Okay, so all of you who keep up with my other stories, please don't slaughter me for posting a new one while still having two in progress. I just can't help myself. Plus, this is how I hold myself accountable... or how you all hold me accountable anyway because once I put it out there, there's no way I'm going to leave it hanging.
So, with that said, here we go with this one that's been driving me crazy for months.
Sleepy Hollow was hardly the place one might find to be warm in late October. However, as he walked across the school parking lot, the heel of his dress shoes thudding against the pavement, he found himself perplexed by the bright sun overhead. It was an astounding eighty-seven degrees, an oddity for sure this late in the year.
"I don't want to go, daddy."
Tearing his eyes from the sun, which had intrigued him since stepping foot outside his house, he dropped his gaze to his daughter, who's fingers were clutched tightly around his own. One would think he was leading her to the noose!
"Bella, you have a test today and I have a very important meeting with Mr. Billings. You remember him, don't you?"
Gold-green eyes flickered up to him as an all too familiar look consumed her face; one that told of her sorrow and desire to be pitied. If there was one thing his daughter excelled at, it was managing to appear completely innocent in the face of refusal or denial.
"I don't feel good," she muttered as she bumped into his leg to avoid a woman passing by them.
"You felt fine over breakfast," he mused as he led her up the steps. "Are you worried about your test?"
Dark hair fell into her eyes as she shook her head and focused her attention on the ground.
"My shoe's untied."
Following her gaze to the white strings dragging along the concrete behind her, he sighed and knelt to her level.
As he took the laces between his fingers, he said, "We studied your numbers all night. You shouldn't be worried."
"It's my tummy that hurts, not my brain," she countered, her brow drawn together. "You let me stay home last week."
Done with her laces, he met her eyes to find the gold-green he'd adored for five years staring back at him with desperate hope. It was nearly too much to resist.
"Last week was different," he explained as he lifted a hand to brush her hair behind her ear. "It was only a half day."
"But-"
The bell started to ring, causing Bella's face to fall even further.
"Daddy, please, don't make me go," she cried as she threw her arms around his neck. "I want to go home."
Unable to do little other than lift her up, he began carrying her toward the double doors of the school, which a lady thankfully held open for him.
"Bella, it's only for a short while," he whispered as he soothingly stoked her back. "I'll come check you out right after my meeting finishes."
And never utter anything about it to Abbie.
Apparently, in his friend's opinion, he was far too easy on Bella. Every tear stabbed him right in the heart, often helping Bella evade punishment, as he could hardly bear to scold her when she was so distraught. The only time he ever truly came down on his little girl was when Abbie was there, her expression disapproving. In truth, he knew he should be stricter with Bella. She certainly never threw tantrums with her Aunt, who she seemed to have more respect for than anyone.
However, with everything his daughter went without, he just couldn't seem to force anything else onto her small shoulders.
"Oh, Bella, what's wrong?" Betsy Ross, Bella's kindergarten teacher, approached them with a worried expression. "Are you hurt?"
He shook his head with a smile, grateful for the distraction from the tears wetting his neck. "She's just a bit out of sorts this morning. She'll be fine after I'm gone."
Bella clung all the tighter to his neck as he knelt to the ground.
"Come now, Bella," he cooed, gently tugging on her arms in the hopes that she would release him. "It's only for a short while."
Tears streaked her pale cheeks, causing his will to falter. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was to see her cry.
Lifting his hand to tenderly stroke her cheek, he watched her choke on her own sob.
"Bella, I have to go now."
"Daddy, please," Bella cried as he stood back up. "Don't leave me."
Gaze turning to Betsy, he silently pleaded for her help. If someone didn't do something soon, he was going to crack.
"Bella, sweetie, go on and take your seat. I'm sure Madison will be glad to see you."
Mention of Bella's best friend was enough to stop the sobs, but he could still see the fight brewing in his daughter's eyes.
"If you go on now, we'll go for ice cream when I pick you up," he offered, knowing he was wrong to resort to bribery, but desperate enough to use it. "Alright?"
To her credit, she didn't stomp as she went through the door, which was a significant improvement over the last time she'd put up a struggle with going to school.
