Miles

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  “I’m so glad,” Miles said, his smile lighting his hazel eyes even more than usual.

  I spun around in a circle, I was so glad, glad, glad!

  “I would give you the biggest hug if I could,” I grinned.

  Miles blushed, and glanced away.

  “I mean, I’m just so thankful… we would have kept the other doctor appointment, and it’s almost certain he would have done more expensive tests, and claimed there was nothing wrong,” I said, feeling a tiny bit awkward now.

  Miles looked back at me, and smiled again.

  “I’m very glad. I really am. It isn’t often that I can help someone.”

  I stopped and looked at him incredulously.

  “Are you serious? You are constantly finding ways to help people. How about one of Nate’s guys, I think his name is Ben. If you didn’t intervene, he would have been injured when the ladder he was standing on to trim the large hedge of roses near the fountain, started to fall. And when Susie was cleaning the chandelier, with a flick of your hand, you kept her from taking a dangerous tumble off of that ladder. I don’t know what the deal is with the people I hire and ladders, but if it wasn’t for you, there would be some serious on the job injuries. I’ve seen you do lots of other little things for the people that come and go here at the estate. You think I haven’t noticed?”

  Miles shrugged. I rolled my eyes.

  “It may be no big deal to you, but it is to the people you help. I can only guess how much good you’ve done over the past hundred and forty years, because you’re too modest to admit to it. Do you realize I owe you my life? You saved me when the cellar door collapsed. I couldn’t hold on. My fingers were slipping, and if you hadn’t caught me, or whatever you did, I would’ve smashed against the floor, the way the pieces of the door did. I don’t even want to imagine how badly I would’ve been hurt if you didn’t save me.”

  “I don’t either,” Miles said, with that soft look in his eyes.

  Now it was my turn to blush, and look away.

  “Well you’ve helped, big time,” I said, getting back to the original subject. “You saved my life, and you just may have saved my sister’s life, too. If you could see how sick she’s been… but now she can start getting better!”

  The very thought made me spin around the entryway some more, I was too happy to behave like an adult.

  Miles laughed, and Trixie caught the enthusiasm and started pirouetting, too.

  Finally I calmed down enough to be serious again.

  “I should go, I just wanted to let you know right away. And… thank you, Miles. Thank you. For everything.”

  “Any time,” Miles said softly, with that look in his eyes again.

  I didn’t blush this time, but I did melt inside. Which is saying a lot, considering how cold I was after my trip through the freezing night air.

  I recovered as best I could, but it wasn’t easy. Miles insisted on walking me home.

  “It’s dark, and you didn’t bring Chip,” he said. “You can’t expect me to let you walk off into the dark by yourself. What kind of friend would I be, if I did that?”

  So he walked me home, and I was glad it was dark, because it meant there was a chance he couldn’t see the struggle my brain and my heart were in.

  We said good night. I went inside the cabin and locked myself in the bathroom, the only place I could be alone, and ordered myself to get a grip and quit crushing on my semi-transparent friend! This was happening way too frequently, and it had to stop. Myself wasn’t very cooperative, but in the end, I regained control.

  ~***~

  Cynthia stood on the sun-dappled bridge, gently tracing her brother’s initials as fresh tears brimmed, then tumbled down her cheeks and into the stream below.

  The rose scented breeze ruffled her hair and cooled her forehead, as a wisp of a cloud passed overhead. She glanced up at the late afternoon sky, and sighed.

  Cynthia swallowed hard, blotted her eyes, and left the bridge behind. She walked slowly down the path through the trees, and back to the garden.

  Her striped kitten crouched near the fountain, watching a beetle lumber across the paved path. With a leap, he batted it with a white tipped paw, then leaped away again, as though terrified the bug might bat back. The kitten saw her and came running, rubbing its furry sides against her legs as it purred. She picked him up and buried her face in his soft kitten fur.

  Cynthia sighed, and wondered again where Trixie, Miles’ dog, was. She hadn’t been seen since the day he and Delevan were killed.

