As the caravan pulled up to the house, Claire enjoyed watching Amy’s eyes widen. The massive iron gates were opened before them, left by some curious host. The day had gone from balmy with misty sun to cloudy, the lawn stained with shadows. A chill had settled in the evening and the house looked huge and forbidding with the sun setting behind it. A few lights glowed in the second story where Charles had said the architect was staying for a few weeks.
As Noel guided their car in behind Amy’s, Claire checked the rear-view mirror again. Amy and Claire had been in the first car, Noel in the second, and Ben driving his truck bringing up the rear. Noel had stopped on the way to pick up dinner because she was pretty sure she was the only one who could find her way to the house alone. Claire was surprised when she pulled in just after them.
“You all drive so slow!” Noel said, grinning. She held up bags of cheeseburgers and led the way up the front steps. Amy followed, helping Noel by carrying the drinks.
Amy stopped at the door and turned around, her dark curls blowing, and Claire could see that her rounded cheeks were not their usual rosy tone. Her warm brown eyes looked worried. "This is it?" she asked cautiously.
Claire followed her and dug in her purse for the key Charles had given them.
“Ta da. The grand opening. Welcome to ‘Talitha,’ the charm of the bluegrass,” Noel said, dancing up beside them.
Claire felt a subtle hesitation. Her eyes went to the tall pines behind the stoned wall, the hedges framing the weedy lawn, and the fountain, the horses straining as though trying to flee.
“Claire, are you going to open that door or do we have to go through the window?” Ben groused, jolting her from her negative thoughts, and nodding toward his hands full of suitcases and bags.
Claire shoved the key in the lock and quickly twisted it in the lock. The knob seemed to vibrate under her hands as she turned it. She didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until the door swung open and the draft of cold air made her gasp.
No one else seemed aware of her discomfort, and they hurriedly pushed into the house leaving her alone on the porch. She had to deliberately force her feet to move, to step over the threshold.
The entry looked as before, the marble floor dusty with boot prints and the walls appearing to molt with crumbling wallpaper. Without the morning sun, the room was cold and the shadows deeper. Amy shivered next to Claire.
“Creepy,” she muttered under her breath. Catching Claire watching her, she smiled apologetically. Claire was tempted to agree but held her tongue.
Ben broke the silence when he asked where he should drop the suitcases. “I don’t know what you packed in here, but it sure doesn’t feel like clothes,” he complained, rolling his shoulders and wincing.
“Just put them here. While we can still see, we’ll get the important stuff in the house, so we can just carry it all up the stairs later.” Claire switched on a few lights, her hands now steady.
As Noel showed Amy where to take the drinks and food bags, Claire and Ben headed back out to the cars to unload. They knew they had to take advantage of the daylight while it lasted, and Claire dreaded the dark. She certainly didn’t want to be outside, standing beneath the sharp hooves of the frozen horses, as the sun set. It was obvious the days were getting shorter, and the shadows were stretching over the lawn as they started to haul in the heavier items.
Almost an hour later, all the boxes and furniture had been carried up and dumped into the hallway. During the commotion, a thin figure emerged from the stairway to the second story.
“You must be the new roommates,” the man greeted them cheerfully, approaching with hand outstretched.
“That’s us,” Noel replied, coming up behind Claire and dropping her load. “And you are?”
Claire was surprised at the edge in Noel’s voice and realized her friend had been startled by his appearance.
“Sorry, John. John Fisk. I’m the architect for the renovation." He withdrew his hand when he saw theirs were full and smoothed his dark hair back in an unconscious gesture.
“Sure,” Noel said, visibly relaxing. “Sorry, I was just a little jumpy.”
“It’s fine. I understand. We’re working on the lighting in this place. It leaves a lot to be desired just yet.” John’s merry smile had reappeared.
“I didn’t know architects lived where they worked,” Amy interrupted, looking puzzled.
"I’ve been staying here for a couple of weeks, working on the final schematics.” John shrugged. “It was my choice to stay here. It just seemed easier to oversee everything. The commute would have been a bitch.” His smile came again, bright white in a tanned face. “Charles told me you were moving in soon. Do you need any extra help?”
Claire sighed in relief as she looked at John’s open face. Charles had said they might have others living there with them, but she hadn't realized how much she had hoped for that until she had seen him there in the hall. John willingly helped carry up some of the remaining boxes, talking quickly all the while, easily lifting the boxes and loping up the stairs with practiced ease. On his way up, he briefly explained that he planned on staying for a few weeks to oversee some of the work and complete some recent drawings.
“Which rooms are you in?” Noel asked as they dropped their load in the hallway.
“Charles said he was in the old master bedroom,” Claire reminded her.
John nodded his head back towards the central staircase. “I picked some rooms in the older section because they interested me. Here, I’ll show you around.” He made a sweeping gesture encompassing the wide hallway. “I wanted to be in the center of things, easier to keep track of the action.”
“We went through a few of those when we first came here for the interview.” Claire looked back down the shadowy hall. “They are very, um, formal.”
