7. ~ The Storm ~

CHAPTER 7

Sunday arrived as the warmest day of the year thus far. Granny and the sisters were at the local parish helping Friar Thompson organize a charity project he had worked on for months. I felt for the priest—Sister Callahan presented a real test of his long-suffering. Before they left, she prepared an extensive list of the things she'd found wrong with the project and how to improve them. Surely, she had some remarkable ideas. I just hoped she would present them kindly.

I spent the day weeding the garden borders, amazed at how invasive the weeds were. In contrast, the perennials' tender green shoots hadn't fully broken through the thawed ground. At twilight, I went inside, and after eating a bit of broccoli soup, turned in for the night.

The trees clump together. The air is dense and hard to breathe. Soldiers in black clothing surround me. Their leader aims his rifle at a man kneeling on the ground. I can't see his face, but I plead for his life.

A blast rings in my ears. The soldiers vanish, and the man collapses. I turned him over to find his shirt covered in blood. I rip it open to stop the bleeding, but the deadly bullet has hit its mark. The young Mr. Sterling lies dead in my arms. I wail in pain.

I bolted upright, fear clutching my heart. The wretched nightmare had felt too real, and so had my anguish at seeing Mr. Sterling dead. In the semidarkness, the walls seemed to close in, suffocating me. I threw on my robe, grabbed some paper and pencils, and headed up the narrow stairway tucked in the corner of my room to the east tower.

Dawn sent faint shafts of light across fields, buildings, and small pockets of forest. I drew a breath of fresh air, trying to make sense of my dream. But I doubted another explanation existed beyond my confusion about my employer and his past.

I sat at a metal table near the short wall that encompassed the terrace, and sketched Mr. Sterling's face as I remembered it from the picture in my office. The rising sun vanquished the last of the shadows as I outlined his dark eyelashes. What secrets lay behind those captivating eyes?

"Mr. Vines is driving me to town," Mrs. White announced after lunch. "Miss Contini, if you'd like, you can go home now." It was more a command than a suggestion.

"Thank you. I might."

"Here is the grocery list." Zaira handed her a piece of paper.

She folded the paper and marched out of the kitchen.

"Is something wrong with Mrs. White?" I asked. "She looked quite unsettled."

"You can say that again. To tell you the truth, the pantry is well-stocked, but she insisted that I make a list, so I did. But then, of course," Zaira said pensively, "it might have something to do with?—"

Zaira and I turned at once when Mr. Sterling unexpectedly entered the room.

"Miss Contini," he said. "Come with me, please."

Zaira's eyes widened with curiosity at his request, reflecting my reaction. I gave her half a smile and followed him through the French doors. We crossed the yard to the stables, where he opened the door to let us in. Two horses, one white and one jet-black, watched us from the stalls, their eyes glimmering in the semidarkness.

"Oh my. They are beautiful!"

"They are. I bought them from a farm in Knoxville. They arrived just yesterday." He swallowed hard. "I thought you might like to go for a ride. You like horses, don't you?"

My fingers gently slid down the black one's neck. He was soft, velvety. "I was terrified of them when I was little. It took Granny, the nun who raised me, a little work to get me to trust them. It was worth it, though. I love riding."

A look of sadness etched his features. "Maybe this isn't a good idea? You aren't appropriately dressed anyways." He glanced at my skirt. "You'll be safer riding astride."

"I'll be fine. Tell me their names."

"I have only named this one." He pointed to the white horse. "Her name is Lady."

Lady. The word from his lips rang in my ears like a piano key held indefinitely. And mingled with it came Mr. Vines's word about the garden statue, "The lady who traveled all the way from England. She neither slumbers nor lets others rest." Had Mr. Sterling named the horse keeping his deceased wife in mind? If that was true, she still held a tight grip on his heart, perhaps hindering the possibility of a new love blossoming.

"As for this rascal, I couldn't come up with one. Would you like to give it a try?" Mr. Sterling informed, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"I'm not very good with names."

"I have a hard time believing that when you bear the perfect one." His strong British accent revealed a trace of nervousness.

"Thank you." I was flattered by the compliment but wondered what he meant by "the perfect one."

"Come on, you must think of a name."

