Spring Raine

by Delia Latham

  Raine pulled under the carport at Paradise Pines, helped her passenger out, and took both of Miss Angie’s hands in her own. “How did you know? About Skye?”

  “Oh. Well…” Miss Angie’s blue eyes clouded with a prettily confused expression. “Didn’t you mention her?”

  “No, Miss Angie. I never talk about my sister.” Raine sniffed and swallowed a sob. “Never.”

  “Really, dear? Well, perhaps you should.” Miss Angie patted Raine’s cheek and nodded her head toward the trail in the woods. “Declan is most likely home right now.”

  A low chuckle burst from Raine’s lips, startling her. “You’re a pretty smooth operator, but I’m on to you.” She bent to kiss a dewy-soft, gently lined cheek. “I’m not finished with this subject, you know. For now, though, can I help you get inside?”

  “No, you just run along and find my big, bad ogre of a neighbor.” A burst of sweet laughter soothed Raine’s ragged nerves.

  She placed a hand on each side of Miss Angie’s face and held the woman’s gaze, trying to see beyond the surface to what lay beneath. “There’s something special about you,” she whispered. “Someday I’ll figure it out.” Then she turned and headed for the path to Declan’s place.

  “Raine, dear?”

  She swung back in response to the soft call.

  “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” After blowing a kiss in her direction, Miss Angie set off toward the lodge door.

  Raine gave her head a sharp shake, unsure what that cryptic message meant. Another hitching sob sent her into the shadowy woods, and she found herself incapable of calming the fresh storm of tears even as she approached Dec’s cabin.

  But Dec wasn’t working in his “outside office” where Raine had startled him the day they met. She hesitated, but finally walked around the log-framed house and knocked on the door. He didn’t answer.

  She wandered the property for almost an hour, trying to clear her troubled mind, and then sat quietly, rocking back and forth on Dec’s porch swing, for another half-hour or so. Finally, it occurred to her that her reluctance to leave stemmed from the fact that she’d begun to believe Miss Angie somehow knew everything. If she thought Dec was home, then he would be. But how silly, after all.

  Miss Angie was a sweet, wise woman, but she was not omniscient.

  Her lips twisted into a self-derisive half grin and she gave a wry shake of her head. Finally beginning to get a handle on her emotions, she headed back through the wooded footpath. Maybe it was best Dec hadn’t been available. She shouldn’t be running to him with her out-of-control emotions when she didn’t understand them herself.

  Skye had been gone a long time. Why should the mere mention of a sister she’d lost close to two decades ago trigger such a strong reaction? Dec probably would have found her tears confusing and irrational.

  Only a bare sliver of reflective sunlight remained visible over the horizon when she emerged from the trees and approached the lodge. Darkness had begun to fall in a visible rush. Good thing she’d started back when she had. The thought of walking through those woods after nightfall shivered her nerves. Rounding the back of the structure, she approached the stairs leading to the upper floor, and then hesitated, one foot on the bottom step.

  A light from the forested area on the east side of the property caught her attention. She backed away from the stairs and took a few hesitant steps toward the strange circle of brightness.

  This wasn’t a beam like a flashlight would emit, but a glow…one that lit the trees with a glimmering radiance. A streak of something akin to awe made its way up Raine’s spine, and she struggled to pull in a breath. Flashes of old movies featuring UFOs and other strange phenomena raced through her head as her feet moved of their own volition toward the shimmering bit of woods.

  Step by hesitant step, her heart beating out a timpani rhythm, she drew closer to the strange but beautiful luminosity. Upon reaching the edge of the trees, she hauled in a lungful of courage and eased into the shadowy forest, moving hesitantly through twenty feet or so of murky darkness. Her breathing quickened and a hand flew up to cover the gasp she could not contain when she reached the edge of a small clearing.

  Miss Angie sat on the ground in the center of the space, her face and hands lifted upward. The glow emanated not from the woman, but from all around her—the sky, the trees…even the ground shone with an ethereal glow. This was no uncharacteristic display of lunar radiance—in fact, the moon seemed to have taken the evening off. No, this was something far bigger, infinitely more mind-boggling.

