My Wife Is Missing(80)
It couldn’t be the children. Was Chuck awake at this hour?
Natalie felt a stirring of fear. The shadow passed by quickly, silently too, allowing the hallway light to once again seep in underneath the door. She let go of the breath she’d been holding. It had to be Chuck, out doing something at this late hour.
She then heard a squeak, like a shoe dragging against the floor as it pivoted. The shadow outside her door returned, and this time it lingered. She heard the soft rapping of knuckles against wood.
Natalie jumped, pulling the covers up to her chin.
“Yes, who is it?” Her voice shook.
She got no answer. A gnawing worry raised the hair on her arms.
She heard another knock.
“Hello,” she cried out. “Who’s there? Chuck, is that you?”
Again, no answer.
Natalie willed herself out of bed. She stood, not feeling at all steady on her feet. With cautious steps, she approached the door. Sips of light from the hallway seeped into her bedroom from around both sides of the hovering shadow that lingered there. Fear made her skin tingle all over. It couldn’t be him, couldn’t be Michael. Was it possible he’d found her? Was it?
No, it’s Chuck, Natalie told herself as she reached for the doorknob. Michael wouldn’t knock. He’d come barging in, most likely in a violent rage. Setting one hand on the knob, the other on the door itself, Natalie contemplated what to do. Should she open the door or barricade herself inside?
She listened for a sound. Before she could take action, the shadow moved away again. Natalie waited a few seconds before daring to open the door. She stepped into the hall, spinning in the direction of the staircase, thinking she’d catch sight of whoever had been lurking outside her bedroom, whoever had knocked, but all was perfectly still. She immediately went into the children’s rooms, not bothering to be quiet about it, and found them both fast asleep, peaceful as angels.
She returned to the hallway, confused and disoriented. She thought about checking on Kate and Chuck to make certain they were okay, but she didn’t want to risk waking them. Explaining herself might make her confront the deeply unsettling possibility that the only things she’d seen and heard had come from her exhausted mind.
Damn sleep.
Natalie made her way downstairs despite her trepidation. She worried that someone could be in the house. But no, every room she checked was empty; all was quiet save for a knocking sound, the source of which she determined to be an old cast-iron radiator. Is that what she heard upstairs? Natalie thought of Camo Man in the Pennsylvania Walmart—her perceived stalker had been nothing but an innocent shopper. The flash of silver she thought was a knife had been only a stick of gum. She was losing it, and she knew it. At least she was safe here at the farm, or so she hoped.
Natalie returned to the kitchen, where the savory smells of dinner lingered—a delightful meal of chicken and biscuits that Kate had insisted she prepare without assistance. Even Bryce, who could be such a picky eater, had devoured the green beans (perhaps because they were drizzled with butter).
During dinner the children, both of whom wore their brand new Hildonen Farms T-shirts featuring that smiling cow, chattered tirelessly about their first day on the farm. Chuck, a barrel-chested man with a booming laugh that shook the house, listened intently, hanging on their every word as if they were delivering an important address. Natalie especially enjoyed the stories of Hank the farmhand, who had been kind enough to teach them some basic animal husbandry skills.
“The calves are the cutest,” Addie said from her seat across from Natalie at the dinner table. “I want to take one home with me. Can we, Mommy? Take home a cow? I’ll care for her I promise. I know how to feed her now. I promise, promise, promise she’ll be happy.”
Natalie laughed jovially.
“I don’t think there’s room in the house for a cow,” she said.
“We’ll keep him outside,” Addie answered as if that should have settled it.
“I can’t wait to show Daddy the cows!” Bryce announced.
At the mention of Michael, Kate flashed her a look of concern.
“Did you know a cow eats a hundred ten pounds of food a day?” Addie said to her mother.
“That’s a lot of mashed potatoes,” said Chuck as he shoveled a spoonful of that particular food into his mouth, a dollop of which got caught in his beard. Kate rolled her eyes and pointed to his face.
“I think you need a napkin, love,” she said, motioning for him to wipe his beard clean.
Thinking about that meal inspired Natalie to check the refrigerator, though nothing called to her. She wasn’t particularly hungry, more looking for something to do to make her forget the shadow, the squeak of a shoe, the knocking, forget that she might be cracking.
From a cupboard, Natalie got a drinking glass and poured herself some water. She tried to keep quiet, but Kate had already given her permission to make as much noise as she wanted.
“I get that you don’t sleep well,” she said before turning in for the night. “But I’m like a rock when the lights go out. Hardly move at all. You know, maybe you should work at the farm for a while, Nat. I’ve never slept so well until I started exerting myself the way I do with these cows.”
Natalie sipped from her glass while ruminating on Kate’s offer. Perhaps she would start working here while she rebuilt her life. She could picture herself waking up before the dawn, overalls on, carrying buckets of milk in her mud-caked hands.