Chapter Five.
Rina
I could see Adam watching us from the window, and I saw him blank out.
I knew a memory had hit him, but I didn’t go to check on him.
While not a lip-reader, I’d seen him say Janet’s name several times.
That was still sinking in—Adam had gone to Janet for help.
I honestly hadn’t thought him ready for that. But he had, and that gave me hope.
Callum smacked Xander straight in the face with a snowball, which Xander took offence to. Before Walker or I could stop him, my fiery four-year-old took his older brother down and buried his face in the snow. Zoie huffed next to me as she shook her little head.
“Mom! They ruin everything!” she complained.
“They’re boys, they do that,” I said.
“I don’t like them,” Zoie added.
“Wonder why,” I muttered as Walker headed over to pull them apart.
I shook my head at him, and he stopped. The boys hadn’t fought or played this way for months.
It was a relief to see them act like this.
While I shouldn’t condone their beating the crap out of each other, I was too relieved to complain.
“Mom?”
“Let them fight it out.” I mumbled, “If they get too rough, then we’ll stop them,” to Walker as I walked away towards a snow-covered bench. I brushed the snow off and sat down.
“Dad is watching,” Walker said.
“I know. It’s okay. He’s trying, Walker, he’s getting help,” I murmured.
Walker sent me a surprised look. “He’s doing what?”
“Adam contacted Janet, you know, the therapist.”
“The one that everyone sees. Dad’s talking to her?” Walker sounded stunned.
“Yes. He told me upstairs.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Nope, needless to say, I was a bit shocked.” My gaze roamed the area, and my fingers twitched.
Wow. I actually felt the urge to paint. I hadn’t painted since the war.
My time and effort had been concentrated on Adam.
James had provided me with a studio, and I went there, but I hadn’t been able to paint for ages.
Now, the urge welled inside me, and a new idea was forming.
Walker got up as Xander jumped on Callum’s back to press him deeper into the snow.
I could visualise the series of paintings in my mind’s eye and bit my lip.
Imaging the designs and techniques, I got lost until I was startled from my thoughts.
“Here,” Adam said, and handed me a sketchbook and my box of pencils.
I didn’t reply, already entranced in what I needed to get down.
I began sketching as Adam planted a kiss on my head.
That single action caused me to pause, and Adam smiled at me before limping off to grab Callum as he rammed snow into Xander’s face.
He grabbed the warring boys and hauled them over to a snow drift, where he promptly dropped them both.
“Behave! Your mother is working!” Adam stated and slowly and painfully limped back inside.
Walker stared after him, shocked. It was the first time Adam had actively interacted with the children in months. The snow snagged my attention. It was falling again, and I began sketching in earnest. This was my addiction, and I sank into it in bliss.
Adam
“She’s healing,” a woman’s voice stated.
I turned quickly, too quickly, and my leg began giving way. I caught myself on a chair and managed to sit down before collapsing onto the floor.
“What the hell?” I exclaimed as I saw a faint outline of a woman disappear.
“Are you okay?” Benedict asked me. He was hauling in a load of firewood.
“Yes. Damn, this might make me sound insane, but is this place haunted?”
“What are you seeing?”
“The woman from that portrait,” I replied, feeling foolish.
The hot water bottles had gone cold and were wriggling around, so I unclipped them.
I hoped Benedict didn’t think I was doing anything weird, although by the expression on his face, he did.
Enlightenment dawned when I pulled the first water bottle out of my sweatpants.
“You’re talking about Lady Catherine?”
“Yes, without sounding crazy, I swear I’ve seen her.”
“You probably have. She has haunted this inn since her death a thousand years ago. This was her legacy to us.”
“Your family has owned this that long?” I gasped in surprise.
“Yes, well over a thousand years. Although in Tudor times this underwent a massive reconstruction. But that dining room and this part of the inn are original,” Benedict said as he dumped the wood near the fire with Lady Catherine’s portrait.
“She spoke to me,” I admitted. I was waiting for Benedict to look at me like I was crazy.
“Cat is sentient. By the way, please don’t call her Cat, only I can. Address her as Lady Catherine, as is her right and due. She is legendary amongst my family,” Benedict said as he headed for the bar next. He poured two shots of whiskey, came over, and placed one in front of me.
“A sentient ghost?” I asked, bemused as I sniffed the drink. This was expensive stuff.
“Oh yes. Don’t mock her, ignore her, or be rude.
