Northern Star

Chapter 25

Perry silently tiptoed up the dusty attic steps. Reaching the top, she jerked Hunter's necklace from around her neck as though it were burning her flesh. She threw the shining disc as far into the dark attic as it would sail and had the satisfaction of hearing it hit a wall and fall to the floor. Feeling her way to two large trunks, she slid between them like a frightened child hiding from the world.

She waited, listening for footsteps. Slowly, as the moments ticked by silently, Perry relaxed. Curling her knees to her chin, she wrapped her slender arms around her legs and buried her face in her lap. Emotions churned within her like beans in a coffee grinder, colliding into one another until all were split open and raw. Love and hate ground together with a newfound feeling: passion.

Nothing had felt more wonderful than being in Hunter's arms. The warmth of his mouth exploring hers had been explosive, as were his strong fingers moving over her body, setting a fire wherever they touched. Yet how could she forget the pain that shot through her when he thought he could buy her love?

Ten minutes passed before Perry heard a sound. She lifted her head to listen to the familiar sound of Molly's steps. After pausing to catch her breath, the woman emerged carrying a chubby candle and two steaming mugs.

The candle spread its pathetic light in a small semicircle in front of Molly as the steam from the cups floated the aroma of chocolate in the air.

"Miss Perry," Molly said briskly, "better crawl out of your hole and take one of these mugs of hot chocolate before they burn all the fat off me fingers."

Rising, she joined Molly and accepted the mug gratefully. "Thanks. Did anyone follow you?" Perry didn't even try to hide her tearstained face from Molly's sharp eye.

"Naw," Molly answered. "I sent all them men on a wild-goose chase. It'll cool their blood to tramp around in the rain." Molly took off her multicolored shawl and placed it around Perry's shoulders.

"Now, child, you sit over here and let's have a little talk." She led Perry to a corner of the attic where furniture was stored. Pulling out two paint-chipped chairs, they sat down.

"But, Molly, won't you be cold?" Perry was reluctant to take her shawl.

"No, no." Molly shook her head. "I've got enough meat to warm me through two winters." She patted Perry's knee, thankful that Perry cared about her. She'd seen many a lady take everything that folks did for them as if it were their due. Perry always worried about Molly. The old woman had never had such a love given to her.

"Don't know why you'd come up here," Molly mumbled as she settled into her chair like a hen squatting over a full nest. "This place always smelled funny to me, but I never have been able to figure out why.''

"Probably all these old sea trunks." Perry downed half the dark liquid in the cup and waited for the old woman to speak her mind.

"I saw your man, Hunter," Molly stated, never one to ease into a subject.

"He's not mine," Perry lifted her chin. "I never want to see him again." The words sounded hollow, even to her.

"Do you love him, child?"

"I don't know," Perry whispered, more to herself than to Molly. "I know he's in my thoughts most of the time. But what he feels for me is not love. It's only lust." Her sad brown eyes looked at Molly for an answer.

The old woman drew herself up as straight as a schoolmarm. She thought for a long minute, then replied. "Now listen, dear. I don't know nothin' about books and the like, but you might say this here is my specialty. Love be somethin' that strikes a body now and again, sort of like the flu. Every once in a while someone gets this love illness bad, maybe even till death. Near as I can figure it, not all people got the same amount of love inside 'em. But as far as how you know you really love someone, there's only two tests. If you care more about him than you do yourself, it's love. If he feels the same way about you, then you'll be one of the few people who can tolerate each other through a lifetime." Molly patted her fat knee as though congratulating herself on a fine speech.

Perry decided it was none of her.business, but she had to ask. "Were you ever in love?"

Molly rippled with laughter. "Oh, hell, child, I used to fall in love ever' time I was exposed to the disease." She stared into the darkness as though looking back through time. "But I said there were two tests. The other is time. That was my problem. I'd love some man a powerful lot, and the next thing you know, I couldn't stand the sight of him. It was like that with my first husband."

Perry moved closer to her and put her arm around the old woman's shoulders. "I didn't know you were ever married."

"Oh, sure. I was fifteen the first time. He was twenty and farmed next to my folks. My dad said he took my virginity, so he might as well take me. As I remember, I gave him my virginity, but I was in love, and marryin' sounded good at the time.

"After a year of cookin' and cleanin' his cabin I began to wonder how I'd ever loved him. Everything he did started to bother me, till I thought maybe I was going crazy. I lost a baby that year. The doctor said I wasn't full grown and couldn't carry it. Guess it hurt me inside, 'cause I never got pregnant again. You would have thought I was just a cow that wouldn't give milk, the way he treated me after that. He wanted kids real bad, I guess. He wouldn't even talk to me." The sadness in her voice told Perry how much the loss of a child had hurt her.

