Chapter 7. “And ever since that day, our family has been cursed

“A nd ever since that day, our family has been cursed. The Goodes will not let us live in peace. That is why we must find them and put an end to this horror, once and for all.”

Jonathan Fier stopped outside his sister Rachel’s bedroom door to listen. Their father, Ezra, was putting Rachel to bed.

Every night Ezra told his daughter a bedtime story. But instead of reciting a fairy tale, Ezra told her the story of the family curse.

Some bedtime story, Jonathan thought sadly. I am suprised it does not give her nightmares.

“I do not want to go to sleep, Papa,” Rachel said. Please, let me stay up a little longer. It is still light ut.”

“No,” Ezra replied firmly. “Get into bed and stay here this time. I mean it.”

Jonathan smiled as he heard this. Rachel always hated to go to bed before everyone else.

“But Jonathan does not have to go to bed,” she whined.

“Jonathan is almost eighteen and you are a little nine-year-old girl,” said Ezra. “I do not want to hear any more about it. Shut your eyes. Good night.”

Jonathan hurried down the hall before Ezra came out of Rachel’s room. He did not want his father to catch him eavesdropping.

It has been six years since we left Wickham, Jonathan thought. Six years since Abby died. And Papa is more obsessed with the Goodes than ever.

Jonathan ran his index finger along the freshly painted wall of their new house. The third house in six years, Jonathan thought bitterly.

Papa promised this would be the last move. We shall see. Every time we move he says he is positive he has found the Goodes—but still we have not found them yet.

Jonathan started down the stairs, his black shoes loud on the wooden steps. He wore white stockings with the buckled shoes and dark green knee breeches. His shirt was white cotton with a plain ruffle.

His mother no longer made his clothes—she had no need to. All the Fiers had their clothes made by a seamstress now.

The Fiers had grown rich in the last six years. Whenever they moved to a new town, Ezra brought with him some goods—tea, spices, fancy silks—to sell to the townspeople. His instinct for selling was uncanny. In each town Ezra knew exactly what the people would need.

Thanks to his ability, the family was now quite comfortable. But their new wealth had not brought Ezra peace.

As Jonathan reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard a knock at the front door.

“I will answer it, Mama,” he called. He could hear her in the kitchen, unpacking.

Jonathan opened the front door. There stood a very pretty girl who appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen years old.

She had smooth brown hair pulled back into a knot at the nape of her neck. She wore a simple green dress with white ruffles at the neckline and the sleeves. She gazed at Jonathan with lively brown eyes, and smiled.

“Good evening,” said the girl, dropping into a quick curtsy. She held a round dish covered with a cloth in one hand. “My name is Delilah Wilson. I live on the farm down the road.”

“Please come in,” offered Jonathan.

“I know you moved in today, and I thought you might like something more with your supper,” Delilah said. She held out the round dish as she stepped through the doorway. “I have brought you an apple pie.”

Jonathan took the pie and thanked her. It was still warm.

“Please come into the parlor, Miss Wilson,’* he said. “I will tell my mother and father that you are here. I know they would like to meet you.”

He showed Delilah into the parlor and took the pie into the kitchen to his mother.

“How kind of her,” Jane Fier said. “Go get your father. We can have some pie and invite our new neighbor to share it with us.”

Wiping her hands on her apron, she hurried to the parlor to meet Delilah. Jonathan knocked on the door of his father’s study.

“Come in,” his father called gruffly.

Jonathan opened the study door. Most of his father’s books and maps, his business records, and the family Bible were still packed up in crates. Ezra sat at his desk facing the doorway bent over a map.

“What is it?” Ezra demanded impatiently. His black hair was shot through with pewter gray now, and the lines in his face had deepened.

He did not look up from his map of western Massachusetts. Jonathan knew his father was following a new trail that he imagined the Goodes might have taken.

“Papa, a young woman has come to see us. One of our neighbors.”

“So?”

Jonathan cleared his throat. “Well, she would like to meet you.”

“Not just now. I am busy.”

Jonathan stood in the doorway for a moment, unsure of what to do next. The silver pendant his father always wore flashed in the candlelight, the blue stones gleaming. Ezra said, “Close the door behind you.”

Jonathan started into the hall on his way back to the parlor. On his way he heard a light step on the stairs. He glanced up.

Rachel, dressed in a light summer nightgown, was creeping down the steps.

“Rachel!” cried Jonathan. “You heard Papa—”

Rachel raised a finger to her lips to quiet him. “Who is here?” she whispered. “One of our neighbors? I want to meet her!”

“Papa will be very angry—”

But Rachel ignored him. She ran quickly down the stairs and slipped into the parlor, Jonathan right behind her.

His mother was talking to Delilah. When she saw Rachel, Jane Fier opened her eyes wide in astonishment and cried out—

“Abigail!”

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20