Ever After (8 page)

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Authors: Odessa Gillespie Black

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Paranormal, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Ever After
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“Don’t talk with your mouth full. You’re hopeless.” She clucked her tongue and then turned to me. “My dear, if you’d like seconds, you should probably put in for them now. Cole can down some food.”

I stared fearfully at Cole’s plate. Could he really eat all that?

He gave her that little eye gesture thing. Sort of flirty. Yet full of bad boy.

Nancy’s cheeks reddened. “You’re not a bit cute.”

Cole turned back to his plate. Every gargantuan bite of food he shoveled into his mouth should have weighed him down, but the circles under his eyes lightened and his demeanor shifted. Cole devoured the last of a pile of pancakes and eggs. His hand brushed mine as we both reached for a napkin from the center of the table. He jerked back.

“Sorry,” I said, still a little put off with him.

Frozen, he stared into my eyes for a few seconds. His gaze went to my hair. Cole’s eyes glinted a lighter green as his gaze traveled down my neck. He stopped the appraisal by grabbing up his napkin. He wiped his lips. “I just don’t like people in my personal space.”

“Personal space?” I smirked. “You weren’t too worried about personal space last night. I think I have a bruise or two from your grip.”

A frying pan clattered. Nancy turned from the oven and stared at us.

Cole’s eyes twitched again, the way they did when I’d said just the right thing.

“Yeah, walk much?”

I bit the inside of my lips.

Nancy wrenched the dishtowel. Was she going to pop him with it?

“Where are your manners?” Her face pinched in disapproval.

“Don’t even start.” He dropped his fork on his plate with a loud clang and shoved it away.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young man.”

Cole stood and took his half-emptied plate to the dishwasher.

“So, Miss Knowles, are you married? Cole hasn’t been on a date in quite some time.” Nancy turned to face the sink, a smile visible on the side of her face.

Cole actually dropped his plate. Luckily, the rack inside the dishwasher was plastic coated.

Nancy’s mischievous smile widened. “You know what they say about the energies of people who argue like cats and dogs when they meet—”

“I’ve heard quite enough of your astrology b.s. Stars do not dictate who I fall in love with. Trust me on this one.”

I could have crawled under the table.

“Suit yourself. Go milk a cow, plow a field, or shovel manure until you’re old. Just waste away a lonely old man, ’cause that’s what you’re going to be.” Nancy’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. “There will never be any babies around here for me to spoil.”

Cole openly stared at her as if he might hurtle the closest thing he could find in her direction. Nancy tipped a nod in my direction.

Cole’s eyes twitched as he stared her down.

She huffed and gave up, turning back to the stove. She picked up a cast iron frying pan, and went to work cleaning eggs out of it.

“I’ll see you whenever you’re done with breakfast. Take your time. You can afford to, but some of us do have to work. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be feeding the cattle.” He shoved through the swinging door. Nancy turned an apologetic smile in my direction.

“Don’t pay him too much mind. He’s been this way since I’ve known him. He doesn’t take kindly to females. Except Ava. She was the closest thing he had to a mother other than me.” One side of Nancy’s mouth pulled back in a sad grimace.

“Do you think he hates me because of this whole crazy will mix-up?”

“Cole Kinsley could care less about the money. And as I’m sure you’ve heard already, Ava didn’t make mistakes. She was born incapable. Regarding Cranky-pants, he’s miserable because he’s lonely. And from what I saw of his reaction to you this morning, you probably remind him of everything he doesn’t have.” Nancy patted my shoulder and turned to answer a service bell in the dining hall.

* * * *

The long stone hallways were lined with paintings from different eras. It was time to get to know the woman who thought enough of me to leave me everything she owned.

The first painting on the left was a young girl. The plaque read, “Ava Maryann Rollins 1948.” She’d had brown hair, green eyes and a tall, skinny figure. She reminded me of a snooty pencil. The rest on the left side of that hall showed the progression of her age until 1999.On the other side of the wall staring across at her were countless paintings of people wearing clothing from the 1800s until now. All their faces were emotionless, so there wasn’t much I could learn there.

