Corner of the Housetop: Buried Secrets (19 page)

He rolled off the books and set them on the floor. Looking at them for a moment, a sense of hopelessness washed over him. He suddenly saw himself as an ancient, white-bearded man hunched over a pile of papers covered in useless scribbles and meaningless combinations of letters.

"Pointless, that's what you are," he told his Bible. Whatever Mrs. Worthington and his father saw in it was something far above him.

Stretching, Derek lied back down, nuzzling his shoulders back into the warm hay. The cooler air blew in through the open window at the end of the loft, sending a chill down his spine and raising bumps on his flesh. As he breathed in the clean smell of summer and dry hay, an irresistible sleepiness overtook him.

The hay suddenly felt cool and reedy, like long grass that had been swaying in an early fall wind only moments before. Derek was staring through a leafy canopy, shifting patches of sky and light winking at him as the branches of the forest that had grown up around him moved with a breeze he could not feel….

"
Derek."

It was her voice again.

"
Derek. Find me."

Looking around, Derek found the trees gone. He was sitting in the middle of grass so tall and thick, he could barely see the sky. Where he could see it, the sky was dark and there wasn't a star to be seen. If the moon had ever existed in the inky blackness that hung over him, it had left forever. The shadows that shifted through the webs of angular patches of midnight were thick. It was obvious that this world had never seen the sun.

"
Where are you?" he called, standing up and wading through the grass. It brushed his legs and pulled at his shirt.

She laughed happily.

There was a snap and a grumble to his left and the night noises began. A cawing cry, the clicking of some evil creature struck up in the patch of grass to his right. Somewhere far away he heard a deep, mournful howl followed by more snapping branches and the sound of quick feet over dried leaves.

She laughed again, carefree.

As the noises closed in on him, Derek began to run after the girl, calling out to her. She didn't seem to hear him. The sounds around him grew louder and louder until he thought he'd go crazy.

Suddenly the girl's laughing voice broke through the heavy prison of noise. "Derek."

"
Where are you?"

"
Find me."

Just as he was about to yell to her again, he burst through the edge of the night jungle and found himself standing in a wide, rolling meadow of thick, green grass. It squished under his bare feet and tickled him when it poked up between his toes. The blanket of green was dotted with purple and gold and the blue sky stretched on forever above him. There was no sun, but there didn't need to be. The very field itself radiated light.

It was in the middle of the field that a small bush of yellow flowers stood. Beside it was a tiny pond surrounded by rocks. On one of the rocks stood the girl. She had flowers in her hair. Pink apple blossoms. Her dress was as white as new-fallen snow and her green eyes sparkled with the mysteries of the heavens. Everything Derek could ever have hoped to know were in those eyes, shining out at him.

She smiled at him, lifting her finger to her lips. As before, she beckoned him towards her.

Walking as if by her command more than his own will, Derek moved farther into the meadow, his eyes on hers. His feet sank into the springy grass as he walked, tickling him. When he was a couple steps away from the girl, he stopped, still looking into her eyes.

She smiled again, her eyes shining more brightly. Her lips were smooth and pale, the tendrils of brown hair framing her face, curly.

"
Derek," she whispered, leaning towards him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. She whispered, "Find me."

"
Where are you?"

She just smiled, pressing her finger to his lips to silence him. Her eyes danced with a secret Derek ached to know.

Waking suddenly to the sound of the warbling birds and the merry clip clop of hooves on packed dirt, Derek lied still, staring up at the rafters. It was that dream again.

Who is she?
he wondered yet again.

The merry hooves were joined by a lighthearted whinny. Blueberry...

The Smithfields!

Bolting upright, Derek jumped off his bed, tripping down the ladder and racing across the lawn towards the main house. As he crested the knoll, he saw Blueberry trotting happily up the drive. Ducking around behind the house, Derek managed to come out by the carriage house just as the carriage stopped at the porch. Straightening his shirt and smoothing down his hair quickly, he walked around the building as if he'd just walked out through the side door. He hoped the rooms were spotless.

Jogging over, he flipped the side step of the carriage down.

First out of the carriage was Jonathan. "Bring the bags into the foyer," he said flatly, turning back to help a tall woman with golden hair and a weary smile out of the carriage.

"That was a very bumpy ride."

"It was fun!" a voice from inside the carriage piped.

Undoing the strap over the luggage, Derek hauled the first bag off the boot and set it on the ground.
What did they do? Bring their whole house
? he thought, grabbing the second bag. As he turned to set it down, he came face to face with something small, blond, and bouncy.

"Hi!"

"Abigail," Jonathan said sharply, looking around the carriage.

