The Darcy & Flora Boxed Set

by Blanche Day Manos

  The tranquility of the night with its elusive scent of water, earth, and small autumn wildflowers began to calm my scattered thoughts. The creek murmured, sleepy insects whirred or clicked nighttime melodies, and a whole family of frogs croaked. These were the familiar sounds of nature before the onset of winter. The silvery moonlight-bathed woods were a balm to the craziness of human tragedies.

  Spirit Leap is what the Cherokee people called the sheer granite cliff upon which I sat. A geology professor from the University of Oklahoma once told me that the jumble of jagged rocks along the creek had been spewed from far beneath the earth’s surface at some time in the dim geological past. Much more romantic was the old legend that a spurned lover leaped to his death from here many years ago and the earth erupted in protest.

  Spring Creek hurried southward, hugging the rocky hillside before disappearing among the trees. Somewhere among those trees, two whippoorwills called, no doubt discussing the departure date for their annual trip to warmer climes. An owl hooted softly and a chorus of crickets announced that autumn was on the way out. Strange disappearances, love, hate, and envy had no part of this quiet autumn night.

  An alien noise intruded on the soothing sounds of nature. My scalp prickling, I was at once aware of how alone and remote was my moonlit perch. The sound of dry leaves crunching underfoot jarred me out of my reverie. I patted the pocket of my jeans and felt the comforting bulge of my cell phone.

  My boulder chair was at least three feet off the ground and I perched on it like a bird or maybe a sitting duck. Trees and creeks stood out in stark relief under that relentless moon. Without a doubt, I was clearly visible to anyone watching from the cover of those shadowy trees.

  Noiselessly, I slipped off the rock and crouched down behind it. I tried to calm my breathing. Surely anyone could hear the hammering of my heart.

  An unseen walker moved among those dusky trees behind me. Was it a deer? Possibly a bear? I remembered tales of panthers which were said to live in the area. Or was the source of the sound a person? Grant had warned me that there could be someone in Levi who didn’t want me to stir things up concerning Andrea Worth. The night seemed to hold its breath. Not a breeze stirred, but somehow a chill feeling of evil settled over Spirit Leap. What should I do? Should I hide here and wait for whoever or whatever else was out in the night to move on? Should I flip open my cell phone and call 911? Or should I make a run for the house?

  Another noise . . . this time an unmistakable footfall and it was closer than the first. I was afraid to raise my head above the rock and look into the woods, afraid of what I might see.

  My paralysis suddenly released me and my instinct for self-preservation took over. I sprang up and ran toward my mother’s house and safety. Spirit Leap was about a quarter of a mile from Mom’s back yard, through an old, grassy pasture that was bordered on two sides by thick trees. I dared not look behind me. My legs burned and I felt as if my heart would burst through my ribs, but I raced like wildfire through the knee-high grass. Something panted behind me, coming closer and closer; or was it my own breathing? I didn’t know. Dashing through the backyard gate, I hit the back porch, and hurtled through the kitchen door. I locked it and leaned against it, gasping.

  My mother sat at the table, plans for Ben’s Boys school spread out around her. She jumped up and grasped my arm. “Darcy! What in the world—”

  “Somebody—I think was after me,” I choked.

  “Somebody . . . . Oh, Darcy, I told you I didn’t think going out to Spirit Leap was wise. It is so spooky out there. I’m going to call Grant.”

  I stumbled toward the living room. “Dad’s gun. I’m going to get his gun.” I yanked open the drawer on the bookshelf and pulled out the black pistol. It felt cold and heavy but reassuring.

  Mom’s voice came from the dining room as she talked to someone on the phone, presumably Grant. Then she hurried to the front room where I leaned against the bookcase, shaking.

  She led me to the sofa. I collapsed on its soft cushions.

  “Now tell me what happened,” she ordered.

  Gasping, I put up a warning hand. “Shhh. Listen. Did you hear something?”

  “No, just Jethro crunching his food. Grant will soon be here, Darcy. You are safe now.”

  Chapter 12

  My mother poured coffee for all four of us sitting around her kitchen table. Unaccountably, I felt cold. I pulled Mom’s old green crocheted afghan over my shoulders, shivering and trying to warm my fingers on the mug.

  Grant rubbed his hand over his stubbly beard and leaned toward me across the table. “Darcy, Jim and I have looked all over Spirit Leap and the woods around it and we saw no sign that anybody was there. Are you sure somebody was watching you?”

  Jim Clendon, Grant’s deputy, drained the last of his coffee and thumped his mug down on the table. “Course, there’s not much we can see in the dark, even with that full moon.”

  “We’ll come back tomorrow and take a good look,” Grant said.

  Clendon frowned. “Look, Grant, what d’you think we’re going to find? There’s leaves and grass out there. I don’t imagine anybody is going to leave a callin’ card; do you? And Darcy might have just imagined she heard something. She was out there all by herself; not a smart move, in my book, and her nerves were probably overwrought. Women get that way; overwrought nerves.”

  I had learned that the chief attribute of Grant’s deputy was bluntness; that and a short temper. I had also learned that he did nothing to further my sweet disposition.

  “Now, look,” I began.

  Grant sighed. “It’s all right, Darcy. Jim, we’ll go back to Spirit Leap after sunup. That’s our job. Did you catch a glimpse of anybody, Darcy? Did you see anything at all?”

