Fade to Grey (2 page)

“So much for my hot cup of tea,” he muttered. “At least I still have my boots on.” He took his jacket off the peg and pulled his cap on also. Marching into the night, he noticed the driveway felt a bit rearranged under his boots. Something had dug a shallow trench and he stumbled when he stepped into it. Steadying himself, he walked on, then had to catch himself a second time. Small rocks that had been misplaced caused him to slide a bit when he walked on top of them.

“Strange. Like a buggy or rider has come by at a great rate of speed. Hmm.” He scuffed the loose rocks with the toe of his boot.

He opened the door of the tack room and peered inside. At first nothing looked amiss in the semi-darkness. He saw a lump on the floor behind the cleaning stand. A low moan came from it.

“Aha! A tramp! Trying to get out of the cold night air! I’ll show him the door right fast, I will.” Royce walked up to the pile, nudging it with his boot. The lump moaned again. Putting his lantern closer, Royce thought the tramp might be drunk or sick. He saw a flash of plaid fabric and a smart hat askew on a lady’s head. A tumble of brown hair circled her head, though with her face down, he could not see her clearly.

“My! It’s a lady! It’s not a tramp after all! Here, let me get you upright, miss.” He rolled her to her side, to see if she was hurt or bleeding. Nothing seemed terribly wrong, except that she was on the floor for no discernable reason. She was of average height, and he could feel her womanly curves through her clothing.

“Perhaps you should lay there a minute and get your wind. Have you had a fit? Where did you come from?”

Donna’s eyes fluttered and she saw a babbling man standing over her. First, bewilderment muddled her brain and then fear flooded her senses. Her heartbeat quickened and her muscles tensed. Looking around at the tack room, it seemed familiar at first. Of course! Fallow Field Farms! But why did it look so different? The paint on the walls was a different color. The carousel horse head was missing. And the lights must be off, because the man was holding a lantern. Its flickering flame cast spooky shadows all over the walls. She sat up and brushed her skirts down and smoothed her jacket.

“There now, you look better. Perhaps you tripped. It doesn’t seem as if you’ve had a fit, I’ve seen folks with them and they’re right bad off. Sometimes they swallow their tongues. And they certainly don’t sit up alert,” Royce said.

“Who…who are you?” Donna looked at him quizzically. At least the man was speaking in a calming and moderate tone.

Royce straightened up. “I might ask the same of you. I’m Royce McClarty the stable hand and—”

While he was in mid-sentence, Donna jumped to her feet. She didn’t know who this Royce fellow was and why he was looking at her in such a weird manner. For all she knew, he could be planning to cut her throat. His smooth speech might just be a ruse to lull her into complacency. She dashed past him. As she hoped, her sudden movement caught him by surprise. Before he could gather his wits and straighten up, she was a good six feet from him and heading through the door that led to the stable.

She knew she only had a few moments to flee through the stable and exit through the large double barn doors. This would take her to the driveway and her car. Then hopefully she would be able to jump in and lock the door quickly behind her. Yes, that was a workable plan. Her exit route on the stable floor wasn’t as simple as she thought it would be. It should have been easy; she had walked it countless times before. Yet tonight there was no light and she had to deal with the blasted long skirt continually wrapping around her calves. She could hear horses in their stalls coming to their feet and snorting at the disruption of their sleep. Why were there horses here anyway? This barn should be deserted.

The tack room door snapped back against its hinges with a loud bang. Royce’s heavy steps began pounding along the aisle. She glanced over her shoulder to see the golden glow of his lantern swinging in his hands.

She knew it was just a few more feet to the double doors. If only she could make it, she knew she could throw the bolt open and dash outside. Suddenly, her toe stubbed against something large and immovable. With a thud, she slammed into a pile of feed bags. A puff of dust and oat odors hit her in the face.

Falling forward, she landed on her stomach. Her feet came off the floor for a second and it was impossible to right herself. Shoving in vain with her forearms, she only managed to shove two of the large burlap bags apart and fell deeper into a chasm of feed. Now, she was soundly pinned.

“Now I’ve got you! I should have grabbed you up by the scruff when I first found you on the floor!”

