Trapped

Chapter Four

By the time I trotted up the front porch steps, the sun was almost gone. My plan was to sneak up to my room unnoticed, but Eliza found before I could even make it to the stairs. "Land sakes, Miss Kate, you are soaked to the bone! You are not coming in this house wearing that dress," Eliza shook her head in disapproval. "You'll be sick next week, I feel sure of it. Don't you know better than to go out in the rain when it's freezing cold? I thought I had taught you better than that."

With an annoyed sigh, I began peeling off my wet layers until I was down to my chemise. Dashing for the stairs, I left my clothes in a soggy clump in the middle of the foyer. "I'll be up with some nice hot tea in a little while," Eliza called after me.

A fire was waiting for me in my room, and for that I was extremely grateful. I stood as close to the fire as I could without being in danger of scorching my chemise. My skin began tingling almost immediately. I hadn't even realized how cold I was.

I don't know why I remember this day so well. I guess because I've played it over and over in my mind, ingraining it there forever. Sleepless nights were bombarded with this memory until I grew sick of it. I don't know why I found it so necessary to think and worry about it so much. Perhaps because if it occupied my mind long enough, and tortured my soul hard enough, I might somehow come to terms with it. Thus far, it hasn't worked.

"You're coming back down to clean this up, right?" I heard Eliza yell from downstairs.

"Be right there." I lingered by the fire for a few more seconds before reluctantly tearing myself away in search of a nightgown.

"You need to learn to keep after yourself! I won't be here to clean up your messes forever. Clean all this up before the water leaves marks on the floor," Eliza demanded as soon as I stepped off the stairs, her muscular brown arms planted firmly on her wide hips.

Eliza has run that house for as long as I can remember. Whatever she says goes, no questions asked. She had been Father's mammy when he was a boy, but he never had the heart to part with her. He held the utmost respect for Eliza and practically always took her side in any situation.

Mumbling an apology, I set to work wiping up the water. As I wiped the floor, Eliza stood over me like an army general training her troops for battle. Eager to escape her watchful eye, I worked as fast as I could.

It was then that Mother crawled out of the parlor on her hands and knees, meowing her way across the foyer to us. She rubbed against Eliza's legs and made purring sounds. She must have recovered from Robert's announcement pretty fast, or maybe she just didn't even remember it. With her, you can never tell. How I would love to know what goes on in that mind of hers.

Mother stopped purring and turned towards me. Scooting herself beside me, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"I've got to clean up this mess," I explained without looking up. A strand of hair fell out of my braid and into my face. I scrubbed the floor vigorously while trying to blow the hair out of my eyes.

"Oh, let Kara do that. Come on, let's go play a round of marbles!" Mother jumped to her feet, almost tripping over her own skirts.