Page 9 of To Love a Beast

The door swung open behind her, and Callista spun, a small gasp escaping her. Her seizing heart relaxed when she saw Wade standing on the threshold.

"Horses are hitched and your trunks are loaded, ma'am. You ready to go?"

No, but she didn't really have a choice, did she?

With a prayer on her heart and a tight grip on the hope she'd promised her mama not to surrender, she pasted on a smile and offered her escort a nod. "Lead the way."

Chapter 3

"This is it." Wade reined in the team, tension palpable. "Manticore Manor. Or at least the front entrance."

Callista stared at the imposing wrought-iron gate. Pillars of gray stone supported black metal bars that stretched eight feet high, each one topped with an arrow-shaped point that reinforced the idea of visitors not being welcome. A fence mimicked the austere design. Black, spear-like iron rods slashing upward between unforgiving stone posts, stretching out from the sides of the gate as far as she could see in either direction.

This was the entrance to a fortress, not a home.

Her skin chilled. She told herself it was just the spring air cooling as night approached, but the resulting shivers that coursed through her limbs hinted at something more ominous. Perhaps The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde had not been the wisest literary selection for travel reading.

Was it her imagination, or were the shadows truly darker on the other side of the fence?

Wade set the wagon brake, and the click of the lever sliding into place jolted her out of her gothic musings.

"It's not too late to head back to town," he said, not for the first time. "I'm sure my ma would put you up for the night." His gaze darted to the gate, and his Adam's apple bobbed in an exaggerated swallow.

Callista pasted on a smile and manufactured some much-needed optimism. "That's sweet of you to offer, but I'm sure I'll be fine." She scooted to the edge of the bench and rose to her feet. "Come. I'll help you with the trunks."

Without waiting for his agreement, she slung the strap of her satchel over her head and arm and disembarked the wagon. Wade met her at the back of the wagon bed, and working together, they managed to drag the heavy trunks over to the gate.

Arms and back aching from the strain, Callista straightened after settling the second trunk by its counterpart at the base of the righthand pillar. Spotting a wide smudge of dust from where the trunks had rubbed against her skirt, she gave the area a vigorous brushing until satisfied no one could find her appearance amiss.

After situating her satchel to hang along her hip, she gave each of her cuffs a tug then turned to face her escort. "Thank you, again, for the ride, Wade. I'm much obliged."

"It don't feel right leaving you here, Miss Rosenfeld." He cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, probably searching for signs of the massive canine he'd tangled with on his last visit.

Gaining some level of reassurance from the fact that the lad didn't seem to find what he sought among the trees on the other side of the fence, Callista tightened her grip on her resolve. "Don't worry. Mr. Lightfoot is expecting me." Technically, he was expecting her father, but no need to split hairs.

Wade looked as if he planned to argue, so Callista did the only thing she could think of to clear his conscience. She lifted the latch, pushed the gate inward, and slid inside the opening. The bars rattled when she banged the gate closed, and the latch clanged in a way that reminded her far too much of shackles and chains.

She lifted a hand in parting. "Goodbye, Wade." Then before either of them could have second thoughts, she turned her back on the kind young man and strode down the dirt drive leading to Manticore Manor.

The path wound through gnarled trees and untamed vegetation, and every time the wind whistled through the leaves, her pulse accelerated another notch.

"'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.'" Callista murmured the words of the beloved psalm beneath her breath as she walked deeper into the unknown. Her steps slowed of their own accord as thorned mesquite trees encroached the narrowing path. Gray clouds gathered above, adding to the oppressive ambiance by casting eerie shadows and cutting her off from what little warmth emanated from a quickly sinking sun.

"'Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.'"

She cast a glance behind her but saw no sign of either goodness or mercy in her wake.

Courage, Callista. Just because you can't see any evidence of his presence doesn't mean that God isn't with you. We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen.

Even as that scriptural assurance moved through her mind, something unseen made its presence known. Something with a deep bass bark that rumbled over her like the thunder of an approaching storm.

Her head spun to the right. Her gaze scoured the shadows for the guard dog whose territory she'd invaded. She saw nothing.

Heart thumping, she rushed ahead, praying the manor would be around the next bend. But before she could reach the bend in question, the barking shifted direction, now coming from in front of her. She stumbled to a halt. Leaves rustled nearby. The low-pitched barks grew closer. Nearly upon her. She'd never be able to outrun the beast.

Callista squeezed her eyes shut, wrapped her arms around her middle, and prayed for a miracle.

Gruff barks echoed with a percussive depth so near, she could feel them like tremors in the earth. Instinct urged her to flee, but reason glued her feet to the ground. He hadn't attacked yet. She'd not give him reason to think of her as prey. Perhaps if she imitated a tree long enough, he'd grow bored and search for entertainment elsewhere.