“You will. You’re a wonderful storyteller.”
“You’ve read my books?”
“Yes. I’d heard so much about the stories from my Sunday school class, I had to see what they were all about.”
“I’m generally more popular with kids than adults.”
“I loved the story. I’m not surprised at your success. Have you always been a writer?” The question sounded trite and silly to Raven. Shane had probably been asked it a million times.
Still, he didn’t seem to mind answering it. “Not a writer in the truest sense of the word. I’d see a person or an interesting house, even an abandoned car, and be so consumed by the story I made up about it that I’d walk into walls, fall out of chairs, trip over nothing. Used to drive my father nuts.”
Raven smiled, imagining a young Shane wandering around with his head in the clouds. “And now that you write books, do you still make up stories about things you see?”
“When something interests me enough. Like you, for instance.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the direction the conversation was going. “What about me?”
“You’re interesting. There are a hundred stories floating through my mind every time I see you.”
It was a dare. Raven knew it and was helpless to back away from the challenge. “All right, I’ll bite. What kind of stories?”
“Let’s see. How about the one where you’re the young wife with the old ogre for a husband. He’s hateful and cruel. You’re sweet and good. Or the one where you’re the fair maiden running from danger, praying for a prince to ride to your rescue.”
She laughed to hide her discomfort. “A prince? There are no princes. Just frogs with superiority complexes.”
“Now see, that’s where you’re wrong. There are princes. They may be flawed, sometimes horribly so, but their hearts are pure and good, and they’ll fight for what’s right to their dying breath.”
“Like in your books.”
“Right.” Shane grinned, and Raven felt something inside her melt in response.
She didn’t like the feeling. Not at all. “I need to go. I’ve got a lot to do.”
She stood, took a step away.
“Running away, Raven?”
“Not running.” Raven turned back, catching her breath at the expression in Shane’s eyes. The curiosity. The blatant interest. “Going home.”
“What is it about me that makes you nervous?”
“I’m not nervous. I just don’t have time to spin tales.”
“Too bad. This is the perfect place to do it. Especially now, with the sun just setting and night spilling across the earth.” He gestured toward the western horizon, and Raven’s gaze followed the movement.
It was just as he’d described it: the sun so low it couldn’t be seen, pink and gold shooting toward the east, blue-gray darkness sliding toward the horizon.
Caught in the spell of the sunset, Raven didn’t realize Shane had moved until he was beside her, his hand clasping hers. His grip was light but insistent as he tugged her back toward the bench.
“Stay for a little longer. I promise I won’t talk about princes, frogs or you.”
She couldn’t resist, though she told herself she wanted to. “It is nice up here. Even with all the gravestones.”
“That’s what makes it great. All the people and history that have touched this place. Can’t you just imagine a Victorian lady standing on this hill, watching as a loved one was lowered into the ground?”
“I’d rather not.”
Shane laughed, the sound ringing out into the quiet evening. “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes. I really appreciate your coming up here with us. Abby’s comfortable with you. She’s not like that with everyone she meets.”
“Things are hard for her right now. Meeting new people just adds to the list of things she’s trying to deal with.”
“I know. Which is why I’ve hesitated to bring in full-time caregivers.”
“It will be hard at first, but eventually Abby will adjust.”
“She’ll adjust more quickly if she has someone she knows, someone she likes with her. Someone like you.”
“Me?”
“Why not?”
Raven couldn’t think of an answer, so she didn’t say anything at all.
“No pressure. I just wanted to throw the idea out.”
“Actually, I plan to get a job, but—”
“Then maybe this will work out for both of us. Take a few days, think about it. If you’re interested, give me a call.”
“I’m interested.” The words were out before Raven could think them through.
“Great. Why don’t you come by Monday and we’ll discuss the details?” He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners, a dimple creasing his cheek, his expression open and inviting.
Maybe accepting the job wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Abby stirred, mumbled something under her breath and straightened, her eyes flying open. “Oh, the cemetery.” She struggled up and Shane rose with her, helping her to her feet.
“I’ve found Daniel’s grave. Ready to go see it?”
“Of course. It’s been too long.”
Raven stood, as well. “It’s getting dark. I’d better head home.”
“You sure you don’t want to come with us? We can walk back to the house together, and Abby and I will give you a ride home.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. Come on, Merry.” She tugged the puppy’s leash and stepped toward the steep hill that led to the lake.
Shane placed a hand on her arm. “Not that way. Straight through to the far gate. See it?”
“Yes.”
“The field beyond that leads to the road. Once you get there, turn left. Our driveway is a ten-minute walk. Yours is another fifteen minutes after that. If it gets too dark for you, just stop at our place and I’ll give you a ride the rest of the way.”
“All right. See you Monday. Goodbye, Abby.”
Raven moved through the overgrown cemetery, tugging Merry along beside her. Already dusk had settled on the land and deep violet shadows crept across the ground. The effect was eerie, the rustle of leaves and hum of insects only adding to Raven’s unease. She paused with her hand on the gate, thinking she’d go back and wait for Shane and Abby, but when she turned they’d disappeared from view.
