The Hollow (18 page)

I almost had myself convinced, when I spotted someone. My heart sped up until I saw that it was Nikolas. Disappointment set back in. I opened my mouth to say something, but realized awkwardly that I didn't know what to say.

I don't know if I made some type of weird noise with my mouth hanging open like that, or if he just sensed I was there somehow, but suddenly he turned and looked my way. A wide grin split his face and he put up one hand in a wave. I smiled back and quickened my pace.

"Hello, Nikolas," I said once I got closer.

His hair was even more windblown than it had been before, but his eyes were still warm and friendly. He nodded his head in greeting. "Katy, look, we have a visitor. The young lady I told you about," Nikolas called out.

I turned in the general direction where he seemed to be speaking. Farther down another path an older woman was placing a single flower along each gravestone. She looked our way, and I could see her wrinkled face light up with a smile. Her long strawberry-golden hair was tied back in gentle waves, and she was wearing an old-fashioned skirt that should have looked completely out of place, yet suited her perfectly. She bent to pick up her basket from the ground, and then lifted it high and started toward us.

Nikolas reached out his hand to help her when she reached us. She gave it a quick squeeze, and Nikolas made the introductions. "This is Abigail-er, Abbey, sweet." He turned to me. "And this is my wife, Katy."

"It's very nice to meet you," I said. Her eyes were just like his-friendly, and crinkly in the corners-but they were clear blue. Even brighter than my own blue eyes.

"How lovely to meet you, Abbey," she replied. "Nikolas told me that you helped him tend to Mr. Irving. They so enjoyed the company. Would you care to join us for some tea this afternoon?" She looked at me hopefully.

"Do you have any peppermint tea?" I asked, grinning at Nikolas. They both chuckled.

"Ahh, yes, of course. It's our favorite kind," said Katy.

"Then I would love to," I agreed.

Katy passed the basket she held over to Nikolas. "If you will carry that for me, love, we'll lead the way." Then she gave him a questioning look, and he nodded once.

Grabbing my hand, Katy tucked it into the crook of her elbow.

I didn't know where we were headed-there weren't any houses close to this side of the cemetery-but she just started walking, and I tried to keep up. She was surprisingly fast for someone who was probably sixty years older than me.

We walked for a while along that path. Every now and then it would wind sharply to one side or the other. The farther we walked, the more frequent the twists and turns became. The foliage also started to get denser. Trees seemed to stand closer together, with their branches interwoven tightly among each other, filtering the daylight so that it broke through only in small patches.

The ground was overflowing with springy moss and sparse flowers. Wild ferns pushed their way onto the pathway, invading our space. They seemed to be reaching out to grasp the edges of our clothing as we passed by. I suppose the changes in the scenery should have made me a little apprehensive, but being with Nikolas and Katy put my mind at ease.

I could hear the shrill chirping of birds, singing along to a scattered melody that only they knew. A sharp
tap, tap, tap
indicated a woodpecker was nearby, and as we passed a giant tree trunk, I caught sight of it. His head was fiery red, and he took a moment from his pecking to look back at me, as if astonished to see someone so near his claimed space.

It was all so… amazing. I had spent plenty of time outside, and had certainly seen trees and plants and birds before, but this… this was completely different. Out here was wild and untouched. Nature as it was meant to be.

What surprised me the most, though, was that I had never noticed this place. I thought Kristen and I had explored every inch of the cemetery grounds.

All of a sudden Katy slowed, and indicated that we were going to cross a small wooden bridge that was just ahead. The rickety old slats of the bridge jumped and rattled beneath our feet as we crossed, causing a
clip, clop
sound to echo around us. It created an eerie ambiance, and I glanced behind me more than once to make sure I wasn't being followed by an actual horse. And perhaps a headless rider…?

I looked down at the shallow stream below me and felt silly. The Horseman couldn't cross water. What was I thinking? Forcing a laugh as we stepped off the bridge, I breathed a not-so-silent sigh of relief. Nikolas was a step behind us, but he caught up quickly.