The golden double doors of the ballroom were closed. The day before, Thomas had shown them to me but hadn’t opened them. The only activity they’d had in years was the apparent party the family had thrown that night.

The hardwood floors shined, and the brass chandelier sparkled, but the musty heaviness in the air might never go away. Fastened to the wall between floor-length mirrors, candelabra’s of the same brass hung unlit.

I opened the grand piano and let my fingers trail over the keys. How long ago had stringed instruments played against a backdrop of gay laughter? I closed the piano with a nostalgic sigh. Oh, to have lived in those times.

Pulling the door shut, I went to search out Cole. Even in the summer heat, I shivered as I walked the long picture-filled hallway. Welcoming the warm summer heat and the noise of the worker’s activity outside, I hurried from the patio. Past the rose maze. Toward the barns. A worker carrying a box passed me.

“Excuse me. Do you happen to know where I might find Cole Kinsley?” I said.

Without a word or smile, the worker pointed toward the field and hurried on.

They hated me too.

In the distance, a tractor headed toward a waiting group of cows. On its front, two prongs stabbed into a round bale of hay. The crowd of cows followed the tractor like ducks. When the tractor dropped the hay, the cows huddled around it.

I gave Cole a half-hearted wave.

He returned a snarl of acknowledgement.

Cole parked the tractor and rounded the corner of the barn in long, swift strides. He wiped his hands on a white towel and slung it over the rung of a ladder propped against the barn wall.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for his foul attitude.

“The electrical is out in the catacombs, so we’ll walk around the immediate landmarks. Probably best to start at the nature trails.” Cole walked ahead of me. His pace kept me in an almost run as we made our way past the barn toward the woods.

“Maybe I want to start with the catacombs.” I smiled sweetly.

“Figures.”

“You should really lighten up. You’re gonna stroke out. So, seriously, I’ve never seen an underground tunnel. Can’t we use flashlights?” I asked in a syrupy voice.

“I wouldn’t have said anything last night if I’d known you’d actually want to go down there, but if you insist.” We turned around, and he increased his pace. “I mean, they are just dark holes burrowed into the earth, with God only knows what crawling around in it.”

Funny. It hadn’t taken much for him to give in to me.

He walked toward the newly wood-sealed doors of the barn. He probably sealed them before they ever saw their first sign of weathering. Everything in the barn was in pristine condition, organized by shape, size, and type.

“I’ll show you the entrance as long as you promise me something.” Cole turned, and he settled a serious and infuriatingly sexy gaze on me.

What had he just said?

“Uncloud your ditzy head and listen to me. Repeating myself is about as enjoyable as having you under my feet at every step. Now, don’t go into the tunnels without me. They can be confusing, and if you get lost, it could take a day or more to find you. I don’t feel like trekking through them for hours because you won’t follow sane advice.” Cole turned back to a stack of drawers near the door and grabbed out only one long, silver flashlight and dropped it in a loop in his jeans. When he turned back, he slammed into me.

“You’re worse than a puppy.” He held my arms to steady me. For a second, we stayed. His hands on my arms, my gaze and his tethered. Cole dropped my arms and walked around me.

One flashlight. Great.

“I swear, only you and moles would enjoy wallowing around in dirt.” Cole muttered the whole time as he walked ahead of me. Again, he almost slammed me in the barn door. “Pick up the pace.”

Cole stopped in front of the rose maze, an arch of greenery filled with little boughs of roses soaring over our heads.

“The rose maze? What are we doing here?” This was not the dark, looming entrance I had expected.

“The entrance is in the center.” Cole sent me an infuriating smile. He took the twists and turns so fast a normal person wouldn’t have had time to memorize the maze. Cole was a trained mouse in a lab experiment. He never took one wrong turn.

It took us a full ten minutes to reach the center. The last row of hedges sandwiched us, leading into an opening surrounded by a wall of roses. A cement, 3-dimensional monument of a family tree with plaques dangling from branches was the centerpiece of the maze. Four stone benches surrounded it.

Cole kicked dirt clods from around a spot three feet from the middle bench. He reached into the vine floor covering and pulled a loop attached to a door. Grass roots made a ripping noise as he shoved the door to the side. He waved the flashlight’s yellow glow down wooden dust covered steps. “See? Dirt.”

