Chapter Eleven
Mira
I closed my eyes in anticipation of the softness of Caleb’s lips against mine, but it didn’t happen.
When I opened them, I saw a slight frown flit across his features before he set me back in the passenger’s seat and pulled my dress back over my legs.
Maybe I had misjudged him. My inexperience with men would back that theory.
He threw the truck in drive and turned the radio up until the noise level was almost uncomfortable.
I had done something wrong, that much was clear.
I just didn’t have a guess as to what. He didn’t put his arm across the back of the bench seat as he often did, and I stayed firmly mushed up against the window, drowning in my confusion.
I leaned forward and turned the radio off completely. “What did I do wrong?”
Caleb rubbed his lip with the back of his hand until the rasp of his scruff could be heard. “I found a journal.”
Utterly confused, I asked, “What journal?”
“I wanted answers about what I am, so I searched the old house at the back of my property for anything that would help me. Eli used to live there, so I thought maybe he would’ve left some clues or literature or something.
All I found was a journal. Half the time I couldn’t read his damned writing, but the other half told me enough to scare me off wanting a relationship with anyone. Do you understand?”
“You regret what we just did?”
“Yes.”
The word felt like a slap to my face. “That was my first time…” I sighed and tried again. “That was the first time I had intimacy with a man, Caleb. And now you’re taking it back?”
“I shouldn’t have been your first anything.”
“Why not?”
He hunched like the volume of my words were painful to his ears, but so what? He was breaking me apart right now.
“I can’t have kids, Mira. I can’t do it. They would be like me. You deserve better than a dead end relationship with a monster, okay?”
“I don’t care about that—”
“You will. Someday, if I were to let this go, you’d want a babe at your breast, and I can’t give you that. Not ever.”
My heart was shattering. Was he right? If I let myself love him, really love him, someday I might want a baby who looked like him.
Maybe he was smart to cut us off before we began.
I didn’t know. All I knew was right now his pushing me away was breaking my heart in two.
“Caleb,” I whispered as a warm tear slipped down my cheek.
He leaned forward and turned on the radio again.
****
Clint McCreedy lived just outside of town in the opposite direction of Castle de Fletcher, which gave me just enough time to collect myself and put my game face back on.
Sure, my entire world had turned upside down, but I wasn’t about to let Caleb’s decision to dump me back into the friend zone ruin my life.
If he didn’t want me like that, I wasn’t going to beg for his affection.
As we pulled up to the sprawling, Victorian style home, I tried my best not to gawk. It was light green with white trim and a porch that wrapped around the entirety of the giant home, complete with rocking chairs and an old dog lying on its back with four furry paws flopped into the air.
“Is your dog dead?” I asked, squinting to see if it was breathing.
“He always sleeps like that,” Caleb said as he pulled the truck to a stop by a huge oak tree.
I hopped out before he could make it around to open my door. At the moment, I didn’t want him doing something nice for me. I was still angry about our awkward encounter and uncomfortably silent car ride.
“Come on,” he clipped out as he headed for the house.
I steadied my breath and pressed the wrinkles out of my dress with my shaking hands.
I pulled a modest cotton cardigan I brought with me over my shoulders.
It would be multi-functional in keeping me warm and hiding my scars.
Movement caught my eye. An old wooden swing swayed gently in the cool breeze.
It made me smile to imagine a much younger Sadey and Caleb pushing each other on it.
“You want to take her for a spin?” Caleb asked from right beside me.
He’d startled me, and from the amused look on his face, it was likely what he meant to do. This was his apology, making the effort to ease our discomfort.
“You would make a scary good hunter,” I said of his stealth.
His eyes grew stormy. “Actually, I’ve come to realize I make much better prey.”
His tortured gaze was so familiar. I had seen it reflected in the mirror often enough. The scars that Eli had given him ran much deeper than the visible marks on his skin.
“Push me?” I asked.
He wiped off the seat of the swing with the sleeve of his shirt and leaned against the tree until I situated myself onto it. And then he pushed. We didn’t say anything but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence anymore, and I was thankful that he had moved on from his ambivalence.
The old tree creaked the swing’s rhythm, and I imagined the sound etched into the bones of this place. How many hours had he and his siblings spent swinging here?
As if he could read my thoughts, he said, “My father hung this swing for my mother before any of us were born.”
