Heir of Earth (Forgotten Gods) (24 page)

I had one more encounter with Dayne DeLaney before the accident.

In the days that followed his rejection at the barn that morning, I dared him to approach me. In my mind, I planned all the horrible things I would say to him—how selfish and arrogant and down right heartless he was to play with my feelings the way he had. Or suggest he see a doctor for the bi-polar disorder he obviously suffered from.

I thought about threatening to expose his secrets to everyone, but then I remembered that he hadn’t actually admitted to anything and proving my theories would only point fingers at me.

All week, I waited to tear into him.

I never got the chance. The days rolled into a week, my anger waned, and I found myself wishing he would just look at me.

He never did.

We were at the tavern one evening. Rose hadn’t felt like cooking dinner after a busy day at the bakery, so we walked the short distance to the tavern. I was excited to see April there with Norah and Alana. I had been in such a fog the last week I really hadn’t seen them at all.

“There you are!” April greeted me with a big hug. “Where have you been? Rose said you weren’t feeling well.”

“Yeah, I pulled my back riding or something. I just haven’t really felt like doing much,” I lied. Of course I felt fine physically, but how could I tell them what was going on when I had kept the truth of that night from everyone? I was used to keeping it all in anyway.

“So, did you hear about Lucas and Ashley?” She said as she tilted her head and rolled her eyes to the left, hiding her face with her hair.

I followed her eye-roll to a table in the corner. A girl sat on Lucas’ lap, playing with his hair as she chatted and laughed. He rested a hand on her knee, but he didn’t seem to be listening to her. He cast a sideways glance our way, then quickly refocused on Ashley, suddenly becoming very interested in her story when he saw us looking their way. I still saw Lucas everyday at the barn, but he hadn’t spoken to me since the morning my life had fallen apart.

“You aren’t mad at Ashley, are you?” Alana asked as if she were concerned for my feelings. I knew she was really looking for juicy gossip.

“Why would I be mad? Lucas and I are just friends.” I hoped I was convincing. The truth was I had thought about Lucas more than once in the past week. He was the only one that knew my secret, and apparently he was keeping it for me. I wanted to talk to him again more than anything. There was something about Lucas that always put my mind at ease, but he had been avoiding me, too.

I plucked and pulled insistently at my fingernails, disengaging from the group long enough for the topic of conversation to turn somewhere else.

“I need to go shopping,” Norah said absently, changing the topic of conversation. “I want to find the perfect outfit for the Summer Solstice Festival next week.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot that’s next weekend. What are you thinking you’ll dress up as?” Alana asked.

“I don’t know. I really want to do like a cool version of a fairy. I know it’s totally played out, so I was thinking I would go totally Tinkerbelle with like a short green dress and these gold sequined heels I saw.” Norah was definitely the most style conscious of the group.

“You just want to wear a short dress so you can show off your legs,” Alana accused.

“Use it while you got it!” Norah retorted with a laugh.

I had now moved on to readjusting my necklace, still wanting to keep myself out of the conversation, even though I did love the fun of dressing up.

“Cool necklace!” Norah grabbed my locket and began to inspect it. “Where did you get it?”

“I don’t really know. I’ve had it since I was a baby.”

“It looks old, like an antique or something. You want to sell it? I’d buy it from you,” she offered.

“No. I can’t. It’s from my mother.” I said with a shrug.

“Family heirloom?” She guessed.

“I don’t really know.” I looked down at it, lying in her palm.

“How could you not know something like that?” Alana asked, picking up on the fact that there was a story behind my words.

“I’m adopted, but my birth mother insisted my parents keep this locket for me,” I shrugged in a disinterested way. It wasn’t that talking about my adoption bothered me. It just wasn’t really a part of my consciousness.

“You’re adopted?” Alana’s shocked voice was so loud that I was sure she had attracted the attention of the tables around us. I looked to my left and saw that Dayne was sitting one table over. I hadn’t noticed him when I had sat down. He stared absently at his plate, not moving a muscle as he leaned toward our table, listening in on our conversation.

“Yeah. It’s not that unusual.” I tried to dismiss the uncertainty of my birth. The uncomfortable direction the conversation was turning caused me to tear at my fingernails with renewed resolve. With Dayne’s ears just inches away, I contemplated crawling under the table to avoid the conversation. That wasn’t an option

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. You just look so Irish. I can’t imagine Rose and Phin aren’t your family,” Alana said.

“Well, I am. My birth parents were Irish. They immigrated right before I was born.” I was sick of this conversation and wanted it to be over. “They couldn’t take care of me so they put me up for adoption.” I turned so that I faced Alana. “Rose and Phin
are
my family.” I gave her a glare worthy of a mafia kingpin to be sure she knew the topic was no longer open for discussion.

“It’s really beautiful.” Norah looked at the necklace and gave me a smile.

They continued to chatter about the Summer Solstice Festival, and I felt the tingle of annoyance that had raised in me fade away. I glanced over at the corner again just in time to see Lucas look away.

The weight of Dayne’s glare burned into me and with the fire of my earlier attack still heating my blood I turned to face it head on. My gaze refused to waver, no longer hypnotized by his attentions, but burning with determined indifference instead.
  He stood up, kicking his chair back so violently it hit the floor with a thud that earned the attention of half the diners. He left an untouched plate of food and a wad of money on the table as he stalked away.

“What was that all about?” April stared in disbelief as he left the tavern.