“The carving and woodwork is definitely older, a little grim. But I like that the windows overlook the driveway. I can see when the workers get here, and if anyone else comes by, I can check them out before I go down.”
It sounded like a good plan to Claire, especially if John had been living there alone. He would be able to keep track of anyone in the house as long as they came in the front door. And if they came in another door? She wondered how many entrances the house had. The house had the feel of such expansiveness, of hallways and rooms stretching out into the darkness.
“I like to know who’s coming in and who’s going out.” John said, echoing her thoughts. “This place gets damn spooky at night.” He suddenly looked embarrassed. “I really shouldn’t have said that. It’s not so bad once you get used to it, and I’ll be here for a while if you need anything.” He smiled a little weakly now, and Noel grinned back, clearly taking his statement as more of a challenge than an offer of protection.
“I ain’t scared,” she said playfully, leading the way into his grandiose chamber.
His room was amazing in itself. It was one of the few they hadn’t toured the first time they had visited, and this one was fully outfitted for its occupant. The walls had been painted a stark white leaving the eye to focus on the elaborate carving of the fireplace, the huge canopied bed, and a built-in bookcase. The wood had a rich sheen and matched the waxed floor; although, John explained, the carvings had required only minimal touch ups.
The bed was the focus of the room with the wooden canopy hanging empty and a plain navy comforter on the mattress. Each post of the canopy was carved to resemble a forest animal including bears, wolves, and other fanged creatures. Pushed against the opposite wall was a huge library table covered with papers and an elaborate computer system. John smiled sheepishly as he explained the fax machine, scanner, plotter, and computer he used on all his various projects.
“I don’t have a local office, so when I’m here I use this equipment. It all belongs to Edwards Incorporated.” When he received confused looks he elaborated. “Mr. Edwards, the man that owns the building. He will be staying here sometimes but has business all over the
country. Our firm has done a lot of work for him, office buildings, other jobs like that.”
“What kind of business is he in?” Claire asked curiously.
“His main interests are in publications, but the company has diversified into other areas,” John responded. He closed the door behind them and they descended the stairs. “I haven’t worked personally with Cole Edwards that much. Once we got the job, he stepped back, and we’ve been consulting with his assistant and the other construction people in the company.” He paused and began walking down the stairs, his hands lightly tracing the polished wood of the railing. “This is the first job Mr. Edwards has shown much interest in personally. That is, as far as I know, and I can’t say I know a lot about his company. But rumor is...” John paused and gave them a sly, conspiratorial smile, “this place is his ancestral home. I don’t know if he personally ever lived here, but apparently it’s been in the family for years.”
“So, did his family build this house?” Noel asked.
“No, at least not all of it. From what I understand, the main part of the house was built in the 1850s and lived in for a couple years." John appeared to be warming toward his subject, like a teacher lecturing on his favorite subject du jour. "At that time, Versailles and Lexington were bustling, and Louisville was one of the largest and wealthiest towns around. Louisville was going strong, linked with the rest of the country with the railroad going across land, and the steamboats traveling the Ohio River. Then the war broke out, and even though Kentucky tried to remain neutral, Louisville became a popular place for Union soldiers to gather and prepare for the fight. It was around that time the family abandoned the house, and with all the upheaval, we’re not sure who might have stayed here, especially during those years when the soldiers were scrambling. Anyone could have broken in to camp out.” He shrugged. “After the war was over, the place was vacant for a while. The Edwards family bought the place from the state for a steal. They later decided to add on the wings." He paused to glance at his audience. "That’s why the place looks like it was put together without planning. It was designed by two different groups of people with very different taste in architecture and during different historic periods.”
“And not all taste is good,” Amy said dryly. Claire nodded her agreement, and looked back up the stairs nervously.
“And I’m boring you,” John said, slightly embarrassed. “I’ll tell you the rest of the sordid history of this place some other time.”
Once in the kitchen, they all sat together, huddled over the chef grade kitchen counter, warming up their dinner. Noel had bought extra food, and John joined them in the harsh artificial light. Claire found him to be outgoing and engaging with a wicked since of humor. He told them several amusing stories about some of his other clients as well as his experience as a student in the College of Architecture at the University of Kentucky where the students ranged from brilliant to eccentric. She listened with halfhearted attention while he spoke, her mind on the silent dark spaces outside the window and just around the corner. But John seemed to know an awful lot about the history of the area. He also seemed to be content to work on the renovation because of his personal interest in historic preservation. Much of the structure of the house, he explained, had been sound, and they had tried their best to maintain the integrity of the original floor plan. Adding bathrooms and improving the kitchen had been the biggest jobs since serious changes in room sizes were required.
“The renovation is going to make this place a showcase,” John stated enthusiastically. “It has been kept in good enough condition that we can keep most of the original finishes. It’s just a matter of cleaning up what we have and finding replacements for what has been ruined by sitting here empty for so long.”
“Why has it been empty?” Noel asked, delicately dipping a limp French fry in ketchup.
