The Girl in the Window
Read The Girl in the Window Online
Authors: Valerie Douglas
The Girl in the Window
By
Valerie Douglas
Published by the author as a member of the
Alexandria Publishing Group
Kindle Edition
The Girl in the Window
Copyright © 2012 Valerie Douglas
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from author.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
License Notes
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Discover other titles by Valerie Douglas
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The Coming Storm Series
The Coming Storm
Not Magic Enough
Setting Boundaries
Heart of the Gods
Servant of the Gods
Thrillers
Nike’s Wings
The Last Resort
Romance
Irish Fling
Dirty Politics
Directors Cut
Two Up
Lucky Charm
Contents
Dedication
To my father… goodnight Dad
To Mateo…who listened while I struggled with the usual writer’s doubts
And to Spirit Wolf…who inspired me and pushed this story into the light. I wish he’d lived to see it live
Acknowledgment
The author’s thanks to the marketing department of the Little Brown Jug, the premier race for harness racing trotters. Any errors are solely the fault of the writer…
The early morning summer haze hung over the fields. By the looks of it, it would be warm and humid later. Joshua watched the girl walk through the long grass between the yards toward the paddock and the horse in that soft light. She moved as gracefully as a doe, and, he sensed, was as skittish as one. It wasn’t the first time she’d come.
Raised by women – his mother, sisters and aunts – and the youngest of them all, he’d been brought up to respect and protect them. It was his nature. Just the sight of the girl brought his protective instincts to the fore. Something about her made him want to wrap her up and keep her safe. Although she seemed to have a fragile strength to her, she was too thin, too solemn.
The first time he saw her near the paddock he’d been tempted to warn her off, worried about the horse and the risk she took. That was until he noticed the way she looked around tentatively, warily, and he noted the time of day. On most days he wasn’t still at the house at this hour. That told him something. As did her actions. It wasn’t her first visit. As the days had passed, he’d learned she only came when the boys hadn’t arrived yet to do their chores.
So she knew their schedules.
‘Boys’ being figurative, of course.
Russ – Josh’s horse-trainer cum farmhand – was nearly twice Josh’s age. Will and Tony were only a few years younger than Josh.
He watched the horse as the girl approached the paddock.
The horse’s magnificent black head lifted, and tossed skittishly. The animal danced nervously from foot to foot. Sunlight glinted brightly from his glossy hide, a silvery shimmer of light. The breeze picked up his forelock and mane, and blew them so he looked as wild as she did.
Josh despaired over the horse, bought at a yearling sale.
It had had better than good blood lines. He’d guessed the horse had problems, given the price it was being sold at, but he’d thought the gamble had been worth it.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Josh didn’t know the girl’s name – no one seemed to – he thought of her simply as ‘the girl in the window’. Every time he’d tried to learn more, she’d disappeared, running across the fields on light bare feet.
She didn’t come every morning – there were times when she just stood in the window of the old house next door looking out – but she did most mornings. It was as if she were drawn to come. It seemed as inevitable as the wind blowing across the fields of winter wheat, their silvery heads blowing like her hair.
The first time Josh had seen her walk across their yards so cautiously, watching so carefully, she’d bent to pick some of the ripening grain on her way. As an offering to the horse. One she brought each time she came.
And the horse rejected each time.
Yet still she came.
She wore the same faded blue-flowered dress this time as she had that first morning. The dress was thin cotton, and her hair, as fair as that ripe winter wheat, had lifted and blown in the breeze.
Even with no makeup on her face he could tell she was pretty in the way many young women were pretty, but she was maybe a little prettier than most.
