynn asked with a playful laugh.
“Binne is in the village with Doc and Colt, Dexter and Tate are in the tower with the crew, Bonnie is at her church meeting, and I do not actually care where Pippa is, we have this gigantic house to ourselves in the middle of the afternoon, what do you think I am doing?”
Neither of them noticed as their bedroom door slowly closed itself, to give them privacy.
****
Binne swallowed her glass of juice as she jogged in place. “Where are you off to this early in the morning?” He father’s voice surprised her, and she jumped slightly, causing her to dribble juice down the front of her shirt. She quickly grabbed a paper towel. “I thought I would get my jog with the dogs in early this morning, Colt has promised to teach me to fish and I am supposed to meet him in an hour by the pond.”
“Teach you to fish?” Her father laughed. “Why? Did you suddenly forget how?”
“Hush you,” She laughed, placed a loving kiss on his forehead and jogged out the door, excited pups at her heels.
“She is off early this morning.” Gwynn said as she entered the room, making a beeline for the coffee pot.
“It seems that young Colt is going to ‘teach’ her to fish this morning and she wanted to get her jog in first.” Nigel told her with a knowing smile.
“Ah yes, I remember letting you ‘teach’ me to rock climb in much the same way.” She laughed as she sat across from him to peel an orange.
“Huh, I always just thought you picked it up quickly. Manipulating women, the lot of ya!” He faked indignation.
“Yup, it is genetic. The same way your father ‘taught’ your mom archery. Despite her years of lessons and trophies. It is not that we are manipulative, it is that men are gullible, and eager to teach us new things.” She pointed out. “To impress upon the woman that he can provide and protect her.”
“And women allow this behavior?” He questioned.
“Of course, men’s egos are fragile things, and a man with a broken ego is a terrible provider and protector.” She agreed as she sipped her coffee.
****
The work trucks arrived as Binne stepped out the door, she slipped on her headphones, turned on her music playlist, slipped the phone into the sheath strapped to her forearm, waved politely to the crew as they climbed out of the trucks and began her jog toward the pond.
Bob Wyatt stepped forward, as if to follow her, but Alex McHenry placed a firm hand on the large man’s arm.
“We have a lot to get done this morning. Logan is pulling up now, we better get in and get started.” Alex told him firmly. His dark brown eyes passing an unmistakable message of warning.
“Right you are.” Bob Wyatt said with fake cheer, “Let’s get to work.” There was no smile in either man’s eyes.
Thirty minutes later Alex pulled Logan aside and told him of the incident, and of his concerns.
“Thank you for bringing it to my attention Alex, I will keep an eye on him,” Logan sighed with heavy thought. “Look, I know you all thought I should have fired him after the Baxter girl, but I had no proof of him doing anything actually illegal that I could fire him over. I will let Oliver know that Bob is not to be left unsupervised, even for lunch. Tate Brooks has hired us, even though Wyatt is on the crew, and Tate is a good friend of the Baxter’s. Good looking out.” Logan clapped Alex’s arm in a manly show of appreciation. “Let me know if you see anything else I should know about.”
Alex nodded as he went back to the tower to get back to work. He watched knowingly as Oliver and Logan walked off in the distance talking casually. The Baxter girl had never said Wyatt had touched her, or did anything inappropriate, just that she caught him leering at her, watching her, making her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t say anything until she was sunning herself by the pool and he asked her if she had ever sunbathed topless. She was nine. Alex knew Logan as a fair man, he transferred Wyatt to another job site within an hour. But Alex was the eldest male child, in a family of 7 kids, with 4 baby sisters. Kids brought out his inner guardian.
****
Binne and the dogs had jogged slowly around the pond twice by the time Colt joined in step beside her, matching her pace.
“I’ve set up over by the big oak.” He told her as he matched her stride.
“You are a half an hour early!” She chided as she checked her watch.
“Yeah, Dad came in early, so I caught a ride, Mum is up at the Hall too, her and your mom are making some pastries for the church sale this weekend.” He told her as he pulled an apple out of his pocket, turned himself so he was jogging beside her backwards and took a healthy bite from his fruit.
She laughed when he stumbled and nearly tripped over a branch on the path. He spit out his bite of apple before he could choke on it. His face now crimson red.
“You picked a nice spot to fish; the oak will be nice for the shade.” She said nothing about his near crash and choke.
“I brought us a nice breakfast too, Mum sent some sweet rolls, fruit and juice. And-” He looked down at the furry beasts that ran in front of them. “She sent along some meat treats for them too.”
They stopped jogging when they came to the tree, Binne did her cool down routine while Colt opened one of his two knapsacks to retrieve the blanket and the small folding stools he had brought. He set the chairs as close to the pond shore as he could and laid the folded blanket on the ground between them. He unloaded the fishing gear to front side of the blanket and the container of wrapped food to the back side. Binne grabbed the two fishing poles leaning against the Oak trees and took a seat on one of the stools.
