Whisper Falls (16 page)

“No doubt.”

I tramped down the steps and into the lane, calling Dorcas and Delilah to come with me.

The tutor had four students. From the window, we could see the boys bent over their papers, quills scratching. I circled to the rear of the property and knocked on the kitchen's door. The tutor's wife scowled as she took Jedidiah's pail.

The girls scampered ahead of me, down the dusty lane winding past the half-dozen buildings at the center of town. When they came to the place where the lane forked, they stopped.

“How long does it take to get to your mother's property?” Dorcas said, pointing down the road heading east from town.

“If you stay on the Raleigh Road for a twenty minute walk, you will come to my mother's farm.” “Who else lives with them?”

“No one.”

“What do they grow?”

“They have a small garden, a horse, a cow, and chickens. The rest of the land is rented by another farmer.” I shooed the girls forward. “It's nearly time for our meal, little ones.”

“Shall we visit Papa first?” Dorcas asked.

Not waiting for my reply, the sisters ran through the narrow stand of trees hiding the mill from the rest of town. I followed at a distance.

When I arrived, I stuck my head in the door of the mill. It was quiet—an empty kind of quiet. Both millstones, the old one for grinding corn and the new one for grinding wheat, were extraordinarily clean. There had been no business here today.

The girls rushed past me, peeking around corners and down the stairs. As the emptiness penetrated their enthusiasm, their giddiness faded.

“He's not here.” Dorcas huffed a mournful sigh. Delilah mourned, too.

“Perhaps he's running an errand.”

“We can play hide and seek while we wait.”

I shook my head vigorously. “This is a poor place to play a game.”

Dorcas cupped a hand around her mouth and whispered in her little sister's ear. Both girls giggled as they darted through the door we had just entered.

“Girls, come back.”

Their laughter ended abruptly.

I stood in the threshold, scanning the mill yard. “Girls, I am not amused. Come at once.”

Silence greeted my calls.

Irritation didn't improve my seeking skills. I took a calming breath as I circled around the yard carefully, glancing behind the obvious hiding places. They weren't here. Had they run to the back?

I walked around to the opposite side of the mill and stood, hands on hips, surveying the area. Where might two little girls be?

Could they have reached the forest so quickly? I didn't think it likely.

That left the millpond and Rocky Creek. Tension showered over me like a cold rain. Did their silence have a more ominous source?

They could be hiding near the wall beside the sluice. I never approached it willingly, so strong was my fear of the water roaring down its chute. But if the girls had strayed too close, I had to check. Nerves prickled along my arms as I took hesitant steps nearer.

Something thumped near the sluice. I crept closer, gripped the wall, and peered behind.

My master glanced up with surprise. “Susanna?”

“Sir.” I bobbed my head.

He picked up a shovel, stamped a bald spot of earth with his boot, and walked around the wall. “Have you come to visit with me?”

It was such an absurd question, I would've laughed if fear had not had me in its grasp.

“No, sir. We took Jedidiah's pail to the tutor's house. Dorcas and Delilah insisted we visit here on the return journey.”

“Where are they?”

I had to choose an answer carefully. If he knew they hid from me, they would be punished and so would I. Even now, I could only hope they were wise enough to remain out of sight.

“They are hungry and have run ahead.”

“Why are you not with them? And why have you come near the water?”

“I am not so very close to it.” I clamped my lips shut.

He studied my face at length, until the scrutiny made me uncomfortable. “You haven't lost your fear of the water, have you? Not in all the years since your father passed.”

“I am fine.” I dropped my gaze to the ground, thinking hard. Were the girls safe? Did I risk their lives to avoid a few lashes of the switch?

No, truly, Dorcas was too clever. She must be hidden nearby, muffling Delilah's giggles, watching me and her father. I wished to spare her punishment for her disobedience.

But what if I was wrong?

My master moved closer to me and grasped my chin in his hard fingers, forcing me to look at him. “Do you often allow Delilah and Dorcas to run about Worthville without you?”