"All right." I contemplated the animal's intimidating presence, and I had it. "General." The word came naturally, as if I had said it a million times before.

"Why General?"

I suddenly remembered he'd been a general, so I wasn't about to say strong and beautiful. "He just looks like one, that's all."

"Right, then. General it is."

I watched Mr. Sterling as he fastened the saddles on the horses. Evidently, he had done this innumerable times. He led them out of the stable while reciting the safety rules as if I were a child.

But I responded with, "Yes, I will remember that," or "Yes, I know," or "Sure, I'll do that."

Before I could react, he lifted me by the waist and set me sideways on Lady. "Don't worry. She is docile." He checked the reins one final time.

"I'm not worried."

He then mounted General, his long legs making it look effortless. Without delay, he took point. As we rode farther into the woods, the gray day turned dark. Occasionally, he gestured to a tree or some wildflower and told me its name. But there wasn't much opportunity to carry on a conversation. We rode for quite some time before reaching a meadow.

He dismounted at the edge of the trees and extended his arms to me. I reached for his shoulders, and his hands went around my waist as I slid off Lady. I landed so close I didn't dare look up at him when he vacillated before letting go of me.

Gathering the reins, he secured the horses to a tree and then walked into the meadow. He lay on the grass, eyes closed. I sat beside him, wondering if he had intentionally brought us here or if the stop was just a coincidence.

When the silence stretched too long, I had to ask, "Mr. Sterling, have you been here before?"

"I know I'm a bit older than you, but when you call me Mr. Sterling, it makes me feel ancient. Please call me by my first name."

"Alexander?"

"No!" He laughed. "My mother called me Alexander when she was upset with me. Just Alex."

"All right. Alex."

"What shall I call you?" He rolled onto his side, propping himself on one elbow.

"Miss Contini," I joked, and he rewarded me with another laugh. For a moment, I could see the young Alex of my dreams, the Alex whose face wasn't etched with sorrow and whose eyes weren't shadowed and troubled. "Florence is fine. But you haven't answered my question."

"No, I have never been this far," he responded a bit too quickly.

"I wonder how large the area is."

"I have a map in my office. You are welcome to look at it if you'd like."

"I'll take you up on that. Truth be told, I had no idea this part of town existed until I started working for you."

"I'm glad you learned something new." He smiled. "And since we are speaking of learning new things, tell me more about you."

"Me? You'd be bored."

"Try me." He seemed to seriously want to know.

"Well," I started, "growing up in a religious school with a nun for a mother wasn't exciting, but I love the people I grew up with. And along the way, I gained a good education. Apart from that, there isn't much to tell."

"That can't be it."

Hoping that if I opened myself to him, he would do the same in return, I asked, "What would you like to know?"

He sat up. "Everything."

"Everything?" I considered what everything meant, and for the first time since meeting him, I realized how little of the world I knew. He'd had an army career, a family, and countless experiences I could only dream of. For goodness' sake, I didn't even have a family legacy. My contemplations took me aback, for I realized I wanted to impress him.

Finally, I was beginning to accept what was happening to me, yet I didn't know how to deal with it. I had never thought about men the way I thought about him. Was this the sudden fever of love that overpowered reason? I couldn't say, for I had never experienced it; I had only read about it in books.

"Start from the beginning. You were left at the monastery, but there must be something more, you know." His words came out as naturally as if he had rehearsed them.

If nothing else, I could carry on an intelligent conversation. I shifted from my emotional side to the rational one. "All I know is that it was summer twenty years ago. On her morning walk, Granny heard a cry from the garden. She followed the sound and found me wrapped in a blanket on the ground. She said I stopped crying as she cradled me in her arms, and she's loved me ever since."

"How old were you?"

"Days? Maybe a week? I don't know."

He pointed to my wrist. "You said your bracelet was left with you, right?"

"Yes. Granny thought it might have been my mother's and that Florence Contini might have been her name. To maintain that possible link with the past, she named me the same."

Alex rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And did anybody ever come asking for you?"

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, but I'm lucky to have Granny. She is a great woman and mentor. She tried to be fair and not spoil me?—"

"I think she failed in that."