“You were right about him. He really is a jerk.” The girls looked at me when they heard the strength of my words, welcoming me into the club. I hated the words as soon as they left my lips, knowing it was a lie. At that point, I would have walked down the street naked if it would give me another chance with him.

That fateful day started
as normally as any other. I agreed to take Lucas’ afternoon feeding shift, thinking maybe it was a way to get back in his good graces. As he left that morning I overheard Phin teasing him about having a date with his girlfriend and wanted to vomit.

After a long day of riding, I was quite exhausted as I pulled the heavy wheelbarrow of grain down the aisle, depositing scoops in each bucket as I went. Every horse greeted me with an excited nicker at their stall door, every horse except LeSheen. His stall was empty. The door that opened to his private paddock hung open and I heard him munching hay from the manger on the other side of the stall wall. It was the perfect opportunity. I slid in quietly, dropped the grain in his bucket and got out as quickly as I could.

“Ready to go?” Phin turned out the lights and we left for home.

When we arrived at the barn
the next morning, Lucas was at my window before the truck was in park.

“Where’s LeSheen?” He demanded, panic clear on his face.

“What? Why are you asking me? You know I don’t go anywhere near that horse.” It was too early for this kind of interrogation.

“What’s going on, Lucas?” Concern deepened Phin’s usually playful voice.

“LeSheen’s gone. He’s not in his stall or in his paddock.” Phin immediately started running to the barn as fast as his limp would let him.

I followed behind them, thinking back to yesterday and trying to recall when I had last seen LeSheen.

We arrived at his empty stall where the grain I had deposited in his bucket last night lay untouched. We ran out the little door to his paddock where an uneaten hay bale filled the manger hanging against the barn wall.

My eyes searched the fence of the tiny paddock and I felt like I was going to throw up when I saw the exterior gate that led out to the unsecured courtyard in front of the barn hanging wide open. A set of big hoof prints led through the muddy stable yard and out into the woods.

Fear washed over me. LeSheen was gone.

“When did you see him last?” Phin demanded

“Last night when I was feeding.” The words tumbled from my mouth obediently as I tried to remember everything I had done the afternoon before.

“You saw him? In his stall?” He asked

“Well, no. I didn’t see him. It was dark. I heard him eating hay in his paddock when I put the grain in his bucket. That gate is never open.” I pointed at the opened gate and shook my head trying to defend my actions, but knowing it was my fault. I sank down and sat on the mounting block beside me while my brain registered what I had done. “I didn’t think to check.” I offered, knowing it wasn’t solving anything.

“Okay,” Phin tried to calm the situation. “I’m sure he’s on the grounds somewhere. Lucas, take a truck and start out to the eastern fields.” He thought a little longer. “I guess I have to call Mr. Dayne.” My heart sunk in my chest.

I felt like a criminal on trial standing outside his office. Phin had just hung up after a hushed and hurried conversation when Dayne came running into the barn.

“What happened?” He roared down the aisle as soon as he saw us. I was thankful for Phin’s protection against the storm raging in his eyes.

“LeSheen got out of his stall last night. We need to split up and look for him,” Phin answered. “Will you take the western fields?”

“Who had the last shift yesterday?” Dayne demanded.

Phin didn’t answer.

“I did.” I couldn’t look at him when I answered. My voice was as small as I felt. Of course I hated that horse, but I would never do anything to harm him.

Dayne grabbed a halter and lead rope from the rack. He opened the first stall he came to, threw the halter on the startled occupant, tied the lead rope into reins and galloped out of the barn towards the western fields.

“Take the north?” Phin said to me. “I’ll take the truck south.”

I walked to the rack of halters, trying to think quickly through which horse I should take.

“Faye, don’t approach him if you find him. He’s more dangerous on the loose than he ever was in here. Take this.” Phin put a two-way radio in my hand.

“Ok.” I grabbed Sterling and thundered out to the northern fields.

I searched the entire northern corner of the woods and fields of Ennishlough before Phin’s voice came over the radio.

“We’ve found tracks leading out of the west gate. Come quick.” As I heard Phin’s words, dread crept over me. LeSheen was loose now, no longer protected by the safety of Ennishlough’s white walls. He was loose, and, if he wasn’t hurt, he was sure to hurt someone.

Phin and Lucas were about a mile outside of the gate, searching for the practically invisible hoof prints in the thick green grass. I pulled Sterling to a halt and jumped down to help.

“Where’s Dayne?” I asked. Lucas shot me a disgusted look from where he crawled along the green ground searching for tracks. I wasn’t sure if it was for asking about Dayne or for losing the horse.

“Up ahead, he’s riding out on the trail they take sometimes, told us to try and trace the tracks. Here’s one.” Phin squatted beside the slight indention in the grass, leaning heavily on the cane in his hand. Lucas crawled over for a closer look, his hands and knees soaking wet from the damp morning dew.

“It’s heading that way,” Lucas pointed ahead.

“Faye?” Phin nodded in the direction of Lucas’ hand.

“Yeah.” My knees were weak as Lucas gave me a leg up onto Sterling’s bare back. With trembling hands I gathered my reins and spurred him on.

I cantered off over the hill, the forceful winds off the Atlantic stinging my eyes and causing Sterling to shift under me. To my shock and horror, the field disappeared at a cliff not 20 yards over the crest. Dayne was dismounted and standing beside the cliff’s edge, staring down. The winds launched the ocean’s spray high into the soft morning as the waves broke furiously on the rocky shore below. Dayne’s hair was tangled in knots, swept in all directions by the salty drops pelting him like a rain shower.