My mouth went dry as my mind sought a plausible reason. “They are nearby. I thought to catch my breath in the shade before following them home.”

The intense stare continued, but his fingers released me. I gave a perfunctory curtsy and turned to leave.

“Susanna?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I want you to stay.”

I hesitated. “Right now?”

“In October. I'm accustomed to you. Don't leave at the end of your indenture.”

Not leave? Was he mad? I shook my head, too stunned to respond.

“We'll pay you a fair wage once your contract ends.”

I shuddered. Could he not discern how deeply I longed to flee his house?

“I must decline your offer. I shall leave on my birthday as planned.”

“You won't find a better position.”

I bit back a laugh at his foolish claim. Despite being nephew to our town's magistrate, no sane villager or farmer in the area would apprentice their children to the Pratts. A
worse
job was not possible.

“I do not worry about my chances.”

A brooding darkness settled over his features. “Is that so?”

His expression made me nervous. Backing away from him, I said loud enough for two little listening girls to hear, “I am heading to the house.”

“Your plan to move to Raleigh is sheer madness. No one will want a girl of your age with no references.”

Was he right? I didn't think so, but I couldn't be sure. “It is a risk I am willing to take.”

“You won't find a welcome at your mother's home, either.”

I frowned. “How can you know such a thing?”

“Mr. Shaw will marry your mother this fall. Once he moves into her farmhouse, there will be no room for you or Phoebe.”

“When did he tell you this?”

“Yesterday after church. Your mother has convinced him that Phoebe shouldn't tend children. He will bind Phoebe out.” Mr. Pratt smiled—a mean smile, like a snake about to strike at its prey. “If Susanna Marsh must leave our house, perhaps Phoebe Marsh will take her place.”

A shrieking giggle pierced the air. Delilah erupted from the shadows behind the wood pile and ran toward us. “Papa, I should like for Phoebe to live at our house.” She stopped at his side and looked up, beaming. “I was hiding from Susanna.”

Dorcas plodded into the sunshine, her face flushed crimson. With wide, panicked eyes, she stared at me. There was no way to comfort her.

“You hid, did you, Delilah?” His fingers tousled her curls while his furious glare latched onto Dorcas. “I suppose you proposed the game to your little sister.”

Dorcas nodded slowly, her lower lip trembling.

“After supper, you will await me behind the kitchen for your punishment.”

Delilah looked from her father to her sister, let out a wail, and rushed to me, slamming into my legs, rubbing her face against my petticoat. I patted her shoulder absently. Her cries couldn't change the outcome that her ill-timed words had started, but it did hurt me that she recognized what lay ahead.

“And you, Susanna,” my master said, in a conversational tone, “do you often lie about the disobedience of my children?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You, too, may join me after supper.” He smiled tightly. “Perhaps you should deliver Dorcas's punishment.”

“I shall not.” I lifted my chin, firmness in my response. He could threaten to beat me unconscious, but I wouldn't thrash Dorcas.

“Very well. It will be enough to have you watch.”

Between mowing yards and training, there hadn't been time to hunt for the names of the Pratt children, especially since I didn't know where to start. But I wouldn't go to the falls empty-handed. Susanna was getting protein bars.

The Whole Foods store was crazy on Monday, as if everyone on this side of Raleigh had stopped in for heat-and-serve vegan meals. I walked past the deli and headed to the section devoted to energy bars. I liked to keep a stash on hand for those times when my parents forgot to get food I liked while grocery shopping. After today, Susanna would have a stash, too.

It was hard to know what she would like. Not peanut butter or chocolate. They might be too intense. Fruit might be good. Strawberry, apricot, or fig?

I got all three. She could toss them if she didn't like them.

After checking out, I walked out to the bike rack and stowed the stuff in my pack. As I was preparing to unlock the bike, I noticed a SALE sign on my mom's favorite store, Meredith Ridge Books.

A bookstore—where people bought novels.