The little girl looked over at him, her large eyes round. She looked like a little yellow owl wrapped in yards and yards of ruffled lace.

"Why don't you go in with Mommy?"

She shook her head. "I made a new friend and I want to talk to him."

"He's not a friend, he's a servant."

Planting her hands firmly on her hips, Abigail said, "He is my friend! Aren't you?"

"Oh, umm…" Derek looked at Jonathan's dark eyes. If for no other reason than to spite the man, he said, "Sure."

The little girl poked her little pink tongue out at Jonathan then looked back at Derek. "What's your name?"

"Derek."

"I'm Abigail."

"It's nice to meet you."

She grinned at him. "It's nice to meet you, too."

Jonathan smirked at him, his usually dull eyes sparkling with something resembling deep malice. "I tried to save you."

"Jonathan?"

Looking over, Derek saw another child.

It was a boy who looked about six years old. His wavy brown hair fell in his face. He looked shy, one of his pudgy hands gripping the carriage wheel.

Looking back at Derek, Jonathan said, "Abigail, why don't you help your friend bring the bags in?" He scooped the boy up easily. "And we'll go inside and see Catherine."

At her sister's name, Abigail looked at him. "Is she still sick?"

"She's sleeping right now. She'll be awake in a few minutes. But she's very tired so be as quiet as you can when you go in the house, all right?"

"I'll be so quiet no one will even know I'm there." Shrugging up her shoulders and looking around, her huge eyes even rounder with bewilderment, she said, "Abigail? There's no Abigail here."

Derek couldn't help but chuckle.

With a final, knowing smirk at Derek, Jonathan carried the small boy up the stairs and into the house.

As he was pulling the third bag off the boot, a rich, deep voice asked, "Need help with those?" The man was tall with dark, wavy hair just like the boy's. He had bright green eyes and an open, friendly smile.

"It's all right, Mr. Smithfield," Derek said.

"Yeah, Daddy," Abigail squeaked, obviously forgetting that she wasn't supposed to be there. "I'm going to help him."

Mr. Smithfield smiled indulgently. "And as helpful as you are, it will go even faster with three of us, won't it?"

"I guess."

"Here you go," Mr. Smithfield said, taking the smallest bag off the boot and handing it to her. "Now that has very important things in it, so be very, very careful when you bring it in."

"I will!" Turning and running up the steps, her black boots thumping loudly on the white boards, Abigail called, "Mommy! I'm helping Daddy bring the luggage in!"

Chuckling again, Derek picked up two of the bags.

"She seems to like you." The man hefted the largest of the bags.

Derek took two others. "She's cute."

Mr. Smithfield nodded. "She'll wear you out if you let her, though. If she does start to get in your way don't mind too much about telling her to leave you alone. I'm sure you have work to be doing and tripping over a little girl isn't going to help it go any faster."

Nodding a little, Derek led the way into the house and up the stairs to the rooms that had been cleaned out for the Smithfield's. He was glad to see the beds were already made and everything was dusted.

When the bags were put away, Mr. Smithfield looked down the hall, concern creasing his brow. "Is Catherine's room up here?"

"Yes. Do you want to see her? She sleeps a lot, but she might be awake now."

"Yes, please."

Walking down the hall to Beth's old bedroom, Derek knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in." Her voice was stronger than it had been the previous day. When Derek opened the door, Catherine was sitting up, smiling. She was ghostly pale, but Atty must have been up to see her because her hair was combed and braided.

"Cathy." Crossing the narrow room with two long strides, Mr. Smithfield embraced his daughter.

She kissed his cheek. "I missed you, Daddy."

Feeling as if he was invading a moment that he was not part of, Derek backed out of the room and went back down the stairs to get the other bags that were waiting in the foyer. When everything was brought up, Derek walked through the hall quietly, not wanting to bother the lively conversation going on in the parlor. As he passed, he glanced in the room.

"Then there was one man who was sitting in front of us and he was making these really loud noises! I thought he was choking! It was the
whole way
!"

Abigail was practically sitting on top of Jonathan, who also had the boy on his lap. He was smiling a little, his features still strained from lack of sleep and worry. The small boy's arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

Sitting on the couch against the far wall, next to Mrs. Worthington, Mrs. Smithfield was still smiling. She looked very tired and like she just wanted something warm to eat and a comfortable bed.

As Derek left through the side door, he found himself feeling a little jealous that he couldn't stay in the house. He liked the Smithfield's already. They seemed warm and kind. Mr. Smithfield reminded him eerily of Mr. Worthington. Thinking of the man who'd cared for him, there was a sharp pain in his chest. He pushed the thought away and turned his mind to other matters.

"Boy."

"Yeah, Devon?" he said, looking back towards the carriage house.