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Chapter 3

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KATIE FELT THE ROUGH edge of the old key in her hand as she walked toward the padlocked gate of her new home. It sent electric currents of excitement through her—along with a ripple of pure terror. This was hers. All of it. Thirty days ago she hadn’t known this place existed. Now it was home.

She paused before opening the old gate and took a deep, slow breath. The air was clean. The sky was vast. The birds singing from the branches of the sycamore trees sounded jubilant—as if they were serenading her into this new world. She glanced up at the sunlight streaking through the tree limbs but couldn’t see the source of the joyful chorus through the thick new leaves.

Katie couldn’t explain the mystical pull of this house, the strange magic it created. Her friends in New York thought she’d gone off the deep end—and maybe she had. Why else would she be wearing this ridiculous smile as she pushed open the rusty gate of a decrepit, abandoned house? Why else would she feel downright giddy at the thought of owning all these weeds and shrubs and rocks?

The sycamores on either side of the house loomed before her, even more stunning and towering than when Katie first saw them. Back then, of course, the limbs were cloaked only in buds and a promise of what was to come. Now they were in full leaf, their immense white trunks standing in deep contrast to the green overhead, their boughs nodding and whispering mysteriously to one another as she passed. She tried to imagine what her view from the house would be like in the fall, when the trees around Lacewood erupted into a carnival of color, creating a tapestry of hues in every direction, as far as the eye could see.

Katie took her time making her way to the house. Mine. All mine, kept running through her head. Followed by, what in the heck am I doing? As she swept her eyes over the expansive vista of deterioration before her, she couldn’t help but think of the extravagant penthouse she left behind.

One moment she was excited, the next shaking with fear. She was completely alone here. No neighbors above and below her. No housekeeper to make her bed, or restaurant to deliver her dinner. So simple, yet so complicated. So exciting and terrifying...so daunting and thrilling.

Pure, stark fear, bordering on hysteria, bubbled up—and was swallowed. Bright sunlight and singing birds had a way of making panic over unknown things seem trivial. By the time Katie reached the front steps, she’d conquered her misgivings. I need this, she told herself. And heaven knows, it needs me.

After sticking the key into the lock with a trembling hand, Katie gave a firm turn. The resulting click sent an emotional charge straight through her. This was it. She’d just unlocked the door to her new home...her new life.

Katie took a deep breath and pushed. It didn’t budge. She thrust her shoulder against the solid wood, triggering only a mild groan when it opened—not a loud, wailing screech like when the sheriff forced his way through. Perhaps the house had accepted her, as she had accepted it...

At least she didn’t feel like an intruder when she walked in.

Then again, neither did she feel quite at home.

Closing the door behind her, Katie stood perfectly still in the foyer, her heart pounding in her ears. Dried leaves made a scuffling sound as they whisked across the floor in a hurried dance, settling into the shadows as if hiding from a stranger.

Katie knew the electricity hadn’t been turned on yet, so didn’t bother trying the switch. She studied the room in silence, seeing things she hadn’t seen—or at least didn’t remember—during her earlier walk-through.

Cobwebs, dust, and broken glass were the first things she noticed in the dim light, followed by the musty smells of dampness and decay. The ceiling and walls ranged from a washed-out yellow to a smoky, dingy hue, except for a couple of brown splotches where water had found its way in. Furniture, swathed in dusty sheets, appeared ghostly, drowsing in forgotten neglect in the corners.

“A little fresh air will do wonders.” Katie said the words out loud and was startled when her voice echoed and reverberated back to her in the nearly-empty room. She hurried to a window on the south side of the house and wrestled with the monstrous pane until at last it moved. The panel only rose a few inches, but the effect was instantaneous. Warm air full of birdsong and the alluring fragrances of spring rushed in, creating a completely different atmosphere.

Sunshine spilled in as well, creating dappled pools of light on the floor. This was the type of thing Katie remembered from her time in the country...nature in all its glory. She wanted to smell and hear it, feel and enjoy it, even when working inside.

The intense satisfaction from that simple act made Katie sigh with happiness. Yes, this was a far cry from a condo at the beach—or even a rustic cabin in the mountains. But her jet-setting days of glamor and glitz were behind her. Lacewood was home, providing a haven she needed and longed for.

Katie walked through the imposing foyer, trying to avoid the shards of glass glittering in the sunlight. Her mother would never approve of this, that’s for sure. She often scolded Katie for wrapping herself in a cloak of isolation rather than enjoying the spotlight. Katie always responded by pulling the cloak even tighter.

The mere thought of what her mother’s reaction would be made Katie cringe, and then smile. For the first time, she was in charge of her life. No more trying to be what someone else wanted—or the world expected.

Turning her attention back to the house, Katie took in the desolate, dark, and barren room. Once she’d unpacked her things it would feel more like a home and less like a dirty, dilapidated barn. She’d bought a small microwave and coffee maker on her drive down, and packed everything she’d need to get by for a week or so. In addition to the necessities like her laptop and clothes, she had two coolers of ice, food, and a variety of flashlights and lanterns.

This wasn’t going to be easy, but this is what she wanted, Katie reminded herself. Instead of being waited on hand and foot, she would be able to measure the result of a hard day’s work by her aching muscles and the calluses on her hands...the way her father had, and his parents had, and certainly their parents before them. When her father reminisced about the old days, he always had a special glint in his eye. Now she was beginning to understand why.

Katie’s sandals made a scuffing sound as she walked down the corridor to the room in the back. This was where she planned to put her air mattress and belongings until other parts of the house were made livable. Sizeable yet homey, the room had a masculine feel to it, and an aura of protection and warmth.

Infatuated by the floor-to-ceiling bookcases encompassing two entire walls, Katie stood in the doorway and pictured the cherished volumes that once filled the shelves. Nothing remained of them now except the faint, musty smell of mildew, and a few scraps of paper that appeared ready to turn to dust.

Walking over to a built-in seat on the far wall, Katie rested her knee on the wooden ledge, and unlatched the French-style window behind it. She gave the pane a hopeful push outward, and was surprised when it creaked open with relative ease. A gentle breeze lifted the tattered remnants of a lacy curtain, rewarding her with the sweet scent of lilacs.

Leaning forward as far as she could, Katie tried to find the source of the fragrance, but discovered nothing but a tangle of weeds and untrimmed trees. Disappointed, she lowered herself to the window seat, trying to imagine the multitude of generations who sat in this very spot, reading, daydreaming, or simply gazing out over the wide expanse of flowers in the garden.

Of course, she had to use her imagination a little. The confusion of vines and vegetation that stretched out before her resembled a rain forest or a jungle more so than a garden. But even without flowers, this house was abundant with exactly what her soul needed.

Peace and quiet.

No more disruptions or distractions. No more interruptions or intrusions. On any given day, she could do as much—or as little—as she wanted. The debilitating headaches that had plagued her since childhood had all but vanished in the last month. She hadn’t even bothered to refill her prescription medications, or pack anything stronger than aspirin.

In that regard, the healing powers of the house were already evident. “I’ll fix you and you’ll fix me.” Katie felt silly making the promise out loud, but it was true. The house’s issues were countless and vast—but they were mostly superficial, paling in comparison to her deep-seated ones.

Pulling out her phone, Katie prepared to make the call she’d been dreading. Better to get it over with before the news begins to spread.

As she dialed the number, she steeled herself for the conversation to come. Her mother would be frantic with disbelief and dismay when she learned Katie made this decision without her. She would ask the inevitable question and demand an immediate answer. “What in the world are you DOING?”

Katie smiled with a deep sense of contentment at what her response would be.

Living.