The devil's missives
.

Oh, yeah. Tonight, Susanna would have food
and
fiction.

It took about a millisecond for me to become obsessed with picking the perfect novel. I headed into the bookstore. The sci-fi section I could rule out. But what about the YA bestseller section?

I skimmed the titles, hoping for inspiration. It was a bust. Susanna wasn't likely to appreciate demons, cheerleaders, or zombies.

“May I help you?”

A clerk hovered at the end of aisle, which was convenient, for a change.

“Sure. I'm looking for a gift.”

“For whom?”

“A girl.”

“What age?”

“She's seventeen.”

“Do you know what she likes?”

Here was the tricky part. I didn't, because Susanna didn't, either.

“She's been living in this strange outpost kind of place, where there aren't libraries. So she's probably open to almost anything.”

“Fantasy? Dystopian?”

Okay, not specific enough. “I'm thinking late eighteenth-century novels. Maybe 1790s to 1810s.”

“Ah, I see.
That
open.” She wove her way to the back of the store and stopped. “Jane Austen? We have new copies, plus a few antique volumes.”

I felt like smacking my head. “Perfect. Thanks.” I waited to survey my options until the woman wandered away.

The bookcase had six shelves, one for each Austen title. There were dozens of copies of each book, organized from newest to most beat-up.

I read the blurbs.
Persuasion
won. Ships won out over creepy castles and afternoon teas every time.

So, new or beat-up? I picked up the oldest copy. Would this one feel the least strange to her? It had a torn-up leather binding. I checked the price and coughed. It wasn't cheap.

I carried my selection to the counter and slapped it down. The clerk smiled her approval.

After my afternoon training ride and cleanup routine, I went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Mom walked in from the garage. Or maybe I should say, trudged in. Her face looked as gray as her scrubs. I now recognized the look. Someone at the hospice center had died. Someone she really cared about.

“Bad day, Mom?”

“Yes.”

I caught her in a hug as she tried to walk by. “Want to talk about it?” I said into her hair.

“Uh-uh.” She kissed my cheek and leaned back. “Did you just shave?”

“Yes.” I sampled the results of my sandwich-fixing skills, which were exceptional.

She dropped her purse on the island and leaned a hip against the counter. “You're also wearing jeans.”

I nodded. It was true.

“So, you're not training tonight?”

“Already done.”

“Are you dating someone?”

“No. Will Dad be home soon?”

“In about an hour.”

That was good. She wouldn't be home alone this evening.

I opened the fridge and snagged a bottle of water. Before I could close the door, she caught it and picked up the mayo and the roast beef from the counter. Really, she shouldn't do that. It wasn't responsible parenting to straighten my mess. Not that I was complaining, or anything.

“Are you hanging out with Carlton?”

“He's still with his dad.”

“Oh, right. Then where do you go every evening?”

Concentrate on the sandwich and don't meet her eyes
. “The greenway.”

“I'm your mother. I've watched you lie for seventeen years. I know when you're avoiding the truth.”

I gave her my best innocent puppy look. “I sit by the creek.”

“Why?”

“To think. Or not think.”

She snorted. “What are you not thinking about?”

Here, at least, was a safe topic. I didn't think about a lot of things. “Mostly Alexis.”

“I thought you were over her.”

“I am. Which is why I'm not thinking about her.”

“Ah.” She looked at her watch. “The greenway officially closes at dusk.”

“Which is why this interruption is a problem for me.”

She rolled her eyes and disappeared up the back stairs.

I slipped from the rear of the house, pushed through our gate, and emerged on the greenway. I was rarely out this early, so the number of people around at this hour surprised me a little. Couples pushed strollers. Joggers raced by, headphones on, oblivious to the rest of us. I strolled along the pavement with the Jane Austen book and tried to act like I didn't know how it found its way into my hand.

When I reached Whisper Falls, Susanna wasn't waiting on the other side. She had to come. I wanted to give her a real gift tonight.