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“Or she,” Toby said. Her legs were weak, as the emotion of the story had taken the energy out of her.
“No, it’s a boy. I know these things.”
Toby looked at her and nodded her head. Dr. Huntley had said as much about Jilly.
“I do not usually tell people what I see and feel, but I think you and I are kindred souls. And I believe your dream may have been real. I have worried about you since you married Garrett. I think that what you told me tonight was what I was seeing. You may trust me that no doctor will attend you. Valentina and I will make sure of that.”
“Thank you,” Toby said, and with the assurance, the overwhelming sleepiness began to return and she leaned heavily on Parthenia.
It was when they reached the lane that they heard the pounding of horse hooves on the cobblestones. The women halted and looked in the direction of the sound.
“Something is amiss,” Parthenia said.
The horse came closer to them but didn’t seem to be in danger of slowing down. When it was almost upon them, a flash of lightning cut through the night. Before them was a horse as black as the air around them. On top of it was Graydon, his snowy cravat clearly visible above his dark jacket. But above that was nothing. Where his head should have been was empty.
But in the crook of his left arm was Graydon’s head, with its lifeless face, eyes closed, hair tied neatly back.
Toby looked up at the apparition on the horse, holding the head of the man she loved, turned to Parthenia, gave a little smile—then fainted.
When Toby awoke, she didn’t at first know where she was. There was such a deep silence around her that she felt as though she’d awakened in a vacuum. It took a moment for her eyes to clear and for her to realize that she was in her bed in Nantucket. Her cell phone was beside her bed, her iPad on the dresser, her laptop on her desk. Twenty-first century.
The room was dimly lit but she could see sunlight under the shades. Turning her head, she saw that there was no indentation in the pillow. Graydon hadn’t slept beside her.
She put her hands on her stomach. Flat and empty. Instantly, tears came to her eyes. No baby, no husband, silent house.
“You’re awake,” Jilly said from the doorway, a tray of breakfast in her hands.
Toby pulled herself up and quickly brushed away the tears. “They’re gone, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Jilly said.
“Graydon was with them? He is well? Healthy?”
Jilly put the tray down. “Very healthy—if a man as truly miserable as he is can be called that. Why would you ask such a question?”
“I just wanted to know if he had his head on straight.” She tried to smile at her joke, but couldn’t.
Jilly took a big envelope from the tray. “Graydon asked me to give this to you.”
When Toby opened it, out fell another envelope and a small book. As Jilly quietly left the room, Toby opened the smaller envelope.
My Dearest,
I could not bear to wake you, but my father called for his sons to appear together. I am his loyal subject and must return.
Please do not forget me. With all my love forever,
GM
Toby dropped the letter onto the coverlet. At the moment she didn’t know how she felt about anything. It was all too soon and too raw for her to feel.
She picked up the little book and looked at it. It was old and raggedy, the cover torn and faded. Forbidden Nantucket was the title. “The stories the people of Nantucket don’t want told,” it read below the title.
She opened it to a marker and saw a drawing of a man in Regency dress atop a large, dark horse. The horse was rearing up on its back legs and in front of it was a middle-aged man holding a doctor’s bag, his hand to his mouth as he suppressed a scream. He was terrified because the man on the horse had no head on his shoulders. The gruesome-looking head was tucked into the crook of his left arm and grinning maniacally.
The story with the gory picture was short. It said that in the early 1800s a local man had dressed up as a headless horseman and chased a Dr. Hancock, who was so frightened that he ran to the wharf and spent the night hiding inside a half-empty barrel of rum. In the morning he boarded the first ferry off the island and he never returned to Nantucket. The question the author asked was why was the good doctor chosen to be terrorized? He was merely visiting on that cold autumn night, a guest at a wedding, and had never before been to Nantucket. But it was said that the horseman chased him, and no one else, halfway around the island.
The book concluded by saying that when the author interviewed Nantucketers—this in 1963—no one wanted