  The kitten wriggled out of her arms so he could continue examining the beetle, and Cynthia turned toward the house. As she neared the entrance, she heard her Father’s voice drift through the open front door.

  “That girl is a worthless little fool, what Delevan saw in her I’ll never know. She’s lying, there isn’t a word of truth in her.”

  Someone else spoke, but too softly for Cynthia to understand who it was, or what they said. Father, however, was easy to hear.

  “The ammunition used for one thing, the firearms involved, the time frame. I’d like you to explain to me how Delevan managed to shoot his brother twice, after he was already dead! I’m positive from the markings on the ground there were more than three people there. Someone went to a lot of work to try and make the clearing support Miss Williams’ story. Miles’ dog went missing that day, and has never been found. You have a responsibility to find the truth, why you’re content to accept the word of that woman is unfathomable...”

  Cynthia hurried by. Father must be meeting with the Sheriff again. It made her feel even worse than she already did, to hear Father try and convince the Sheriff to look deeper into the cause of her brothers’ deaths. It would do no good… she shared Father’s opinion that the Sheriff wanted Sarah’s story to be true. Otherwise there was a murderer still at large, and everyone would look to the Sheriff to determine who that person was, and to see that justice was served. The Sheriff didn’t want neighbors to begin doubting one another, he’d rather they believe Miles and Delevan killed each other. It infuriated Father, and sickened Cynthia and Mother.

  As she silently passed through the entry on her way to the stairs, familiar handwriting caught her eye. On top of the stack of mail which lay on the entryway table awaiting her Father’s attention, was an envelope addressed in Sarah’s handwriting.

  Cynthia looked toward the parlor where her Father was still arguing for justice. She paused a moment, then slipped the envelope off the table and into her pocket.

  Cynthia hurried up one staircase and then another. She was out of breath and shaking, by the time she reached the top. She opened the attic door and slipped inside, then dropped onto the cushions she piled in a corner to create her secret hiding spot. She’d spent hours here, playing with her doll and reading… and in the past few weeks, grieving.

  Cynthia took the letter out of her pocket and looked at it in the light of the round window beside her. She remembered how kind Miss Williams was to her. Nothing made sense… Why was she lying? Maybe this letter would answer that question.

  Father and Mother would be upset if they knew Cynthia took Father’s mail. But the letter itself would upset him, unless it contained a confession.

  Hands still shaking, she carefully opened the envelope, took out the letter, and unfolded it.

  A puzzled frown crossed Cynthia’s face.

  The letter was very strange. Cynthia wondered if Sarah’s mind was not right.

  She sighed. It was well that her Father was spared reading it.

  Cynthia folded the letter and hid it where she was sure it would never be found.

  Chapter 11

  I woke up when the breath was knocked out of me by my little brother, who saw fit to pounce on me.

  “Ug, Tryon...you are getting way too big for this!” I groaned, rubbing my ribcage.

  Tryon laughed, and ran out the door.

  By the time I was dressed and ready for the day, Tryon was making himself at home on
top of the kitchen counter.

  “Well, Mr. Tryon!” I said, removing the bag of cookies from his little hands. “Why don’t we try, try again, and find you something better for breakfast.”

  I lifted him off the counter and brushed the crumbs from his face.

  “Nothing better than cookies for breakfast,” Tryon tried to reason with me, then did an about-face. “Fix me breakfast?”

  “Sure, Try,” I said, as he grabbed me around the knees and squeezed, then took off for the living room where I heard the sound of cartoons in the background. It was kind of unusual for Mom not to be awake by now.

  I pulled out the instant oatmeal, bacon and eggs, and cooked a quick breakfast.

  “Come and get it, hungry boy!” I called towards the living room.

  Tryon skidded in on his pajama covered feet and crashed into the table, knocking over a chair and sending his cup to the floor with a splash. Really Polly, little boys are easier? I shudder to think!

  “Chip, get it,” I said, pointing to the milk spill.

