Page 19 of Property of Scythe
“I want to visit soon, but I won’t be able to take any time off until Thanksgiving,” Mel finally answers. She doesn’t respond to my insistence that I’m safe and no one will harm me, but that’s my sister. Overprotective to a fault.
I love her even more for it. She’s the reason I gave therapy a chance after my attack. I lived with Mel for months before I felt brave enough to return to my apartment. The first night I slept in my bed, we stayed on the phone all night.
In the dictionary under “Best Sister of all Time”, there has to be a photo of Mel.
“Stay in touch, Lottie. Promise me.”
“I will.” She’s scared I’m going to fall into depression again. I’ve come a long way since then. “I’m really okay, Mel.”
She sighs. “Well, if anything else happens with your hot biker, I want to know.”
“You’ll be the first,” I vow.
“Love ya, sis.”
“Love you more, Mel.”
The call ends, and I place my phone on the coffee table, lifting my knees as I sit back. Today marks the end of my first day of classes as a second-grade teacher. I loved it. It’s challenging, noisy, and mostly chaotic, but I adore the kids already.
If I’m honest, there’s one little girl who’s already stolen a piece of my heart. Mila is a gentle soul, bright, outgoing, and an absolute joy. She seemed shy when we first met, but by the end of the day, I saw no trace of it.
When Scythe came to the door to pick her up, I didn’t miss the heated sweep of his dark eyes over my body. If literal flames could dance in his caramel brown depths, I would have seen them. There’s something there that’s more than attraction, and I want to explore it.
It’s risky for me after all I’ve been through in the last year. I don’t have a clue how Scythe feels about me. But it’s not hard to guess with the way he looks at me. I’ve only seen him a few times, and I can already tell he’s a good father, friendly, and cares about the other people in town.
It’s so different than growing up in southern California. People are always on the go, too busy and stuck in their lives to notice their neighbors most of the time. But here, the pace is slower, calmer, and everyone I pass by offers a greeting. If you ask me, Raven’s Crest is far superior to L.A.
On that thought, I scramble off the couch and decide I need to explore. I’ve seen downtown and my neighborhood, but I want to witness the sunset when it paints the horizon in shades of pink and purple, and the cornfields where I spotted all the scarecrows the day I drove into town, maybe take a stroll through all those weeping willow trees that line the edge of the forest behind my building.
My timing is perfect as I exit, pushing my arms through the sleeves of my sweater. There’s just enough chill in the air to warrant the extra layer with a slight breeze that’s beginning to blow around fallen leaves. Only a few litter the ground, but in the coming weeks, they’ll crunch underfoot in a variety of fall colors.
The scent of cinnamon, pumpkin, nutmeg, and allspice tickles my senses. Not far away, Granny Jo must be baking inside the Butter Bliss. And the coffee shop on the corner is already preparing drinks that cater to autumn. The signs in the window boast frothy and whipped toppings along with the season’s signature flavors.
It’s as close to heaven as I can imagine. Nothing makes me feel freer or less stressed than a walk in fresh air and a pretty view. I feel relaxed as I move beyond the shops and restaurants, leaving downtown to walk toward the cornfields.
Since I’m from California, it’s a sight I’ve not witnessed often. We don’t have farmland like this where I grew up. It’s the height that’s impressive as I reach the edge of the cornstalks. They’re much taller than I am, planted in long rows so tightly together that if I walked ten feet inside, I know I’d be lost. I can imagine it’s terrifying to be stuck inside after dark, especially without a flashlight or phone.
As my gaze sweeps over the plants, I notice a tall wooden stake anchored in the ground. I follow it to the top, where I find a scarecrow mounted, his arms stretching outward across a bisecting beam, staring down at the rows of corn as if he’s ready to eliminate any threat. The thought makes me smile. He must be doing his job well. There aren’t any crows.
That’s when I notice two things. One, the sun has dipped below the horizon. It’ll be dark soon. Two, I’m not alone.
I can’t explain how I know. It’s a feeling of being watched that suddenly appeared and has nothing to do with the harmless scarecrow perched above my head. I blink up at his face, wondering how his face seems so lifelike with skin that’s faded and a texture similar to leather. The eyes are what amp up the creepy factor. They seem to lock onto me, following my movements as I back away from the cornfield.
For some unknown reason, my heart starts beating faster, and I suck in a ragged breath, wondering if I’m imagining how the scarecrow stays fixed on me even when I begin to walk out of sight. In just a few steps, I’ll have to turn the corner, and my back will face him. It’s silly and irrational to feel afraid, but Ido. What if he hops off the pole and comes after me?
I’ve watched too many horror movies.
As soon as I turn the corner, I pick up speed, walking faster than necessary to put some distance between me and the scarecrow. I’m all but running as I hear a thud behind me and suspect the worst. I don’t dare look over my shoulder, too chicken shit to confirm my fears.
I had to look like a crazy woman as I hustled my way into town, stopping only once I reached the familiar shops. Bending over at the waist, I rest my hands on my knees, dragging air into my lungs as my heart continues to pound a vicious rhythm in my chest.
“Lottie?”
I glance up through my lashes and spot the jeans and black leather. It’s Scythe. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
I stand up, forcing myself to slow my breathing and appear calm. I’m not, but he doesn’t have to know that. “Sure. Just a bit out of breath from my walk.”
