The Girl in the Window (20 page)

The hay did get itchy, though
, she thought with a grin, and propped herself up on one elbow to look down at him.

She traced the line of his cheekbone with one finger, brushed the thick hair back from his forehead as she’d always wanted to do.

He was beautiful to her. She loved his face, but more than anything she loved the warmth and compassion in his eyes. Beauty was nothing without heart.

Those sea-colored eyes warmed even more as she touched him.

Josh watched Beth’s face. She seemed determined to memorize every line of his. He smiled and stroked a finger across her cheek before he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

He was still amazed. It felt good, so very good, to have her curled against him.

There was one last chore to be done. One more thing Beth knew they had to do. One last thing, so she could be sure.

Beth had thought she could do it alone, but she found she couldn't.

It mocked her. Shamed her.

Despite it, she couldn't bring herself to go down there alone.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

Josh saw the shadows darken her eyes and frowned a little.

“What?” he asked softly, and tightened his arms around her automatically. Protectively.

“Will you come someplace with me?” she asked.

The door haunted her every time Beth went into the kitchen, although she tried not to look at it.

It mocked her silently instead. Its mere presence challenged her. Terrified her.

A simple door.

The one to the cellar.

There was so much behind it.

Russ had already been down there so he could paint the bulkhead doors that opened onto the outside, sanding the rust away. He’d had to use bolt-cutters to remove the ancient lock. It had rusted in place.

Now those outer doors were painted a deep, glossy, forest green.

Whatever Russ had seen when he’d been down there, he’d made no mention of it. All he’d said was that if she had the money she should consider hiring an electrician put in a new electrical box and to wire in a light switch.

“I can’t explain,” Beth said, as she looked at Josh. “I can’t go down there. Not alone.”

She couldn’t talk about it, not here in this bright cheery kitchen she’d cleaned and painted, this place she’d made new again – had made her own.

Every explanation sounded wrong. It seemed too…melodramatic…too self-pitying. She wasn’t any of those things.

Even so, her courage failed her.

Wolf was in her arms, the cast on his leg making it awkward to hold him. He’d never been down there either.

Sensing her mood, he licked her chin and whined.

A small frown creasing his brow, Josh drew her into his arms, puppy and all. His eyes held hers.

“Then you won’t.”

Josh had the sense he was finally going to get some answers. Only now he wasn’t sure he wanted them. Looking at that door, he knew he wasn’t going to like some of what he found. The thought of what he was going to see down there didn’t make him feel better at all. His heart wrenched and his gut twisted at the haunted, hesitant look in Beth’s eyes.

She blew out a breath and bit her lip.

Looking at her, he said, “Ready?”

“No,” Beth said, color rising in her face. There was a pause as she sought for courage, found it and then she said, “Yes.”

Truthfully, Beth didn’t want to go down into that place. There were too many memories there.

Josh opened the door.

Beth followed him reluctantly, Wolf still wriggling in her arms.

Halfway down she sat down on the steps, her knees giving out.

The smell alone was enough bring back memories, to make her shake.

It was dark – Stygian dark – down there in that dank cellar. So black that Josh couldn’t see his hand in front of his face as he went down the last few steps with only the thin wash of light from the kitchen giving him any illumination. The electricity had come back on, but the storm still raged outside, although more distantly as it moved away.

Josh felt around for the string for the light bulb he’d glimpsed in storm-gray light.

No wonder Beth hadn’t wanted to come down here alone. He wasn’t certain he did.

A damp smell permeated the air. It was musty down there. The floor was still dirt, a loose soft powder that coated the hard-packed floor. That powder was equal parts dust, dirt, and mold. His lungs felt thick with it. When it rained it as it did now the rain percolated through the soil and leaked into the basement. The old sump pump growled. He imagined that in a house this old the foundation was still rough stone. The ceiling was low, claustrophobic. He had to duck his head a little to keep it from hitting the floor joists above his head. It wouldn’t be long before the walls would glisten with moisture, if they didn’t already, once he found the light.

He tugged the string.

The small grimy bulb illuminated the darkness, but only just.

Spider webs both old and new hung from the joists, some with the bundled remains of their prey still hanging in them. If there had ever been windows down here he couldn’t see them through the decades of grime.

He’d been right, the walls were rough stone mortared together. He could hear water drip. Some of those stones gleamed in the thin light.

At the faint flicker of illumination Josh could hear things skitter away into the darkness. Not just cockroaches. The sounds were too loud for mice.

He shuddered, hating the place already. They would need to set traps.

What else hid down in the dark among the moldering boxes and crates, the piles of old newspapers that surrounded them?

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he was able to pick out small details, like the shelves or the ancient file cabinet that stood against the wall at the bottom of the stairs.

Lichen grew on the walls where he could see it and the small wooden enclosure, a cage barely big enough for a large dog.

