A Crowe's Song Page 5
“The lagoon—where the falls are—is called The Birdbath.” I pointed in the direction of the lagoon, even though it couldn’t be seen from where we were. “And then there’s the main house, or the museum as it’s turned into over the years; we call that The Birdhouse.”
“Did you guys do that because the resort is called Black Bird? Or was it all planned from the start?”
“I guess it’s a bit of both, really. My grandma named this place after Chogan, which is an Indian word for black bird. At the time, there was only the one house—Black Bird Bed and Breakfast. The rest of the names came after the resort's expansion, and I’m pretty sure my dad came up with them. He’s a lot of things, but creative is not one of them.”
Laughter floated past her lips, only to be lost in the wind. “Well, I think it’s clever.”
Wisps of hair blew across her face, but she did nothing about them. Rather than tuck them behind her ears, she just let them fly around while she smiled to herself, silently taking in the scenery before her.
Once we made it through the low-speed zone, I gunned it, practically gliding across the water in the hopes of getting there faster. The entire time we sped toward the center of the lake, she held onto the console with one hand and my T-shirt with the other. I couldn’t help but think that if she held onto me like that all the time, I’d never slow down. Unfortunately, though, I had to. As we neared the shining steeple standing tall out of the water, I let off the throttle until we came to an idling speed.
“What is that?” Kenny asked in awe, with her mouth just as wide as her eyes.
I pointed ahead of us, directly at the steeple, and began to explain as if I were leading a tour. “That’s the church. Well, technically, what’s left of it. Initially, it was this tiny stone building that stood in the very center of the town. It was maybe thirty feet by thirty feet, but it rose high into the sky like a watchtower. The brass steeple that you can see from here used to have a massive bell that hung beneath it, and the entire dome was open.
“As the town got bigger, the church had to be expanded to hold more people. Instead of knocking it down and rebuilding, they simply added onto the original tower, making it into the shape of a cross. And what used to be the original church, the center of the new one, became the pulpit. But because of the steeple and giant bell that hung above it, the entire church was dark inside, regardless of how bright it was outside.”
“They didn’t expect that when they decided to make it bigger?”
Noticing how much closer we were, and knowing how much more of the story I had to tell, I pulled back on the throttle, practically cutting the engine altogether. “I guess not. They probably assumed that opening the ceiling that led to the steeple would fix the problem. Except it didn’t.”
Enamored with my retelling of the church’s history, she asked, “What did they do?”
I’d recited this tale so often I could easily convince someone I had lived in Chogan and had attended this church. But for some reason, narrating it to Kenny made it feel like the first time I’d ever told the story.
“They removed the bell and enclosed the top with glass. You might not be able to see it now, but when we get closer, you’ll notice that there’s not much left of the stained glass. Thanks to the river and the way the dams work, the flow of water has ruined more than half of it—the rest of the damage is due to being buried beneath a lake for the last forty-some-odd years.”
The boat followed the current as it drifted toward the steeple without much interference from me. And as we grew closer, her focus became more intense, her attention glued to the tarnished brass that stood proudly through the water’s surface.
“Did that work?” It was like she’d held her breath while waiting for the answer.
“Yeah.” I, too, found myself unable to take my attention away from the historic landmark. “After that, no matter where the sun was in the sky, the entire church lit up.” I leaned down, bringing my lips closer to her ear, and added, “Everywhere except in the very center of the pulpit.”
“Wait…what?” There was no denying how absorbed she was in my story.
“You heard me. The entire church was regularly bathed in sunlight…except for the very center, the pulpit, the only remaining part of the original church.”
“But why?”
“There’s actually a myth about it. I have no idea where it came from or how long it’s been told, but apparently, if you stood at the podium beneath the dome and the sunlight landed on you, it meant that your guardian angel was watching.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” she argued with the bridge of her nose scrunched. “The whole thing is glass; how would the sun not shine on you?”
“You’ll see when we get inside.”
Kenny turned on her heel and faced me with shock and maybe a hint of horror in her slightly obscured expression. “We’re going inside? Are we even allowed? Is it safe?”
There was not enough strength in the world to fight off the grin she caused. “Yes, yes, and so far, so good.” I watched in amusement at the wheels in her head turning, likely trying to remember what questions she’d even asked. “The current has completely washed away the glass on two sides, which leaves enough room for a small boat to pass through when the water level is at its lowest—such as right now.”
“How many times have you been inside?”
“Quite a few. It’s surprisingly dark in there.”
The residual current from the dam being opened helped guide us closer to the unmistakable brass standing tall above the water. I relaxed against the cushioned backrest behind me and angled myself to face her more. With my arm propped behind her, her full attention set on me, I began to fully explain the only piece of Chogan still alive.
“No one has ever been able to explain it, but it does kind of make sense if you think about it. The pulpit was directly beneath a large piece of solid brass, which would encase what’s below in a shadow. The glass dome dispersed the light all around the church, and every now and then, when someone stood in the very center, the sun would hit them like a spotlight.”
