Chapter 7 : The Great Outdoors
1899 Words
Ah, the great outdoors!
I hadn't been outside of the house in days, not since I arrived. I took a huge breath as I hopped down the steps leading to the kitchen garden, letting the crisp, slightly chilly early spring air fill my lungs.
The first signs of the approaching warm weather were inching through the sodden earth around me. Piles of rotting snow bled into the garden, little tufts of green grass poking through the clumps of dirt-covered ice. I looked down at my reflection in a large puddle near the garden gate, tucking a few rogue curls behind my ears before I started forward, thankful I was wearing boots.
My boots squelched in the mud as I swung my basket. I smiled amiably at everyone I passed, although I didn't get a smile in return. I was a newcomer, an outlander, someone who had yet to gain the trust of those who lived in the patchwork village surrounding Jared's house.
A group of children, all boys by the looks of them, ran past me kicking a leather ball. One of them stopped to look at me, his playmates slamming into him in surprise.
“Hello," I said cheerfully, giving them a wide, genuine smile. The boy leading the fray gaped at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I'm Eliza," I continued, wondering why they were staring at me like I was some rabid beast.
One of the littlest boys stepped in front of their leader, his chin jutting to the sky as he narrowed his dark brown gaze on mine.
I pursed my lips, furrowing my brow at him. “What?"
“Are you a witch?" he asked.
I scoffed, pretending to be thoroughly offended. “No," I said slowly, taking a step toward them. They took a step back in unison. “I work in the laundry. I'm a seamstress."
“Did a witch cast a spell on you?" asked another little boy. Some of them had relaxed a bit, losing the tension in their shoulders.
“I don't believe so," I replied. “Why? Is my skin turning green? Do I look like I'm about to turn into a rabbit?"
One of the boys giggled but was quickly shushed by his companions.
“Your hair looks cursed, like you'll never be able to get a comb through it without breaking it," said the smallest boy in the bunch, the same one who had called me a witch in the first place. “My ma says if I don't brush my hair, the witches will turn it into a mess of tangled heather, and I'll be ugly for the rest of my life."
My mouth dropped open in surprise, but the response I was struggling to form was drowned out by a rush of giggles as the boys began to titter at me.
People had made fun of my hair before, so I was used to it. It was wild and unruly, but I didn't mind. Being called a witch, however....
“Move on, you demons!" came a deep but feminine voice behind me.
I turned as a young, stout woman with thick blonde hair came out of her cabin, waving a broomstick.
The boys screamed in faux terror, the sound broken up by frantic laughter as they scattered and disappeared into the woods. The woman huffed a breath, smoothing her apron over what looked to be an advanced pregnancy.
“I apologize," she said sweetly. “One of those rascals is mine, unfortunately."
I choked on a laugh, and she smiled at me in return.
“They weren't bothering me, I swear," I said, looking towards the woods. “It's nice to see children running around so freely. I come from a big family myself."
“Oh, do you now? Lots of little ones?"
I nodded, meeting her eyes again. She had a kind face with round, rosy cheeks and dark eyes. “Yes, I have a lot of cousins. I was the family babysitter for a long time–" I paused, noticing the confusion on her face. “Nanny, I mean."
“Ah, I see. I used to do the same. Marriage felt like freedom from the job, but now I have small ones of my own," she said in a laugh, shaking her head.
I smiled, understanding her completely. The title of “Family Babysitter'' had been a right of passage, one I'd accepted eagerly.
Lena had held the position for years whenever the family would gather every Winter Solstice. Becoming the babysitter myself meant I was finally in the upper echelons of the family, allowed to stay up late into the night with my aunts while they gossiped over glasses of wine. It was like coming into my womanhood, in a way.
I felt a pang of regret and sadness at the thought of my family. I'd left New Dianny, where I'd been staying with my brother George and his mate Joy, at least a week ago, maybe longer. It wouldn't be long until someone figured out the truth.
“You'd be the new maid, then?" the woman asked, breaking me from my musings.
I nodded, forcing my face into a smile. “Eliza," I said, extending my hand.
“Rosemary," she smiled, shaking my hand. She had a firm, calloused grip.
“It's very nice to meet you," I said, shifting my empty basket to my other hip. “Do you know which cabin belongs to the healer?"
“Oh, yes. I do." She turned, pointing into the distance. “It's outside of the village, due south. Past the sparring ring on the right."
