Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
RHETT
I pulled the creaky ladder down from the attic opening. I hadn’t been up in the space yet, but the realtor told me it was packed with old things, items leftover from past owners. The ladder seemed sturdy enough to hold my weight, so I hoisted myself up into the dank, dusty space. Cobwebs grabbed at me from every angle. I pulled the small flashlight out of my pocket and turned it on. The beam of light highlighted a stack of boxes, two old trunks and a dresser that tilted to the side and was missing a bottom drawer.
Before signing the contract, I could have asked Ms. Jensen to have the items removed, but I was interested in finding out more about the history of the house. Now, as I looked at the piles of boxes and the trunks, all thick with dust and webs, I questioned that decision. Just like I questioned my decision to let Ella peruse the items for her story. I’d had no intention of allowing it, but then she poured her soul out to me about her writing career. Something about the story, about her, thawed my usually frozen heart. Maybe there was still a bit of human left inside me after all.
I had to crouch to avoid crowning myself on the rafters. Ella was small enough that she’d be able to navigate the space without bending over. I’d need to bring up a light and drop an extension cord, so she could get to the items. I worried it wasn’t safe up in the attic, and I proved that the next second by turning too quickly, smacking my head. “Damn it.” I reached up to the sore spot that was destined to be a bump. This was starting to feel like a big mistake. No wonder every subsequent owner had left everything stored in the attic. There was no reasonable way to get the items down without a pulley and rope.
I crouched over even farther, wanting to avoid a new bump. The boxes had been labeled with a permanent marker. “Old clothes and shoes.” I doubted there’d be anything of worth in the boxes for her project. That was another source of regret—her project. Did I really need a bunch of online readers hearing about a cursed house in the town of Whisper Cove? I might end up with curious trespassers trying to get a look at the cursed manor. This was a mistake. I’d made a mistake.
I blamed it on those big brown eyes.