She felt Royce’s hands around her waist. In desperation, she bent her leg and kicked backwards with it, hitting soft flesh.

“Oof!”

Royce’s startled voice told her she had probably landed a boot squarely in his stomach. Good. He released his hold on her and fell backwards. Now was her chance! Shoving with all her might, she heaved off the bags. But as she was getting ready to plant her feet on the floor, she felt her ankle twist a bit.

“Ouch!”

Now she stood hopping on one foot. Royce caught his breath and hauled himself off the floor. There was no way she could flee now.

“I knew it! A person wouldn’t run ‘less they were guilty! You’ve probably robbed a lady in town and stole her clothes!” He grabbed her wrist. “You’re not going anywhere now!”

“You don’t understand!” Donna started to plead. “It’s not what you think!”

“I just bet it’s not! I think it might be best to lock you in one of the horse stalls until I get the constable here in the morning!”

Donna leaned against the feed bags and pried Royce’s hand off her wrist.

“Hey, I could ask the same of you, buddy. How do I know you are who you really say you are?” She bent down to rub her ankle. “Besides, I’m here for the party. I’m a guest this weekend.”

Royce rubbed his stomach.

“Party? Why didn’t you say so? The Brandentons have guests all the time.”

Donna stared at Royce. Perhaps he was one of the Holtzclaw’s other guests, somebody from town she hadn’t met yet. And she had to admire his period costume, even with a sexy leather eye patch; it was pure late eighteen hundreds. And why was he talking about the Brandentons anyway?

“How did you get here? The last train from Chicago ran at four p.m. today because I picked up the guests who rode it. So how did you come to be here?” He had a puzzled look on his face.

“Train? Oh yes, the train.” Donna was beginning to get the feeling that something was very amiss. “No, I—wait, yes, I came by train! The train! It was really full of people. I barely got a seat.” She thought it best to play along until she could figure out…what? Perhaps the Holtzclaws were playing a little game on her. Something that was straight out of the last century. Wouldn’t that be funny? She’d play along until she figured out what the next step was. Now Royce seemed to have a new attitude towards her. At least he let go of her wrist.

“See here, now I want the truth.” Royce became stern again. “I am still not sure who you are and what you are doing here.”

Donna felt a little chill at this statement. She thought he had softened up a bit.

“Exactly how
did
you get here, in this tack room, from the train station? It’s too far for a lady to walk.”

“I came by rental…car.” Donna gulped and decided to tell the truth just to see what happened.

“Did you say rental
cart
?” Now that makes more sense!” Royce’s face crinkled into a grin.

“That happens all the time around here. Somebody misses a connection, either the mail stage run, or the train schedule gets amiss for a cow on the tracks or bad weather. People need to get back to Chicago fast, so they’ll pay a farm boy to run them to the nearest drop off point.”

Donna was glad for the misunderstanding of the word. Car, cart, they were so similar.

“So, Miss, you didn’t say what your name was.”

“Bradenton. Donna Bradenton.” Donna thought it best to give a disarming little smile. Smiling always seemed to smooth things over with just about any faux pas, especially with men.

“All right, Miss Bradenton.” Royce looked around the room. “Where is your luggage, your traveling satchel, or trunks?”

“Lost. Yes, all things were lost between Chicago and Saint Joe.”

“Here, Miss. I have an idea. It’s already night time and you need to get up to the big house and I need to get back to my cottage. Your hosts are probably expecting you and are worried. Stay here for a second, I have an idea.”

Royce left Donna alone in the darkness, as he took off with the lantern. Obviously it never occurred to him that she might be frightened. She was, but just a little bit. It wasn’t so much the darkness, but the location. What on earth had happened? Why had it happened? She hugged herself, not so much to get some feeling in her, but to see if she actually felt anything physically. Surely she wasn’t dreaming, or was she? Why would he want to take her to the big house as he called it? Wouldn’t he want to take her to the Holtzclaws?

