Obadiah hummed as though the conversation wasn’t about him at all, his fingers working the winding key of a longcase clock. “He always finds me,” he murmured. “He’s very good at that.” He looked at me and asked, “How’s the tea?”
“Tea is over,” Heathcliff said. “My uncles gets confused easily. Having strangers invite themselves in for tea will only unsettle him.”
“All we wanted was to make sure no one was in trouble,” I said. “We didn’t invite ourselves in.”
“Perhaps not,” said Heathcliff. “But I’m happy to invite youout.”
He turned the old man. “You need to rest, Uncle. It’s time for your nap.”
Obadiah glanced toward a wall of clocks, half of them insisting it was mid-morning, the other half stubbornly chiming midnight. “Is it?” he asked. His fingers hovered over the nearest dial as if the answer might be written there, then he gave a wistful smile. “I’m not sure if it’s ten-thirty in the morning or the midnight hour. I suppose it must be both. Time doesn’t always agree with itself. That’s why I keep so many clocks… I like to hear them argue.”
We didn’t finish the last of the smoky tea before setting the cups carefully on the tray.
As I stood, I said, “It was lovely to meet you, Obadiah. And thank you for the tea. It was delicious.”
“Remember, tomorrow is elderflower infusion.”
“They won’t be here tomorrow, Uncle,” Heathcliff said bluntly before walking us to the door.
On the porch, he paused. “If you hear him again,” he said, eyes fixed on me. “Don’t go looking. I’ll make sure he’s safe.”
Behind him, Obadiah had drifted to the door, his pale eyes restless but clear for an instant. “Mind Winnie’s Wishing Well,” he said softly. “Old wishes don’t stay buried.”
“Uncle, you need to go lie down,” Heathcliff said. With one last turn to us he added, “Thank you for your concern, but this house isn’t meant for visitors. Please don’t come back.”
As the door shut behind us and the ticking dulled to a whisper in the trees, I glanced at Brooks.
“Well,” I said, half smiling. “That wasn’t spooky at all.”
He shot me a look. “You are never dragging me up here again.”
“Tomorrow’s elderflower infusion,” I teased. “We’d be rude to miss it.”
Brooks rolled his eyes and grabbed me by the forearm. “Time to go!”
BROOKS
I have never been sopleased to see civilization in my life—and by civilization, I mean a dirt path that led away from a creepy cottage in the woods that felt like a visit to the other side of sanity.
Cody bounded ahead, smug as a Labrador that had successfully fetched a stick. He whistled—badly, I might add—as though our little excursion had been a carefree nature walk instead of a brush with the kind of eccentricity that makes you question your own grip on reality.
“That was brilliant,” he called back, grinning, momentarily interrupting his own whistling.
“No, that was weird,” I corrected. “And possibly the opening chapter of a true crime novel.”
“You’re exaggerating,” he laughed. “We drank tea with a nice old man. Not a single blood-soaked axe or decapitated head in sight.”
“How do you know there’s not one in the fridge? Did you look? No.”
Cody simply laughed. “Note to self:alwayscheck the fridge in a stranger’s house. You never know what you might find.”
By the time we reached town, my feet had blisters, and my dignity was hanging by a thread.
When we turned a corner and I saw the Book Nook ahead, my entire aching body felt the wave of relief. I yearned for my orderly little universe—my books, my home, my bathtub, even if the plug did slurp and gurgle.
I slowed on the sidewalk, letting my gaze settle on the familiar wood-and-stone structure, the steeple standing solid and mercifully off the damp, uncomfortable earth.
Cody shifted beside me, his hands shoved in his pockets, his sweat-damp hair sticking to his temples. He gave me that maddeningly casual smile. “So… not the worst adventure you’ve ever had, right?”
