“Well enough. Trapped in his study until the late hours, although that is not unusual.”
Mr. Halton turned to disappear behind a curtain but kept talking, raising his voice higher than needed. “Of course he is. Tell him he shall turn into a phantom if he doesn’t bask in the light of day every once in a while!”
Eleanor laughed heartily. “Yes, well, I will try to tell him that tonight at dinner.”
Opening the curtain with one hand, Mr. Halton returned carrying two loaves of rye on his other arm. His kind, wrinkled eyes looked up at her as he set the bread on the counter between them. “And how are you faring, Ms. Carver?” he asked.
Mr. Halton, along with anyone else who had the pleasure of meeting her uncle, James Carver, knew that he did not have a gentle personality. Quite the opposite, in fact. It wasn’t uncommon for people to cross the street when he approached. Even Mr. Halton didn’t look back kindly on their first meeting. Eleanor was young when she moved to the town to live with her uncle. The desolate cobblestone road weaved through town, passing by wooden houses that, despite their surface level elegance, had a crooked and uneven appearance. Twisted willow trees lined the streets as hanging oil lanterns lit the path. Everything had seemed so magical and almost eerie. Upon her arrival, she had noted that it looked like a long-since forgotten town. When passing Mr. Halton’s bakery, the scent of his pumpkin cake had caught her in its warm embrace, and Eleanor had run inside without a second thought. Her uncle hadkicked up enough of a fuss over the ‘sickly sweet’ smell invading the streets that some of the other bakers had stopped selling cakes for weeks. Though she was not surprised that they had acted thus. She expected it. Her family had founded Autumntun generations ago. What her uncle lacked in political power, he more than made up for in generational wealth.
Lucky enough for the townspeople, her uncle did not oft leave their house. Eleanor, however, was not as fortunate. After seeing her in the bakery, her uncle had scolded her about her weight and eating habits. She could never touch more than the portion of food she was given or any kind of dessert without comments from her uncle about her body, which would only spoil her appetite.
“I am well taken care of, so I harbor no complaints,” she lied as best as she could, even offering a soft smile.
Mr. Halton glanced at her with that knowing gaze of his before shrugging his shoulders in a lighthearted manner. “If only your falsehoods were as pretty as your face,” he jested.
Ignoring his comment, Eleanor placed her coins on the counter. “I will see you soon, Mr. Halton.”
“Yes, yes,” he responded, going back to kneading the dough.
Eleanor spun around and grabbed a basket from the shelf before turning back to the bread. Picking up the two loaves and placing them gently in the basket, she declared, “I will return this upon my next visit.” To which Mr. Halton only nodded his head.
With the basket on her arm, she turned to leave, but as her hands reached the golden knob of the door, the baker spoke up.
“Do be careful, Eleanor. ‘Tis almost sunset. Hurry home.”
Eleanor wanted to roll her eyes. Instead, she turned to look over her shoulder and smiled again. “Yes, Mr. Halton. What else would I be doing?”
Pushing the door open, she walked out, letting it close softly behind her.
Glancing up at the sky, she noted the sun beginning its downfall. She would most likely have less than an hour before the town darkened fully.
She hardly made it ten steps away from the bakery before a familiar voice called out to her.
“Ellen! Ellen!” a woman yelled from behind, the sound of excited footsteps making their way up to her.
Eleanor turned her head to the side to see Penelope, one of her childhood friends, running up beside her. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun and her eyes were wide with delight.
“Penny,” she said to her cheerful friend. “Tis not like you to be out so close to sunset,” she jested.
Penelope laughed softly. Of all the women of Autumntun, Penny took their finishing school teachers’ rules to heart. She was graceful, patient, beautiful, and above all else, believed in the Headless Horseman.
“Well,” Penelope started, “I am actually on my way home. Or at least, I was when I saw you. Your house is on the edge of town. Will you make it in time?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Don’t tell me you still believe in that old legend, do you?”
“Of course I do!” her friend shot back, looking from side to side as if searching for any listening ears. “Don’t speak so loud of the Headless Horseman,” she scolded. “You might summon him. In any case, would you like to come home with me? I fear dark will set in soon.”
“That it will,” Eleanor confirmed. “Still, Hallows Eve has yet to be upon us. It is a few more days away. I would not be breaking the Headless Horseman’s rules, only Mayor Adams’. And it just so happens that I am friends with his daughter, so perhaps I will get a pass.”
Penelope bit her bottom lip, brows knitting together. “You know I won’t tell father. Still, I worry for you. Please,” she begged, “stay inside on Hallows Eve.”
Eleanor nodded her head, casting a kind but knowing glance towards her friend. “I always do. Even if I do not believe in such things, Uncle always keeps the house under lock and key.”
Penelope’s shoulders sagged, her worried expression twisting into one of sadness. “I am sorry you must reside with him. Such a crass and cruel man should never have been entrusted with a child.”
“It is quite alright. I still have a roof over my head and food on the table. You needn’t fret so much over me, and speaking of fretting,” Eleanor stopped walking as she nodded her head up to the darkening sky, “you should be on your way, else Mayor Adams,” she teased, “will keep you under lock and key until the next Hallows Eve.”
Penelope looked up and, once again, her brows furrowed as she groaned. “Ugh, okay, but please get home safe. Until next time, Ellen!” She waved as she spun on her heels, heading back to the mayor’s home.