Perhaps it was better this way. Relying on others only led to disappointment, and she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. She pushed open the gate and strode across a wide field, Merry romping close to her feet, undisturbed by Raven’s nervousness.
She should take her cue from the dog, let go of the anxiety that strummed through her veins and enjoy the evening. But she couldn’t. The cemetery had reminded her too much of life and loss and sorrow. If she’d looked carefully at the gravestones, she would have read names and dates, a short accounting of a person’s life. Or a baby’s. Raven winced from the thought, not wanting to dwell on the image of mothers standing watch over freshly dug graves.
Her foot snagged on a twisted root and she stumbled, barely caught her balance. With every step the world grew darker, the shadows deeper. A twig snapped somewhere to the right and Merry growled, lunging toward the sound.
“Don’t worry. It’s just a squirrel.” Raven hoped. “Come on, girl, let’s hurry.” She tugged at the leash and led Merry across grass and weeds and finally onto pavement.
There were no cars on the old country lane. Raven moved toward the middle line, the odd feeling that she was being watched turning her pace to a brisk walk. She passed the Montgomery’s driveway, rounded a curve in the road, and spotted the Freedman mailbox.
Home. Finally.
She paused to lift Merry, anxious to hurry the little dog along, and saw a shadow move in the trees beside the road.
“Hello?”
No one answered, and nothing moved in the darkness, yet Raven was sure someone was there. She took a step back, gaze fixed on the edge of the road, and fel
t the soft rumble of Merry’s growl against her chest. She didn’t wait for more. Gasping, heart hammering, Raven raced toward the cottage.
Chapter Seven
Raven imagined the sound of feet on gravel behind her, the rasp of someone’s breath, a pursuer pressing close to her back. One glance told her no one was there, yet even that didn’t ease her fear. She reached the porch at an all-out run and shoved the key into the lock. The door swung open and she stumbled inside, slamming it closed.
It took a moment for her to calm and for her heart to settle back in her chest. When it did, Raven strode to the front window and pulled open the shades, peering out into the darkness. Nothing was there. No one lurked in the yard. She let out a shaky breath and set Merry down on the floor.
“You need to stop growling at shadows, mutt. You almost gave me a heart attack over nothing.”
But she pulled the shade down anyway, checking the windows and doors as she moved from room to room. When the phone rang, she jumped, then shook her head at her own skittishness.
“Hello?”
“Raven? It’s Shane.” Deep and rough, the voice was one Raven would have recognized even if he hadn’t given his name.
“Hi, Shane. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just checking in, making sure you made it home okay.”
Checking on her? It had been years since anyone had cared enough to do that. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? You sound a little shaky.”
“Just jumping at shadows.”
“Shadows?”
“Merry likes to growl at them, and I fall for it every time.”
“A guard dog in the making.”
“If she doesn’t scare us both to death first.”
“You want me to come over? Make sure it’s just shadows she’s growling at?”
Yes. “No, it would be a waste of your time. Thanks for offering, though.”
“No problem. You’ve got my number if you change your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Good night, then.”
Raven hung up the phone, warmed by his concern, and worried by it. Men were trouble. Especially men like Shane—larger than life, handsome and charming. She’d do well to remember that and keep her distance. Which would be hard if she accepted the job he’d offered her.
But could she refuse it?
Abby needed her, and, truth be told, Raven needed to work. Keeping busy kept her sane, and with Ben out of town, there was little for Raven to do with her time. She sighed and shook her head. She’d pray about it, see if that gave her a clearer picture of what she should do. For now, she’d occupy herself with other things.
“Come on, Merry, let’s go upstairs.”
The room at the top of the stairs had once been a bedroom. Now it contained mismatched furniture that Nora had given Raven permission to use. Old bed frames, an end table and a chest crowded one wall. More furniture cluttered the center of the room. She’d move things around, set up a study—anything to keep herself busy. It was that or sit and think.
And there was a lot to think about. Ben and the foster family he loved. Abby and her fading mind. Thea Trebain, missing for years. Daniel, dead by his own hand. Shane.
And Raven’s own sad and disappointing past.
She shoved the last thought aside, throwing herself into the job of cleaning the room, working with purpose until she’d cleared a large area. Satisfied with her effort, she turned to a large mirror that stood against one wall. It would be perfect in the living room.
“Get up, mutt. I’m going to move that mirror and you’re in the way.” Merry didn’t move except to roll on her back, her skinny tail wagging.
“I suppose that means something, but since I don’t know what, you’re going to have to move.” Raven leaned down and lifted the puppy, then set her back down a few feet away. “Now stay there. This thing is heavy.”
She grunted as she lifted it, stumbling forward under its weight, and felt something give under her foot. Her knee buckled and she went down hard, the mirror still clutched in her hand.
She eased the mirror down and pushed to her feet. A broken board speared up from the floor. She’d have to replace it. Or maybe not. A little wood glue might do the trick. Raven bent forward to take a closer look and was surprised to see a hole beneath the board. Boxed in by wood beams, the space was filled with dust and other things Raven refused to name. And lying amid it all was an old cookie tin.