I slowed and then stopped, hanging onto one of the ropes and twisting to better see his face. He walked around the front, relaxed onto the ropes with his hands, and looked down at me. From this angle, with the sun behind him and the strong lines of his jaw so close, he was utterly consuming.
“What was your mother like?” I asked.
Caleb looked far away, though his eyes stayed on me. “She was smart and funny. I can’t really remember what she looked like anymore if I don’t see her pictures,” he admitted. “In pictures, she looks like Sadey.”
“At least you have pictures of her,” I said, leaning my face against the rope and wishing neither of us had to struggle with such a reality.
“You don’t have pictures of your mom?” he asked seriously.
I shook my head. “When my memory goes, I’ll have nothing left of her.
” I wouldn’t tell him that I wished to forget her already.
It hurt to think about my brightest memories of Mom.
The ones at the end tortured me, and I was better off without them.
That was my secret, and after what happened in the truck, Caleb hadn’t earned it.
“You guys coming in or what?” Sadey yelled from the front porch.
Caleb pulled away and the swing groaned its relief at the release of his weight. “Ready?”
“Nope.” I took his offered hand anyway.
He released my hand when I was safely up and walking, but he placed his hand gently onto the small of my back, and the gesture felt more comforting than I would ever admit to him. I would meet Clinton McCreedy, but at least Caleb would be right behind me.
For the first time in my entire life, I felt safe.
Mr. McCreedy met us at the door and graciously allowed us to pass into the sprawling entryway. Vaulted ceilings and a hanging chandelier that towered over us made the place feel cavernous.
It was hard not to look at Caleb’s father.
He was an imposing man who seemed to take up much more space than he actually did.
He had a presence and a confidence that made me draw up and pay attention to him.
He was tall and thin with dark hair, only just going a regal gray.
His eyes were the same as his son’s, but that’s where their similarities stopped.
“Dad,” Caleb said low, “this is Mira.”
“Hello, Mira,” Mr. McCreedy said, tilting his head. “You are a bit of a living legend around this town. Your reputation precedes you.”
I smiled nervously and remembered that Sadey said to be honest. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too, but I assume your good reputation is deserved.”
“So your reputation isn’t, then?” he asked. His eagle sharp eyes captured me and dared me to look away.
“I’d like to think it isn’t.”
Mr. McCreedy’s eyes narrowed as he studied my appearance. “That’s a lovely dress. I seem to remember giving one similar to my daughter for her birthday.”
“Dad,” Sadey cut in. “You told me to donate what I wasn’t going to wear anymore and that dress is too tight for me on top now.”
Mr. McCreedy looked back at me, and I tried to hide my embarrassment. “You have excellent taste, Mr. McCreedy. This dress is the prettiest thing I have ever worn.”
His look softened. “Let’s eat, shall we?”
Caleb mouthed the words I’m sorry before we made it into the large dining room, but I shook my head demurely.
It wasn’t his fault, and besides, this was going way better than I thought it would.
I had imagined Mr. McCreedy kicking me out before I made it up the front steps, so as far as I was concerned, we were in victory territory.
Brian was already sitting at the dining room table, and as soon as we sat down to eat, two older women in prim, dark suits brought out plates of food and set them in front us.
I tried not to gawk at the whole fish that smelled delicious but looked back at me with an accusing eye.
I pulled my attention to the dinnerware instead and played eeny-meeny-miney-mo as I tried to figure out which fork to use on my meal before it chose to flop off my plate.
“Emily called and said she wouldn’t be able to make it tonight,” Mr. McCreedy said with a calculating look at me as I waffled between forks. “She has two tests tomorrow.”
“She goes to college,” Sadey clarified as she pointed subtly to the correct dining utensil. “Her classes are really hard this semester, and she has to study a lot.”
“Speaking of studying,” Mr. McCreedy said, “are you still homeschooling? I assume that is what your uncle was doing with you before he passed away. Sadey said you haven’t attended public school in years.”
“Oh, yes, sir. I just got my GED. I was supposed to graduate a couple of years ago, but my uncle struggled to keep up with the homeschooling. I am actually in the process of looking for full-time work now,” I said, readying my fork to stab my meal.
Caleb cleared his throat from the seat beside me. “Dad, I actually wanted to speak to you about that.”