I slung my backpack over my shoulder, and we walked back through the pasture and up to the front porch of the house. I stopped to brush off my shoes, but Morgan ran right inside, tracking muddy gunk all over the clean, polished floors. Penny would not be happy with that. I sighed and followed Morgan into the library. She sat with her elbows resting on the table with her face in her hands.

I sat down, took a deep breath, and smiled at the little girl.

“What were you studying with your previous tutor?”

“Letters and numbers.”

“You are seven years old, correct?”

“Seven and a half.”

“You should be in second grade, right?”

“I don’t know?”

“OK. Why don’t you show me what you know."

She produced an alphabet book from the stacks directly behind the table and plopped it down in front of me. She proceeded to recite letters and sounds while flipping the pages of the big picture-book. I was silent. The child should be reading sentences by now. Letter recognition and sound indication were kindergarten level at best. She finished the book and closed the back cover, looking at me for approval.

“Very good,” I said.

“That’s just what my tutor wanted me to learn. I can read too,” the child said. “Mommy reads to me, and I can repeat what she says. Want to see?”

“Sure.”

She took out a thick old tome and began to recite the words written within.

“Human reason, in one sphere of its cognition, is called upon to consider questions, which it cannot decline, as they are presented by its own nature, but which it cannot answer, as they transcend every faculty of the mind. It falls into this difficulty without any fault of its own. It begins with principles, which cannot be dispensed with in the field of experience, and the truth and sufficiency of which are, at the same time, insured by experience. With these principles it rises, in obedience to the laws of its own nature, to ever higher and more remote conditions. But it quickly discovers that, in this way, its labours must remain ever incomplete, because new questions never cease to present themselves; and thus it finds itself compelled to have recourse to principles which transcend the region of experience, while they are regarded by common sense without distrust. It thus falls into confusion and contradictions, from which it conjectures the presence of latent errors, which, however, it is unable to discover, because the principles it employs, transcending the limits of experience, cannot be tested by that criterion. The arena of these endless contests is called Metaphysic.”

“You are a fan of Immanuel Kant?” I said, checking the book cover.

“Mommy picked it.”

“I see. You read quite well. Quite well indeed. Beyond your grade level. From what I see, you aren’t behind at all.”

“Mommy read it. No one knows but you.”

“Oh. In that case, we will continue your education while incorporating your mommy’s help. Does that sound good?”

“Yes!”

“How is your mommy with math?”

We worked for the rest of the afternoon. It turned out that Mommy was much better at math than I was and embarrassed me with her calculus skills. After we’d messed around with advanced mathematics, I threw the scratch paper away, in case anyone might see it, and went back to basic addition and subtraction. I asked Morgan to let her mommy take a break while we worked alone. After she dismissed whatever part of her mind represented “Mommy,” the girl struggled with the most basic mathematical concepts. She could barely add two and two.

Either the child was being helped by the spirit of her dead mother, or she was a genius with a highly fragmented mind. Considering my own experience contrasted deeply with my academic predisposition toward rationality, I couldn’t say for certain which it was.

Outside the library, I heard Penny gasp at the mud stains on the floor. The doors to the library flung open and Penny stood in the doorway, her face red and scowling.

“Who did this?” she shouted at Morgan.

“I did it, Penny. I’m so sorry. I’m so used to walking around on pavement; I just forgot to wipe my feet. I’ll clean it myself.”

“You’re right you will. Cleaning supplies are in the kitchen. Better hurry it up too because the hunting party will be back any minute, and we have more important things to worry about than your muddy shoes.”

She turned on her heel and walked away. Morgan looked at me, her dark eyes blinking. She placed her hand on my arm and smiled.

“Thanks. Penny’s mean. She’s always yelling at me.”

“Doesn’t your daddy stop her?”

“Daddy is always busy.”

“Well, you have me now. Lessons are over. Let’s clean up that mud.”

We walked back to the kitchen and retrieved mops and brooms from a broom closet. Morgan helped me carry the supplies into the entrance hall. We made quick work of the mud. It wasn’t such a big deal. The girl had only tracked it on bare wood floors. Next time, I would remind her to wipe her feet.

We put everything back, and I told Morgan to go wash up and get ready for dinner. She ran off happily, clomping up the stairs. I smiled with satisfaction. Maybe I could make this job work after all. Even though my student was either haunted or insane, and I had to work with an absentee father and a hostile maid. The place was lovely and Patty’s cooking was fantastic.

I wandered back into the kitchen and put the cleaning supplies away. Patty sat in the breakfast nook drinking a cup of tea and looked out the window. A massive pot of chili simmered on the stove. I sat down next to her and looked after what had her attention.

Down near the hunters lodge, an open-topped  jeep pulled up to the front doors with a black bear draped across the hood. A few men hopped out, and the jeep continued toward the barns.

“They’ll butcher and skin the bear. Clive knows how to tan the hide. It will be a nice trophy. And they’ll probably be wanting bear steaks tonight.”

“They can butcher that bear here?”

“Didn’t Joshua show you the slaughter house?”

“No. I missed that. And it was Daisy who showed me around.”