Her forehead creased, giving away exactly how she looked at me through her tinted glasses—with skepticism. “How do you know this?”
“Stories that have been passed down.”
“Did your dad used to live there?”
I shook my head and repositioned myself in front of the steering console, ready to direct us through the church tower. “No. My dad was only a baby when the town flooded, and he never lived there. But my Grans did, and she’s the one who told my dad and me the story.” I smiled and added, “It’s part of our tour.”
If I could’ve seen her eyes, I would’ve bet she rolled them.
“Come here.” I pulled her to stand in front of me, between my arms, and placed her hands on the steering wheel. “Just keep going straight.”
“Wait…” She tried to slide away, but I wouldn’t let her pass. “I don’t know how to drive a boat.” Panic flooded her tone.
I couldn’t help but laugh at her beneath my breath. “Kenny…it’s fine. I’ve got you.”
“Oh my God, what if we get in trouble?” she whispered in fear.
“Not gonna happen. Trust me.”
Not thinking about it, I dropped one arm and lightly gripped her hip while keeping my other hand on the throttle. After feeling her relax against me, I pulled her to my chest and shifted the boat into reverse for a second. I needed to slow us down even more as we made our way through the first opening.
It couldn’t have been more than thirty feet from one end to the other, but for whatever reason, it seemed to go on forever. Kenny gasped and craned her neck to peer up, although I couldn’t do the same. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I’d drifted through this exact spot countless times before, at this same time of day when the water level was low, and never, not once, had I seen the sun flood the space like it did right now.
I’d told her how dark it was.
Yet n
ow, we were surrounded by the brightest light I’d ever seen.
Kenny lifted her shades and slowly turned in my grasp until we stood chest to chest. The sun bathed her in white light, almost angelic-like. I’d gone this entire time without sunglasses, and suddenly, I felt as though I needed them. As though the space was too bright, yet soft and glowing. A contradiction I couldn’t be bothered to figure out.
Her piercing blue eyes captivated me. Pulled me in. Held me hostage. They told me things I wasn’t ready to hear, painted a story I’d never been told before. And they whispered a song my heart had known, even though it was unfamiliar.
A force I couldn’t deny, one I couldn’t fight, wound around us and refused to let go. Heat exploded everywhere our bodies touched; electricity ignited between us, burning so brightly I had no choice but to close my eyes. And in an instant, my lips were on hers. I blinked, needing to make sure this was real, that I hadn’t drifted into a parallel universe or somehow died and this was heaven. I needed to know without a doubt that it was Kenny who stood in front of me, whose lips were on mine, whose hands burned through the fabric of the shirt covering my chest.
I couldn’t describe the light. It shone on us, both of us, yet I didn’t feel the heat. In fact, a breeze drifted through the tunnel, cooling me, calming me. A hum reverberated through the vacant space and wrapped around us. The kiss could’ve lasted minutes or hours—probably only seconds—but it felt as though it spanned lifetimes. Generations. Instead of lasting a few heartbeats, it could’ve easily transpired over a few decades.
Our mouths separated, but rather than back away, we remained close to each other. Her breath wafted across my lips, battling against the cool breeze. But I couldn’t move. Her gaze froze every muscle, stunned every breath, and captured every thought.
Just then, the sky opened up, and the sun’s warmth welcomed us back to reality. The harsh light forced me to blink a few times and caused Kenny to lower her shades back from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose. I frantically glanced around and wondered if anyone had witnessed our exchange.
If it had even happened.
Or if it had all been in my imagination.
Kenny quickly answered that for me when she dropped her forehead to the center of my chest. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Her words drifted through the quiet breeze on a shaky exhale. “I don’t know why I just did that.”
Confusion wrapped around me like a weighted blanket. I had no idea why she would be apologizing when I was the one who’d kissed her. Apparently, she assumed it had gone the other way. I wanted to correct her, though I couldn’t seem to find my voice. In fact, I couldn’t seem to do much of anything other than hold her to me.
It was as if a switch had flipped—for both of us. Somehow, inside the church dome, beneath the steeple, surrounded by glass…we were in another universe. One where only the two of us existed. A space belonging to only Kenny and me. Where time had no measure. It was unexplainable.
Incomprehensible.
“I don’t know why you did that, either.” With laughter on my lips, I shook my head and quickly grabbed the wheel to straighten us out against the current. Her body turned rigid against mine in an instant. And the moment she lifted her chin, pulling away just enough to see my face, I smiled and added, “Maybe you just find me irresistible.”
At least it fulfilled its purpose—it evicted most of the heaviness around us and made her laugh. I realized right then and there that I wanted to hear that sound as often as I could…for as long as I could.
After getting the boat straightened out, I dropped my arms. I expected Kenny to move away. However, she remained in front of me, facing me, her shielded stare penetrating me while her smile lingered on her lips.