  Should I clean it up? Probably. But Chip was an awesome mop, when I was in a hurry. And I was.

  I got Tryon going on his breakfast and poured a bowl of food for Chip, then hurried down the hall for my coat.

  I bumped into Mom as she came out of her room.

  “Oh, sorry Mom!” I said, regaining my balance.

  “What are you doing up so early?” Mom asked, a puzzled look creasing her forehead.

  “Uh...well, I need to get to work. What are you doing up so late?”

  “Anika, it’s Saturday.”

  Oh, wow. I’d been so busy lately, we’d been searching through the rooms of the estate, and the days of the week were starting to meld together.

  “Well silly me!” I said. “I forgot. I’ve got a lot to do though, so I better get going.”

  “Okay,” said Mom, the crease deepening. “But remember, your Dad is here. And you’re gone so much during the week, and you’ve been getting home late... you went back yesterday, after dinner.”

  Well of course, I had to tell Miles what the doctor said! He’s the one who pointed us in the right direction, after all. Of course Mom didn’t know that.

  “You need to stop and take a break sometimes. Even God rested on the seventh day.”

  What’s with the frown?

  “I will Mom, I won’t stay all day. But especially now, with all she’s going through, I don’t want to let Polly down.”

  I also don’t want to let Miles down, I thought, as I hurried over the snow-covered ground. I couldn’t imagine how he stood being isolated for so long, and until such time as I proved his innocence and got him out of this limbo-ness, I was going to make sure he didn’t spend any more days alone.

  And it isn’t like I was ignoring my family… I cooked the kid breakfast this morning! Still, Mom was right. Dad was home, and we didn’t get to see him much these days. I needed to take advantage of the opportunity.

  I reached the end of my very cold walk and hurried up the stairs and into the entryway, blowing on my hands. The warm air of the castle felt good. I looked around, thinking what a fortune it must take to heat the place. The Bannermans certainly weren’t church mice. No wonder Alfred was trying to weasel his way in.

  Second-Miles’ condition hadn’t improved. His birthday wasn’t until spring, but the fact that he’d been in a coma for months, had everyone worried. Except Alfred, who hoped he would never wake up. It’s despicable what greed does to people. I saw Alfred positively skipping down the sidewalk the last time I drove into town. I’d no doubt he was just counting on Second-Miles not pulling through.

  “Hi,” I said, as Miles walked down the stairs.

  “Hi back,” he smiled.

  “What, no superpowers today?” I asked, indicating the stairs.

  He looked down, and laughed.

  “I’ve spent so much time with you lately, I’m getting used to doing things the old-fashioned way.”

  “Speaking of which,” I sighed. “I can’t stay long. My Dad’s here for the weekend, and I need to participate in family time.”

  I’m ashamed to admit, I kind of rolled my eyes and used air quotes.

  Miles looked serious.

  “Go home, Anika. Spend time with your family. I’d give anything to have that opportunity again… don’t waste yours.”

  I hesitated.

  “I hate to think of you here all by yourself, with no one to talk to, though… and I was hoping to search more of the second floor today.”

  Miles shook his head.

  “It isn’t your responsibility to keep me company. I love the time I get to spend with you. But I’ll stop being here when you are, if I think you’re sacrificing family or friends to do it. If there are clues, they’ll still be here Monday.”

  “What, I’m not allowed to come back until then?” I exclaimed, more than a little bit irritated.

  “If you do, you won’t find me here. Now go, spend time with your family. I’ll see you Monday.”

  He ushered me back out the door.

  Well! I’d think he’d been talking to Mom, if that was possible.

  I hung out with Dad that afternoon. He was splitting logs for firewood. I stacked, and we talked, between the blows of the axe.

  “So how is it, working for Uncle Mark?” I asked, picking up a piece of wood.

  “Good. Real good. I enjoy the work, and benefits are better… I’m starting to think we’re going to be better off than if I never lost my job.”

  “That’s great, Dad. I’m glad you’re happy.”