“It is going to be a lovely day for fishing!” Binne said as she grabbed a bottle of juice and took a long pull while Colt baited her hook. She fought back the urge to tell him he was doing it wrong and smiled with gratitude as he handed it to her. She was patient when he taught her to cast the line. And he was aptly impressed by how quickly she picked up the skills.
She spotted Dexter and Seriah as they walked around the graveyard, talking and pointing, Seriah occasionally snapping a photo of the grounds or a headstone.
“I wonder what they are doing?” Colt asked nodding toward the couple.
“Getting along. Nothing else matters but that right now.” Binne said with a soft voice.
“What is up with them?” Colt asked, “I mean, they are married, aren’t they?”
“About five years ago Auntie announced she was going to have a baby, they were so happy, so excited, they had names picked out and redecorated a nursery, picked out schools and godparents, the whole bit.” Binne said, blinking back sadness as she allowed her gaze to wander back to her godparents. “Then one night in Paris, they were in a horrific accident. Uncle Dexter blames himself because he was driving, Auntie blames herself because she lost the baby and was told she could never carry another, and neither of them think to blame the guy who was driving the car that hit them while having a grand mal seizure. It sort of destroyed them both. I think that when they look at each other they only see what they lost, and not what they still have. Uncle Dexter will never love another woman like he does Auntie, and she just never looks at any other man. If I could wave a magic wand and make them see how dumb they are for not being together.” She sighed.
Dexter and Seriah talk
ed amicably as they made their way through the grave markers.
“I think Colt and Binne are a bit taken with each other, should we worry?” Dexter asked, his eyes looking past his wife to the teens by the pond.
“Worry? About Binne? Every moment of every day. Just not about this. She has a good head on her shoulders. She knows what is up in the real world, more than most girls her age.” Seriah said calmly.
“Young love can do things to your brain. Hell, so can old love. But teen love, it is the worst, plays hell on the cognitive skills.” Dexter said with a laugh.
Seriah took another snapshot of the gravestones, moving to another she mis-stepped and caught her foot on the entangled exposed roots on the ground nearly falling.
Dexter moved quickly, catching his wife before she could connect with the soil.
“Dex-” She began, but her words were cut off by Dexter’s eager lips. This kiss was long and deep, filled with love and memories, passion and animal lust.
Seriah struggled without determination, but Dexter released her and stood her upright anyway.
“Careful, Doc, you just might fall.” He warned, his voice thick and husky with desire. His intense eyes boring through to her soul. Seriah could not speak, as her husband called out to Binne and began walking toward the pond, leaving her standing wordlessly amongst the dead and buried.
****
“Quite an impressive haul, you two, do I need to have the pond re-stocked?” Nigel laughed as he ate his meal.
“We only caught 12, Dad,” Binne protested with a smile. “But, Uncle Dexter only caught one.”
“One, this time, but you two had quite a head start on me. Besides, you have always been a better fisherman than I have Binne Morgan, and you know it. I was there when you were born, pole and tackle in hand.” Dexter teased.
“You, um, knew how to fish?” Colt said quietly.
“I may have gone a time or two, but I have never fished in a pond before.” Binne admitted honestly. “I learned a lot today.” She assured him.
“Oh, yeah pond fishing is different than other kinds, I guess.” He said. Obviously deciding this was true, his fragile ego repaired, he enjoyed his meal. As the conversation turned to the restoration of the tower, the report on the bones from the home office and the news that the bones were now in a vault waiting for Dexter and Nigel to continue examining them at the University.
Gwynn and Bonnie talked quietly about the upcoming bake sale to raise money for the church’s new roof.
“The church needs a new roof?” Seriah’s attention was now fully on the conversation.
“It is in sore need, for sure.” Bonnie said. “We have about a third of the cost of materials, and Tate has volunteered to do his share of the work for free. But that still leaves the cost of the other laborers.”
“What kind of investment?” Seriah paused. “How much does the church need, for full materials and labor, including Tate’s?”
“Just over 14 thousand pounds.” Tate said solemnly, “The women’s auxiliary and the flower club have raised four. But in all honesty, the patches I have been putting up there over the last few years, are not going to hold out until they find the rest of the monies.”
“Tate!” His wife admonished. “We are doing the best we can.”
“I know petal, but I have to be honest. And this job.” He waved his hands around him. “At the Hall, will keep our family from the poor house, and still give a good donation to the roof, but it isn’t going to be enough to save it in time.”
“All right, the estate will donate twenty thousand pounds to your roof fund, on the condition that any remaining balance of the monies be relegated to the Church’s food pantry.” Seriah said casually.
“I will match her donation to create a maintenance fund to keep the church and its new roof in good repair.” Dexter added.
Tate moved quickly to her side, as Bonnie burst into tears of relief and happiness.
“I- you- we-I-” She stammered.
“I think she is trying to say thank you,” Tate laughed happily, drying his wife’s tears with his thumb.