My jaw dropped when I looked up and saw what was waiting in front of me. It was the most perfect straight-from-the-pages-of-a-storybook cottage I had ever seen.

The walls were built with large, uneven rounded stones, while the roof looked like it had been laid with thatched shingles. Various plants grew abundantly underneath each leaded glass arched window. A trailing vine of purple flowers was creeping up the massive stone chimney on the left of the wooden front door.

"Wisteria," I said softly to myself. I recognized it from the Irving estate. "Your home is absolutely beautiful!" I breathed in with awe. "I didn't know that anyone lived back here."

Katy nodded. "Thank you for your compliment. I know my home appreciates it." There was a twinkle in her eye.

"I'm glad your home enjoys compliments," I said with a smile. I took another moment to gaze at my beautiful surroundings, and Nikolas stepped around us to place the basket he had been carrying next to the front door. Then he gently pushed the door open, and held out his hand, waiting for Katy, who had stooped down to snap off a dead leaf from one of the wisteria vines. She placed her hand in his, and they crossed the threshold together, sharing a look that made me fiercely miss my own long-dead grandparents. "Please make yourself at home, Abbey," Katy called from inside the house.

I took a deep breath and walked in, unsure of what I'd see. But it didn't disappoint. It was just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside.

There were flowers absolutely
everywhere.
The house looked like it could have been a flower shop. Bunches of dried flowers hung from the exposed rafter beams and from the walls, while fresh flowers filled ancient glass bottles that covered every spare surface.

The counters were neat and clean, uncluttered by snacks or junk food like the ones at my house. Not even so much as a loaf of bread was sitting out. An old spinning wheel hung on one of the white walls, but the obvious gathering place was a massive slate table, worn with age, set up in front of the brick fireplace.

I stood there awkwardly, not really sure what to do now that I was actually inside the house, but Katy told me to have a seat and gestured toward the table. Pulling out an ornately carved wooden chair, I did as I was told.

Nikolas puttered over to a metal teakettle hanging next to the fireplace, took it to the sink, and spoke quietly to Katy while he filled it with water. She took some leaves out of a bowl on the countertop and brought them over to him. Smoothing down his wild hair with one wrinkled hand, she gave him a look that made me feel like I was intruding on a very personal moment. I looked away and let my mind wander.

I could totally see myself here. Surrounded by my bottles, and oils, and glass jars. Making my own peppermint tea, with someone who had white-blond hair and green eyes, and a smile that made me melt. We would set up a little work space underneath the window by the sink, and I would create my perfumes all day long with a perfect view of the garden outside. A fat lazy cat would lie in front of the fireplace, and in the afternoon Caspian and I would take our tea together. He would help me label scents, and fill bottles, and lift all the things that were too heavy for me, and we would talk about anything and everything while we worked side by side.

The sudden metal clang of the teapot hitting the hook it would hang from in the fireplace interrupted my daydreams, and I mentally reigned myself in. Was I really rearranging someone else's house to fit my needs and planning out Caspian's future for him? What was wrong with me? What if he didn't want to live in a cozy cottage and fill bottles, or lift heavy things, or take afternoon tea breaks? What if he wanted to do something entirely different with his life?

What if he didn't want… me?

I was seriously freaking out, and getting way too ahead of myself, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm back down. I looked around and saw that Nikolas was making his way over to a rocking chair in the corner with a small knife and a piece of wood in his hand, while Katy wiped off the counter in front of her.

Seeing them both here, in a place obviously well loved and suited to them, brought a dull ache to the middle of my stomach. They really did remind me of my grandparents.

Since my grandparents had died within days of each other when I was six, I had only a handful of memories of them. But the overall feelings of love and tenderness had always been there. I could vaguely recall how much they'd seemed to truly enjoy each other's company. It was a far cry from the grandparents on my dad's side.
They
had been divorced longer than they'd been married, and didn't even like to hear each other's name mentioned.