Cat will take it out of your hide. She married young, as they did in those days, and had twin boys.
Her husband died in a battle far away and left her in charge of the estate and children.
The twins were hellions by all accounts and needed a firm hand.
“Many men thought to marry her and claim the Norton estate, but she held firm. It was hers by right and her sons by birth. She was a distant cousin of the main line and, therefore, was a Norton by birth too. Despite machinations, Cat held onto the estate until her eldest son could inherit, and then she retired here. That caused even more scandal as a woman running a bar was not the done thing. Women shouldn’t have owned property then, but Cat did.
She was the first to expand this inn. A woman with her own mind and bugger any man who told her no. ”
To my surprise, Benedict appeared fond of his ghost. Was I really having a sane conversation about a ghost?
“You’re proud of her?” I asked, lacking anything else to say.
“Hell, yeah. Any woman who bucks what society thinks and stands alone against a tide of disapproval and strong, opinionated men has my respect. My sister CeeCee runs her own life as she sees fit, and still does. Society tried to keep Cee demure and in her place as a mere woman, so CeeCee spat in their eye and went her own way. She’s married to a man who can appreciate that in her,” Benedict said.
“Sometimes, you speak strangely,” I stated, and Benedict laughed.
“Must be the noble blood in me. I can trace my lineage back to the beginning of time itself.” Benedict chuckled and shook his head.
“That must be a real heavy burden,” I said.
“You’ve no idea. My family have a legacy and one we all believe in living up to. It is something we willingly do, but to outsiders, we can imagine how it looks…” Benedict broke off as if he’d said too much. “Forgive me, sometimes I speak without thinking.”
I nodded. This whole place seemed more and more whacked as time marched on, and it was only our first day. Who the hell knew what the next four weeks would bring?
Two days later
“Zoie keeps saying the lady is watching her,” Rina said to me with concern in her voice.
I looked up sharply.
“What?”
“Zoie says some woman is staring at her when she’s asleep.”
“Babe, how can Zoie know if anyone is watching if she’s asleep?”
“Adam, seriously, Zoie is scared.” Rina slapped my arm.
“Want me to have a word with her?”
“Why do you think I’m bringing this to you? Zoie needs her daddy to chase the monster away,” Rina retorted sharply.
“Okay. No different from chasing monsters from under the kid’s beds,” I replied with a grin.
Rina shook her head. “That’s something you’ve not done for eighteen months.”
“It’s not something I’ve forgotten either, Rina. Why don’t you go paint?” I suggested ignoring her bad mood.
It was a relief seeing her temper again. For the last year and a half, Rina had tiptoed around me. Apparently, Rina had decided that I no longer needed mollycoddling. The gloves had come off, and Rina was acting more like her old self.
“Paint?”
“Rina, no offence, babe, but get lost. Go spend some time sketching or doing something for yourself. I’ve arranged to take the kids out on a sleigh ride.”
Rina stared at me as if I’d grown another head. “What?”
“That farmer, Terry, has organised some sleigh rides for the locals, and Mariah booked us in on one. He’s coming here first and then picking up some others.”
“You’ll be okay with the kids?” Rina asked, concern clear in her voice.
“They’re my kids.”
Rina bit her lip, and I could almost read her mind.
Her thoughts were transparent. I hadn’t honestly bothered with the kids since my injury, pulling back from them.
Sure, I’d done things with them, but they’d instigated it.
Rina had been the dominant parent for ages.
It was time I stood up or lost my kids for good. I didn’t want to be my father.
“Have fun,” she said and disappeared upstairs.
Walker and the kids came pounding down the stairs in various states of dress.
“Okay, stop right there, guys!” I ordered. The three younger ones skidded to a halt. Walker had his arms full of clothes.
“Aren’t we going?” Callum asked, his shoulders going back, ready to brace for disappointment.
“Yes, but not like that. Put your boots on, wrap those scarves around your neck. Coats on, gloves and hats!” I said.
I winced as the kids attacked Walker and grabbed various items of clothing. As they stamped into their boots, I caught Walker sending me worried glances. I beckoned him over.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dad, are you sure you want to do this without Mom?” he asked, not holding back. “They’re a handful.”
“I’m aware of what the kids are,” I retorted, but made sure there was no accusation in my reply.
“Are you, Dad?”
“Yes, son. Walker, I know I’ve been distant. I’ve been dealing with a lot.”