Page 17 of Destined Chaos
“Don’t kid yourself. I would have totally slipped, eventually. I am that clumsy.” Her gaze drifted to the closed French doors.
I turned, following the direction, and no one was there.
“Why don’t you rest and I’ll see about getting a fire started,” I said, gesturing to the fireplace.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that. This house sat empty for several months.”
“I have it on good authority that a fire will be fine.”
“Right, house whisperer,” she said, putting the champagne bottle back into the tub. “I guess that’s better than ghost whisperer.”
I rose and was headed toward the door when I turned to look at her. “I hear that’s your area of expertise.”
“And how would you know that?”
“Mrs. Weller’s husband was the sheriff. She’d been with her husband the night your grandfather reported that your mom and her sister ran off. Turns out Mrs. Weller and Mr. Slaughter have been friends ever since.”
She frowned. I’d stuck my foot in my mouth again.
“Did he tell her why my mom ran?” Libby asked.
I shrugged. “If he did, she didn’t share it with me. You’ll have to ask her.”
Gathering the wood didn’t take long. There was still a shed full of wood just behind the house. How did I know it was there? The house told me so. I know it’s a weird specialty to have. Where my brother Dexter could use his specialty to mend things, I…
I stepped into the shed and pulled out my phone, dialing Dexter.
“I was wondering when you were going to call me.” Sounds from the intercom at the hospital were heard in the background as he answered with a tired voice.
“Why didn’t you mend her? I mean, she could be walking right now.”
“Well, when I was studying the x-rays, I got a call from our lovely sister, and she told me not to.”
“Clara told you not to fix Libby?” I pressed.
“She specifically told me not to fix her foot.”
My heart tightened at the thought my sister would stoop so low.
“Libby is not the enemy, and even if she doesn’t sell Slaughter House to me, I’ll get it, eventually. I was meant to have this house.”
“Hugh, you sound a little obsessed with the place.”
He was right. This might be my dream property, but this wasn’t the only land on this side of the mountain that would offer what I needed. It was, however, the only one I wanted. Maybe I was pressing too hard. Maybe helping her wasn’t in my best interest. Why was I helping her fix it up when she would just sell it to the investor, anyway?
“Thanks, Dex, I’ll let you know when I bring her back so you can really fix her.”
“Hugh…”
I snapped my phone closed when the moonlight shining in the window was momentarily blocked and the shed turned from just cold to the point of freezing. I could see my own breath.
I didn’t see ghosts like my relatives, but there was something unexplainable going on. I carried the wood into the house. Libby’s eyes were closed, and she was lying on the air mattress with one of my blankets pulled up over her. Soft snores filled the room.
I started the fire and brought in more wood to last the night. The snow started falling harder. With my snow tires, I could get back down the mountain with little problem, but leaving her alone in this house with a broken foot, no water, and no car just didn’t seem right.
I grabbed the second blanket and laid it out on the floor next to her bed and fell asleep to the crackling noise from the wood and the shadows it cast on the ceiling while I let the sounds of this house lull me to sleep.
Dreams filled the sleep.