“I have found that in order for a village to thrive, not just survive,” Seriah explained. “It needs more than just jobs and schools.”
“It needs a sense of community.” Dexter said. “And in this village the heart of that seems to be the local church.”
“With a new roof, a food pantry and temporary relief from the worry of future repairs-” Seriah began.
“The church can focus on youth programs, elderly care and more community outreach programs.” Dexter finished.
Gwynn and Nigel shared a knowing smile, they knew this was a good sign, their friends were working together, found a common battle, a united front to bring them together.
“Is it okay if Colt and I are excused? We want to play some video games for a bit?” Binne interrupted. With a nod from the adults they nearly ran from the room.
“Your Godparents are something else, you weren’t kidding about what would happen if they found out the church needed money.” Colt smiled as they set up the game in the family room.
“Yeah, Auntie once told me she had been gifted with station and money, but that her real blessing was a sense of duty to her country, something her father and grandfather fulfilled by serving in the wars, and her mother and grandmother fulfilled by serving the community. She is convinced that is the reason she was born a Duchess, and not a serving maid. So she could help more people.”
“I didn't think people thought that way outside of the village.” Colt admitted.
“They do, everywhere I have ever been, there have been good people who only want to make the world better. They sort of offset the villains of the world. Keep the balance from tilting into chaos, ya know?” Binne told him. “I remember, a village when we were on a dig in Africa, in the desert region, the well was nearly dry. Uncle had an expert out there in a matter of days, new water found, well dug and a water storage system in place by the end of a week. They have a knack for knowing just how much help to give without creating a dependency. By helping the church, they create a sense of community, and the community will use the funds as a stepping stone to move up with. It has been explained to me my entire life, probably so I will do the same when I get older. Keep the tradition alive and all that.”
“Yeah? I can see you doing just that.” He smiled, “Let’s kill some dead things.”
****
“That was quite generous of you,” Seriah told Dexter. “You did not have to match funds with me.”
“It was the right thing to do, I was in the village yesterday for a bit, I have seen the roof. That estimate Tate gave was highly discounted. And I saw the villagers too, struggling to market their goods without having to leave the village for work.” Dexter explained. “Nigel’s museum will bring in a few jobs, but this village needs more than a few. I am ‘having a think on it’ as Binne would say. Wondering how to create long term jobs without affecting the infrastructure of the village.” She nodded in agreement, bringing in jobs was important, but it had to be done without undermining the local goods and shops that were already in place. Large stores benefit communities in immediate employment but make it near impossible for local craftsmen to compete in the cost vs quality economic realities of the modern world.
“I will help you in any way, you always have my support, you know that.” Dexter casually traced the form of her hand with his strong fingers. ‘Maybe we can build a school, a trade school.”
“A trade school?” Seriah’s attention was immediately captured. “Intriguing idea.”
“I bet we could lease out parts of the Hall for the classes. Until we can build other accommodations. The students can rent accommodations in the village. That will certainly boost the economy a bit, and we can offer drastically reduced tuitions as well as scholarships to residents. There appears to be plenty of empty housing available.” Dexter’s thoughts ran excitedly as he spoke. His hand still holding hers.
>
“I am sure we can find teachers easy enough, classes like carpentry and masonry and the like.” Seriah said. “And investors as well, let me make a few calls, I think this is a truly viable idea, but not one I can do without them.”
“I am sure I can convince the Board to give it University support as well.” Dexter’s fingers entwined with hers as they sat before the fire in the study. She did not pull away.
****
Binne ran into the tower, her quick eyes scanned the dust for her father.
“Dad! Mr. Wexford is on the phone for you!” She carefully picked her way through the debris on the tower floor to bring her father his cell phone.
“There is my phone!” Her father laughed. “Can you do me a favor, pet?” He waved a hand at a wooden crate full of candlesticks, votives, and other miscellaneous trinkets they had found in the tower so far. “Will you take that crate over to the stable? Tate has set up a place to keep them safe until we can sort through them.”
“Of course.” She said, bending to pick up the crate, she felt the tingling sensation of being watched and turned slowly to find Bob Wyatt watching her from across the room. He was running his tongue across his lips, wetting them to the point of perversion. His eyes were filled with leering lecherousness. Binne felt her skin crawl as she made her way out of the tower. Her distraction causing her to trip, looking down she called out to her father to see her discovery. A rusted metal handle inset in the floor had caught her toe.
“It looks like a trap door!” Nigel exclaimed with excitement as he knelt to examine it. “It is pretty rusted, it might take us a bit to open it.”
“I’ll leave you to it, I’ll take this over to the stables.” Binne said as she picked the crate up again and made her way out the door, smiling at her father’s distracted mumble.
She found the stable door open and stepped inside, pausing for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the significantly diminished light. A dark shadow blocked the light from the door behind her, she turned to find Bob Wyatt looming in the doorway.
