15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“ A re you sure you want to just run off and not speak to your parents first?”

They were standing at the edge of the forest with Haven House resting quietly just beyond the lane. Willa felt what was now becoming a familiar jolt of terror whenever she thought of running off. She wondered if Grace had felt the same and how she’d overcome that raw fear.

“My parents would never understand.” He’d given further details of his family as they talked between their more intimate moments. Noah’s parents sounded lovely and quite normal—nothing at all like her own. “I’m sorry.”

“I only hate for them to lose two daughters the same way.”

Movement caught her eye in the dense forest behind him, and Willa stared at it. “They won’t.”

His large hand cupped her cheek, and he watched her intently, likely concerned with how pale she’d gone. “Are you able to breathe?”

Able to breathe? With him? Noah allowed her to fly—to soar—higher than she ever dreamed. Her eyes searched the void of darkness forming behind him, wanting it to understand how in love she was with this man. How she could never survive without him.

“I love you very much, Noah. ”

Winding her arms around his neck, Willa kissed him, not wanting the night to end just yet. They had a few more minutes until the clock struck three, and the comforting pressure of his mouth on hers was all she needed to get through.

But then the song began softly.

Carrying through the midnight black of the forest, it mingled with the wind, gently tossing the branches above their heads. She had found peace in Grace’s song earlier, but now, with what would become the most monumental decision of her life looming, that peace shifted into dread as she finally understood.

Grace’s song.

A lullaby.

First sung by Bonnie, it was a melody for newborn babes, warning of life’s tumultuous paths should they not obey their parents. It was a tune each of them knew by heart, but Grace made the song beautiful with her enchanting voice.

Ending their kiss, Willa held Noah tight, keeping him as the only thing in her line of sight. “Can you hear her?”

His brows knitted together as he listened. “Jennie and Cal must be in the forest.”

“That’s not Jennie singing.”

He felt it then, his eyes going wide. The darkness. The past returning to haunt them. It was curious, pressing in to get a better look. To his credit, Noah stood perfectly still, his grip on her becoming like a vice.

“I lied to you,” Willa whispered. “We’ve lied to everyone.”

His gaze slid to the right as if assessing what was coming up from behind. “Willa?”

“I’m so sorry, Noah.” She was crying, careful and controlled, just as she was taught. No hysterics else someone might hear. “They were running away, and he found them.”

The song faltered, dissolving into nothing as it listened, reliving the memory with her .

“Grace and Tommy,” she went on. “They were going to live at his mother’s home in Atlanta until Tommy could find work far from our mill, but he found out.”

A chill encircled where they stood, distinct and shapeless. Noah pulled her further into his arms, and the wool of Cal’s coat itched along her neck. “What are you telling me?”

She shouldn’t allow him to hold her when she was about to speak a truth that might have him giving up this entire idea of making her his wife. She could have been deceitful and waited until they were wed before revealing it, but that wasn’t fair. He needed to know. Noah had to understand what they were up against and why there would be no going back when she did finally escape Haven House.

“My father.”

There was a tickle on the back of her wrist, ghostly fingertips tracing the freckled pattern that matched its own. The touch pushed her to be brave, reminding her that the possibility of a life with Noah was worth the risk.

“Grace knew my father would never accept her choice. I’ve told you she was beautiful. Men throughout this county and all the neighboring counties relentlessly sought her out. Grace was a goldmine to our father, and giving her up to some mill worker was never going to be an option.”

The touch on her hand applied more pressure, holding on as she made it through the retelling.

“It was at The Gathering. My father found Tommy and Grace in the library. That’s why the mill workers are no longer allowed near Haven. He’s forbidden their presence in our home ever since.”

A sympathetic smile tugged at the corner of Noah’s mouth. “And your sister and Tommy felt that they had no choice but to run away.”

