Wild Spirit: Huntress

by Victoria Wren

  “He’s in his study…but he won’t want to be disturbed,” she added with a warning glare.

  Win looked thoughtful, biting her lip. So he was in his own wing. She wandered the corridor, opening the door to the secret entrance Luke had specifically warned her not to use. Ever.

  But when did she ever pay attention to him?

  She stepped into the dark hall, ignoring the creeping sensation up her neck when finally it opened onto a huge landing, and another ornate staircase led down. She peeked around the top floor. She gasped, peering around the door. It was like something out of a movie, huge long windows, a massive plush bed, and a television as big as a cinema screen on the wall.

  She tiptoed down the stairs, her hand running along the smooth, polished wood until she landed in a marble hallway. There was a big television room, and she spotted an ornate oak door. Pushing it open with the tip of her fingers, it snagged on the plush carpet, nice and soft. Expensive. Her bare feet sank into it.

  Win clutched the box harder, reminding herself why she was there, stepping timidly inside, and hoped he wouldn’t yell at her. There he was, hovering over his desk, head down, his thick hair falling around his face. The floor creaked under her feet. He jerked and looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. Smiling, surprised, he whipped them off and put them down carefully on his desk. “Red-haired girl…what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “It’s Win,” she reminded him curtly, and he nodded, scratching his head.

  “Ah yes, sorry.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Win…I take it that’s short for Winifred?”

  “Hmm,” she hummed, impatiently rocking on her feet. He smiled, but there was nothing there. It was like a muscle spasm. It never reached his eyes. “I found this upstairs…I wondered if you wanted to look through it, in case it gets tossed out with the rest?”

  He noticed the box she was cradling and moved his fingers in an authoritative ‘come here’ motion, her toes sinking into the thick carpet as she placed it on his desk. He flipped the lid, peering down at its contents. He flicked past Luke’s card, barely glancing at it. In fact, he disregarded it all, tossing it aside like it meant nothing. Her heart sank, but she wasn’t sure what she had hoped for.

  Win had hoped for something. A flicker of memory. Something to prove he did care about Luke. She studied his profile, watching for any change of expression as he casually tossed through items he had once deemed precious enough to keep hold of.

  He found the old football photo, his face cracking into a real grin. “Can you believe this was me?” he cackled, holding up the picture. “I don’t look much like this now.”

  Win nearly let out a laugh, thinking how wrong he was. Jake gritted his teeth as though the photo offended him; he tossed it back in the pile, shutting the lid abruptly. “No, I don’t want to keep any of this.”

  Win was shocked, her brows lifting. “You don’t? But all the birthday cards….”

  His expression stony, he slid the box toward her. “Nope, I’m good. It doesn’t mean anything now…not now I’m being divorced by my own son.”

  Win bit her lip, eyeing him, testing to see if he really meant it. When she didn’t make a move to take the box back, he grabbed it. “Thanks for bringing it down here. I’d also like to add you waltzed into this private side of the house uninvited.” He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps the next owners will block off the entrance…I’ll take care of this.”

  She flinched. “What will you do with it?”

  Jake shrugged, nonchalant, his blue eyes flicked toward the large stone fireplace. She recognized petulance on his face. “Burn it?”

  “No,” she cried, seizing the box out of his hands, wrapping her arms around it so he couldn’t touch it. “I’ll keep hold of it. You might want it one day!”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling deeply. “I highly doubt it. Do you know he’s going to change his name to Blakeley? His mother’s name. The woman who walked out on him when he was six?”

  Win could tell his temper was fraying. Perhaps this was the side of his father Luke disliked so much. “Maybe you should talk to him? You could make things right, and he might change his mind?” She knew she was drastically overstepping.

  He exhaled through his nose, pausing to look her over, his brows knitting. “Do you think he will?” It was laced with malice.

  Win looked away, anywhere but in his eyes. “No, I guess not.”

