An Ordinary Fairy (46 page)

In a silent ceremony, Willow spread the flowers on the ground at the spot where Daisy died. She kept one and carried it as they hurried to the shed. They loaded the Gator with food and mineral blocks for the deer. Willow carried the hundred pound feed bags down from the upper level while Noah topped off the gas and filled two five gallon buckets with water.

“You drive,” Willow said when the last bag was loaded.

Noah grinned. “Thanks.”

Willow offered a begrudging smile and Noah felt her tension ease somewhat. “Only because I need to keep my hands free to call the animals.”

They returned briefly to the cottage, where Shadow would need to stay, lest he disturb the deer as they gathered. At Noah’s insistence, Willow packed some fruit and snacks they could eat on the move, and a bottle of water. He made sure she included some Snickers.

They headed for the south end of the property via the main trail. Their hastily developed plan was to travel to the farthest southern border and work back to the north, drawing the deer along as they drove a zigzag pattern across the property. Noah thought the animals would be safest in the unpicked cornfields north of the woods.

Just before reaching the rock ravine, Noah slowed to a stop and shut off the Gator. Willow clasped the single remaining daisy and took Noah’s hand. They walked in silence through the woods to the beech tree. When they reached the spot, Willow knelt and placed the flower on top of the mounded earth. She pressed her hand to the ground and held it there for a few moments. “This is perfect,” she said. “Daisy’s spirit will like it here.” She stood and took Noah’s hand, and they hurried back to the Gator.

In less than five minutes, they reached the southeast corner of the property, where the trail ended at the Jones family cemetery. Typical of the Midwest, a low wrought iron fence surrounded the weatherworn tombstones and hickory trees.

So quiet. There are energies about, but barely moving.

Willow felt nothing apparently, except eagerness to move on.

“Go west a couple of hundred yards,” Willow said, pointing. “Straight overland.” Noah nodded and started off through the trees, forging his own path through the undergrowth.

After traversing several small gullies, Willow signaled a stop in a small clearing. She jumped out, extended her arm straight before her, palm pointed out, and turned slowly in a complete circle. She dropped her hand and breathed deeply.

“There are some deer nearby,” she said, pointing south. “That way.”

After what seemed a long time, Willow pointed again to the southwest, where her sharp ears picked up movement in the brush. Two does appeared and cautiously approached the Gator.

“It’s Violet and Iris,” Willow said. The deer seemed to relax when they saw Willow, and they moved faster. Willow pointed her upraised hand at them and they stopped, tails flipping up in alarm.

“Take off,” Willow said. “They’ll follow. No need to poke around.”

I’m living in a fairy tale: the Pied Piper.

Noah gunned the Gator ahead through the brush. The deer leaped after them and then led for several hundred feet, halting a few yards ahead when Willow signaled Noah to stop.

They moved throughout the property for hours, gathering one deer here and two there as they swept back and forth, east to west, working their way north. Willow ripped open the feedbags and handfed the deer to cement their interest, calling each creature by name. Each time a new animal joined the menagerie, Noah sensed an increase in Willow’s power, a billowing cloud of her energy.

Noah remained seated on the Gator. They found early on that he spooked the deer if he walked about, especially the bucks. A cold breeze came up, and Noah wished he had his stocking cap.

At a stop near the pond, Noah admired the enchanted scene: his beautiful little fairy, moving quietly about the herd, speaking soft reassurances as they ate from her hand. Noah loved animals, and fully supported protecting the deer, but Willow’s feelings for them were strange to him. A deep love, a kinship, he thought, flowed between fairy and wildlife. Noah couldn’t identify the sensation, until words his sister had once said came back to him.

“Noah, having children completes you. You have parents, or guardians at least, as you grow, and then you find a mate and you think you’re fulfilled. But children make you perfect, finished. They sign the painting of your life with their own hand.”

Noah sighed. Willow looked up at him, questioning.

Now I truly know your longing.

The sun kissed the western horizon as the Gator sped south across the fields, headed back to the woods. The deer munched on piles of feed in a cornfield just north of the property, safely away from the trees. Noah had counted forty-one animals, roughly, since the rows of dried corn hid them. They would be safe here for a few days until the field was harvested. Noah sensed Willow’s heart was lighter, but still burdened.

“Those deer are going to eat more than just the feed, you know,” Noah said. “And we knocked down a lot of corn getting them to the middle. You should probably offer to pay the farmer for damages when this is all over.”

For the first time all day, Noah sensed humor in Willow. Her features relaxed into a smile. “No, I won’t,” she said. Her grin broadened, became wicked. “It’s Chester’s field.”

They returned the Gator to the shed and secured the building. As Noah clicked the padlock closed, Willow spoke.

“I know it’s nearly dark, but could we go for a walk?”

“Sure,” Noah said.

Something’s on your mind. Words need saying.

They strolled hand in hand down the path to the pond. Noah was on alert, feeling unseen eyes on them. The breeze had died and most birds were gone for the winter or roosted for the night. Time suspended in the brief transition from day to night; quiet reigned, which calmed Noah’s fears.

They reached the pond and walked onto the rock ledge, breathing deeply of the scents of wood and water. Dark blue sky colored the dead calm surface of the water. Noah pulled Willow close and they kissed. She felt good in his arms.

What’s troubling you, my love?

Willow’s disquiet had grown as they drew near the pond. She pulled away and looked up at Noah, her face all worry. “Noah, do you have to leave on the first? Could you stay longer? I don’t think I can deal with all this stuff by myself.”

Noah hesitated. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Not that you can’t take care of yourself, but I don’t like the thought of you being alone with Jones on the loose.”

