Whispers (Argent Springs)

by Cindy Stark

  Several quiet minutes passed as Erin studied the selection of stones and jewelry Livia kept on her counter. Most were priced under ten dollars, and Erin realized Livia had placed them there in the hopes that people might snag another item or two before they left her shop.

  The chimes on the front door rang, and Erin looked up, ready to greet Livia’s next customer. Her words died on her tongue.

  Chapter Six

  Glancing around the room as though looking for resistance, the dirty, unkempt man Erin had seen earlier approached the counter.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “You’re new here.” He said it without question.

  “I’m covering for Livia for a few minutes. She’s in the back room.” Hopefully knowing there were others nearby would keep him from doing anything stupid.

  He glanced toward the back room and then focused on her again. “What’s your name?”

  “Erin.”

  “You related to Livia?”

  “I’m Annabelle’s niece.”

  A smile cracked his lips showing dirty teeth. “You’ve come to visit Rosa.”

  Awkwardness slithered over her. “I’ve come to visit my Aunt Annabelle for a couple of weeks.”

  He pointed at her and laughed, his voice gravelly and a bit unbalanced. “You’ve come to see Rosa and find love,” he said louder than the first time.

  Erin glanced toward the back room, wishing Livia would hear the commotion through the closed door and come to her aid. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve only come to stay a couple of weeks, and then I’m headed back home.”

  “Ask Annabelle. She’ll tell you about Rosa.”

  The man was unhinged, and no one was coming to her aid. She’d have to handle the matter by herself. “Look, mister. I’m trying to run a store here. If you’re not looking to buy anything, then you should probably be on your way, or I’ll have to call the police.”

  He widened his eyes as though she’d completely insulted him, and then an injured expression crossed his features. “I’m not hurting nothing.”

  Guilt stabbed at her. He obviously struggled with some mental issues and probably didn’t realize he was harassing her. “Look, I don’t want to get you in trouble, so if you leave now, we’ll both be happier.”

  She swallowed and met his gaze with a straightforward one of her own. He held it for a moment and then dropped his shoulders. He turned and walked out the door, leaving the stench of an unwashed body and stale cigarettes in his wake.

  She sagged with relief when the store was once again vacant.

  Erin was beyond tempted to interrupt Livia and her aunt in case the crazy man came back, but really, there had been no harm done.

  A good thirty minutes passed before the two women returned from the back room. Livia approached the counter, and Erin vacated her spot. “How did things go?”

  “Fine.” Erin paused. “Except you did have one customer who was a bit odd. I guess he wasn’t actually a customer. A guy, mid-forties, maybe. Dirty hair. Missing some teeth?” she ended with a question.

  “That’s George. He’s harmless,” Annabelle said.

  “Town drunk,” Livia added. “I usually give him a coke or candy bar.”

  Now, she felt guilty. He’d probably just been hungry and wanted something to eat. “I asked him to leave.”

  Livia gave her a warm smile. “Don’t worry about it. George harasses enough people that if you gave him a bit of grief in return, it’s all good.”

  “Are you sure? I think I hurt his feelings.”

  Annabelle put a reassuring arm around her shoulder. “You couldn’t have known who he was, love. He’ll be fine. He’ll probably come back in an hour or so, and Livia can soothe his ruffled feathers then.”

  Livia nodded in agreement. “How about I take you to lunch before you leave town, Erin? Payment for watching the store for me?”

  Erin looked to her great aunt, sure that she’d coerced the invitation out of her. Probably as part of the ploy to get Erin to hang out with people her age. But honestly, that wasn’t why she’d come to Argent Springs. “Sure. I’d love to. Maybe I can convince Aunt Annabelle to come, too.”

  “It depends on the day.” Annabelle smiled. “I do have some previous engagements.”

  Erin raised her brows. She hadn’t considered that her aunt may have other things to do than entertain her. The more she learned about her aunt, the more she realized, despite her age, she didn’t sit around growing old.

  * * *

  When they returned to the house, her aunt excused herself to take her daily nap, leaving Erin alone. It took her no time at all to snag her camera and head back outside.

  This time when she walked the streets of Argent Springs, she had an eye for angles and lighting. Aunt Annabelle’s whore-house turned bed and breakfast looked completely charming even though it needed to have the trim painted. She walked farther down the road and then captured the quaint blue house with white gingerbread trim. Then the old church that, if shot at a particular angle, looked more like damnation looming overhead than a place for salvation.

  After shooting the most interesting buildings in town, she glanced at her watch, surprised to find the time was close to four o’clock. Since the Finchers had only been staying one night, dinner would be less of an event tonight with just the three of them. She and her aunt had planned on having spaghetti, which meant she had at least an hour to explore before she needed to be back to help prepare the simple meal.

  She eyed the soft meadow extending beyond Annabelle’s house, spreading out until it reached the edge of the mountains. The distance was perhaps three or four city blocks, nothing she couldn’t cover in a short amount of time. And with the sun sitting at its current angle, she could make the most of the shadows and less harsh lighting. It would be perfect.