  “Then I don’t need to be here a second longer than I have to.” He placed his large hand at the base of her spine, propelling her toward the door. “If you don’t mind, Winifred, I need to get going.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, holding the box tight. He was staring at her hard, his brow furrowed like he was working something over in his mind. “Sorry I bothered you,” she said, disappointed, her hand reaching for the door.

  “Oh, no bother,” he shrugged her comment off. “Give my warmest regards to your father…and your mother too.”

  Win paused, her spine stiff as she threw him a look of confusion. “My mother passed away a long time ago.” Technically not true, but it was their party line. The truth was way too confusing.

  Jake’s smile was wicked, his eyes gleaming. He crossed the room, guiding her out of the door with a gentle push. “Is that what he’s still telling people?”

  Startled, Win didn’t know how to react as he shoved her out into the hall, slamming the door behind him. Her mind whirling, she went back to the cold familiarity of the attic, feeling safer up here than she had in Jake’s office. She stuffed the box back where she found it, tucking it away in its lonely hiding place. A while later, she heard a car start. She ran to the porthole. She spied a black Mercedes speeding out of the drive. What the hell had he meant? Is that what he’s still telling people? Huffing, she sat back down, hoping it wouldn’t be long before Ella came to keep her company.

  A day passed, and Win found herself once more on the dusty attic floor, tirelessly pouring over the documents. She huffed, pushing her hair off her neck. As the day dragged on, the air grew thicker, heat rose, causing her to break a sweat, and she made several trips down to the ground floor to bring up drinks.

  She felt miserable, wondering what Ella was doing. At least at Hardy's, they got to hang out. She felt like a naughty child who'd been confined to her bedroom. The festival was in its second day in town, concluding tomorrow evening with a massive market, stallholders selling yummy food from their carts. She hoped Luke might take pity on her and she would be able to get out in time.

  As she worked, her thoughts turned to Grayson, wishing she could sneak off and meet him even though he'd managed to piss her off. But she thought it didn't take much to irk her, to make her temper rise these days. She was permanently on edge, irritable. It was like being held back; she had all this energy and nowhere to put it.

  Popping her feet up on the worn old couch, she slunk back and drifted through old paperwork, her eyes tired, her thoughts lingering on her tall stranger and wondered if he was thinking about her. She knew she was dabbling with fire, pushing her way into his life. Over the summer, she had tried not to see him, but a few days would pass, and she found she was craving his attention, and she’d inevitably sneak out her window.

  She'd even made a doctor's visit, having tagged along with Rowan under the guise of meeting her new family doctor, and managed to slip birth control into the conversation. In case something might happen with Grayson. Win smiled wistfully. She lived in hope! But so far, not so much as a kiss, which was disappointing and frustrating. Win knew how brazen she was being, but she couldn’t help it.

  Win's ears pricked up, recognizing Luke's footsteps stomping up the stairs on the lower floor. At least she hoped it was him this time.

  Is that what he’s still telling people? She pushed what Jake had said away.

  She straightened, breathing a sigh of relief when both Luke and Ella appeared over the mountain of paperwork. Ella’s cheeks
were pink from the heat. She perched on a box near the door of the attic where it was cooler.

  "You look hard at work," Luke said, rolling his eyes, his gaze falling on Win’s propped-up feet. She curled them under her.

  "This is torture," she complained, letting a file rest on her stomach after fanning herself dramatically. "At least you two get out in the fresh air."

  He sat down next to her, crossing his legs, while Ella folded her hands under her thighs. Win lifted her nose, detecting the smell of onions. She gagged. "Oh, Luke, you smell like burgers!" She held her nose, which made Ella cackle.

  “I told you she’d gag!”

  "I do not smell!" he exclaimed, then sniffed his shirt. "It was a mixed grill special today."

  "Tasty," Ella teased. "You should look like a burger by now!"

  "At least I get fed!" he replied tightly. "That’s going to be kind of important soon.”

  Win’s face fell. She hadn’t told him she had run into his father. In truth, he’d been so busy she hadn’t seen him. Sitting up, she folded her arms around her knees. “So it's happening?”