“I wouldn’t be concerned if you weren’t leaving in four days. This won’t resolve that fast. It could drag on for months. I feel like a prisoner on my own property.” Willow tried to look into his eyes, but guilt led them away toward the pond. “I need you, Noah.”

“I could spend a few more days. We could maybe reschedule the Louisiana trip out a week or two.” He returned his eyes to the sweet face of his lover.

How can I stay, yet how can I tell you no?

“Willow, I have a contract with the magazine. I travel a lot.”

Willow’s expression didn’t change but her disappointment couldn’t be hidden. “Is that what happened to your other relationships?”

Caught.

Noah hung his head. “Yes. I like to think it wasn’t but I know better. My last relationship ended when I came home early from a trip and caught her in bed with someone else. How can I blame her? I was never home.” He raised his eyes to look at Willow’s face. “I love you, Willow. I’m sorry I can’t—”

She laid a hand on his lips. “It’s alright. I know you love me, but I know you love your work, too. I hear how often your phone rings. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Noah nodded. “Yes, you should have. I want to stay, but I can’t.”

They stood silent for a few moments.

“Noah, I don’t want you to stay because I’m in trouble. I just want you to stay.”

Noah took her in his arms and they held each other for a long time, gently swaying. Noah’s eyes filled with tears. He stroked Willow’s cheek and found it wet. She pulled away, wiping tears from her face. She looked surprised to see Noah’s tears and wiped them away.

“I’m sorry I made you cry,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes again. Noah laughed and shook her playfully.

“Stop, stop! We’re going to hurt ourselves.”

Willow laughed. “Aren’t we a happy pair,” she said, wiping her eyes again.

“I’m happy,” Noah said.

“Me, too.” Willow rubbed her hands up and down his chest. “Noah, I think we should go back to the Big House tonight, right now, and look for a way into the cave again. Jones has been there, might be there now. We’ve got to get to the cave before he does.”

“And before he does any more violence,” Noah said.

I wish I had some sort of weapon.

Twenty-Three

T
hey returned to the cottage so Willow could wink unobserved by hostile eyes. Noah made her promise to approach the Big House with caution, and to flee at any sign that Jones was in the mansion. He opened the door and the gate and stepped out for a moment to allow Willow time to exit. Shadow darted out as well. He would be their alarm if Jones appeared outside the house while they searched.

Willow laid an invisible hand on Noah’s arm. “See you there.” Her footsteps sounded for a few seconds and then stopped. The quiet buzz of stealth flight started, then faded away overhead.

Noah walked first to the truck to pick up some things to help with their exploration, as well as his smaller digital camera. He picked his way quietly along the path in the near darkness, preferring not to use a flashlight. Fortunately, Shadow led. When he reached the Big House, Willow spoke softly from somewhere as he climbed the porch stairs. “I’m here. There’s no sign of Jones.” Shadow plopped down on the porch, panting heavily.

Noah unlocked the door and walked in, paused while Willow came in, and then closed and secured the door again. Willow reappeared by the wall switch and turned on the atrium lights. “Maybe the light will keep Chester away. Is that your dowsing rods?” She pointed at the large flat box Noah held.

“Yes. I should have listened to you the last time we came. We probably know where the entrance is located. Especially you, since you’ve spent so much time here. We can’t see it because we’re blinded by what’s right in front of our eyes, if you know what I mean. Maybe dowsing will help dig it out. This will, too.” Noah held up a tape measure. “Sure fire way to find a false wall. I think we should cover the same ground we did last time.” Willow nodded.

The house was cool, but not uncomfortably so. They checked the camera first. To Willow’s disappointment no photos had been taken. They moved on to the kitchen cabinets, but dismissed them again. The window made it obvious no passage could be there.

Willow led Noah across the service hall to the laundry and pantry area. “I think the key is in this room,” Noah said. “The cave is right outside the back wall, according to my dowsing.” A repeat visual inspection still turned up nothing.

“We have to get smart,” Noah said. “The way the closet is situated, it’s impossible to tell if its back wall is thicker than it should be. You can’t see to the back of the closet and have a good reference point to compare.”

Confusion filled Willow’s face. He motioned for her to follow him. “Come over here,” Noah said. He walked to the service hall and stood sideways in the doorway facing the back door of the house. He motioned for Willow to stand in front of him facing the same way. “Straight ahead of us is the back wall, which we know is roughly twelve inches thick. We can see how far we are from it. Now look toward the closet.”

Willow nodded. “I see what you mean. From here you can’t see the back of the closet, so you can’t compare the distances and can’t tell if the wall behind the closet is extra thick.”

“Exactly. So we’ll use an artificial reference point.” He pulled out the tape measure and handed it to Willow. From an inner jacket pocket, he pulled out a small notebook and a pencil. “I’ll scribe since you don’t have your glasses. The tape measure has big numbers so you can read it.” Willow stuck out her tongue. “First, measure the distance from the back door to the edge of this board.” Noah put his toe on a specific board that ran perpendicular through the doorway.

Willow followed his directions and called out the distance. “Fifteen feet, give or take a quarter inch.”

“Call it one hundred eighty inches,” Noah said. He wrote the number down and sketched a quick map of the hallway and room. “The floor boards run perpendicular to the door, so follow the same edge across the room until you’re in front of the closet door, and measure to the back wall of the closet.”

Willow stared at him, unmoving.

“What?” Noah asked.

“I already have sketches.”

Noah couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice. “You do? Of the house?”

Her face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes. I forgot about them until now. Father made a series of sketches and measurements when he had the house rewired and the plumbing rearranged. Do you think they would help?”