  Those things alone were enough to steal Raine’s breath, but the wonder didn’t stop with the softly glowing surroundings.

  A young fawn, its back still bearing the telltale markings of infancy, lay curled into the bend of Miss Angie’s knee. The young animal slept soundly, while a doe—the mother?—stood nearby, head lifted gracefully, as if joining the woman in prayer.

  Across the small glade, a large buck faced the woods on that side, regal head high and stiffly on guard, as if to protect the occupants of the clearing.

  On the woman’s lap, a white bunny hunkered calmly, its little face lifted up toward hers.

  While Raine watched, suspended in time and space, with not even a breath escaping to lend some semblance of normality, Miss Angie lowered her arms. With her face still raised to the sky, eyes closed, she stroked the animal’s soft ears with one hand. The other rested on the young deer’s back.

  Various forest creatures moved in unexpected harmony all around the open space. A few feet from the praying woman, three young squirrels bounced upon and tussled with one another, joyously celebrating life. They seemed not only unfazed by Miss Angie’s presence, but even to welcome it. And were they truly unaware of Raine lurking in the shadows, or simply unafraid?

  A fat raccoon watched the small creatures at play, his little black eyes reflecting the beautiful glow that emanated from everywhere and nowhere. Tiny paws looked almost like miniature human hands as they clutched a bit of some edible on which the animal nibbled, his gaze never leaving the squirrels.

  Raine swallowed hard as she noticed bright dots of yellow-gold light scattered at various levels amongst the surrounding trees. Eyes. While the little menagerie of forest creatures in the darkening clearing boggled her mind, the animals within sight were but a small portion of those gathered to watch—or perhaps to join Miss Angie in prayer.

  A warm tear dropped off her chin, leaving behind a tickle of moisture. Surprised, she lifted a hand to brush at the tingle. She hadn’t even known she wept. As she stared, transfixed, at the scene in the clearing, one hand still on her cheek, a butterfly flitted out of nowhere and lit on her finger. She pulled in a breath that refused to be released, her gaze fixed on the beautiful blue wings that fluttered in gentle waves. Raine had never heard of a blue monarch, but this little guy sure fit the description. One more thing she’d want to learn more about.

  Slowly, she brought her hand in front of her face, expecting the butterfly to dart off at any second, but it didn’t. Raine couldn’t look away from the delicate creature, and at the back of her mind, a distant memory stirred, just for an instant, bringing with it a deep soul sadness. Only the beauty and wonder of the scene in which she found herself kept her from falling to her knees, weeping out a sorrow she could not define.

  At last, the insect lifted off her finger. It rose to brush softly against her cheek—soft, gentle, like the kiss of an angel. Then it flew off, only to alight atop Miss Angie’s white hair, which in the unearthly glow took on a shimmering halo effect.

  Awed, Raine backed away from the scene, thinking she’d stumbled onto a ceremony meant only for the eyes of God. Before she turned and hurried inside, her gaze returned once more to the woman in the clearing, wondering at the utter peace reflected in that uplifted face.

  Raine doubted she would ever again see anything so breathtakingly lovely. She slipped into her apartment, still under the overwhelming power of the
scene she’d witnessed, and without conscious thought, fell to her knees beside the sofa. Rivers of tears rained down her face as, for the first time in her life, she truly opened her heart to God.

  Raine had always considered herself a Christian. She’d mouthed a few prayers, read her Bible occasionally, and almost always attended Sunday morning service with her parents. Somewhere around the age of twelve, she’d made a formal commitment, but even so, she’d never really known her Savior.

  The scene in the woods had awakened a deep longing for more than a superficial Christianity. She yearned for a relationship with her heavenly Father…something real and personal that would break all human boundaries. Something like what she’d seen reflected on Miss Angie’s face in the woods.

  Raine found God waiting with open arms.