His daughter's temperament never failed to bring unwanted thoughts about where she acquired it from to mind.
"She'll be fine," Betsy said after Bella was out of sight. "I'll take care of her."
Relieved to finally be done with that, he turned to Betsy with a grateful smile. "Thank you. I was nearly ready to take her home."
Betsy smirked and ran her hand down his arm. "So, are we still on for dinner tonight?"
Right. Dinner.
He'd completely forgotten.
"Oh, uhm," he cleared his throat and fumbled for an excuse. "I'll have to let you know."
Betsy glanced at the door to her classroom, allowing him the first chance he'd had to appreciate the way her dress hung over her hips. "Depending on if she'll stay with Jenny or not, right?"
He chuckled. "She's a fiery one."
Betsy turned back to him with a laugh. "Just wait until she's a teenager. That's a whole other ballgame."
The very idea of it brought a groan up his throat. He'd rather battle redcoats. Actually, he'd rather fight the Horseman of Death with that blasted soul sucking sword.
"I'll not survive it."
Her hands slid around his waist as she stared up at him, her eyebrows raised. "Well, perhaps, I can help you out."
The implication in her words didn't slip by him, though he pretended like it did. Bella had made sure he was in no state to think that deeply at this point.
Shaking his head, he leaned and pressed a brief kiss to her lips before backing away with a smile.
"I'll see you later."
With that, he turned on his heel and started for the door, thoughts of the coming night already on his mind.
He needed a night out. Desperately.
It wasn't that he didn't adore making dinner with Bella and watching Disney movies over and over, but there was a very important thing he needed that his daughter simply couldn't provide.
Physical touch of the not so innocent nature.
It had been six years since the last time he'd properly bedded a woman and the desire to rectify that fact was plaguing him more with every passing day.
After Bella had come along, he hadn't much cared for companionship as he'd had all he needed in his little girl. Women and the urges that came while in their company had faded considerably.
Despite that, however, Abbie had told him countless times that he needed to put himself out there, if not for himself, then for Bella at least. She needed a mother, someone to provide stability and the sort of things every young girl needed.
His counter, of course, had been that she and Jenny could provide everything Bella would ever need and he need not resort to bringing a stranger into his angel's life.
However, Abbie, while admitting she loved Bella more than life, had argued that she was married to the FBI and Jenny constantly had something going on. She'd pressed that Bella needed more than a day here and there with her Aunts. She needed a mother.
So, then, Betsy had entered the picture.
To say he'd been a wreck on Bella's first day of preschool would be the mother of all understatements. She'd cried, he'd cried, and, by the end of it, her teacher had been near to tears with begging him to either leave Bella or take her back home.
His and Bella's hero had been Betsy, who had heard the commotion and left her own classroom to help the struggling single father who was weeping in the center of the school hallway while clutching his screaming little girl to his chest.
In no time at all, she'd coaxed Bella right out of his arms and even escorted her to her seat to show her there was absolutely nothing to be afraid of.
After that day, Betsy had become a staple of sorts. She helped with Bella's school and anything that came with it. She'd even gone so far as to bring Bella home on the few occasions when he'd been running late from work.
All in all, she'd been nothing short of a godsend.
Now, though, after a year of heavy flirting and suggestive touching, they were finally dating.
Well... secretly dating that is; at least, when it came to Bella knowing about it.
From the beginning, he'd been adamant about Bella remaining oblivious for her own emotional safety. The last thing he wanted was to get his daughter's hopes up and then disappoint her if things didn't work out.
Betsy had been understanding; even going so far as to agree with him that it was best for Bella to learn about them after they'd figured things out for themselves.
However, that had been four months ago and he sensed the issue would be rearing its head sooner rather than later.
It didn't help that the physical aspect of their relationship was progressing faster than he would have imagined and, while they hadn't went so far as to have sex yet, most everything leading up to it had been done; repeatedly and enthusiastically.
So, it wasn't presumptuous to imagine that the time for deciding just how far his relationship with Betsy was going to progress was definitely coming due and, by the time he was pushing the door to the offices at the museum open, he'd worked himself up into a ball of nerves.