"So I just walked out one day, and kept walkin' till I reached Philadelphia. I reckon he must have felt the same way about me, 'cause he didn't follow me."

"But it weren't six months till I fell in love again. This time he was a handsome sailor. He's the one who taught me to cook. He was a mighty good cook, the opposite of my first husband. No two days with him were the same. We did some wild living in those days. Times got bad and he couldn't find a ship to sign on with, so he took it out on me. He'd get drunk and come home. He'd either beat me or rape me pretty near every night. Well, I figured I could do better on my own. Hell, if I'm going to have sex with a drunken brute every night, I might as well get paid for it." Both women laughed, and Molly could see that her chatter had taken Perry's mind off her own problems, as she'd planned.

Molly rose and stood by Perry. "What say we get a good night's sleep and worry about matters of the heart tomorrow?"

"Sounds good." Perry hugged Molly as she stood. She knew it would be hours before she slept, but at least Molly could get some rest. The old woman had cheered her greatly. Sometimes it seemed that people who got knocked down the most in life got back up the quickest. Molly was a fighter and made Perry herself feel stronger.

At the attic stairs Perry halted and turned around. "Wait just a second!" she yelled over her shoulder as she headed in the direction in which she'd thrown Hunter's necklace.

Molly followed, curious as to what Perry could need in the attic. She held the candle high, for she had never ventured into this part of the storage area. Stacks of paper lay between broken furniture and old wicker baskets. "I'm beginning to think Henry and his wife never threw anything away." Molly grumbled as she maneuvered her bulk between the stacks.

Perry could see the glittering gold of Hunter's necklace behind a broken bed frame propped against the far wall. "I threw my necklace over here," she whispered. This part of the attic was a dusty graveyard of abandoned items. A chill ran through her as she moved across the icy floor.

"You be careful, now. Don't want any of this junk tumbling down on us," Molly called as she followed. "I'll have Luke carry out some of this and burn it tomorrow. I won't sleep good knowing all this might fall through the ceiling on me."

Perry reached between the wood slats to retrieve her necklace. Her fingers dangled just above her treasure. "Molly, could you set the candle down a minute and help slide this bed frame out of my way, please?"

"Sure," Molly answered. As they strained to push the frame aside the candle cast shadowy, deformed replicas of the women on the wall behind them. Molly grunted and the frame slowly scraped across the dusty floor. A screeching noise set both women's nerves on edge as they moved the huge oak bed frame.

Perry grabbed the chain tightly into her fist. "Got it," she said, laughing a little nervously.

Molly arched her back and groaned. "Thank God I was never meant to be an ox, even if I look like one." She leaned her back against the attic wall to catch her breath.

Perry glanced at the necklace just as Molly's scream rattled the air. She looked up in time to see Molly's huge body fall backward, disappearing as a panel in the wall gave way. Papers and dusty wicker baskets flew everywhere, cluttering the air and burying Molly completely in useless rubble.

A voice shouted from the heap, "Perry! Perry!"

Perry hurried to Molly's aid, grabbing her fluttering hand and pulling her back to her feet. "Are you all right?" she asked as she dusted off her friend.

"What happened?" Molly asked. Both women turned to examine the fallen wall. It was obvious that this was not a wall at all but only a panel placed to close off a corner of the attic. Long ago someone had sealed off this small attic space and purposefully designed the panels to conceal the existence of the room within.

"Get the candle," Molly whispered to Perry, as if someone might overhear. "Somebody's trying to hide somethin' up here and I aim to find out what it be."

Lifting the candle, Perry moved toward Molly. A flicker of fear flashed in her mind. It might be better to wait until morning, but curiosity, mixed with the adrenaline in her veins, pushed her forward.

Both women stepped together through the opening left by the crumbled panel. A dusty, foul odor surrounded them as they brought their light into the small chamber. Perry held her candle high and the yellow light spread in beams around the room. A modest table and chair stood before them. The spiderwebs were thick, forming a fine, lacy netting over the table. The chair was turned toward the table, away from the women. It seemed occupied with a bundle of dust-covered clothes.

Molly stepped forward first, for a closer examination. Perry glanced around the room, wondering how anyone could leave such clutter behind. Trash lay covering the floor like a thick carpet. Many of the papers looked as if they had been torn from a book years ago.

Perry's gaze fell on Molly in time to watch her face blanch. Her fingertips buried themselves in the candle wax as Molly shattered the ancient air with her scream. Terror seemed to ricochet off the aging walls, disturbing years of quiet neglect.

For several seconds both women stood like statues frozen in time. Slowly Molly's blood returned in abundance to her stout cheeks and her breath came in short puffs, sounding like a small, overworked engine. "Come no closer, child." Molly's order came too late, for Perry moved the few steps to join her.