As she pondered about her predicament, she realized Royce didn’t understand she was scared. He was used to using a lantern and probably thought this was commonplace to her also. She pinched her arm a little and felt pain, so she knew she wasn’t sleeping. It would be fun to play along with the Hotlzclaw’s Halloween fun. After all, they might be doing it to get her mind off the dreariness that always accompanies sadness and death in any family. It was fun in a way, and now she was beginning to enjoy the prank. It would be just like them to invite some hunky male guest to encourage a little matchmaking between them. It also wouldn’t be the first time they had pulled this trick.

As she heard Royce go out into the stable, she limped slowly back to the tack room. Certainly, she could feel her way a few feet in the darkness to the light switch. She’d just flip it on for a second while he was gone. Then she’d get her bearings and flip it off. It was strange to be in the room that she knew every nook and cranny yet to be in darkness. She listened to hear if his footsteps were coming back, but she heard only the sound of horses stirring and whinnying in their stalls. She realized they probably recognized the presence of Royce. He must be another person the Holtzclaws had hired to help out their son. Anyways, who had put horses back in their stalls? They had been sold when Gran died.

She stretched her hands out in front of her, reaching the far wall and feeling with her fingers towards the door. She felt the cool fall draft coming in through the cracks of the door. Just another foot and she’d feel the light switch! Fumbling cautiously at first, then frantically, she felt nothing – only the boards. Where could it be?

Suddenly, Royce reentered the room, his lantern casting a yellow glow.

“What are you doing, Miss? You should be careful in the dark. I came back as quickly as I could.”

“I was looking for the switch,” Donna said.

“The switch? You mean the switches, crops and buggy whips? They’re on the other wall. You won’t need them anyways, what would you want with a switch?”

“I thought I heard a mouse. It scared me.”

“Oh now, Miss, that makes sense. You know there are always mice around a stable. That’s why we have cats. You’ll be alright. Now if it’s a big fat rat, that’s another story. Here, I’ve brought one of the feed carts. I’ll take you up to the big house. We could walk, but it’s faster for me to load you in the cart and take you. That way you won’t have to limp.”

“Did you say a feed cart? Is it clean?”

“As clean as dry straw can be. If you mean is it a manure cart, of course not!”

“No, no—I didn’t mean that. I just never rode in a feed cart before.”

“I’ve never taken a woman for a ride in one either but I think it’s the fastest and easiest way to get you to the house. Let’s go out the back door. I’ve already taken the cart there.”

Royce crossed the room and opened the door for Donna. She wished she could run her hand down the wall again to find that blasted light switch.

Royce had the cart out front as promised.

“How do you want me to sit?” Suddenly, her long skirts seemed awkward.

“Here, take my hand, I will help you in. I think it best if you sit feet first towards the front. When I lift up the handles you will tip forward a bit. If not it’ll seem as though your head is tipping backwards and I don’t think you’ll find that too comfortable.”

Donna hoisted her skirts, took his large hand and gingerly sat on the edge of the cart. Dusty clover smells filled her nose and made her want to sneeze.

“Thank you for the blanket.”

Royce had carefully folded a large horse blanket for her to sit on.

“Yes, I thought it might cushion you. Now, if you were a plumper lass it might be a different story.”

Donna laughed.

“Here, you’ll have to hold the lantern while I take the handles. There’s no other way. Be careful.”

With this, Donna took the lantern and Royce slowly and gently lifted the handles of the cart as if she weighed no more than a marshmallow. This man was seriously strong! He pushed the wheel out of its spot in the gravel and they were on their way. Normally she would never have gone off with a strange man in Chicago, but this was an unusual circumstance. Besides, he was on the same property and knew all the people she knew.

“How far is it?” Donna asked, though she well knew. Royce didn’t know she had been back and forth between the stable and big house all her life.

“Oh, just a few minutes push, miss.”

As they rounded the corner of the stable, Donna craned her neck to try to catch a glimpse of her Cadillac. But the lantern didn’t throw much light and anyway she knew exactly where it was. She would come back and fetch it later. She snuck a look at Royce as he navigated their path. He was ruggedly handsome and now that they had gotten over their awkward introduction, he was undoubtedly gentlemanly. All in all, she would have told her girlfriends back in Chicago that he was probably a pretty good catch.

Royce took her in a northerly direction, not on the main drive as she thought he would.