“Chamomile,” he says, sitting on the edge of the low coffee table across from me. “It should help to calm your nerves.”
I nod, taking a cautious sip so as not to burn my tongue. I feel the warmth spread through me immediately, chasing away the chill and steadying my racing heart. When I look up from the cup, Ichabod is studying me intently.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
The little flat suddenly seems very hot. Looking into those intense grey eyes, holding the warming tea and hearing the gentle crackle of his fireplace, I start to feel as if I’ve overreacted a bit. After all, what had actually happened? I’d gotten a bit spooked by the dark and the fog and tripped over the edge of the pavement.
My face flushes with embarrassment. He must think I’m an idiot.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m not really sure how I tripped over the pavement, to be honest. I’m not usually this clumsy, I swear.” I realise I’m rambling. “Thank you for catching me.” I place the cup down to balance it on my knee.
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It was my pleasure.” But his expression turns serious. “It looked like you were running from… something?”
Oh god, what must I have looked like? Stumbling backwards because I was too busy looking for an imaginary horse in the dark. And then being helped into his house, shaking like I’ve been chased down by a pack of wolves. He’s made mechamomile tea, for Christ’s sake. I most definitely feel like this whole thing has been one massive overreaction now.
“Oh, no, I think I just got a bit freaked out by the shadows,” I chuckle, trying to cover how mortified I currently feel.
Ichabod says nothing at first. Then he reaches for my hand. His touch feels grounding, steady.
“It’s all right, Katrina,” he says softly. “You can tell me. What did you see?”
“I…” I pause. I didn’t see anything, did I? I thought I heard a horse, and for a split second, I thought I might have seen one. But when I looked around, there was nothing there. It must have been a trick of the light, brought on by me already feeling so on edge. The mist had made it difficult to see beyond my own nose.
“What do you mean? I didn’t see anything.”
What does hethinkI saw?
“I thought I heard… something. Maybe hooves?” I continue, glancing up at him. “But when I looked, there was nothing there.”
He leans back slightly and draws a deep breath. “You don’t have to second-guess yourself, Katrina. It’s real. You’re not going crazy.”
There’s something in his voice that makes my stomach clench.
“What are you talking about?” I ask carefully.
He squeezes my hand ever so slightly. “I know you saw the Horseman.”
I blink.
“Saw the… what?”
A laugh bubbles up in my throat. He’s joking. Surely, he’s got to be joking.
But the look on his face tells me he isn’t, and I quickly cough to hide my laughter.
“I think I saw him the other night too,” he continues. “The Headless Horseman isn’t just a Sleepy Hollow legend, Kat. He’s real. And I think he’s back.”
I stare at him. The little room feels too hot again, like it’s pressing in on me.
“You’re serious?” I ask. “Ichabod, this doesn’t make any sense. A ghost? Risen from the dead and beheading people from his horse?” I try to keep my voice light, but it comes out strained.
“Yes.” He hesitates, his sharp eyes searching mine. “I grew up in this town, I’ve always known the story, but recently, thingshere have changed.” He exhales, his shoulders dropping slightly. “I’ve been researching him and it all fits, especially with the two recent deaths.”
“The doctor and the lawyer,” I murmur.
He nods grimly. “Both beheaded, just like the legend says.”
I don’t know what to say. At the time, I did think I saw a horse and its rider, if only for a second. But here in this warm, cosy room, it seems so unlikely. I thought I had heard hooves but now I can’t be so certain. If I had seen something, it definitely hadn’t been real enough to touch, just a whisper of a thing in the mist.