Inside was the rotted, moldy remains of a teddy bear.

Josh could only stare at the tattered thing.

He thought of the spiders, of the sounds of the mice and the rats skittering along the walls, unseen. The thought of them crawling over him in the Stygian darkness made every part of his body and soul revolt.

“That was why they took me away, Children’s Services,” Beth said quietly. “They did a home visit as part of the investigation and found it. For years I didn’t know.”

Children’s Services.

Josh closed his eyes.

Suddenly he remembered the thin white scars on the backs of her legs he’d seen that day with the lawnmower.

That was why she’d never visited. They’d taken her away. She’d said she had a foster mother. Her parents had abused her and they’d taken her away. Put her into foster care.

He looked at Beth sitting on the steps with the wriggling puppy in her arms, her eyes haunted as she looked around.

“I kept waiting for them to come get me,” she said in a soft voice, looking around at the old canning jars that had been set along the top of the wall, in the spaces between the boards, at the ancient boxes full of who knows what on the floor below. “They never came.”

All she’d asked for was to be wanted. To be loved by those who were supposed to love her.

His heart broke for her.

A soft cry echoed in Beth’s memory, a tiny wail. Tears ran cold down her face.

There were those dreams, those terrible dreams, that enormous roundness coming down over her face. She’d been helpless to stop it. Her breath caught. It seemed as if she couldn’t breathe

In her mind’s eye she could see a pale, wraith-like figure beneath the moonlight, the sound of the baby’s cries becoming thinner, more distant.

A birth certificate had never been registered, Beth had checked.

Had the baby been only in her imagination?

Or had he been real?

“What’s wrong?” Josh asked, turning to look at her, frowning, hearing something in her voice.

In the wan light her eyes were huge, her face pale. “I remember a baby.”

Beth’s heart pounded as she looked up at him.

“There’s no record, but I remember it. Him.”

Her eyes were haunted.

“One day he was just gone. The room at the end of the hall was empty of everything but the crib.”

Later her mother had claimed that she couldn’t care for him, that the baby had been adopted. Her father had been stony-faced ever after.

Beth had snuck into the nursery one day, only to find the room stripped of all but the crib and the plastic covered mattress. A part of her had grieved, wondering what had happened. She hadn’t dared ask, for fear that she would disappear, too, remembering her dreams. Even so, she’d loved that tiny child.

All they’d ever asked was to be loved.

She hoped he was, even as she feared that his tiny body resided somewhere in the distant woods, buried beneath the mossy earth.

It took a moment before Josh understood what it was she was afraid of.

That he wouldn’t want her, knowing what he knew now. That he would leave her as they had, that he would abandon her. And not come back.

Softly, he swore.

In two strides he had her and the wriggling puppy in his arms.

“No, baby,” he said, softly, his lips against her soft hair. “No. It changes nothing. I meant what I said. I love you and I always will.”

It was a big moment. The air of excitement among those waiting was impossible to ignore. Everyone was crowded around the entrance to the practice track Russ had made in the field. Tony had been promoted to supervisor over Brandon and Scott, Tyler’s two friends, and sometimes Tyler, too – when he wasn’t working at the Home with Beth – now that Will worked with Russ and the racehorses.

Beth and Tyler held Fair’s bridle securely as Josh and Russ harnessed Fair to the jog cart, testing each part to make sure it was secure. Fair only flinched and twitched a little as the traces touched him. It wasn’t the first time he’d worn them, Russ and Josh had been working with him for weeks.

She stroked Fair’s muzzle gently as Josh settled into the seat and took up the reins. Will and Tony sat on each side, adding weight to the bike to strengthen Fair’s legs, prepared to help guide Fair around the track if necessary.

“Take him around easy,” Russ instructed, “so we can see how he goes.”

Josh shared a glance with Beth, smothering a grin, knowing she understood.

It wasn’t as if Josh hadn’t been doing this for years. The farm was a way to make a living of sorts – especially chancy these days – but it was racing that had his heart and soul and had for years. He’d raced for others as the driver, using his winnings and savings to buy the farm. The money his grandfather had left him had gone to buying horses. It was what the old man would have wanted.

Russ drove Bella’s bike, giving Fair some competition, although their strides were different.

At the moment it was Bella, the trotter, who was the hope of Josh’s small stable. They were already planning to run her in the Little Brown Jug, she was that good.

Fair, though, was even better.

Russ was Russ, though, and Josh had hired him to train all his horses right, so Josh swallowed his pride and simply nodded.

Now was the moment of truth, the moment when they’d find out if Josh’s judgment had been right, that Fair was even half the horse Josh had thought he was. Even Russ seemed to be in suspense.

Rather than say anything, Josh just nodded.

Beth and Tyler stepped away.

With a shake of the reins and a brush of the whip along his shoulder the horse stepped out smoothly, briskly, and precisely.