“Really? Sweet girl that Daisy. Nathanial has told her a hundred times she can bunk up here in the house, but she won’t have it. She says she’s outdoor help and will live out in the bunkhouse with the others.”

“I like her,” I said absently.

“You two are about the same age, aren’t you? Daisy could use a girlfriend, with all the time she spends around those men. I worry about her out there sometimes. But Daisy can take care of herself, I suppose.”

“When do you think I could speak with Mr. Ellis?”

“Well, I don’t know. He didn’t seem to be in a virtual meeting last time I brought him his tea. Why don’t you go speak with him now? His office is right down the hall from your room.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Go on. It’s his daughter you want to talk to him about isn’t it?”

I stood from the table feeling cold, even though it was warm in the house. I walked up the stairs almost in a shiver. Mr. Ellis and I hadn’t gotten off on the right foot last night. Maybe he thought I was incompetent. Questions ran through my mind as I tried to figure out what to tell him. I felt ragged and winded from my day outdoors in the crisp cool air. I approached his door and knocked. My knock sounded quiet and muffled so I knocked again with greater force.

“Come in.”

I pushed open the door and walked inside. He sat at his desk, looking like an upper-class businessman from anywhere in the world except a backwoods ranch. He continued typing at his computer and glanced up at me as I stood in front of his desk.

“Please sit.”

I sat in a straight-backed  arm chair facing his modern minimalist desk. The room had a high-rise New York vibe to it. Everything was steel, black and white, and clear glass. Even the artwork on the wall was minimalist black-and-white  photographs of architecture. Everything was very masculine and intimidatingly plain.

“What can I help you with Ms. Elder?”

“I wanted to report on my first lesson with Morgan. While the child has some… peculiarities, she doesn’t seem to be behind academically. In fact, she seems to be quite gifted and far ahead of her grade level.”

He took off his reading glasses and sat them on the glass-topped  desk in front of his white keyboard. His eyebrows drew together creating a deep crease between them. His expression was not pleased.

“We are talking about the same child, aren’t we? My daughter can barely read.”

“Yes. She told me she doesn’t show anyone she can read, but believe me, her reading level is quite high. She tells me,” I said, taking a deep breath, “that her mother reads to her, and she repeats it.”

“She keeps going on about her mother not being dead or something. I thought she would just grow out of it.”

“I would recommend she see a child psychologist. The level of fantasy and the fact that she connects it with her scholastic aptitude indicates a serious developmental issue.”

“Ms. Elder, that is why I brought you here.”

He picked up his glasses and continued typing. I wasn’t qualified to deal with the child’s psychological problems, but I didn’t want to mention that to Mr. Ellis again. I stood to leave, thinking of ways I could teach the girl while trying to get her to let go of the obsessive connection she had with her mother.

“Ms. Elder,” he said. I turned back to look at him. “I will be staying in the settler’s cabin tonight. It is the full moon, and the wolves come down from the mountains each month during the full moon to get into the livestock. It’s been happening for quite some time now. I protect the herd from the wolves, but Morgan hates that I do it. She will be quite agitated tonight. Could you stay with her please?”

“Yes sir,” I said, leaving the room. Why in the world would Mr. Ivy League boss man go out to protect the herd? Didn’t he have peons to do that?

When I reached the door of his office, I rolled my eyes as I walked out. He was probably the most irritating boss I’d ever had. I wished he would take his daughter’s issues more seriously. I wondered if I should quit so he would get the girl the help she needed, or if I should stay to ensure she at least got some help, any help.

I walked down the hall to my bedroom and unpacked my things. I was going to be here for at least two weeks, so I might as well tidy up my room. I folded my clothes into the chest-of-drawers and unpacked my books and other personal items onto the empty shelves. The few dresses and blazers I’d brought, I hung in the closet.

It didn’t take me more than an hour to unpack everything. When I finished, a surge of fatigue pounded my chest. I took off my boots and climbed under my covers, fully clothed. I wondered what Penny would think of me getting under my covers in dusty clothing. She would probably give me the stink eye. I didn’t care. My body felt exhausted. I closed my eyes and found myself quickly slipping into the netherworld of sleep.

 

All around me, pink petals dripped from blooming branches. I was back in the garden in nothing but lacy pink panties and thigh-high, sheer, white stockings. I sat on a puffy white blanket over thick green grass. I couldn’t see through the falling petals and the bowing branches that hung heavy with flowers to the ground.

I leaned back, feeling the warm breeze blow over my exposed nipples and the flesh of my round stomach. My red hair spilled down my shoulders, framing my breasts and accentuating the pale pink of my areolas and nipples. I felt enlivened and turned on by my own beauty. I giggled as I ran my hand up the inside of my thigh and over the thin fabric of my panties.

Owen stepped out from between the branches. He wore a white Greek toga that barely covered his hips. I could see the shadow of his cock below the pleated fabric. I smiled and raised my hand to him. He fell to me, covering me with kisses. His mouth licked and kissed over my breasts and down my stomach to play delicately over the fabric of my panties. I gasped at the sensation of his touch. He gripped my hips with his hands and buried his face in the soft skin of my thighs.