  She set off on a jaunt across the meadow, following a well-worn path. Rocks, big and small forced her to keep her attention on the trail, but she didn’t mind. Sun rained down on her, and a soft breeze smelling of the earth kept her company. God, this was good for her soul.

  As she drew farther away from civilization, such as it was, she realized squirrels…at least she thought they were squirrels…had made a home in the tall grasses swaying in the breeze and tumbling onto the edges of the path.

  The first time one scurried in front of her as though on a suicide mission, she’d startled so badly she’d almost tripped in her haste to stop. Then the critter was gone again, scurrying through the grass, probably chattering about its near-death experience.

  Now that she knew the little animal was harmless, she realized she’d enjoyed her run-in with nature. Encountering a crazy-ass squirrel was much more preferable than listening to her neighbor back home drone on about how his wife had left him with nothing but the bills. She couldn’t say she blamed the woman. Shacking up with a loser who spent the majority of his life drunk was no way to live.

  It didn’t take Erin too long to come upon the lazy, winding river she’d first spotted as she’d descended into town. The narrow river now ran between her and the mountainside, drifting past much the way the whole town operated, slow and easy, as if it were intent on noticing each rock it crested and each hollow it dipped into.

  She stopped at the edge of the shallow river. Someone had taken two two-by-fours and laid slats across them, using four-by-fours to support them at varying intervals. Together, the pieces of wood formed a tenuous bridge. Erin eyed the structure until a movement in the water caught her eye.

  A fish. And not a small one, either.

  She watched it for a moment as it wiggled its body, moving with the current. The colors of the fish, the smooth way it bent back and forth, all of it was a beautiful exposition of nature displayed right before her eyes.

  She pulled out her camera, knowing she wouldn’t capture a quality picture between the movement of the fish and the movement of the water, but she wanted to take it anyway. She snapped a
few shots, then swiveled and captured the makeshift bridge.

  Moments in time. Moments she’d never have again.

  Even if she came back to visit Aunt Annabelle time and time again, she’d never have the pleasure of discovering this makeshift bridge out in the middle of nowhere for the first time.

  Strong emotions caught her unaware as she realized if she’d skipped out on the family party like she’d wanted to, she’d never have met Annabelle, which eventually brought her to this quiet little town that carried the strength of mother nature on its back. She never would have known this beauty.

  She inhaled a deep breath and straightened.

  If she wanted to go further, she’d have to chance the bridge. Really, that was so much like life. If a person wanted the rewards, she’d have to step out of her comfort zone and take a chance.

  Besides, if the bridge crumbled, she’d end up with wet pants and an uncomfortable walk home. Not that big of a deal. Once weighed and measured, that was a reasonable consequence.

  She placed her booted foot on the board and kicked it. It didn’t budge. “Here goes nothing.”

  She put her full weight on the first board, and when nothing happened, she stepped forward. Several more steps, and she was close to halfway across the bridge. When a board creaked beneath her foot, she squealed and dashed the rest of the way.

  A laugh full of happiness escaped her when she reached the other side. She’d made it without incident, and now nothing stood between her and the thick line of trees. As she reached the edge of them, she glanced upward, capturing the tall, stately pines from different angles. In one picture, she framed the edges with a close-up evergreen limb and captured the yellows of a grove of aspens beyond.

  A sudden crunch of leaves caused her to freeze in her tracks as goose bumps exploded on her arms. She swallowed and turned slowly to look behind her, hoping it wouldn’t be the crazed man she’d met earlier, let alone anything worse. Not much separated the civilized part of town from the wild that surrounded it.

  At first, she couldn’t see anything beyond branches and leaves. Then she caught a slight movement in her peripheral vision. She twisted farther and spotted a light brown deer camouflaged by the bark of a tree. It stared at her with serious brown eyes, waiting for her to make a move or leave.

  Her pent-up breath eased out of her.

  She slowly lifted her camera, hoping her movements wouldn’t scare it off. She captured a couple of photos right off the bat, and then took the time to zoom in on her subject.

  It stayed completely still as she took what she needed from the scene. Then she slowly swiveled back toward the way she’d come and used quiet footsteps to leave the area. She’d invaded the deer’s home, and she didn’t want to make a nuisance of herself.

  By the time she’d exited the grove of trees, the sun had fallen behind the tall mountains. She hadn’t realized how dark it had grown because she’d been surrounded by trees which made everything darker anyway. She hurried toward the river. With each minute that ticked past, the midnight hues in the sky deepened like an exposed piece of old-fashioned photo paper dipped in processing chemicals, making it harder to see the path ahead of her. All of the squirrels were probably home tucked in their little grass beds.

  She was sure Annabelle would have started dinner without her, and that wasn’t a great way to show respect or appreciation for her aunt’s kind invitation.

  When she reached the edge of the river, the clear water had turned to ink, and it didn’t seem the friendly wanderer like it had before. She shored up her fears and stepped onto the bridge, quickly putting one foot in front of the other. She didn’t flinch this time when she reached the loose slat, but kept a steady pace instead.

