The Lady Who Drew Me In. Thomasine Rappold
laughed, dropping the pad to the table as Mrs. Rhodes returned to the room with a tray of glasses and a pitcher of cider.
“Would you like me to sketch you, Andy?” Daisy asked as Mrs. Rhodes placed the tray on the table.
With an eager nod, Andy slid into the chair at Daisy’s side.
Daisy glanced to Jackson. “Perhaps you and Mrs. Rhodes can enjoy your cider on the porch.” She gestured with her eyes toward the door.
Jackson took the hint and rose from the table. “Join me, Mrs. Rhodes?”
The woman glanced to Andy. Seeing the boy was in good hands, she nodded, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ll be right outside, Andy.”
“We’ll let you know when we’re finished,” Daisy assured Mrs. Rhodes. She glanced at Jackson. “Please allow us some privacy until then.”
* * * *
Daisy added a set of large ears to her sketch of Andy, too, enjoying the sound of his laughter when she showed him the finished drawing. The boy seemed completely at ease as he nodded or shook his head in response to her general chatter. While she dreaded causing him any distress, she couldn’t stall any longer. In one last-ditch attempt to avoid using the cursed ability that had cost her so much, she asked, “Can you tell me what happened that day your father was shot?”
Andy’s small shoulders stiffened.
Daisy sighed. “You were there, weren’t you, Andy?”
He nodded, lowering his head.
Daisy drew a sharp breath against the ache in her chest. “Can you tell me about it?”
He shook his head hard.
“Or perhaps you’re too afraid to talk about it?”
She couldn’t blame him, and her heart filled with sorrow for what he had witnessed. A part of her wanted to leave him in peace, but she couldn’t. He was a threat to the killer, and in real danger now. She had to do what she must. “If you don’t want to speak about it, Andy, you don’t have to. But perhaps you could think about it for a few moments instead.”
He glanced up.
“Can you do that for me?” she asked. “Can you close your eyes and think about it?”
He gave a wary nod.
“Good boy.” She smiled. “Now take my hand and close your eyes.” She held Andy’s hand between hers. “I know how difficult this must be for you. And I know it hurts to remember.” She squeezed his small hand in hers. “But you are safe with Mrs. Rhodes. The man who hurt your father can’t hurt you here, so you don’t have to be afraid.”
She slipped her hand from his, then reached for her pad and pencil. Her hands trembled as she prepared to do what she’d sworn never to do again. Closing her eyes, she staved off her own fears. The memory of the last time she’d traveled this path, the horrified faces and the scandal that followed, detoured the way. She focused harder, forging past the shame and regret and into that desolate place where it all opened wide. She emptied her mind to accept the boy’s thoughts. Her fingers twitched on the page. Her tingling hand moved, ceding to the powerful force, as she let the pencil—her ability—take full control.
Andy’s fear flooded through her. Submerged in the current, she plunged deeper and deeper into his memories, into the unstoppable movement of her hand and whatever images she was pulling from his mind.
Her hand finally stilled, and she opened her eyes. She’d no idea how long she’d been drawing, but Andy’s wide-eyed expression told her it had been a while. She glanced down at the sketch pad.
She’d no real recollection of producing the images that had rushed through her mind. The drawing had poured onto the page of its own volition. But now the boy’s horrible memories, each vivid detail of what he’d seen, chased the air from her lungs. She closed the pad quickly. “Are you all right?” she asked.
He nodded.
She gave him a moment, then opened the pad. “Is this the man you saw shoot your father?”
His gaze fixed on the page. Lifting his trembling chin, he gave a firm nod.
She smiled, drawing him into her arms. “You’re a very brave little boy,” she said as she reluctantly released him. “But we mustn’t let anyone know about what you saw, or what occurred here today. Not yet, anyway.” She took hold of his hands. “Understand?”
Andy stared up at her with frightened eyes. His lips quivered. “Will… Will he go to jail?”
Daisy swallowed hard. The hoarse words he had summoned from the depth of his fear spurred her to tears. She stared into his little face. Swelling with a fierce urge to protect him, she offered a promise she hoped Jackson could keep. “Mr. Gallway will see to it.”
* * * *
Jackson sat in one of the spindle-back rocking chairs on the porch, wondering what was happening inside. The sun disappeared behind the thickening clouds in the distance. Tall birch trees swayed in the breeze. The sound of wind bells chimed through the yard.
“She likes you.” Mrs. Rhodes nodded to the cat weaving between his legs.
Jackson watched as the friendly creature brushed against one ankle, then the other, purring loudly. Jackson had known several women whose advances were less subtle, and as usual, he couldn’t resist. “So it seems,” he said, obliging the cat with a slow stroke to its fur.
Mrs. Rhodes began talking, and to his dismay, she didn’t stop. Her rambling gossip about people he didn’t know droned on until his neck cramped from the constant nods he used to conceal his total lack of interest. Even the cat nestling his boot seemed bored.
Jackson couldn’t wait another minute longer. He stood, interrupting Mrs. Rhodes mid-sentence. “I’ll go see if they’re finished,” he said, walking to the door. He slipped inside the house.
He took a few steps on the carpet runner, then stopped, awed by the scene. Amid the stark silence, Daisy sat, vacant eyes open, entranced in some spell. The pencil she held flew over the page, striking this way and that, up and down, side to side.
An eerie chill ran down his spine. The instinct to call out her name and awaken her from the disturbing state was hard to resist. He retreated from the room, wishing he’d heeded Daisy’s advice to remain on the porch.
He stepped outside and returned to his seat next to Mrs. Rhodes, bracing himself against the emotions roiling inside him. Whether Daisy’s attempt with Andy was a success or a failure, in this moment, after witnessing the bizarre scene inside, Jackson couldn’t summon the wits to care.
A few minutes later, Daisy emerged from the house. Jackson shot to his feet. She looked slightly pale, but otherwise, she seemed no worse for the wear. Jackson shifted his weight from foot to foot, lost for something to say.
“Andy is speaking,” she announced.
Mrs. Rhodes pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said. “How did you do it?”
“He was ready,” Daisy said. “I merely happened to be present.”
Jackson regarded her closely, admiring her modesty.
“Thank you for allowing us to visit with him, Mrs. Rhodes,” Daisy said. “We’ll be on our way now.”
The woman tossed a nod skyward. “I think it’s best you stay for supper. Those clouds mean business.”
“Thank you, but I must return to the city as soon as possible,” Jackson said.
“I think Mrs. Rhodes is right,” Daisy said. “Perhaps we should wait it out here.”
“We’ll be fine.” Jackson tipped his hat to Mrs. Rhodes. “Thank you, again,” he said as he took Daisy’s arm.
He