His good humor surprised me. I laughed. "She did. I always got away with things."

"Like what?"

"Like escaping from the girls' dormitory to have my own space. The dormitories felt like a hospital with their rows of beds. Besides, it wasn't fun when the girls left for holidays, and I was left to stare at their empty beds."

"I can understand that."

"I moved to the room in the east tower. The sunrise is breathtaking from the top."

"The monastery sounds interesting."

"You should visit sometime. I'd love to show you around."

"I might." It sounded like a definite never. "What about your classes? Tell me about your teachers. Nuns, I suppose."

"Yes. We had a troop of wonderful sisters throughout the years. A monk taught a history class only once and not for long." A soft breeze caressed the meadow, and I noticed some clouds on the horizon, inching in our direction.

"A monk?"

"From a church in Montrose. A fascinating storyteller the girls were besotted with."

"And you?"

"He was all right." There was no need to disclose how unattractive I thought the monk was.

"Just all right?" Alex lay back and folded his arms behind his neck.

"Yes, just all right." From the corner of my eye, I admired his physique—lean, sculpted strength and grace.

"History lessons. Nice," he mumbled. "Tell me, Florence, have you dated much?"

Such an intimate question. No matter. I seized the chance to turn the tables on him. "Not much, just a couple of men in town, but enough of me. Tell me about you."

The breeze suddenly changed to a gale, the tree branches bending accordingly.

"Wow—amazing how fast the weather turned." Alex rose and extended his hand. "We should head back."

"Almost as fast as you changed the conversation." I smiled.

He seemed a bit startled by my remark, but was quick to respond, "You know enough about me from the documents you handle."

"Maybe about your finances, but you have a history besides your investments, don't you?" I couldn't explain where I found the audacity to speak to him like that. Perhaps it was my growing frustration over the past few weeks and coming to terms with my feelings for him.

"We need to go, or we'll be caught in the storm." He headed to the horses, the subject of his past having raised an almost tangible wall between us.

"I would like to know," I insisted.

"If you knew, you would run. My past would haunt you like it haunts me. I would lose y—" He let out a sigh of frustration. "I don't want to talk about it. Let's go."

Lady snorted and swung her head back and forth, seemingly more desperate than Alex to flee the situation.

"All right, don't fuss." He soothed while trying to untie her as she continued to grow impatient. "We are going."

Branches creaked in the increasing wind, and a fleet of rooks catapulted from the treetops, cawing with a nerve-racking pitch. My gaze darted from the black cloud of birds to Alex, then to a spot past him in the trees. The trespasser stood there, barely visible through the vegetation, watching us. Shivers coursed through my veins, reminding me of the encounters with the monk's ghost at the monastery. Backed by the familiar feelings, again, I wondered if this man was a ghost. My eyes fixed upon him, yet, I was unable to distinguish his nature. "The common belief is that they have unfinished business," Granny had said. If a ghost, could he possibly have unfinished business with Alex from the war or his personal life? The thought unsettled me; he could be very human and have even more reason to stalk the house if he pursued Alex. I just couldn't tell for sure if the trespasser was alive or dead.

"Are you ready?" Alex asked, waiting for me to mount.

I contemplated drawing his attention to the stranger, if for no other reason than to gauge his reaction. But when I looked back, the figure had vanished. "Yes. I'm sorry." Once on Lady, I ordered myself to rein in my imagination. The trespasser might be just that, a trespasser—a recurring one.

The first raindrops fell, and lightning flashed. Alex's hair flopped across his forehead as he turned to General, momentarily transforming him into the young man in my dreams. His previous words tumbled through my head. "If you knew, you would run. My past would haunt you like it haunts me." What could be so terrible?

He mounted General, and we headed back just as the heavens unleashed their fury, the rain now coming in sheets. The trees bowed and arched over our path, spooking the horses. The animals flared their nostrils and neighed as they took two steps backward for each step forward.

"It's too dangerous to ride." Alex jumped off General and nodded for me to do the same. "Hold her reins tight and stay close to me."

I slid off Lady and pressed into the wind while she pulled against me. "It's okay, girl, you're fine," I sputtered through the rain on my face.

Twilight closed in as Oak's Place finally came into view.