Grace would have run after that night whether Tommy had joined her or not. Once the guests departed from The Gathering, their father cornered Grace in her bedroom, locking them in while he taught her a lesson with his fists. The muffled screams that had come through the closed door still gave Willa nightmares, as did the scene when they were able to get inside. It had taken Cal to break down the door, but her father did not stop even then. He only halted his attack when Margaret and Bonnie rushed in, throwing themselves on top of Grace, who lay shaking on the floor.

Willa had stood helplessly in the doorway, holding a crying Lucy as they looked on in horror. The staff wisely stayed on the lower level, allowing the illustrious Fairweathers their moment to shine. The gossip would spread quickly and once Grace disappeared, no one ever blamed her for leaving.

“He beat Grace horribly that night, and she couldn’t get out of bed for almost a week. Tommy became concerned after the first day, so he hid outside the house and even attempted to break in to get to Grace.”

“I can’t blame him. If it were you…” Noah pressed her flush to his chest. “I would have murdered him, Willa. I would have torn the walls of Haven House down to get to you.”

Her cold hand warmed as it was released, their visitor’s way of showing it was pleased with Noah’s words. Yet, they only upset Willa. “You must never come for me. Ever. No matter if you think my life is in danger, do not come.”

“Of course, I will come for you.”

“No!”

She was getting upset, and the air suddenly felt much thinner than before. Her tears certainly weren’t helping, but she couldn’t stop. Instead of it being Tommy lying dead by the bayou, her mind showed her Noah. Lifeless. Drowned in a fit of rage.

“Grace got away. She got away, Noah. They were almost safe, but my father found them in the forest, right by the graveyard. We didn’t know what was happening until it was too late.”

It had been Cal who was alerted that something was off. Scheduled to go over the mill accounts, he sensed something was wrong when their father was late. Stephen Fairweather was never late for anything, and when a half hour passed, Cal took it upon himself to conduct a search. He’d gone upstairs first, and when he couldn’t find any trace of their father, he went out onto the balcony to see if he was there. That was when he heard the screaming.

“My brother figured out something was wrong and came tearing through the house, shouting for help. We all made it out to the porch in time to see him bolt across the yard. I had never seen Cal run so fast.”

Taking a steadying breath, she allowed herself a moment. Noah’s concern was tearing at her soul, but she told herself she could be strong.

“We heard it then.” She wiggled free of his hold on her but ended up bumping into a tree. With nowhere else to go, she remained plastered against its trunk as Noah and the ghost of her sister waited for her to speak. “Have you ever heard someone’s heart breaking? It’s awful and sounds as if the world truly is ending.”

“Stay with me, love.” Noah came over when she began to slide down the tree’s trunk. “I’ve got you.”

“We ran. Even me. We all ran as fast as we could toward Grace’s screams, but it was too late. Tommy was dead. Drowned right there on the shore of the bayou near the graveyard.” She was gasping, hardly able to speak as the memories returned to choke her. “Tommy had fought bravely for Grace, but he was no match for our father.”

Noah held her up as the storm of emotions she’d kept bottled inside arrived in force. She cried against his chest, the clock ticking down on their time together.

“When we came upon them, Tommy was face down at the water’s edge with Grace on her knees next to his body, pleading and crying for him to get up. There had been so much blood splattered about. On the ground, on the gravestones, everywhere.”

The pain remained. It would be two years this Christmas, but the pain remained as strong as it did on the day it happened.

“We just stood there. Shocked and appalled. Bonnie was the first of us to snap out of it and went to my father, who was staring at his bruised hands. They were speaking, and we were listening, but none of us were watching.” Her face scrunched tight. “None of us were watching Grace. We didn’t see her rise and march off to the mill. We didn’t see as she… as she went straight to the point where the manchineel trees grow.”

“Why would she go there?” Noah smoothed her hair from her face. “I know how poisonous manchineels are and how they can harm with just a touch. Your brother seems fascinated by them, and when I visited Beau several months ago, he kept hounding me over their venomous properties.”