“Either that or…didn’t you say the lake is haunted?”
“And you think the ghosts of Chogan decided to use their powers of possession to make you kiss me?”
She lifted one shoulder and casually shifted until she stood next to me, no longer face to face. “Well, yeah…I mean, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I was most certainly not in control of my actions, that’s for sure.”
I ran my hand over the light dusting of hair on my jawline in dramatic thought. “Do you think we have to be on the water or in the church for them to make you do it again?” I stoned my expression as best I could. “Or should I be worried about it happening on dry land as well?”
“Nope, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” She lifted her arms, palms out, in a dramatic show of surrender—all with a grin complimenting her glistening lips.
A strong desire to kiss her again burned deep in my chest. At least I no longer felt powerless against my actions like I had beneath the steeple. Except, I worried that this need would go unfulfilled, and therefore, be a permanent reminder of my loneliness. The best I could do was ignore it and hope it went away.
Kenny relaxed next to me with a long exhale that somewhat resembled a sigh. But when I glanced at her, I found her observing the peaceful nature around us, an easiness resting in her expression. “You never did tell me about these ghosts.”
“That’s because there aren’t any. The people around here only believe it because the graves were never dug up. They say that by not relocating the remains, they’ve disrespected the dead and angered the spirits of the buried corpses.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s bullshit if you ask me. It’s no more haunted than any other cemetery.”
“But the other night, you said you believed it was.”
I shrugged and squinted against the sun’s reflection on the lake’s surface. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to get into this part of the history with her, yet at the same time, I felt compelled to explain everything. “I think there are things that happened before the town was flooded that could possibly lend reason to a haunting presence. However, I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“What kinds of things happened before the flood?”
I kept my attention straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with her at all costs. I knew if I got trapped in that crystalline stare, then I would be compelled to tell her everything. The problem was that I wasn’t ready to tell her all of it, so instead, I gave her the most honest answer I could. “No one knows for sure. It’s pretty much speculation that’s been shared through stories. It could all very well be an urban legend.”
Chapter Four
Kenny
I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Drew’s lips felt on mine as I picked at cold fries from tonight’s dinner. I had a book in my hand, but I hadn’t paid attention to a single word of it. I’d made it through three pages in the almost hour since sitting outside, yet the only thing I could tell you was that Drew’s lips were addictive.
I’d taken the to-go container from The Feeder and a book I’d been dying to read to the side of the cabin. The weather was amazing, the view was unbeatable, and the Adirondack chair was easy to cozy up in. Yet I wasn’t able to enjoy any of it, because I couldn’t seem to take my mind off a particular person—specifically, one with messy hair and the lips of an angel. Here I was, in the middle of the best Mother Nature had to offer, and I was unable to focus on any of it.
This was not normal behavior for me.
I must’ve been so deep in my own thoughts that I practically jumped out of my skin when a low beam of light passed along the front of my cabin. Fear coiled tightly in my chest, making my heart pump faster and harder. And as I slowly craned my neck to peer around the corner, careful not to alert anyone that I was here, my hands began to shake.
It was silly, really, considering that the only way up here was a narrow dirt path, which meant the headlights would have to be from a golf cart. And since there would only be one person coming here at this time, it was easy to conclude that it was Drew who had pulled up and parked just outside my front door.
The fear only worsened once I peeked around the corner to the front porch. Nothing. There was no one there. Wondering what it was that I saw, I s
et down my book and pushed against the armrests to stand. But before I had my full weight on my feet, I was knocked off balance by the sound of someone saying, “Hey.”
One minute, I was in stealth mode, peering around the corner to sneak up on my surprise guest. And the next, I was on the ground between the chair and the footstool, mortified and convinced that I would make a horrible secret agent.
“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” Drew hurried around the porch to help me up. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Actually, I was trying not to scare you.”
“How’d you even know I was over here?” I asked as I took his offered hand.
“The light’s on.” He pointed to the outside fixture that hung on the wall between the two deck chairs. The way he said it was so matter of fact, so obvious, it was embarrassing. After all, I’d been “reading” a book, so I clearly knew the light was there.
I let him help me to my feet, where I brushed off my bottom and tried to appear unbothered by his presence—or the humiliation coursing through me. But as soon as I finished cleaning myself off, I met his stare and froze.
He effortlessly righted himself—shoved his hands into his pockets and squared his shoulders. It was as though I had taken him by surprise instead of the other way around. However, it didn’t matter how cool, calm, and collected he appeared on the outside, my effect on him wasn’t quite as easy to hide in his voice when he said, “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
His breathless words surrounded me in a cocoon and warmed me to the core. They released a swarm of butterflies in the pit of my stomach, drowned me in a wave of unbridled desire, and had me so turned around I could very well have been trapped in a tornado. I was shaken and tongue-tied to the point I couldn’t say anything without giving away his effect on me, so rather than speak, I slowly shook my head and prayed that he understood the gesture.