Carrying what appeared to be a bundle of old blankets in his arms, Henry Parrish slipped in to the cottage on stealthy feet. Abraham was nowhere to be seen, and Katrina slept fitfully on a low sofa. The old man stood looking down impassively on the face of his young Mother for a moment before carefully depositing his burden by the woman's side.
The bundle of blankets stirred, and a little girl's sweet innocent face peered out from the folds of cloth. She appeared to be no more than six years old.
"Grandpa Henry? What's happening?" she asked sleepily.
"Shhhh."
Henry put a finger to the child's lips.
"Go back to sleep, Eliza. You will meet your babysitter soon enough."
"Yes, grandpa."
The little girl called Eliza smiled trustingly up at Henry and closed her eyes, falling instantly back to sleep.
Henry brushed a few strands of coppery-colored hair out of the child's face then stood up. Leaving a quick note for Katrina on the table, he left, closing the door softly behind him.
Whether from the sound of the closing door or just the disturbance of moving air near her, Katrina half opened her eyes. Feeling the warm bundle tucked in beside her, she automatically cuddled it to her chest and slept on.
Sometime later, the sound of a child's frightened wail brought Katrina awake and to her feet in an instant. She gasped, seeing a headless Abraham looming over a little girl who cowered away from him in the far corner of the room.
"Abraham, stop it!" Katrina shrieked, jumping in between the headless figure and the terrified child. "What are you doing?"
The little girl whimpered behind her, and Katrina reached back and pulled the child to her side in a protective embrace. When she looked up from the top of the child's head, Abraham again had his own head firmly on his shoulders.
"Katrina, what is this little hell spawn doing here?" Abraham demanded angrily.
"Abraham Van Brunt! Considering your own situation, you have no call to address this child that way, be she from hell or from Heaven," Katrina chastised him furiously.
The little girl buried her face against Katrina and continued to cry pitifully.
"Hush now darling," Katrina cooed, stroking the girl's fine hair with soft fingers.
"Can you tell me your name?"
"E-Eliza P-Parrish," the child hiccupped. "Are you m-my gran, Katrina? He said you were."
Abraham stormed out of the room, and Katrina shivered.
"Eliza Parrish," she repeated the child's name very slowly.
"And who is this 'he of which you speak, Little one?"
"Grandpa Henry," the child answered promptly, sounding a little more calm now that Abraham was no longer in sight.
She peered up at Katrina with tear filled blue eyes.
"Are you really his Mommy? But you're so young and pretty and Grandpa Henry is so old."
Oh, Jeremy, whom or what have you left me with? Katrina fretted silently.
She led the child over to the table and picked up Henry's note:
Good morning, Mother,
I trust you slept well?
Forgive me for being presumptuous, but since you will not be going anywhere this day, you can mind my little Eliza for a few hours until I return, can you not? She is a good girl, mostly, so should be no trouble at all.
I am certain you will enjoy the company. I apologize if Abraham is put out by the temporary arrangements.
I shall collect her this evening.
Your loving son,
Henry
Katrina carefully folded the note and slipped it in to a pocket.
Abraham had left them some food.
"Come and join me, Eliza," Katrina motioned and the child obediently sat in the chair next to hers. As they ate, Katrina observed the little girl, taking note of her near perfect table manners, and she pondered the great mystery of Eliza Parrish.
TBC