“Some bad history about this place,” John said dismissively. “The Edwards family had a hard time while they lived here and apparently had enough money socked away they could literally walk away from the place. It’s not exactly on a well-worn route, so the structure was mostly forgotten by the locals, except, of course vandals and the occasional teenager looking for a thrill. No one cared, and after a few more years, some family representative hired a caretaker to make sure it wasn’t being completely destroyed. No squatters or druggies since then; it’s just been empty.”
“And now they have come back?” Noel’s eyebrows winged up, and a half smile curved her lips.
“Not they. Just Cole Edwards. I think he is the last of the family.” John quickly wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and crumpled it into a tight ball in his fist. “He came to our office and said he wanted to turn this place into something worthwhile. And frankly, we jumped at it. Ours isn’t a big firm and this place is going to be a magnet for the rich and very rich, close enough for the horse crowd, but big enough to have special events, weddings, meetings, reunions.” His voice has gotten more intense, his eyes glittering. “When we get done with it, this house is going to look as good as it ever did, better even. And it will take our reputation to new heights.”
For some reason, his passion made Claire feel better about the house. In his eyes, she could see the halls crowded with wealthy people, a bridal party posing on the curved stairs, the busy shuffling of expensive soles on the marble floors.
“It sounds like a great job,” Noel agreed. “You get to take something that looks like it’s falling down and bring it back to life.”
“It’s just getting better, too,” John agreed, a grin of satisfaction lighting his face. “The more people I see around here working on restoring this place, the happier I am.”
When dinner was finished, they all pitched in and cleaned up the trash, gathering it into a takeout bag to drop in one of the huge trash cans around the side of the building. Darkness had settled on the house. Looking out the windows, Claire noticed that the blackness was complete with no stars or moon evident. The air seemed still and heavy around them, although the chill of the night was settling in her bones.
“We’d better get your things set up,” Ben said, returning through the front door after getting rid of the trash. “It gets dark out here in the country.”
The group returned upstairs to set up the beds, hurrying through their preparations. Tomorrow was a workday, and they knew the sun would rise soon enough.
John switched on the lights that lined the hallway, but the sconces, which had almost certainly been chosen due to their resemblance to the original fixtures, were still insufficient. Amy seemed especially nervous, and Claire noticed her glancing out the bedroom door over and over, as though watching for someone she expected to arrive. The boxes had blocked the top of the stairs, and it took time to lift them, one at a time, into the girls’ chosen rooms. Both Noel and Claire had picked rooms at the anterior of the house and in the left wing. The bedrooms were mirror images of each other with tall ceilings and freshly papered walls. They were much airier and light compared to the gothic look of John’s room, and in Claire’s opinion, a million times better.
Noel’s room was closer to the stairway and boasted a built-in wardrobe which reached the ceiling and opened wide enough to fit three full grown people. The wood was carved like the rest in the house, with ornate curves that blended into long stemmed lilies and slender foliage. On the opposite wall was a raised platform meant for one of the antique beds stored in the attic. Noel had stubbornly insisted on bringing her futon, so that no bed was necessary for her room. Behind the platform at the head of the bed was a carved panel of whimsical figures with cherubs and flowers entangled in a dance. Kindly birds with wings outstretched looked down from the top of the panel.
To the left of the bed were double doors that opened onto a narrow balcony, one of the painstaking renovation for each room in the wings the owner had insisted on. This balcony was connected to an identical balcony outside Claire’s room. Heavy brocade drapes shut out the dark night, and an Oriental rug covered the gle
aming wooden floors. The only other furnishings from the house were a heavy armchair newly covered in a plain blue fabric with a matching footstool situated in front of the fireplace.
Claire’s room was very similar, differing only in decorations and furnishings. Claire’s platform held one of the antique bed frames, newly refurbished, and they only had to struggle to get her mattress in place. It didn’t fit exactly because of the bed frame’s dimensions, but it suited well enough. She wished then she had taken up on Charles offer to use one of the new mattresses they had acquired for the finished hotel. He had bragged about the top of the line amenities, and no doubt it would have been more comfortable than the mattress she had dragged from home to the apartment, and then transferred it here. The bed frame was obviously built for the room because the ornate carvings on the headboard and footboard matched those on the panel behind the bed. Flowers were again the subject but wound in the looping of their stems and leaves were tiny fairies peering from behind the foliage with pointed ears and lacy wings. Again, birds were a common subject with plump doves dotting the delicate trees.
Claire’s wardrobe was similarly carved with flowers and reached the ceiling with only inches to spare. The doors to the balcony were covered with matching drapes and a stuffed chair with rose fabric was situated in front of the cold fireplace. The walls were papered with huge primroses, pink and raspberry, their leaves dark green with heavy stems. Overall, both rooms were large and comfortable, much nicer than any apartment they could have afforded.
Exhausted, Noel and Claire stood in the doorway after they had watched their friends leave. They were relieved to be moved in, but the house seemed cavernous when empty. John had retired to his room a half hour earlier, stating that he had to make some calls before it grew too late, but the sheer size of the house made it feel as though they were alone and far from the rest of the world.
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