"Oh, Mr. Crane, Agent Mills called and said she needs to speak with you asap." Gloria, his secretary stood from her desk and handed him a piece of paper. "And Mr. Billings is waiting in his office."
With a look down the hall to his boss's office, he frowned. "Our meeting isn't for another half an hour."
Gloria shrugged, the information clearly not news to her. "He didn't seem to be in the best of moods today, sir. I believe his wife asked for more money in their divorce and it had him in a right foul way."
"Perfect," he muttered as he started for his own office door. "I'll need some coffee, Gloria, and-"
"Right here, sir," she called as she lifted a mug from her desk.
When he raised an eyebrow at the already prepared coffee, she grinned and said, "I saw you parking."
Shaking his head, he met his secretary's dark eyes. "Thank you. I'm not sure what I'd do without you."
Gloria gave a motherly shake of her head; her graying hair never budging from her tight bun. "You'd survive just fine, sir."
Not agreeing in the least, he accepted the mug and turned to his office.
Mr. Billing's was a short, very moody and very wealthy, man. Alone, he owned half of Sleepy Hollow, including the museum. His family name had been in Sleepy Hollow since its founding and his grandfather had even built the school his daughter now attended. So, it was easy to understand that when Mr. Billing's wanted something, he tended to get it.
"I'm telling you, Crane," the man said as he paced in front of his large desk. "We need something new, something that will draw the public through our doors."
Shifting in his seat, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket for the third time, something he was doing his best to ignore.
"I understand that, Mr. Billings, and I'm mulling some ideas over, but-"
The office door opened, drawing both their gazes; one surprised and one agitated.
"Damn it, Gloria, how many times have I told you not to interrupt my meetings?"
Gloria barely acknowledged the man as her eyes sought him out with an urgency about her.
"Miss Jennifer just called. Apparently, something's happened with Bella at school and she's gone to pick her up."
On his feet before the last words left her mouth, he pulled his phone from his pocket to find two missed calls from the school and one from Jenny.
When he found no messages explaining what had happened, he started running toward the door.
"Did she say what happened?"
"No, sir," Gloria called as she followed him down the hallway. "Just that Bella had had an accident and needed you."
Fear clutched him as he grabbed his car keys from his desk and turned to leave his office.
"Please, apologize to Mr. Billings for me," he called over his shoulder as he opened the door and set off at a run.
He'd been halfway to the school when he'd finally gotten an answer from Jenny to say that she'd taken Bella back to his house.
Now, he was dashing up his porch steps and throwing the door open.
"Bella!?"
However, it wasn't Bella, but Jenny who appeared around the living room corner, her hands held up for him to slow down.
"Hey, she's changing her clothes."
"Changing her clothes?" he asked as he hurriedly walked across the room. "What happened that she'd need to do that?"
Before he could make his way down the hall, Jenny caught his arm and brought him to a stop.
"Crane, it's happened."
Confusion swept through him as he turned to meet Jenny's worry filled eyes. "What do you mean? What's happened?"
"She was sitting at her desk, taking her math test. She said she couldn't remember an answer and got really upset. The next thing she knew, her desk was on fire."
"Wha-" He backed away from Jenny and sagged against the wall, his mind a tumult of disbelief. "Her magic."
As he attempted to absorb what was happening, Jenny crossed her arms, a seriousness he was unaccustomed to coming over her.
"We knew this was going to happen."
Wearily bringing a hand to his head, he whispered, "I'd hoped it wouldn't."
"Crane," Jenny said softly. "Bella's a good girl. She's going to be alright."
Shaking his head, he looked up at his friend helplessly. "What if she's not? She's already so much like her. I can't do this again."
With a sigh, Jenny shrugged her shoulders. "Look, I called Abbie. She's on her way over. We'll sort this out when she gets here, but, right now, there's a very scared little girl in there wanting her dad."
Nodding in a way that he felt was rather dumbly, he pushed himself away from the wall and walked the few feet to Bella's door.