  For almost her entire life, she had kept the beloved older sister she’d lost so long ago tucked into a guarded, closed-off place in her heart, a place the pain couldn’t reach. Now she opened the door and allowed that loss to wash over her.

  Releasing those long-held emotions wasn’t as difficult as she’d feared. Barely seven when Skye died, most of her memories of her older sister had been lost to time. Then again, perhaps the reflective glory of the scene in the woods softened the rush of pain, buffered the overwhelming sense of loss. Whatever the reason, Raine felt herself almost physically and tangibly sheltered in a pair of loving, gentle arms…wrapped in a warm blanket of pure Love.

  Almost an hour passed before she stood to her feet and brushed the last of the tears from her face. She crossed to the window and peered toward the spot she would forever think of as something akin to “the holy of holies.”

  The glow had vanished. If she walked out there now, there’d be no sign of the divine tableau she had beheld earlier. This knowledge came from somewhere deep within her, but she knew it to be true without a second’s doubt.

  She couldn’t explain it, and she would never mention it to Miss Angie—although something told her the lady was aware there’d been a witness to her prayer time—but she knew in her heart that she’d caught a glimpse of something most people were never blessed to witness on earth.

  And having seen it, something inside of her had forever changed.

  7

  “Let’s take a ride. I want to show you something.”

  Three days after the emotional one spent mostly with Miss Angie, Raine still hadn’t left the lodge. She remained in a quiet, thoughtful mood, filled with an inner peace she’d never experienced and still didn’t understand. She’d avoided being with anyone, instead drinking in the sweet joy of being alone with God. Her balcony, with its distant view of the ocean, provided a perfect place to commune with Him and to delve into His Word. She’d enjoyed running across passages already familiar to her because she’d heard Miss Angie quote them.

  Now she held the door open, for the moment having forgotten to invite her visitor inside.

  Even his invitation hung in the air unanswered.

  She must be making quite an impression. Raine made a conscious effort to gather her thoughts. “Right now?”

  “You’ve got something better to do?”

  Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut and hiked her chin just a hair. “Actually, I was relaxing with a really good book.”

  “Oh. Well, OK.” Dec turned and started down the stairs. “Another time then.”

  Raine bit her lip. The book wasn’t really that great, and the man on her steps looked as if he’d walked straight out of a fashion catalogue. Stonewashed jeans molded to his hips, and a pullover shirt the exact blue-gray of his eyes hugged all the right places, revealing a hint of the muscled torso beneath.

  “W-wait!”

  He turned, both brows hiked, those precisely shaped lips stretched in a knowing grin.

  She rolled her eyes. He’d known she wouldn’t let him leave.

  “Changed your mind then?”

  “Give me two minutes.” She zipped into the bedroom and ran a brush through her hair. Thank God her thick tresses didn’t require an enormous amount of attention. She’d always been too busy to stress over her appearance. A sweater over her jeans and red flannel shirt would be fine—unless Dec had fancy plans he hadn’t mentioned. With no time to worry about that possibility, she hurried outside to join him where he waited beside his SUV. “Where are we going?”

  “Pismo Beach.” He opened the passenger door and waited while she settled inside. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume you’ve never seen the butterfly grove.”

  “The—what?” Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of butterflies. Coincidence, of course. But…was it? She hadn’t forgotten the wonder of that surreal butterfly kiss in the God-lit clearing. That’s how she’d come to think of the strange, beautiful glow in the woods. She could try to convince herself there’d been a moon after all, but her heart knew the truth. What she’d seen could only be called the light of God.

  “Hey. You OK?” Dec’s hand touched her arm, and she raised her gaze to his troubled one. His lips quirked upward, but the little wrinkle between his eyes didn’t go away. “You don’t have some kind of butterfly phobia, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not.” She buckled in and dredged up a light-hearted smile. “It’s called lepidopterophobia, by the way. So, are we going, or did you plan to sit here all afternoon?”

  He laughed and swung the SUV around the circular driveway, heading toward the highway. “Seriously? Why would you just happen to know the name of that particular fear?”

