Shadows Fall Away by Kit Forbes Page B

away a few medical books that had been taken from a glass-fronted bookcase as I wrote.
    When I finished, I handed her the unfolded note. “I couldn’t leave without thanking them for their hospitality. It was very nice of them to let me stay here last night and offer me a hot bath, cleaned clothes, and a nice meal.” Yep, she was definitely cute when she smiled.
    “You’re very welcome, Mr. Stewart. I shall give this to Father as soon as he returns.”
    I nodded then made my way to the door. Genie followed.
    Stepping outside, I turned my gaze to her, trying to muster up more of the old fashioned manners of the guys in my mom’s books. “Goodnight, Miss Trambley. Please be careful out there when you do your ‘good works.’”
    “I shall, Mr. Stewart. Goodnight to you.”
    I trotted down the few steps then looked back. She was still peeking out the half-closed door. I waved and walked backward on the sidewalk watching her give me a wiggly finger wave before letting the heavy door close.
    Back home, I’d have thought her watching me leave was a stupid thing, but here and now it didn’t seem so stalkerish or clingy. It was kind of nice to think I might have at least one friend my age in this place.
    I walked along until I was able to flag down a carriage for hire and took that to Ian’s house in one of the nicer parts of the East End. Staring out the window as the cab rolled along the streets, I was again reminded of a Tim Burton movie, only this setting wasn’t quite as stark and menacing as it seemed in the morning. This time it was a bit calmer like the movie made from Mom’s book.
    My thoughts strayed. I wondered if I was being punished for all the grief I’d given my parents the past couple years. I never planned being a “bad kid,” but after their move my freshman year put me in a new school and having to make new friends, things changed. My parents had no idea what it was like being a cop’s kid sometimes.
    Half the new people I met wanted to be my friend hoping I could get Dad to sweep crap they did under the rug. And the other half distrusted me from day one, figuring I was like some planted informant dying to have them busted for partying or selling weed.
    I poked my head out the carriage window and searched for the moon. I’d never really paid attention when I was little and they dragged me to church every week, but I’d always felt there was something out there in charge of it all. I’m sorry, okay? If this is some lesson I’ll try to learn it, just let me go home as soon as I do. Please?
    I settled back, closed my eyes, and let the jostling and clopping of the horse’s hooves lull me into a light sleep. I startled awake when the driver rapped on the door to say we’d arrived at Ian’s.
    Ian opened the front door. I stepped inside and gave a quick glance around the small entry way. This place wasn’t half as big as the Trambley’s but it had the same dark wood everywhere, the dark, flowered patterned rugs and gas lamps on the walls and ceiling. Putting my hat on a little hall table next to Ian’s, I thanked my ancestral uncle again for letting me stay the night. Ian gave me a gruff hrrmph sound in reply and showed me into the little parlor to the right of the hall.
    “My wife, your Aunt Imogen.”
    She set aside the embroidery hoop she’d been holding and smiled. “Hello, dear. Did you have a pleasant evening with the Trambleys?”
    “The food was very good.”
    Ian snorted a laugh, picked up the newspaper he must have been reading, then retook his seat in a high-backed chair near the fireplace.
    Imogen gave him a disapproving look, but I was sure I saw a grin trying to raise the corners of her mouth. She patted the end of the velvet sofa she was sitting on and I sat.
    “Surely young Eugenia was pleasant company for you?”
    I smiled. “She’s pretty nice.” Imogen seemed a bit confused. “I meant she seems like a nice person.”
    Imogen picked up her embroidery and continued to