She lifted it out, grimacing as dead bugs fell off the lid and onto her hands. The weight of the box told her it wasn’t empty, though she wasn’t expecting what she soon found inside: pearl earrings, a slim gold bracelet, an interesting silver pendant and a small leather diary. Beneath them lay dried flower petals, aged to a delicate hue. Raven ran a finger along one, felt the dryness of it and wondered who they’d been given to.
Perhaps the journal would give her a name. She opened the cover and saw the small, well-formed script: To Thea. A good and true friend. May this year bring you more happiness than the last and may all your wishes and dreams come true. Happy birthday! With much love, Abby.
Thea’s journal. The urge to read through it was almost overwhelming, but the book and its story belonged to the Trebains. She’d give it to Nora on Sunday. For now, she put the journal back on its bed of petals, replaced the jewelry and closed the box.
Merry yipped and pranced toward the stairs, begging Raven’s attention.
“You want to go outside?”
The puppy wagged her ratty tail and scrambled down the steps, Raven right behind her.
Beyond the soft glow of the kitchen light, night lay heavy and black. Raven stared out into the darkness, unease curling in her belly as she pulled the door open and let Merry out. Maybe the stillness and silence of rural life was wearing on her. How else to explain the vulnerability she felt as she stood silhouetted in the doorway?
“Come on, Merry. Hurry up.”
The puppy raced back into the house and Raven slammed the door, shutting out the night and whatever secrets it held.
Sunday-morning sun burst through the slats in the blinds, burning away the nightmares that had haunted Raven’s sleep for the past two nights. She rose and showered, then dressed quickly, glad to be going to church. Happy to have something to do. Memories dogged her waking hours, nightmares haunted her sleep, and it showed in the pale cast of her skin and the deep circles under her eyes.
She yanked uncooperative hair into a barrette and applied light makeup. No earrings or necklace, nothing to draw attention to herself, though she did take a thin silver anklet from her jewelry box and clasp it around her ankle. Then she examined herself critically. The suit was lilac colored, but conservative, the skirt skimming the top of her knees. The jacket was trim but not tight. She looked like the doctor’s wife she’d once been—classically elegant, everything understated but chic.
She hated it.
Hopefully it would be just the right thing for a pastor’s sister to wear. Raven sighed, grabbed the cookie tin from the table and opened the door, nudging Merry away when the dog tried to bound outside.
“Sorry, pup. You’ve been out already. Be good and when I get home I’ll take you for a long walk.”
She shut the door firmly, trying to ignore the loud wails that followed her departure.
She’d never been one for crowded places and Grace Christian was that and more, the hallway filled with people talking and chatting before the service, the sanctuary just as full. She smiled at people as she made her way along the aisle, hoping they couldn’t see how uncomfortable she really was.
“Raven! I was hoping you’d show up.” Nora Freedman shoved her way through the throng.
“Nora. Good morning.”
“It is, isn’t it? Though I’d say it would be a mite better if Ben were here to preach, what with this being your first week at church.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Of course you don’t. Come on. You can sit with me and the othe
r ladies. Widows and old maids, all of us.”
She led Raven to the front of the church, gesturing to a pew where several women sat. Three men were squeezed in among them. One was Sam Riley. He looked up and winked as Raven slid into the pew. Nora shook her head and whispered loud enough for the entire church to hear.
“That man should be shot for convincing you to take a scrappy little mongrel. I heard all about it from Lulu. She works at the veterinary clinic.”
“You did say I could have pets?”
“Of course. I just didn’t think that fiend would get you to take one of his. Go on now, scoot in there next to Reena.”
Raven did as she was told. It was so much easier to float with the tide than to struggle against it. By the time the organ music began she was neatly sandwiched between Reena Bradley, a plain-faced, rather dour woman, and Nora. It might have been comfortable if the former hadn’t doused herself in perfume. Raven’s nose itched, her eyes watered and she was sure she’d start sneezing at any moment.
“Are you all right?” Nora spoke quietly this time, perhaps mistaking Raven’s watering eyes for tear-filled ones.
“Perfume has this effect on me.” she whispered, not wanting to offend Reena.
“Oh, you poor thing. Do you want to move? I’d be happy to go with you.”
Raven shook her head, sneezed, and fumbled in her bag for a tissue. Someone behind her dangled one over her shoulder, and Raven grabbed it.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Raven knew the voice. Was surprised she hadn’t noticed when he walked in. She turned to meet Shane’s gaze.
“Good morning, Shane. Abby.”
Shane smiled, but Abby stared straight ahead, as if unaware of the greeting.
“Is Abby doing okay this morning?”
“It hasn’t been a good one, if that’s what you’re asking.” He sounded tired and his eyes flashed with frustration.
“Anything I can do?”
“We’re okay for now. I don’t think you’ve met Abby’s son, Mark, or his wife, Laura.” He gestured to the couple sitting on Abby’s other side. “Mark, Laura. This is Raven Stevenson—the nurse I was telling you about.”
Die Before Nightfall Page 7
