We walked through the thick forest of pines bordering the southeastern edge of the corn until we reached a large clearing.
“Heartbreak Tree.” Dane pointed to a lone tree in the distance—an old weeping willow set in the middle of a field. Its branches spilled to the ground like an overfilled glass of champagne.
“I know that tree,” I whispered. “Why do they call it Heartbreak Tree?” I asked as I wandered into the field to find it littered with stones of all shapes and sizes. Some of the rocks had notes tied to them, like Marie’s; others were painted with hearts and initials.
Dane followed me. “People come here to deliver proclamations of love to the Great Spirit. They write a note and tie it to a rock and hope their love wish will be granted.”
I reached down to pick up one of the stones, but he stopped me.
“It’s bad luck to pick up a stone that doesn’t belong to you.” He brushed my elbow and I almost lost my train of thought.
“Have you ever written a note?” I asked.
He stared off at the tree for a moment, a bittersweet smile washing over his face. “If I had, I promise you’d know.”
As we approached the tree, Dane held back the thick fringe of branches so we could all step inside.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered as I walked the inner circumference of the tree, letting the soft branches graze my outstretched fingertips. The breeze trickled in, making the leaves shiver. It felt like a sanctuary.
The gnarled gray trunk appeared to be split in two.
Beth looked up at the branches. “They say when she died, the tree broke, just like her heart.”
“But the tree lived,” Dane said, his voice thick with emotion. “It changed and grew, weaving its way through every obstacle.” He smoothed his hand against the trunk and looked at me, eyes glistening. “Love is stronger than death.”
Beth whispered something to Rhys and his cheeks flushed a deep pink.
“Of course it is.” Rhys shook his head in disgust and pulled me aside. “You know what this place is, right? Beth just told me it’s basically the sex tree.”
“Really?” I felt my entire face light up.
“We need to move on.” Rhys glared at Dane and then crashed through the flowing branches, getting all tangled up. Beth had to help him get free.
I started to follow when Dane pulled me back by my waist, wrapping his arms around me. “Stay.”
The beat of his heart, the feel of his warm breath in my hair, sent tingles across my skin.
“Ash!” Rhys yelled from the other side of the branches.
“I wish.” I let out a deep unsatisfied sigh as I pried myself away.
Before I pulled back the branches to step outside, I looked back at Dane—he was leaning against the trunk—those eyes—I still couldn’t tell exactly what color they were. “I’m beginning to feel like a racehorse, stuck at the starting gate.”
“You’re the dark horse,” he whispered.
Reluctantly, I left the safety of the branches.
34
CROWS
AS WE PASSED Silk Pond, a dark feeling moved through me. This was the last place Katia and Alonso were alone together—the place of their ill-fated final meeting. I didn’t blame Marie for telling Coronado where to find Katia and Alonso. She was a young girl, manipulated by a master. But you can’t choose who you fall in love with. I remembered my mother telling me the Larkin women fall too hard, too fast, and too fierce. I looked up at Dane and knew she was right.
As we crested the small hill, a shadow crossed my face. I looked up to see a black bird soaring high above. Was it possible Coronado was watching us right now? Trying to find a way in?
“There it is,” Beth chirped as she pointed to a dilapidated cottage nestled in the woods below. As we got closer, trinkets hanging from the eaves became visible, clinking together like dense blocks. I squinted to see what they were made from, and a chill marched over my skin. They were bones. Hundreds of delicate bones strung together like Christmas lights.
“Teresa won’t take handouts. She finds her own food.” Dane nodded toward the half dozen dishes of food in varying states of decomposition, littering her front steps like a giant unwelcome mat.
I peeked in the filthy front window to see Teresa sitting perfectly still in a rocking chair, staring at the wall in front of her. Expressionless. The same way I’d discovered her at the Mendoza lodge.
Rhys knocked on the door and Teresa’s eyes darted to the window, focusing in on my face with a sharpness that cut right through me. Dane took my hand and led me away from the window, up the front porch steps and over the threshold. He seemed just as apprehensive as I was as we stepped inside the dark house.
Through the disarray of dead leaves, broken glass, and bubbled-up wallpaper that curled around the seams to expose the black mold underneath, I could tell that someone had once cared about Teresa enough to try and make this a home for her.
I wondered if this is what would become of me, too. Would I have to be tucked away in a little cottage, or a little asylum?