an egret’s wings flapped in the distance.
Just as I’d resigned myself to waiting for a tour from Porter, a horse’s neigh drew my attention. I walked off of the back porch and down the steps, headed in the direction of the sound. A song rose from the worn down barn, its baritone comfort caused shivers down my spine as I approached.
“Who is there?” I called out, wanting to meet the owner of such a voice.
I got closer and closer. As I did the song seemed to digress into a solemn cry for pity. It beckoned me like a siren.
“Hello?” I repeated my inquiry, hoping not to have to go into the horse stables with my new clothing and boots on. Porter had gone to a lot of trouble to get me those clothes and I intended on cherishing them.
“Who is it?” The once soulful bellowing now barked at me.
“I am Delilah, Porter’s wife.” I tested my tongue with my teeth after saying such a thing aloud.
“Hold on.” More barking.
I pulled the cloak tighter around myself, the humidity now turning the air colder even with the morning sun coming into her own.
Porter had spoken of a stable boy, but the bass that boasted from the inside of the decrepit barn sounded like no boy I’d ever know. It was more like caramel wrapped in warm honey that reverberated through my chest.
While I waited for the stranger to make his appearance, the wind echoed through the trees. If I didn’t know better, I would think they were whispering secrets to one another in haste.
“I didn’t know I was singing for an audience. I would’ve practiced harder.”
I gasped at the nearness of the voice and to whom it was attached. His breath could be felt on my neck and the warmth caused a shiver to ripple down my back and come to a dead end in my toes. I tucked the shawl around my knuckles and gripped it tight, hoping it would magically turn to steel and form a solid barrier between me and this thief of breath. A necklace hung around his neck and the locket at the bottom of it hung out of his shirt where he’d neglected to button it. As soon as he caught me looking at it, he stuffed it back into his shirt with haste and tended to the forgotten buttons.
In his hands, he dangled a handwritten list of things to get done, one that had nothing crossed off.
“Who—who are you?” I stammered out. The cold of the morning turned my words to tiny clouds that puffed out before me.
“Forgive my manners,” the boy, clad in brown pants and a khaki shirt only halfway tucked beneath worn suspenders said. “I’m Rebel. You must be Porter’s new wife.” I didn’t answer quickly enough for him and so he continued. “No? Another servant like me? It is certainly my lucky day.” With the word lucky, he took the opportunity to close in one more step toward me, but I took the same opportunity to recover the space between us with my own step back.
“I am Porter’s wife.”
He smiled. The corners of his mouth spread so wide that I thought maybe they’d touch his earlobes with little help. “Is that your name then? Porter’s wife.” What was once a polite tone, turned snide and irritated. A fish bubbled the surface of the pond in the distance, but with my senses on high alert, I heard it loud and clear.
“My name is Delilah.”
There was no reply to my sudden firm stance. His left eyebrow pulsed a little at my name but that was the only indication that he’d heard me at all.
“Delilah, huh?” His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. “Well, just so you know, no matter how…” his eyes roamed my form, never halting until they were once again on my face. “…lovely you are or how much you charm me—I’ll never tell you the source of my power. Not even for a touch of those luscious lips.”
My legs threatened to topple. Rebel’s words wove around my core. Curiosity flourished in my veins and though my conscience pulled me away, I stayed, my eyes fixed on his. By mistake, I
Just as I’d resigned myself to waiting for a tour from Porter, a horse’s neigh drew my attention. I walked off of the back porch and down the steps, headed in the direction of the sound. A song rose from the worn down barn, its baritone comfort caused shivers down my spine as I approached.
“Who is there?” I called out, wanting to meet the owner of such a voice.
I got closer and closer. As I did the song seemed to digress into a solemn cry for pity. It beckoned me like a siren.
“Hello?” I repeated my inquiry, hoping not to have to go into the horse stables with my new clothing and boots on. Porter had gone to a lot of trouble to get me those clothes and I intended on cherishing them.
“Who is it?” The once soulful bellowing now barked at me.
“I am Delilah, Porter’s wife.” I tested my tongue with my teeth after saying such a thing aloud.
“Hold on.” More barking.
I pulled the cloak tighter around myself, the humidity now turning the air colder even with the morning sun coming into her own.
Porter had spoken of a stable boy, but the bass that boasted from the inside of the decrepit barn sounded like no boy I’d ever know. It was more like caramel wrapped in warm honey that reverberated through my chest.
While I waited for the stranger to make his appearance, the wind echoed through the trees. If I didn’t know better, I would think they were whispering secrets to one another in haste.
“I didn’t know I was singing for an audience. I would’ve practiced harder.”
I gasped at the nearness of the voice and to whom it was attached. His breath could be felt on my neck and the warmth caused a shiver to ripple down my back and come to a dead end in my toes. I tucked the shawl around my knuckles and gripped it tight, hoping it would magically turn to steel and form a solid barrier between me and this thief of breath. A necklace hung around his neck and the locket at the bottom of it hung out of his shirt where he’d neglected to button it. As soon as he caught me looking at it, he stuffed it back into his shirt with haste and tended to the forgotten buttons.
In his hands, he dangled a handwritten list of things to get done, one that had nothing crossed off.
“Who—who are you?” I stammered out. The cold of the morning turned my words to tiny clouds that puffed out before me.
“Forgive my manners,” the boy, clad in brown pants and a khaki shirt only halfway tucked beneath worn suspenders said. “I’m Rebel. You must be Porter’s new wife.” I didn’t answer quickly enough for him and so he continued. “No? Another servant like me? It is certainly my lucky day.” With the word lucky, he took the opportunity to close in one more step toward me, but I took the same opportunity to recover the space between us with my own step back.
“I am Porter’s wife.”
He smiled. The corners of his mouth spread so wide that I thought maybe they’d touch his earlobes with little help. “Is that your name then? Porter’s wife.” What was once a polite tone, turned snide and irritated. A fish bubbled the surface of the pond in the distance, but with my senses on high alert, I heard it loud and clear.
“My name is Delilah.”
There was no reply to my sudden firm stance. His left eyebrow pulsed a little at my name but that was the only indication that he’d heard me at all.
“Delilah, huh?” His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. “Well, just so you know, no matter how…” his eyes roamed my form, never halting until they were once again on my face. “…lovely you are or how much you charm me—I’ll never tell you the source of my power. Not even for a touch of those luscious lips.”
My legs threatened to topple. Rebel’s words wove around my core. Curiosity flourished in my veins and though my conscience pulled me away, I stayed, my eyes fixed on his. By mistake, I
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