Allegheny Hideaway. Kimberly Tanner GordonЧитать онлайн книгу.
outside, he offered information. “This place is just north of town. Not too far from everything, maybe three fourths of a mile. It’s set up on the side of a hill.”
“How big is it?” Iris asked as she climbed into the seat.
“I’ve never actually been inside. But it looks big enough from the road,” he answered honestly.
Tom climbed up and flicked the reins.
As the horses moved, Iris asked, “How did Missus Myers kill her husband?”
“They say she ran him through with a fire poker. Can you imagine? What on earth could have made her so crazy as to go and do something like that?” he asked.
Iris knew all too well why a wife might want to kill her husband. She remained silent for a moment before asking, “Why did she do it?”
“Who knows? Some say she was getting even for something he’d done. Thing is, nobody knows what he did.”
“What did she say at the trial?”
“She said it was self-defense, that he was hurting her, but nobody believed her. We all knew him and we never saw him hurt her. He was a nice man. He went to church and everything. The town hated to hang his wife, but the law is the law,” he concluded.
Iris wiped away a small tear which had escaped from her eye. She turned away so Tom would not see and wonder. Her heart broke for this woman. Iris was glad her story would not turn out the same way. She was even more grateful now that she had left him back in Lexington. Her thoughts were drawn to the present when she noticed that the buggy was slowing down. Iris looked ahead. An older woman, dressed in homespun wool and wrapped in a shawl walked toward them.
Tom smiled. “Good afternoon, Missus Reed,” he greeted politely.
Iris’ mind perked up. Missus Reed? This was Samuel’s grandmother.
“Afternoon, Mister Sellers. Good to see you again,” she greeted in a sweet elderly voice.
“Missus Reed, this is Missus Blackheart. She’s just moved here from Georgia. I’m taking her out to look at the Myers’ place,” he explained.
“Missus Blackheart,” the elder woman acknowledged. “All the way from Georgia, you say? My, my!” The woman looked at Tom and smiled. Then she turned back to Iris. “What brings you here, dear?”
“My health, ma’am. I needed cooler air.”
The old woman nodded her head. “So I hear it is unbearable hot down there. I’ve family in South Carolina myself you see. My son and grandson. My son was just here visiting earlier this month, but he’s gone back home now.” She paused. “Got any children Missus Blackheart?”
Iris quenched the little pain in her heart and pursed her lips together. “No, ma’am.”
“Where’s your husband, dear?” the lady innocently questioned.
“He passed away, ma’am, at sea this past winter.” At least her story was solidifying. Once it was told and retold, the entire town would believe it.
“Oh, that’s too bad. My husband passed away years ago, but I haven’t quit looking for another. Neither should you. Mister Sellers here is a good catch,” the lady said with a wink.
Iris laughed at the woman. She was sure full of questions and opinions.
Tom coughed. “Missus Reed, when are you going to stop trying to set me up with a wife? You know I don’t want to be tied down. I’m still holding out for you!” he teased.
“Oh go on now,” the grandmother giggled. “Missus Blackheart, it was nice to meet you.”
Iris nodded.
“Good day, ma’am,” Tom spoke before starting the team again.
Missus Reed resumed her walk.
After going on a bit, Tom turned to Iris. “You’ll have to excuse what she said. She’s been trying to find me a wife for ten years now. Please don’t feel threatened by me. Besides, I’m leaving in the morning and won’t be back for another month.”
“You are? Well, it’s of no consequence anyway. I’ve no intentions of remarrying. Ever,” she stated boldly.
This intrigued him. Most young women were anxious to marry. “Why not?” Tom asked.
“I have my reasons, sir. Are we close to the house yet?”
Tom ignored her. “Don’t you want children? Every other woman I’ve ever met, your age, wants a husband and children.” Mothers had been tossing their daughters at him since he was twenty. He was so tired of it.
Iris bit her lower lip until it hurt. She closed her eyes to fight back the memory of her unborn child. “No Mister Sellers, no children for me,” she finally answered with as steady a voice as she could muster.
“Hmm,” was all that he said.
They were in town now. Tom spoke greetings to a few people he knew before turning the buggy onto a small road that lead north from town. It meandered around a steep hill before opening up to more level ground.
“Where does this road go to?” Iris asked.
“There’s a small village about fifteen miles north. If you keep following the road though, it will lead you all the way to New York state, to a town called Elmira.”
“New York? Goodness!”
After half a mile more, Tom informed his passenger that the house was just ahead. Iris strained to see it. The white washed home was set back off the road, up against a hill. It was two stories, with a slender front porch. Several boards were missing, and the entire structure needed care. The glass window in the upper room was broken out. Leaves and limbs littered the yard from years of neglect. Tom pulled the wagon into the yard and offered his hand to Iris.
“Dare we go in?” she asked him.
“I guess we could,” he answered.
“Who owns it now?”
Tom responded, “I think it went to Mister Myer’s brother in Harrisburg. He’s had it for sale ever since the funeral.”
“Is it really haunted?” Iris questioned skeptically.
“I don’t know,” Tom answered, stepping onto the porch. The floorboards squeaked beneath his boots. A chill ran down his spine, but he didn’t tell Missus Blackheart.
A thick layer of dust covered everything inside. All the furniture stood as it did the day of the murder. Tom and Iris carefully wandered around the first floor. There was a large kitchen, a parlor, one bedroom, and a closet beneath the stairs for storage.
“It’s spooky in here,” Tom confessed his fear.
“It’s just unkempt,” Iris assured him. “I’m going to look upstairs.” She took the steps carefully, making sure the boards would hold her. She reached the top without incident. “There are four rooms up here,” she called out to Tom.
“They say she killed him in their bedroom,” Tom warned her. He came up the stairs too, warily.
Iris boldly opened each door in turn. One was undoubtedly the master bedroom, the other was tastefully done as a guest room. The third was set up as a nursery, and the fourth was used for storage. None of the rooms were remarkably large, but they would nicely suit her purpose as a boarding house.
“I’ll take it,” she declared to an astonished Tom at the top of the landing.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” he questioned.
“Yes. I want to open a boarding house and this will be perfect,” she told him.
“You’re crazy!” he stated, turning to go back down the steps.
Iris