  He exhaled. “I guess so. My dad isn’t going to be here for the mediator. I have no choice. I had hoped…” he let the words drift. He didn’t need to finish his sentence. He’d hoped his father would try. Looking up at her bashfully, he continued. “He mentioned he ran into you.”

  Win faltered, biting her lip. “Oh…yeah.”

  Luke’s expression tightened. “Sorry…I had no idea he’d turn up unannounced. Did he say anything to you?”

  She burst out a short laugh, covering up the fact she was blushing. “Not much.”

  Luke leaned back on his forearms, grinning. “You are such a liar.”

  Win kicked his foot with her toe. “I am not!”

  “He asked me who the pretty girl was working in the attic.” Luke rolled his eyes skyward. “So you must have said something to him. Trust me. He usually walks around with his head up his ass!”

  “Luke!” Ella leapt to her defense, a smile breaking out across her face. “Leave her alone.”

  Luke was rolling onto his side, laughing. “It’s fine. I know he can be intimidating. Maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t here. I’m not sure what the mediator would have done anyway.” He shrugged, resigned. “It’s done now. Over.”

  “You’ll be alright. We can help you find a place to rent. You know Ella will help you with school. Hawaii is not an option!”

  “Definitely!” Ella agreed, though she didn’t dare look up, knowing Win could spot her bashfulness a mile off.

  “You can't leave us,” she insisted. “We’d miss you.”

  Smiling boyishly, he straightened, kicking up dust as he got to his feet. He held out his hand and hauled her up. “Where are we going?” Win’s back creaked as she uncurled.

  “Ella got us a table at Milly's. I thought we could take you out for a break.” He threw an arm around her shoulder, uncurling it quickly when he noticed her holding her mouth and nose. “Oh, sorry, I forgot I smell like meat!”

  “Can you shower first?” she begged, leaning away from him as they went down the stairs.

  “Jeez, Ella never complains about me smelling, do you?” He winked at her, and a red streak splashed across Ella’s nose. She ducked her eyes, and Win giggled mischievously.

  “That’s because she’s gone nose blind. You both smell like food to me!”

  Luke groaned. “Win, give it a rest!”

  He laughed, promising he’d nip in and out of the shower; she was nearly at the foot of the stairs when she felt an icy whisper tickle the back of her neck. She shuddered and darted a quick look over her shoulder, the cloying feeling of eyes on her back. But for the first time since she started up here, she didn’t feel scared, only sad. It was like someone didn’t want them to leave.

  “How was town?” Win asked as Ella followed her along the corridor after their break. She was so thankful her friend was finally going to keep her company, though Ella smelled of cooked ham and oil from the breakfast shift at the bar.

  “It’s heaving; all the farmers have come in from Lincoln to get their stalls set up,” Ella explained as they wound their way up the narrow set of stairs to the attic. “Luke is going to do an extra shift, but he gets off at two. Movie tonight?”

  “I’d love that,” Win groaned, feeling her stomach rumble, wishing she had managed more than a shake. “I don’t think I’ve much more to go through here.”

  “Well, we can do this double fast.” Ella smiled at her, clearing a space, kicking old stuffed toys out of the way. She settled on a pile of cushions and thumbed through a bundle of papers Win dumped on her lap.

  They chatted lazily, working away for another hour. Sunlight streamed through the porthole, dust particles dancing in the air. She told Ella about her strange encounter with Jake Fraser, her friend's eyes marveling at her bravery and her stupidity.

  “You went into his office?” Ella breathed. “The forbidden wing?”

  Win chuckled at the reference. “I thought he should see his old things. He must have kept them for a reason.”

  Ella shook her head in dismay. “I don’t know if you’re brave or just dumb. Do you know how many times Luke has warned me about that end of the house?”

  Win’s chin jerked up in her direction. She paused, narrowing her eyes at her comically. “Just how many times have you been here? Without me?”

  Ella spluttered, her cheeks growing rosy. “Oh…only a couple of times. The odd movie night?”