  Her sister’s graceful form and beautiful, fun-loving smile danced across her mind in a cloudy burst of vague memory, just as it had when the butterfly landed on her finger. Raine almost thought she knew the answer to Dec’s question, but…no, the glimpse of revelation had flown away.

  He watched her closely, clearly troubled by something in her expression.

  She shot him a smile she hoped was reassuring. “I’ve always had a bit of a fascination with butterflies. I must’ve come across the word somewhere and it planted itself in my weird brain.” A sudden ache had her clearing her throat and blinking back moisture in her eyes. “I didn’t even know I knew it until you mentioned the phobia.”

  Dec grinned. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She shook her head, pinching her lip between her teeth hard enough to hurt.

  “Well”—Dec shrugged—“you do love to read, and stranger things have happened. Still, are you sure you want to go? I don’t want to pull you away from a ‘really good book’ just to make you hang out in this vehicle with me.”

  Raine chuckled, determined to overcome the sudden wave of melancholy. She could think of far worse ways to spend a day than being in Dec’s company.

  “Don’t be silly. I want to go. So, tell me about this butterfly grove. You’re right, I’ve never seen it. Never heard of it either.”

  “It’s pretty amazing. You’re in for a treat.”

  “OK, but what is it?”

  He laughed. “A migration. An enormous number of monarch butterflies come here each year to find shelter from the northern winters, which are, of course, much colder and harsher. There are actually several butterfly groves on the Central Coast, but the one in Pismo is the largest.” He glanced at Raine, and his wide, open smile did strange things to her heart. “You almost missed it. They’re here from October through February.”

  “But it’s March now.”

  “Right, but I’m fairly certain there will still be enough of them hanging around to be impressive. I wish you’d been here a month ago, but…well, maybe next year.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” She hesitated, her mind darting off in a dozen different directions. This visit to see a bunch of butterflies, coming on the heels of her experience in the “holy of holies,” seemed too coincidental.

  What was God up to?

  A forgotten piece of knowledge popped into her mind, and she frowned. “I thought butterflies only lived about six weeks.”
<
br />   Dec nodded and gave her an approving, slant-eyed look. “Good for you. That’s right. The species that comes to Pismo every year is a special variety of monarch with a lifespan of around six months. Even at that, the ones who winter here will obviously never return.”

  Curiosity made her tilt her head and narrow her gaze. “Why the Central Coast?”

  He reached across the seat to slide his fingers beneath her hair and rest them against her neck. “Can you think of a better place to cozy up for the cold months?”

  His husky whisper, coupled with the touch of his fingers against her skin, sent delicious ripples of something warm and exciting throughout her entire body. She moistened lips gone suddenly dry. Not wanting him to pick up on her reaction, she forced a lighthearted response. “Behave, woodcarver!” She landed a playful punch to his arm.

  “Ouch!” He grabbed her hand and kept it in his. “OK, but I’m afraid I still can’t give you an answer. That’s a mystery as yet unsolved.”

  “Seriously? You’re saying no one knows why they come here?”

  “That’s right…but I’m glad they do. It’s a sight worth seeing.”

  The ride ate up the biggest part of an hour, and Raine was pleased to find that they never ran out of topics for conversation.

  Still, when Dec parked in a quiet lot just south of Pismo Beach, Raine wondered why he’d been so excited. The two of them seemed to be the only visitors, and they certainly weren’t dodging butterflies.

  “So where are they?”

  He laughed and held out his hand.

  Raine took it.

  They walked down a path leading into a large grove of eucalyptus trees.

  “I so wish I could’ve brought you here a month ago.”

  Raine squeezed his hand. “I’m sure it’ll still be a wonderful experience. Amazing, even.”

  “Everything in God’s creation is amazing, any time of year, don’t you think?”

  She hesitated. She felt closer to God here than she’d ever felt in her life, but talking about Him in everyday life still seemed odd to her. Odd…but good. She bit at her lip, and then managed a quiet agreement. “Yes. I do.”