I fervently hoped that would never happen to me. I wanted a happy ending and a stone cottage in my future. I never wanted to end up hating the one person I had sworn to love until death parted us. I would rather not love anyone at all than have that happen to me.

Thoughts of divorce and unhappily-ever-afters were certainly not adding to the cheerfulness of the afternoon, so I decided to try my hand at small talk. After all, it couldn't get any worse than sitting in a chair depressing myself with my own thoughts. I said the first thing that came to mind. "So, do you guys like the legend?"

Katy and Nikolas both stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

"The legend?" they asked innocently.

"You know," I elaborated, "'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'? Since you guys live here… I just wondered if you liked the legend."

"Yes, we do enjoy the legend." Nikolas spoke before I had a chance to hang my head and apologize for how socially inadequate I obviously was at small talk. I glanced over at him, and he was concentrating on whittling away tiny slivers of wood.

"Because we have lived here all of our lives, it
is
a story that is near and dear to us," agreed Katy, pulling out the chair next to me. She held a tangled pile of multicolored yarn, and I could see two shiny silver knitting needles poking out of the side. "What about you, dear?" she asked. "What do you think of it? You seem to have a strong connection to the Hollow."

"Oh, it's one of my favorites," I said quickly. "I've lived here all my life too, and I think it's great that the town embraces history like it does. My parents are both on the town council, so I go to a lot of the meetings with them, and I get to see firsthand all of the work that goes into preserving Sleepy Hollow."

Katy nodded as she started sorting her yarn piles. "Awareness for the town has certainly grown over the years, but there's always been something special about this place. I don't think anyone could spend time living here and not feel its magic… the pull of living history all around us. We feel a special bond with the cemetery ourselves."

A clicking noise echoed through the room as she picked up her needles and began to knit. I folded my hands in front of me and watched her fingers fly through the motions, looping and pulling, over and over again.

"Have you been to the Sleepy Hollow Museum lately?" I asked, leaning forward slightly, still unsure of what to do with my hands. "The genealogy exhibit has a lot of new stuff in it that's really interesting. I like the-" The teakettle whistled sharply, interrupting my sentence, and I jumped at the unexpected noise. Nikolas got up to grab a dish towel for the hot kettle handle.

"Just a minute, dear." Katy patted my hand before she reached for three identical teacups. "Let me fix the tea, and then you can continue."

Nikolas brought the teakettle over for her, carefully poured the steaming liquid, and then returned the kettle to its iron hook.

Two matching smaller silver serving pots were resting in the middle of the table, and I moved them closer to us. Katy brought a third matching silver pot out from the refrigerator and sat it down next to the other two.

"Milk is in this one, and those two are sugar and honey," she explained, picking up her teacup.

I watched as she poured a small amount of milk and a couple drops of honey into her tea, and then thanked Nikolas when he placed three spoons on the table. Nikolas made his tea the same way, except he used a bit more honey. Katy smiled in mock disapproval at him, and he grinned like a little boy who was grabbing a second piece of chocolate cake.

My cup was next. Usually I made my tea like I used to make my coffee. Three milks and two sugars. But today I tried the honey. I added a couple of extra drops, like Nikolas, figuring the sweeter, the better. While I was briskly stirring my spoon in my cup, Katy settled back into her seat and Nikolas returned to his rocking chair.

I took a cautious sip.

It was surprisingly good. The mint taste was clear and strong, much better than a generic peppermint tea bag, and the honey added just the right amount of flavor, giving it an edge. I took another sip. Larger this time. I could really grow to like this stuff.

We sat there in silence, and it almost felt as if I'd known Katy and Nikolas my whole life and had spent every day having tea with them. But then I started to feel like I had to make up for lost time, and that scared me a little.
These are not your grandparents,
I sternly reminded myself. Although they seemed like they were very nice people, they probably had their own grandchildren who really did come to visit them for tea. I was only a stranger passing through.

"Go ahead and finish what you were saying, dear," urged Katy with a warm smile, and I forced myself to shake off the melancholy.