As he stared at the glow in the dark stars circling her stenciled name, he found himself afraid. Not of his daughter, but of the future that was now laid before her. This wasn't a fate he'd wanted for her. It was one he'd done his best to pretend didn't exist; pretend wouldn't exist.
Carefully pushing the door open, he peeked his head inside to see her lying on her bed, clutching her favorite stuffed puppy, Trigger. The puppy had been a gift from Abbie on Bella's first birthday and not a night had gone by since that she didn't have that animal in her arms as she slept. No matter how angry she might get over Abbie always making her obey, Bella still adored her Aunt.
The closer he moved toward her, the more obvious the look of abject fear on her face became. It was enough to move his feet at a quicker pace across the carpeted floor.
"Bella?"
Her body shot up at his voice, her gold-green eyes searching him out.
"Daddy," she whispered as she reached for him, her short arms outstretched wide.
Gently sitting beside her on the bed, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap while being careful not to knock Trigger off the bed.
"It's alright, sweetheart," he softly whispered as he rocked her. "I've got you."
Her small body trembled as she clutched him. "I did something bad."
"No, no," he said as he tugged her back to catch her eyes. "That's not what happened."
Tears overtook her puffy cheeks as she shook her head. "I felt it, daddy. I did that."
Words escaped him as he stared helplessly at his daughter. How could he possibly explain this to her? He couldn't just tell her she was a witch. That was too much for a grown man to handle, much less a distraught five year old girl who was afraid of spiders and clowns.
"Am I a freak, daddy?"
Disheartened she'd ever come to that conclusion about herself, he ran his fingers through her long hair.
"Of course not, you're just special." He sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Bella, you have a gift that's very rare."
Her face contorted into one of protest. "Take it away, daddy."
How he wished he could do just that.
"I-I can't, sweetheart." He pulled her close to his chest again. "But I promise it'll be alright."
As he rocked his trembling little girl, he caught sight of the picture on her bedside table and felt his own breathing shallow.
This was her fault.
"I've researched this until I'm blue in the face," Abbie said as she paced the length of his kitchen counter, her hair up in a half hazard pony tail and her hands gesturing every which way. "Spells, potions. There's all kinds of stuff out there to help us deal with this. We'll just bind her magic until she's older."
"Bind her magic?" Jenny asked as she leaned back on her stool. "I really don't think that's a good idea, Abs."
"Well, what do you suggest, Jenny?" Abbie placed both hands on the counter to face her sister, her agitation clear. "None of us are witches. We can't teach her how to control this. I think we all know what happened to Grace."
The mention of Abbie's ancestor, a casualty of his young son's magic, caused him to flinch.
"I say we go right to the source."
Lifting his head from his hands, he turned to look at Jenny. "What?"
Jenny shrugged as her gaze fixed on the counter.
"Look, I know the two of you don't want to face this fact, but we do have a witch who can help us." Jenny caught his eyes. "A very personally invested witch."
His chair toppled with the force he used to stand. "Absolutely not!"
"Crane-"
"Have you lost your senses?"
Jenny rolled her eyes. "I think I would be the best judge on if this was a good idea or not. I am the only one of the three of us in direct contact with her."
With crossed arms, Abbie firmly shook her head. "Jenny, she tried to kill us."
"And she's paid for that," Jenny argued, her voice raising. "Look, I'm not her biggest fan or anything. I never even really liked her in the first place, but she lost everything. Anyone would go crazy in those circumstances."
"I can't believe you're even suggesting this," Abbie said as she leaned against the counter. "This had got to be the craziest idea you've ever had... and that's saying something."
As the two of them fell into argument, he walked down the hall and into Bella's room.
She was curled under her covers, Trigger clutched in her arms again.
Carefully pulling her blanket over her shoulders, he ran his fingers through her hair and observed the light flutter of her eyelids. She was such a beautiful creature, one he'd go to any lengths to protect.
"I'm going to make sure you're safe, Bella," he whispered, tears clouding his vision. "I promise you that."
The picture on her bedside table caught his attention again, prompting him to reach for it.
Bella had begged for a picture of her mother.
As opposed to the idea as he'd been, he'd been unable to refuse such an innocent request. What child didn't deserve to know, at the very least, what her mother looked like? It was the kindest thing he could do for her given the circumstances.