“Owen,” I breathed. “I know who you are.” I giggled with the last words, and he raised his face to look at me.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you Melody.”

“I’m Jane, silly.”

“Melody. You don’t remember yourself.” He kissed my thighs and tickled at the space between my legs. I leaned back on my elbows and lifted one leg over his muscled shoulder. He hooked a finger in my panties and pulled them aside, revealing the curling red hair below. His tongue flicked at my pink lips, and I tilted my head back.

“You can call me whatever you want, Owen,” I said as I lay down and let him pull my panties down my legs.

 

“Jane!” a voice shouted in my ear.

I shot up from the bed and looked around. It was twilight outside the window. I rubbed my eyes and looked at my assailant. It was Morgan, standing at the side of my bed, arms crossed.

“Patty says come to supper, or you get none.”

“Oh, of course.”

I swung my feet over the side of my bed and shoved them in my boots. Morgan trotted out of the room while I laced them up. My heart still pounded from my encounter with Owen. My body still yearned for his touch. I shook my head. I was making love to a ghost or something. If it didn’t feel so fantastic, and if I didn’t feel so completely comfortable with him in the dream, I might think it was a little strange. Everything in my world had become strange.

I trotted down the stairs with a spring in my step, thinking of Owen, and found my way to the kitchen. Mr. Ellis, Morgan, Patty, and Penny sat at the breakfast nook. A big pot of chili sat on the table next to a plate of crusty homemade bread. I slid in next to Morgan, where a place had been set for me, and I scooped some chili into the bowl.

In the distance, I could see the hunters and outdoor help carousing outside.

“They’re whooping it up over the bear hunt today,” said Patty.

“Everything will be a drunken mess in the morning,” said Penny.

Mr. Ellis didn’t say anything; he just scooped a spoonful of chili in his mouth and stared at a spreadsheet on his iPad. I took a bite of chili and then another. Patty was a fantastic cook when it came to home-style  food. It was three bean chili with some kind of sausage link and ground beef, stewed to perfection.

“This is delicious, Patty,” I said, taking another helping.

Mr. Ellis wiped his mouth and stood. “Thank you for dinner Patty. I have to be going now.” He wore REI yuppie outdoor gear from head to foot. The waterproof coat he swung around his shoulders accentuated his broad shoulders and tapered waist. I chastised myself for noticing his masculine physique. He was not my type, not my type at all.

“Daddy no!” Morgan jumped from the bench and clung to her father’s leg. He glared at me, and I stood to pull the girl back. Why did he have to announce he was leaving right in front of the child? He wasn’t getting points for father of the year.

“It’s going to be fine,” I whispered in her ear as I held her tight to my chest.

Mr. Ellis picked up a shotgun from the corner, slung it over his shoulder and stomped out of the room. I heard the front door slam moments later. Morgan fell into me, and tears poured from her eyes. I patted the girls long tangled black hair and cooed at her. I didn’t know what else to do.

Patty stood from the table and went to the kitchen island. She pulled off the top of a cake tray revealing a perfectly frosted cake.

“It’s devil’s food cake, your favorite, Morgan,” she said in a sing-song voice while holding a long knife. Patty sliced the cake and put a big piece on a plate at the girl’s place at the table. Patty sliced us all pieces, and I sat back down to enjoy it with the other women and Morgan. Penny only picked at hers and excused herself to go to bed.

After dinner, I helped Patty clean up the kitchen and then took Morgan upstairs. The girl told me she could bathe herself, so I let her take her own bath and put herself to bed. I went back to my room, changed into my pajamas, and changed into my fluffy, warm wool socks to keep my feet extra toasty. Outside my window, I could see the moon rising, big and full over the mountain.

The beauty of the landscape made me catch my breath, and I sat under the window gazing at the magnificence before me. A romance novel sat at my knee, and I hoped I would dream of Owen again so that we could finish what we’d started during my afternoon nap. I could hear the sound of the hunters down in the bunkhouse as they drank and smoked whatever they smoked. Daisy’s laughter cracked through the air, and I understood why she preferred to be down in the bunkhouse. It was just more fun. Plain and simple. I wondered if I could sneak down there to get a few drinks and do some flirting.

I sighed. I’d promised to be here for Morgan while her father was out at the cabin. I couldn’t go running out to a party. I turned off my lights and sank into bed and into the blackness of sleep. Owen didn’t come to me. No dreams came, only hazy darkness.

 

I woke suddenly to the sharp, ungodly howl of what must have been the world’s largest wolf. I jumped from my bed, heart pounding, and ran to the window. It sounded like the thing was right outside.

My door swung open and Morgan ran in to cling to my waist. Her body shook with fear, and I could feel her back drenched with sweat.

“It’s Daddy,” she whispered into my side.

“What? No, it’s just a wolf. Don’t worry. Your daddy will shoot it, and everything will be fine.”

“No he won’t. No it won’t.”

I pulled her into bed with me and stroked her hair, trying to calm her down. My sleep clouded mind tried to catch up with what was happening around me. The howl obviously wasn’t Mr. Ellis. Right?