The hole was dark and musty.

“Now. You’ve seen it. Let’s go.” He started to drop the wood panel back over the hole.

I stopped him. “Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy.”

“You can’t possibly want to go down there. Are you sure you’re a girl?” Cole’s eyes locked with mine, but as soon as he said it, his cheeks flushed crimson.

I grinned, jerked the flashlight from him, and started down the wooden steps, each moaning under my weight. When I got to the bottom, I waved the light over three paths on all sides of me.

Cole came down after me, cursing the whole way.

Rotting garbage and the stench of something dead stifled me. I pinched my nose and breathed through my mouth. Suddenly, wallowing around in dirt didn’t seem like such a good idea. Not even with him. “What is that smell?”

“Probably a tunnel straight to the septic tank. Told you this was no place for a—you.” He cleared his throat.

“What’s in that direction?” I pointed to tunnel number two with my flashlight.

“The woods and a swimming hole.”

“And tunnel number three?” I jabbed the flashlight opposite the sewage tunnel.

Cole straightened and faced the steps.

“What? What is it?”

“The basement.”

“And why didn’t you take me through there instead of through all this trouble?”

“Because the door is covered from inside,” Cole said. “And even if it wasn’t, I told you. This isn’t a place for a girl-scout scavenger hunt. There are snakes, spiders, and possibly larger animals that could hurt you.”

“Have you ever seen any down here? Really, how big could a mole get?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I have. Now let’s go before one takes your leg off.” Cole took the flashlight.

My interest changed to fear. Then I caught his smart-aleck joke.

The tilting steps took us back into summer sunlight. The floral scent of the fresh air lightened my mood.

“Now let’s finish this tour.” Cole shoved the door back over the hole and brushed past me.

We left the confines of the rose maze and came up on another out building. Cole stopped in front of it.

“Like the main house, the carriage house was somewhat extravagant. The second floor has been uninhabited living quarters since the early 1900s. It used to be the housekeeper’s quarters, like my cottage.” Distanced from the main house, a little cottage was nestled in the trees.

That made sense. If I was as cranky as him, I’d want to be alone too.

His brow wrinkled as he regarded his home. “It’s my getaway when the drama at the house gets to be too much.”

“Why would you stay in that little thing at all?” By the count of windows on the front, which was two, there couldn’t be more than four rooms.

“I like the privacy.” He paused. “Unless me staying out there conflicts with your idea of where hired help should live?”

Did he really think I was that callous?

Cole stepped into the tool shed to replace the flashlight and reappeared in the bright sun.

My breath caught in my throat for a second. “You can drop it with the attitude. I get it. You hate me and can’t wait for me to leave, but I have to find out what’s going on here. And if I do actually gain control of this house, I have no plans of changing anyone’s way of life.”

Just when hot tears threatened to spill, Cole watched me thoughtfully.

“I take care of what I care about. And this house is the only place I could ever picture myself living.” He examined my face intently.

“So, you actually care about something? Because it sure seems you couldn’t care less about how you make other people feel.” My voice cracked on the last word.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” He started to step closer but stopped. He made a funny, uncomfortable noise. “You are not going to cry on me.”

“Then quit trying to make me.”

“I wasn’t—okay, listen. I don’t hate you. I’m concerned with the job security of the only family I’ve ever known. I don’t mean to attack you personally. Much.” He let a half-hearted smile through.

My breath snagged in my throat, the tears forgotten.

“I’m attacking what Ava’s actions might mean for all of us.” For once he appeared vulnerable, which made it hard to hold a grudge. Cole twitched and took a step away. His face brightened.

I sniffled and wiped my eyes.

“Come on. There’s more to see.”

Trees shaded a trail lined with twigs and summer flowers.

This time he walked slower.

“There’s something at the end I was sorta hoping you wouldn’t tear down,
if
you are in fact the sole heiress.” He flicked his eyebrow into a quick arch and grinned apologetically.

“A shopping mall would look great right about here,” I said. “You’re not going to blindfold me, are you?”

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