“Grace had gone there to enter the water, thinking no one would follow.” Planted by her grandfather, the vile manchineels grew along the inlet point and served as a deterrent for the mill workers. Fairweathers never tolerated time wasted, even on hot days when an employee might want to take a dip in the cool water. “It was cold. I remember it was a cold day and close to Christmas, so the mill was closed. No one was around. No one was there to stop her from jumping into the water where the bayou meets the bay.”

“She was trying to swim away?”

Willa did fall then, right to her knees. The tears streaming down her cheeks were just as worthless now as they were back then. “Grace couldn’t swim. She was terrified of the water. We made it in time to see her disappear under the surface, and that was it. She was gone.”

Even in the dark, she could see Noah’s disbelief. “Your father? Your brother? None of you went in to save her?”

“We did.”

A pointless endeavor, but they had tried. For their Grace, they had tried. Her father, bloody from his murderous fight with Tommy, screamed as he swam. Cal had used all his strength, diving right along with Bonnie when they came to where Grace had disappeared.

“Every one of us tried to reach her.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him how she had run to the section of shore where there were no manchineel trees, terrified of their sap touching her skin. She didn’t want him to know how she had only managed to make it waist-deep in the water before a breathing attack threatened. The shame of not being able to help her sister would chase her until the end of her days.

“My mother tried to save Grace, too,” she whispered. “I told you she was different before, and she was. Before that day, she was light and happy whenever my father wasn’t around. I was never a favorite, but I think she felt at least some sort of motherly emotion toward Lucy and me back then.”

“Yet, she still seems to adore your brother?”

“Cal resembles Grace. Not only in looks but in personality. They’re close in age and were as thick as thieves once upon a time.” She took a deep inhale, the roar in her ears quieting. “When our mother looks at Lucy and me, all she sees are the disappointing daughters who remain, but Cal, he’s the obedient son, always ready to give our mother whatever she wants.”

Noah settled on the ground, placing his back against a tree. Pulling her into his lap, he wrapped them both in his long winter coat. “How has your family hidden this from everyone?”

She nearly laughed. He hadn’t been around her family long enough to understand their ability to manipulate and deceive with ease. The famous Fairweather charm could move mountains with but a look.

However, when it came to Grace, they had been so very lost in their grief that day. The whole world had come crumbling down on them, and no one had known what to do.

“Bonnie,” she replied. “Bonnie handled it.”

Her father had continued to dive until he retrieved his eldest daughter’s body, and once on shore, Cal had taken Grace from him, wrapping her in his coat as if he could keep her warm even in death. Her mother had wailed when they buried her firstborn in the graveyard. It had been an awful, keening cry of heartbreak, the likes of which Willa would never forget.

Willa rested her head on Noah’s chest, allowing his erratic heartbeat to punch against her cheek. “Bonnie returned to the house first and whispered to the staff that Grace and Tommy had slipped off through the bayou to run away, and we had tried to stop them. It explained why we were wet and distraught.”

“And what about Tommy?” His chin rubbed along the top of her head as if he were thinking this all through. “What happened to his body?”

“We buried him with Grace.”

Her father had fought against it, but when Margaret Fairweather’s mind snapped, he’d had no choice but to comply. To this day, Willa truly believed that if he hadn’t agreed, her mother would have had Cal kill her husband right there on the spot.

“When we went back to the house, none of the staff questioned us. They only clucked their tongues as if to say what a shame, but behind our backs, they whispered how happy they were for Grace.”

Noah’s lips pressed to her temple, and the dark void watching fled, having seen and heard enough. Willa nearly began crying again, hoping beyond hope that Grace was simply returning to her Tommy. That they had found each other somehow.

“They’ll whisper the same things about you,” Noah said softly. “They’ll say good for Willa. Running off to marry the man she loves. A man that’s going to give her the world.”

She lifted her head, meeting his steely gaze. “Are you?”

“I am.” Noah helped her stand, his outrage a mixture of fury and remorse. She understood the fury, but the remorse embedded itself in her brain. He was fighting the urge to sweep her away right then and was feeling guilty because he knew it just wasn’t possible yet. “But first, I have to get you out of that house.”