Past the sparring ring. Great.
I smiled and nodded my thanks before taking off on foot again, looking at her over my shoulder. She'd gone back to sweeping her front porch, her eyes occasionally scanning the woods for the feral gaggle of boys.
I passed several more cabins and shops. The village was bustling with activity, and everyone seemed to have something to do. The number of people surprised me, and I felt a little bad for giving Jared a hard time, but only a little. He had what looked to be an entire pack under his care, regardless of the fact he refused to be known as an Alpha. For a moment, I thought that maybe I should try to be a little nicer to him.
“Hmm… No," I said to myself, my mouth curving into a smile. Getting a rise out of Jared had been the most fun I'd had in months, and if I was being honest, I was looking forward to doing it again.
Heat blossomed in my stomach. I tried to stifle it, tried not to think about the heat burning behind his own eyes as I tried to assert my dominance in the study. Goddess, Jared was handsome–a brute who had kidnapped me and forced me to mend clothes, but still handsome.
I tripped over a log and nearly fell. I looked up, now in the shelter of the canopy of trees lining the village. Red buds dappled all of the branches, a promise of spring. I looked behind me, shocked at how far I'd walked without realizing it.
I'd walked, in fact, right past the only cabin left in the area.
“Well, this has to be it," I mused, steeling my expression as I stalked toward the cabin. It was shockingly worn down, the wood gray and splitting with age. The roof was patched in several places, and the porch was nothing more than a few boards held up by stilts. It looked rather unsafe to walk on, and I paused near the steps, which were damp, rotted, and covered in moss.
It didn't look like anyone lived here.
I looked down at the basket. Maybe this wasn't the healer's house after all. I looked past the house into the forest, which stretched on and on, growing darker as the trees thickened. The forest must be as dark as night during the height of summer, I thought, when the canopy above my head would be in full bloom.
A soft breeze blew toward me from the depths of the forest. I heard the chiming of bells in the distance, and even.... No. I couldn't have heard that. Soft whispers? A song of some kind?
I found myself stepping away from the house and moving deeper into the forest involuntarily. I dropped the basket, which bounced across the forest floor without making a sound.
“Hello?" I whispered, every downy hair along my arms standing on end as the canopy thickened, blocking out the sun. A chill ran through me, and not from the sudden cold. Something skittered past me in the distance and I froze, unease rippling through me.
More bells chimed in the wind, this time directly above my head. I looked up in surprise, noticing at least a dozen, maybe more, windchimes hanging from the branches. Other things were hanging from the trees, I noticed as I took several frantic steps backward.
Charms were hanging from the trees… made of bones.
I tripped for real this time, falling flat on my ass onto the damp, moss and ice covered forest floor. Another trickle of wind passed over me, around me, embracing me in a chill so violent it took my breath away.
“Eliza–" Jared said sternly, his voice laced with concern as he pulled me backward and then onto my feet. I didn't turn to look at him; my gaze was fixed on the darkness that seemed to be creeping from the depths of the forest, moving forward like mist. “Eliza!"
Jared shook me firmly, and I snapped back to reality. I swung at him, missing, and nearly toppled over again. He caught me by the waist and dragged me out of the woods until we reached the dilapidated cabin.
“What are you doing out here?" he hissed.
I felt his fingers on my cheek, willing me to look at him. I was still looking into the woods. I couldn't tear my gaze away as hard as I tried.
“What's out there?" I asked.
“Nothing. No one is supposed to be over here–"
“Why? Why the windchimes, and the charms?"
I looked at him then and felt the fear gripping my body dissipate completely as I met his eyes. He looked truly concerned for a split second, then steeled his expression back to his usual ice cold, expressionless gaze.
“What are you doing out here?" he asked again, ignoring my question completely.
I pointed to the basket lying a few yards away. He arched his brow, and I reached into the pocket of my apron, pulling out the shopping list Miriam had sent with me.
“Miriam sent me to the healer," I said. “She needed me to fetch a few things for her."
“Uh-huh," Jared answered, taking the folded piece of paper from my hands. He opened it, scanned it, then crumpled it in his fist and tossed it into the woods. I scoffed, glaring at him.
“That's littering!"
“Get your ass back to the house–"
“Or what?" I protested.
And there it was, that heat behind his eyes.
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- Writer