  “Mom and I plan to start looking for a place to live soon. Cost of living is higher, but so is the pay.”

  I processed that while Dad split some more logs. He placed another on the chopping block, then took a moment to rest and continue the conversation.

  “It would be good for Mom and Doreen to not have to travel so far to see her new doctor. It might be good for you too, Mom says you’ve been spending all your time working, and haven’t made any friends.”

  “I’ve just been busy, Dad. I love what I’m doing. And it turns out I’m good at it. I might want to major in hotel management, when I start college. I think I’d enjoy managing a lodge or upscale bed and breakfast. I’m saving a lot because of my job, and Polly suggested I apply for a scholarship her family set up.”

  “Okay, honey. I’m glad to hear that. Just be sure and take time for yourself. We all need friends, it isn’t healthy to be alone.”

  I was mulling over Mom’s and Dad’s words of concern as I picked up a few forgotten groceries at the store the next afternoon.

  Maybe I should make more of an effort with people. It was just so time consuming to try and make friends, and I already had a good friend in Miles. I sighed in frustration.

  “Hi, are you Anika?” asked a girl about my age.

  Tall, gorgeous curly red hair, blue eyes. Somehow managed to be stick thin and have curves all at the same time, no less. She had that top model thing going on.

  “That’s right,” I replied. “Have we met?”

  I could answer that. No. We have not.

  “I’m Susan’s daughter. Our moms are friends. I’m Jenny,” she smiled.

  “Hi Jenny, nice to meet you.”

  “So how do you like it here? It must be a big change from where you lived before,” she said.

  Jenny was really, genuinely nice. I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice, now that my insecurities backed down a bit. There wasn’t anything snobbish or superior about her.

  Note to self, do not judge a book by its cover! Even if that cover leaves you feeling short and insignificant, by comparison. My brown hair and eyes would be no match if there was a contest going on. And I’d bet a dollar if she stepped on a rotten cellar door, it wouldn’t collapse on her.

  I brought my thoughts back to the conversation, and Jenny’s question.

  “I really like it here. Everyone is so nice. It’s very different from where we
’re from.”

  “That’s great. Have you made any friends here, yet?” she asked.

  “Not really, I’m busy working most of the time,” I said.

  “Some of us are meeting at the coffee shop later today, why don’t you join us. We always have a lot of fun, sometimes we play Jenga, or dominoes, or Scrabble… it will give you a chance to get to know some people, if you want.”

  “Okay…” I said hesitantly. Fine, Mom and Dad. This is for you.

  And so, at seven o’ clock that evening I was at the Bean There, Bun That. Kind of a dorky name, but the lattes were good.

  The store front, like all those on Main Street this time of year, was decorated with Christmas lights. Inside there were more decorations, and Christmas music quietly played over the sound system. It wasn’t as upscale as the coffee shop where Polly and I met her PI. It was a better fit for college age students, though. There were booths along the walls as well as tables scattered about the room. There was free Wi-Fi here as well, and a few people sat glued to their laptops. Most were in a group with Jenny, though.

  “Anika!” Jenny said. “I’m so glad you made it!”

  “Hi Jenny,” I smiled, as I walked over to her group.

  She gave me a hug.

  “Hey everyone, this is Anika. She moved here last fall.”

  Everyone yelled out some form of greeting, and I was surprised to recognize one of the guys in her group.

  “Nate, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I’m here most Sunday nights,” he replied.

  “I had no idea you knew each other,” said Jenny.

  “Nate is responsible for how wonderfully the gardens at the estate look now,” I said. “Well...they’re covered in snow, actually. He’s responsible for how wonderfully they’ll look in the spring.”

  And we don’t know each other. He works for me, and I hope being in the same social group doesn’t change the good working relationship we have. That concerned me.

  Jenny led the way to the two empty chairs next to Nate, and I reluctantly followed.

  “How is restoration coming along on the castle, Miss Riley?” he asked, as I settled in my chair.

  “Might as well call me Anika,” I replied. “Everyone else will.”