  As she reached the opposite shore, she pulled out her cell phone and turned on the assistive light, using it to illuminate the path ahead of her. If she would have been smarter, she would have programmed Annabelle’s number into her phone so that she could call her if necessary. Too late for that now.

  She held tight to her camera as she jogged along the rocky dirt toward home.

  An oncoming flashlight beam came into view when she was halfway across the meadow. She wanted to shut hers off, to hide her from view, once again afraid it might be someone like that crazy guy she’d met earlier in the day, but she couldn’t afford to go without light.

  As the flashlight grew closer, someone shouted out her name. A sick feeling dropped into her stomach. Rick.

  “Yes,” she called back.

  The light stopped racing toward her at a fast pace, and she realized he’d stopped and was waiting for her. In her mind that was a pretty good guarantee that he wasn’t particularly thrilled that he’d had to fetch her.

  When she reached him, he faced back toward the house and started walking without saying a word.

  “You didn’t need to come looking for me.”

  He stopped so abruptly that she nearly plowed into him. “Really?”

  “As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “Your aunt’s not fine. She’s been fretting for the past hour, worried about where you’d gone. If I hadn’t seen you heading across the meadow earlier, I wouldn’t have had any idea where to look.”

  A shiver raced across her knowing he’d been watching her. Had he seen her jump when the squirrel had frightened her? The river had been too far away for him to have seen her study it and then race across. “You don’t need worry about me. I’m a grown woman who’s been taking care of herself for a long time.” She’d headed for college straight out of high school and hadn’t looked back.

  “When was the last time you spent the night in the mountains?” His question came out hard, angry.

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Woman, there’s been more than one person who hasn’t made it out of these hills alive. The nights are getting colder than you think, and if that doesn’t scare you, then maybe coming face-to-face with a bear or mountain lion might.”

  She widened her eyes, surprised by the amount of anger in his voice. “I’m not your problem.”

  “In case you haven’t realized, I care a great deal about your aunt, and I don’t like to see her worried or unhappy. It’s not good for her heart.” He rounded on his heels and started walking.

  She hurried to catch up, her shorter legs needing to go much faster than his in order to cover the same distance. “What do you mean, her heart?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She started to sprint and latched on to his arm to slow him down. “You can’t say something like that and not answer.”

  He stopped again, and this time she did collide with him, enough so that she’d have fallen if he wouldn’t have caught her. “Tell me what’s wrong with her, Rick.”

  “She made me promise not to mention it.”

  “It’s too late,” she said, her voice breathless from exertion. “You already did.”

  A few seconds passed, and she tried to read his features through the waning light.

  “She has a leaky valve.”

  Fear struck deep inside her. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she needs to take it easy. Her doctors are watching it. If it gets bad enough, it could mean surgery.”

  She released a fearful breath. “But it won’t kill her?”

  “Not as long as she does what she’s supposed to.”

  Gratitude overwhelmed her. “Thank goodness. I thought for sure you’d tell me she’s dying.”

  Rick started walking again, slower this time, and she fell in beside him. “Would you really care? You don’t even know the woman.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say.” A lump clogged her throat, and she tried to form words that wouldn’t come.

  He stayed silent.

  “You know what?” she said when she found her voice. “You’re a real jackass. I don’t need you to approve of my relationship with my aunt. As far as I’m concerned, you can go to hell.”

  Chapter Seven

>   Erin sprinted toward the house. She didn’t need Rick or his asinine opinions of her. Tears blinded her, and she stumbled a few more times before she made it back to Annabelle’s backyard. She entered through the kitchen door and found Annabelle sitting in a chair, her face a mask of relief.

  Her aunt stood, grasping the table for support. “There you are, love.”

  Erin tried to wipe her tears without being noticed, but Annabelle zeroed right in. “Oh my goodness. Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

  “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to worry you. I went for a walk by the river and totally lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” It weighed heavy on her that she’d made her sweet aunt worry.

  The backdoor opened, cutting off their conversation, and Rick walked in.

  Erin flashed him a hateful look, before turning back to her aunt. “I need to clean up, and then I’ll be back down to help you finish dinner.”

  “It’s all right. Everything is ready except the pasta. You wash up, and it should be done when you return.”

  Erin headed out of the room and up the stairs without another glance at Rick. As she reached the top, it seemed as though she walked through a large cloud of lavender. The scent calmed her frazzled nerves, and she was grateful for it. She looked around for a bouquet or candle that might have left the fragrance and decided Aunt Annabelle must be leaving her scent all over the house.

  She returned ten minutes later feeling much better. She’d washed her face and hands and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. For Annabelle’s sake, she’d make polite conversation at dinner with Rick if necessary, but even that would be limited. As much as she wanted to please Aunt Annabelle, she couldn’t be expected to engage in lively conversation with the jerk.

  She couldn’t understand why he disliked her so much. Annabelle obviously enjoyed having her there, and he professed to love Annabelle. So why did he seem in such a hurry to get rid of her?

  To Erin’s surprise, she would be the only one dining with her aunt that night. She wouldn’t ask where he’d gone, but she did send up a quick prayer of thanks that he’d made an exit.