Vandem House – Past

 

     The judge been gone for hours the day the girls took Jumper out riding. He’d told Gabe he wouldn’t be home for supper, and that meant they had until nearly eight o’clock to do as they pleased. They’d spent half an hour grooming the beautiful animal before they took her out. The Palomino mare had belonged to Meg’s mother, and for the two young girls, it was a connection to the past that they treasured. Rarely did the chance present itself for them to go riding, and for Cecily, each time they did, her desire to escape deepened. Hanging onto Meg as the powerful horse galloped them across fields and meadows, it’s white hair flying back in the wind to join theirs, always made her feel free. Oh how she longed to keep going, to keep running and never look back. But fear held them chained to the large white house, and eventually, the ride always came to an end, and Jumper had to go back to her stall.

     When they’d arrived back at the barn, talking and laughing, Meg had led the horse inside. Cecily was confused when she stopped suddenly and came around to her side. The judge was standing there, his eyes dark and angry, holding the riding crop that seemed to Cecily to be a natural extension of his right arm.

     “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked coldly. “Haven’t I told you never to ride this animal?”

     Cecily felt Meg stiffen beside her.

     “Well?” he demanded.

     That was when Mr. Denton had entered. He’d stood behind their uncle watching them squirm. His smug expression turned Cecily’s fear into anger, and though she was shocked to hear herself speak, she was powerless to stop the angry flow of words.

     “Why shouldn’t we ride it? It’s not your horse!”

     Meg gasped and Cecily’s hands flew to cover her mouth. Her uncle descended swiftly and a moment later, she and Meg were huddled together, trying their best to shield themselves from the onslaught of stinging blows. Then, suddenly, he stopped and stormed from the barn, ordering them to stay where they were.

     Biting back her tears, Cecily asked, “Where’s he going?”

     “I . . . I don’t know,” Meg’s voice quivered.

     Cecily glared at Mr. Denton who had stayed, she was certain, to make sure they didn’t try to hide. A moment later, her anger was replaced with fear when her uncle entered the barn with his hunting rifle. She watched in wide-eyed terror as he cocked the hammer and raised the gun to his shoulder.

     “Now, Vandem,” Mr. Denton said, his smirk turning to a look of concern.

     “You stay out of this,” the judge yelled, then once again took aim.

     For Cecily, the world seemed to slow down around her. She watched as her uncle raised the rifle, his finger hovering over the trigger. She grimaced as he pulled it back, and she jumped at the explosion of light and sound. A moment of pain—she hit the floor—a horrible thud followed by a scream. She blinked in confusion, the world going from black to white hot light, then a searing pain from her ear brought everything into focus, and she rolled over. Jumper! No!

     Cecily’s insides grew numb as she crawled her way to Meg’s side. Her cousin was sobbing over the body of her beloved horse. Cecily made her way to the animal’s head, running her hands along the beautiful white mane. The bullet had struck the horse’s forehead, and Cecily gently pulled its hair away from the blood. She ran her hands over the horse’s soft muzzle, but though its eyes were still open, they held no life. Cecily shivered and turned away. From a distance, over Meg’s sobs, she heard footsteps approaching. She winced as her uncle grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, and then he whispered in her ear.

     “Don’t ever tell me something isn’t mine.”

     Tears of hatred began to fall from Cecily’s eyes as her uncle turned to leave.

     “Gabe,” the judge said to his slave that had come running at the sound of gunfire. “Get that cleaned up.”

     Slowly, Gabe took a blanket from one of the stalls and the girls moved aside so he could cover the animal. He let them cry for a few more minutes before he guided them back to the house. Cecily had been surprised when he’d taken out a handkerchief and placed it over her ear. She’d nearly forgotten the bullet that had killed Jumper had grazed her. At the porch, Cecily turned back toward the barn, toward yet another love that had been torn from her. For a moment, she wrestled with emotions too big for her to understand, then she’d felt Meg’s arm around her shoulder, and for that day at least, it was enough.