Chapter 2
From the tower, Hugh watched in satisfaction as the people scurried around below. If he had patience, they would soon scurry away. And leave him to find it. He chuckled at the thought.
The child glanced back at him, her pouty mouth accusatory. With her honey-brown curls and hazel eyes, this Mellie could have been Maire’s sister. How often had his own daughter reproached him in just such a manner?
“Do not look at me that way.” Hugh rubbed the sudden ache in his chest.
“Help him,” she demanded.
“That I will not.” He crossed his arms and put on his most imperious stare, the one he had spent most of his life mastering. Servants had cowered before him when he had used it while alive, and run screaming when he had used it as a haunt.
“Then I will.” The child turned back to the rope hanging over the tower and clasped it with her small, thin hands.
“No!” Hugh cried, lunging for her.
Lia
“DON’T YOU DARE CLIMB ON that rope, young lady,” Mom shouted.
“You could fall!” I cried. How had she gotten up there when Ezra couldn’t get the stupid front door open?
“But the man needs help, Mama,” Mellie said, her distress unmistakable.
“Do what your mother says this instant.” Dad’s white face looked as awful as it had the day Phoebe had died.
Mellie’s head disappeared from view. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. Had I imagined the manlike shape pulling her back?
The old pickup truck Coop had helped his mother into skidded to a halt a few feet away. He tore open the door and sprinted under the hanging man.
“Pop, can you hold on?”
“My foot’s caught.” The older man took in a ragged breath.
“I’m sorry, mister.” Mellie’s hands appeared at the top of the rope again. “I’m not strong enough, andhewon’t help.”
“Oh, baby, please stay back.” Mom spoke with forced calm, but her fingers dug into mine where she clutched my arm. “Let us come get you.”
Ezra threw his shoulder even harder against the huge front door, grimacing at the impact with the wood.
“Savages to the rescue,” Eli and Joel cried as they stumbled around the west tower, struggling to carry a long ladder.
Dad and Coop ran to take it from them and set it against the tower. When Coop began to climb up, Ezra moved over to help steady it. Agile for such a big guy, Coop scrambled up the ladder as fast as either of the boys could have. The ladder height let Coop reach his father but not Mellie.
“Mr. Savage, will the front door open yet?” Coop looked down, his voice cool. Calm under pressure. Like he’d been last summer when Taylor had been thrown out of her raft while going over the San Juan rapid. She’d totally freaked, screaming she was drowning, but Coop had dived in and pulled her to shore. I’d been a little jealous.
Closest to the front door now, I twisted the large knob. Nothing happened. I tried again and frowned. It wasn’t just locked. The knob wouldn’t turn at all, almost like someone held it on the other side. I stepped back so I could see Coop and shouted, “It still won’t open.”
“Check all the windows.” Mom motioned to the boys, who hurried to check the ones they could reach, while Coop tried the ones near him. None opened.
“Do I have your permission to break a window?” Coop called.
“Do it.” Dad pulled us back, away from possible falling glass, and gestured for the boys to come too.
Coop waited until we’d moved clear and then kicked through the highest window with his booted foot. He then kicked off the jagged pieces.
“Mommy.” Mellie’s curls appeared at the crenel again, and her little face peeked over the edge. “I want to come down now. I’m hungry.”
She was so tiny. For her to look over the gap on the tower, she had to be standing on something. The same rope that held the platform supporting Mr. Montgomery? In spite of having health problems since her premature birth, Mellie had an adventurous soul. What if she climbed high enough on the crenel to fall? Mom must have had the same thought, because she let out a little sob.
