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A Sip of You(66)

By:Sorcha Grace


The house was larger than I realized—eight bedrooms and who knew how many bathrooms—and lovely on every floor. When we reached the room that had been William’s, I had to pause and look inside.

“William took most of his things with him to college or put them in storage,” Abigail said as I gazed around the room, which was painted white and styled in a nautical theme with lots of navy blue. It looked like a boy’s room, not stark or minimalist at all. “But he never liked much clutter,” she said.

“I can believe it,” I laughed. I moved toward a wall with several pictures hanging on it. They showed a younger William in cap and gown. “Graduation?” I asked.

“Yes. Top of his class, of course.”

I peered closer. His face was more youthful, but the eyes were the same—haunted and shrouded.

“Catherine,” Abigail said. “I want to say again how very good it is to see you. I can’t tell you the last time I’ve seen William this happy.”

I turned and smiled. “He makes me happy too.”

“I’m so glad he found you. Every time I talk to him, he can’t say enough about how talented you are, how smart, how caring. He goes on and on. I feel as though I know you already.”

I opened my mouth but wasn’t quite certain how to respond. William had said all of that about me? He went on and on about me? I could hardly imagine the man I knew doing that. Finally, I said, “I care a great deal about William.”

Abigail nodded. “I can see that. Be careful with him, Catherine. He has a tender heart and he’s been hurt so many times.”

Again, her words stunned me. A tender heart? And how could I hurt William?

“He carries a heavier burden than most people realize,” she continued. “Wealth like his comes not only with tremendous responsibility, but also with tremendous risk. He’s so driven and strong and accomplished, but he’s had to deny whole parts of himself to make it this far and sometimes it’s been very difficult for him.”

This was not at all what I’d been expecting to hear and my gaze remained riveted on Abigail as she continued to tell me more about William.

“It’s been ugly for all of us at times, but that’s never been his fault. I’ve often worried about the toll it’s taken on him. Mary Alice used to call him her little Romeo. He was this sweet-natured, fearless little boy who’d take on the world just to bring her a pretty flower and make her smile.”

I watched as a faraway look crept into Abigail’s eye after mentioning her sister’s name. She’d lost someone too, and my heart broke for her in the same way it had shattered for William. Then she looked at me and smiled warmly.

“Please excuse me, Catherine. I don’t often speak like this. It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen William let his guard down and it’s wonderful to witness.” She gave me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and I smiled in return. “Let’s see how Annabelle is faring, shall we?” she asked, and we turned to head downstairs and check on dessert.

Holy shit.

***

Still reeling from our talk, I wandered the house and found William and his uncle in the library. As I stepped inside, I heard Charles say, “I don’t understand why you haven’t let George handle it.”

I stopped cold just inside the room. “I’m sorry. Am I intruding?”

William came toward me and slid his arm around my waist. “Not at all.”

“I could help your aunt in the kitchen.”

“Stay,” he said, looking down at me. “You should hear this.”

My heart began to pound. Finally I was going to know exactly what had been going on. The tension in the room was thick. I could feel it as William drew me farther in and seated me next to him on a dark leather couch. The entire library was paneled in dark wood and furnished with heavy pieces. A fire roared in the large fireplace, where Charles leaned against the mantel. William sat beside me, elbows resting on his knees.

“This is simply another hoax and another attempt at extortion,” Charles went on. He had a highball glass in his hand and swirled the amber liquid inside. “Nothing I’ve seen suggests Wyatt is really alive. We’ve been through this, William. Why are you giving it so much credibility?”

I glanced at William and watched as he squared his shoulders and sat up a little straighter. “I was in Whitehorse last week.”

“For God’s sake, why?” Charles sputtered, looking genuinely shocked. “It’s brutal up there this time of year. Why on earth did you go?”

“About three weeks ago, a timber company crew working about thirty miles north of Dawson City found pieces from a plane.”