The Butcher's Daughter

Chapter 7

Everything changed the day that Harold Whitley returned home from the war. Seeing his mother shift from her expected demeanor of joyful and welcoming to frightened and grim as Mabel arrived with the Casey Girls, was unsettling to say the least. Annabelle's interests also shifted; from looking after the younger girls to remaining at Harold's side until his injuries inevitably claimed him. But it was not her lack of attention that caused Mabel to leave that day. Instead, it was reliving her father's final days in the form of the young man's suffering.

Mary's whispers as she visited each room that contained the soldiers who arrived with her son, reminded Mabel of how Jake and Giselle would discuss her father's condition when they thought she wasn't listening. The expression of poorly concealed sadness in the old woman's eyes as she spoke to Annabelle haunted Mabel. Yet, there was nothing quite so painful as the hope that Annabelle seemed to cling to in Harold's final hours. It was that same naivety that Mabel possessed day after day until she returned from school to find that her beloved father, motionless and cold in his quiet room.

At first, she left the Whitley's home on an errand. Mary had given her the means to purchase supplies for the night and asked that she speak with Reverend Chelsea in Waterford so that he might visit the injured soldiers before their souls departed. She rode swiftly towards town as had been discussed on a chestnut mare that Thomas had favored during those afternoon rides that seemed so long since passed. But Mabel, as ever, strayed from her intended path and found herself approaching the scorched ruin of the farmhouse that Thomas had grown up in.

A humble grave was all that had been left behind in his remembrance. She'd visited Thomas only once before with Annabelle by her side. Unlike his mother, he had neither a headstone nor an epitaph. Just a small wooden cross that his father had quickly made in what was left of his workshop before abandoning the property for good. She sat on the ground in front of Thomas, shuffling the leather pouch full of coinage that was to be used to purchase bandages and medicinal herbs that wouldn't do any good in the grand scheme of things.

"You're growing up much too fast," a voice, hushed and light as a feather traveled past her on the breeze. Before Mabel could inquire, the sentence was repeated with more weight. She recognized it immediately as the voice of a young man fighting to speak lower and sound grown up. Although her face flushed in discomfort, the faintest smile graced her lips. Her godmother had a "ghost" who she would speak to when Mabel was busy visiting her father's grave. Her heart grew warm to know that Thomas had found her, just like Henry had for Giselle.

"Where are you?" She searched the space, but found nothing. At least until she felt his presence in the form of a windy embrace. "I can feel you." Without a second to spare, the confession that she made to him only after he was gone, spilled from her lips, "Thomas, I never hated you. Never! I just get so angry sometimes and become someone I don't like." Mabel could feel the shape of his hand forming upon the platform of her one open palm. "Who did this to you?" She was disappointed when he gave no answer. "I must know if I am going to avenge you!"

"Spirits don't applaud vengeance. Peace is our gospel and I am at peace when I am with you."
"How can you possibly be at peace with someone who said such terrible things? And content with knowing that whoever murdered you in cold blood is still out there? The Thomas I know-" she could feel the breeze wash over her, in an attempt to bring comfort and lessen her distress. "You're holding me. Aren't you?"

"You gained a mother in Annabelle. Now, you have a ghost of your very own. And your father... do you still blame me for what happened to him?"

Mabel could feel her strength failing and knew she was on the verge of tears. "I was foolish to do so. Seeing as he is here. Alive and... somewhere. Perhaps even in those woods." She looked up, seeing the dark, twig-like foundation of what was once a barn.