Perry braced herself for a shock but was unprepared for what she saw. The dark bundle in the chair was not a pile of old clothes at all but the decaying body of a man. The rotting flesh, once wrapped in layers of blankets, now looked with a dead stare up into eternal darkness. Perry found that she couldn't pull her eyes from the face that had once held human life. The skeleton now sat patched together with remaining bits of tissue and muscle. A spider glided along an invisible tightrope from the hair of the corpse to the tabletop.

Feeling a mysterious weight pushing up out of her lungs, Perry stifled her screams. She couldn't get blood and oxygen to her brain, and her mind began to spin. She fought fainting with every ounce of energy she could muster, but her eyes couldn't pull themselves from the ghastly guest before her. After all these years of fear and fighting, Perry now found herself looking at death's face. Here, only a foot away, sat an enemy she had fought all of her life. Here was the face of the shadowy, hideous figure who haunted her dreams and laughed each time someone around her died.

As she stared, a worm crawled out of one eye socket and slithered into the other, curdling her blood with horror.

The candle slid from Perry's grasp. As Molly shouted, the candle splashed into the trash on the floor, splattering fire around both women. Molly scanned the attic for something, anything to slap the fire out as Perry remained hypnotized by the form before her. She didn't notice the fire dancing around her feet but remained motionless until her knees buckled and she fell into total blackness. Neither woman heard three men clambering into the attic.

In seconds Hunter was through the panel opening and beside Perry. With lightning quickness he removed his rain-soaked cape and wrapped it around her. He lifted her into his arms as Abram and Luke began pounding the flames with their wet coats.

Hunter showed little interest in the room. His main concern lay cradled in his arms. "Get out of here, Molly. I've got Perry. They can get the fire out faster if we get out of the way!" he shouted above the noise. He held Perry tightly to him as he waited for Molly to pass through the opening. Flames lashed out at his muddy boots. Molly moved faster than he thought her capable.

He followed the old woman down the stairs and along the hall to Perry's room. Kicking the door wide with his foot, he issued commands to Molly, who was already throwing the bed covers back. "Get some brandy and something for her feet.''

Molly nodded. "There's some downstairs. I'll be right back."

Hunter placed Perry on the white sheets. Her glorious hair spilled over the lacy pillows. For a minute he stared at her loveliness while she lay as if in sleep. In all his life he'd never seen such a wonder of beauty, nor felt such fear when he realized how close he'd come to losing her. Every nerve in his body had felt as if it were exploding when he'd topped the attic stairs minutes ago. From the hall he'd heard Molly's scream and the noise of the panel falling. He had reached the top of the stairs at the same time Perry dropped the candle. His heart nearly stopped as he watched the fire spring up around her, a moment before she crumbled into the flames. Had he been any later, she could have been badly burned or even killed. He tenderly brushed a few strands of hair from her face,, unable to hide his smile at the relief-no, pleasure-that this was a real face and not just a figment of his imagination.

Molly appeared beside him. She shoved a half-filled glass of brandy into his hand and turned her attention to Perry's feet. Though her gown hem was blackened in several spots, her legs did not seemed badly burned. "Hold her head up when you give her a little brandy. She's had quite a shock, but it will bring her around," Molly ordered as she covered Perry's legs with a blanket.

Hunter sat on the edge of the bed, very gently lifting her head. As the warm brandy passed over her lips Perry's eyes opened slightly.

"Molly!" she whispered in fright. "Molly, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, dear. How is the little lady?"

Perry's hand rested on Hunter's chest. In spite of his treatment of her, she felt safe from her nightmares in his arms.

"All you need is some sleep and you'll be good as new in the morning," Molly said as she moved away. She could hear Abram and Luke in the hallway. "I'll go check on the others."

Perry watched Molly disappear into the hallway before closing her eyes. She heard her friend directing Luke and Abram to the kitchen. The brandy had burned its way down her throat, relaxing her from inside. She pushed the horrible vision of the body she'd seen from her mind and relaxed in sleep.

Hunter held her for several minutes, feeling her relax in his arms. He gently laid her back among the pillows and drew the blanket up to her chin. As he moved her arm to put it under the covers, something fell to the floor. Bending, he retrieved his medallion. He smiled to himself as he lifted her hand to his lips. Turning her palm up, he saw the small scar running across her hand and remembered when she'd slashed it to save them. He kissed the scar tenderly, as if to take away the pain. The beautiful woman before him and his angel were one. Placing the gold disc in her hand, he closed her fingers around it. "How could I have been so blind?" he asked himself. "Why could I not see beneath the dirt and old clothes? How could I have ever thought this tiny beauty to be a boy?"

As he kissed her forehead he remembered how a month ago her face had been swollen and blackened. Wrinkling his brow, he realized how badly she must have been hurt the last time he'd seen her. He strode to the door. How could anyone have beaten such a lovely creature? He hurried to find Molly and the answer to his question.