  Win wasn’t convinced by the way Ella avoided her eyes and kept her head down. She didn’t push it. Something irked inside her, something she wasn’t being told. The three of them had plenty of movie nights at her house, all of them on the sofa, legs dangling off the end. Luke usually escaped to the safety of the floor as he couldn’t stand being so tightly pressed against the two of them. But Luke and Ella alone…something ached in her gut. She felt shut out, strangely bereft, although she had hoped all along something might be happening. Win shrugged it off, feeling Ella’s unease across the room.

  “So he’s a bit frosty?” Ella circled the subject back to Jake. Win nodded, thoughtful.

  “I don’t think he is keen on repairing the relationship.”

  They carried on in silence. Win’s limbs were stiffening, the after-effects of her wolf encounter still lingering. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about what had happened in the woods, even though as the morning wore on, she was becoming increasingly tense.

  Eventually, she shuffled to her feet and stretched her long arms above her head. She sniffed. There it was again—the old, musty scent beneath her nose.

  Trust your instincts, she thought, following the scent, clambering over old boxes as she made her way to the porthole. It was stronger here. It lingered. Once more, she darted around the back of the chair, looking under cushions and sheets.

  I know I’m not crazy. She gripped the edge of the window, staring down into the courtyard, her eyes wandering across the stone cobbles, the foundation, and the immaculately trimmed hedges—the hare.

  Win blinked. The topiary was cut into the shape of a hare. It was the only one that had been deliberately shaped and trimmed. The tattoo on Grandpa’s back…

  Win fell back on her heels, fragments slowly slotting into place.

  “Win…” Ella called, but Win wasn’t listening. Someone had died up here. She knew it.

  “Win, I think you should see this,” Ella called again. Win was jerked out of her train of thought. Ella was sitting up on her knees, waving an aged piece of paper in the air, her face crinkled with apprehension. “Come sit down.”

  Win had lost the scent anyway; she dodged the boxes as she scrambled back toward her friend, plopping onto one of the cushions beside her. She took the piece of paper out of Ella’s fingers. It was delicate and old; the writing scrawled on there was faded. Ella peered over Win’s shoulder.

  “It’s a marriage
certificate.” Ella pointed to the county emblem printed in red ink. “It’s Luke’s grandfather…but look at the name.”

  Win went cold with shock. Iris Mary Hickory. “Oh my god…she was married to him!”

  Ella pointed to the lower half of the certificate. “But look at the date Win…I knew Luke’s grandpa was old…but look….”

  Win scanned the document. “It says they got married in 1975.” She wrinkled her brow in confusion.

  “But her date of birth was 1929…do the math Win?”

  Win was shaking; she didn’t know what piece of information to take in first. “I don’t understand…” It had gone icy cold in the attic, as though someone or something had joined them, watching from the shadows. Listening. Ella shivered, prising the paper out of her hands.

  “Didn’t you say there was an age gap between Iris and your grandpa?”

  “Yes, there is.” She trembled involuntarily, the realization becoming clear. “About two years.”

  “Win… this means your grandpa was born in 1927. He’s ninety-three years old!”

  Win thundered down the attic stairs, Ella closely behind her. They ran along the corridor. Win halted in front of the old man’s door. She reached for the handle, but Ella snatched at her forearm.

  “Win, he’s an old man…this isn’t a good idea,” she begged, but Win was furious, her eyes yellow and flashing.

  “I need to know. Did he keep her here? Did Grandpa even know?” Win sputtered. She could hardly take in what she had learned. Boldly, she grabbed the shiny handle and flung open the door so hard it slammed on the opposite wall. Judy had been reading in a chair. She sprang to her feet, her book sliding to the floor, taken surprise by the intrusion.

  “Miss, what are you doing? Mister Robert is asleep now,” she flung at her, gasping as Win crossed the room, coming to stand right by the old man’s side. Win stared down at him; his thin papery skin stretched over old, fragile bones, streams of salvia pooled at the side of his lips. Win’s eyes were hot on his, unaware of how yellow they were burning. Ella hung back in the door.