The picture was a rare shot of the two of them; her head pressed against his shoulder as they read together on a park bench. One of Abbie's coworkers from the police station had taken it during one of their annual picnics, unbeknownst to both of them.
How had everything gone so horrible wrong?
Sighing, he set the picture down and pushed himself up before heading back into the kitchen.
"I need to go for a walk," he said as he made his way toward the door. "Call me if Bella wakes up."
"Crane, you can't just leave," Abbie protested as she came around the counter. "We have to figure out what to do about this."
Tiredly pulling the door open, he glanced at his old friend. "I need to think. Please, Abbie."
The hard lines in her forehead softened as she waved her hand and turned back to her sister. "Yeah, we'll call you."
For five long years, he'd avoided these tunnels.
Since the night of Bella's birth, he'd not been back down here, clambering in the darkness, searching for hope; for anything to make this wretched world bearable.
Quietly sliding the steel door open, he ignored the hammering of his heart as he stepped into the outer room of the chamber that had once held the Horseman of Death, himself, captive.
That had been so very long ago, when the war had been raging at its hardest and everything had seemed so out of control.
If only he'd known, then, the heartache that would soon face him.
Candle light flickered through the window, illuminating the inner room and casting shadows along the stone walls. Books stacked floor to ceiling drew his attention, bringing to memory all the times he'd spent reading them while rocking Bella to sleep. Those had been such precious moments to him. His love of learning and his angel all packaged into one sitting.
Over time, he'd sent them all down here, one by one, care of Jenny, to be read by another, one he did his best not to think of in any place other than his dreams.
Leaning against the window, he searched the room, his eyes first finding the thick chain stretched along the concrete floor.
His stomach turned at the sight of it, at the knowledge that at its end was one he had once loved more than life itself.
Eyes tracing the chain, he followed it to the corner of the room, past a four poster bed, another item he'd supplied early on, to a desk.
Breathing faltering, he slumped forward and gripped the widow panel.
There she was. Red hair tumbling down her back in thick waves. A modern dress tucked neatly around her as she sat in the desk's chair with her back to him.
Five years.
Shoving himself away from the window, he stumbled to the doorway and pushed the wooden door open.
Vanilla hit his nose as he stepped into the room, his eyes focused on her back.
She didn't acknowledge him.
Of course, why should she? She likely thought he was Jenny, her only visitor and caretaker.
In truth, Jenny had been the only person he could trust with this task as Abbie would have killed her, or vice versa, and he hadn't had the courage until now.
Did he have the courage? He still wasn't sure as every footstep was a challenge.
As he circled the table, he did his best to calm his racing heart.
What would he say? What would she say? Would she rise to her feet and try to strangle him as she did the night Bella was born? Would she curse him? Wish him dead as she had so many times before?
When he was finally standing a few feet in front of the desk, he noticed she never once looked up, never once made movement to signal she even knew someone was present.
She was writing in a journal, another thing he'd purchased and had sent to her; one a month, to jot her thoughts into for their daughter.
It was something he'd thought of during one of Bella's late night feedings. She'd been screaming at the top of her lungs when he'd picked her up, angry at the world for being put down and seemingly left to starve.
However, before he'd been able to put the bottle to her mouth, she'd calmed nearly immediately, her gold-green eyes staring up at him in wonder.
It had been a moment like no other.
There he was, with the tiniest, most precious creature in the world staring up at him with complete trust, and all he'd wanted to do was share that moment with her mother.
So, for Bella's sake, he'd had journals sent down here so she'd at least have something of her mother preserved for her to relate to one day. It was the least he could do.
Unable to stand another moment of this torture, he cleared his throat.
It was like time slowed down just for this moment.
Ever so slowly, her head lifted and, then, those same gold-green eyes he found so hard to resist in his daughter met his gaze.
"Hello, Katrina."
Phew, well, there's the start. More to be revealed soon. Please, let me know what you think. Thanks!
By the way, the rating for this might change. I'm not sure yet.
Next up: Ichabod and Katrina talk and we discover what happened the night Bella was born.