  I shook my head. “No. I just heard a noise . . . two noises. I know somebody or something was watching me.”

  “Another piece of information for you, Darcy. After you told me about that Rusty Lang, the fellow who threatened you . . . . ”

  Mom gasped. “Threatened you? Why did he threaten you, Darcy? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The adrenalin was draining from my body. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was climb the stairs to my bedroom and go to sleep. “It was a long time ago, Mom, while I was working in Dallas. A picture I snapped of him outside a drugstore sent Rusty Lang to jail for robbery.”

  She rubbed the deepening wrinkle between her eyebrows. “I didn’t know that being a newspaper reporter was so dangerous.”

  “What about Rusty Lang, Grant?” I asked.

  “I checked with Dallas,” Grant said. “Lang served his time and is out on good behavior. And, Darcy, this is what’s really important—he was sighted here in Levi.”

  The swallow of coffee lodged in my throat. “Here? Why is he here?”

  “That’s what we asked him when we cornered him in Dilly’s Café. He said he’s here visiting his cousin,” Grant said.

  Jim snorted. “Huh! Cousin, my eye. He’s no more visitin’ his cousin than . . . . ”

  I was getting sleepy in spite of the coffee. The feeling of relief at being safe and the warm afghan caught up with me. My eyes felt like lead.

  “That’s okay, Grant. I needed to know. Now, if you two gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve got to go to bed. Jim, maybe I am overwrought, as you say. But I know what I heard and I know that whatever it was, it wasn’t friendly.”

  Chapter 13

  Why do you run away from problems, Darcy? Nobody spoke these words aloud but I heard them in my mind as clearly as if Granny Grace were sitting beside me in my red Ford Escape. Granny died when I was only ten years old but during those ten years she was my best friend and confidante. And, although I didn’t want to think I lacked courage, she was right. When Jake died, I ran home to Mom. After the trip to Amarillo, I went to my “thinking spot” at Spirit Leap. And now, after last night’s scare, I was running again, this time to Granny’s land along the Ventris River where she once lived. Maybe it was the old “fight or
flight” dilemma, and since I didn’t know who or what to fight, I chose the other option.

  But today I wanted to hear the sound of the wind in those giant trees, to smell the freshness of the river, and to feel the peace of nature’s beauty. I needed to think about Andrea and her mother and Gary and Tom and Charlene. And then there was Grant—I should face my feelings for him and his for me, but I was actually afraid to look at them squarely.

  All these thoughts and emotions churning and swirling through my mind needed to be sorted out. In the quietness and stark beauty of my grandmother’s home, maybe her serene spirit would calm me. The land she had loved seemed the best place to go when my own spirit needed to feel her presence.

  A few dark clouds were gathering in the west and brown leaves on the trees crowding the road shivered in a brisk breeze. Indian summer never lasted long and a cold front probably lurked just beyond the horizon.

  Something slithered across the road in front of me. I rolled down the window to get a better look.

  A rattlesnake! Of course, I knew these hills sheltered many animals, but it wasn’t often that these reptiles came out of hiding. This one, though, seemed to have some place to go in a hurry.

  Mom offered to come with me this morning. She had, in fact, insisted. It was a good thing she hadn’t come. Seeing the rattlesnake would have made her want to turn around and go back home, even though we were safely ensconced in my car.

  “I’ve just got a bad feeling, Darcy,” she told me this morning. I understood, because an elusive apprehension clouded my own mind, but I laughed at her premonition and finally convinced her I needed some time alone after last night’s trauma. So, after promising I would check in with Pat Harris at Ben’s farm and soon-to-be-school which was on the way to Granny’s land, she said no more.

  I was as curious as my mother to see what progress had been made on the Ben Ventris farm and school. Hiram Schuster, a longtime friend of my parents, oversaw the work going on. Pat Harris would be the cook and she had definite ideas about what renovations the kitchen would need. Hopefully, her plans and my mother’s would coincide.

  But more important to me was simply clearing my mind of fear and bewilderment. I could almost convince myself that the sounds I heard last night were simply my overactive imagination. Deep inside, though, I knew the noises were menacing. Somebody had watched me from the obscurity of the woods. And I thought someone had followed me back to my mother’s house. If I hadn’t been such a coward, I would have turned around to see who was behind me, but I didn’t. I had focused on getting to safety as quickly as I could. Perhaps the breathing I heard had been my own. Maybe the watcher had stayed in the woods.

  My childhood memories of times at my grandmother’s home were of peace and safety. Each time I returned to the land, I seemed to feel the joy and serenity of my Granny Grace. Going back now, even though Granny and her house were gone, still gave me the same secure feeling I had as a child. Today I needed to be there.

  The dirt road narrowed at the bottom of a hill. The tires of my Escape crunched on the gravelly bottom of a small stream that flowed across the road. Water splashed against the car’s underside as it crept through the shallow creek.

  A low roar started somewhere back in the woods. I jumped and gripped the steering wheel. What was happening? A tree crashed across the road in front of me, some of the limbs brushing my car’s hood. At the same time, it felt as if a giant hand shook the Escape. I lurched forward, banging my forehead on the steering wheel. Something weird was moving, something violent. I turned off the ignition and grasped the door handle. Should I get out of the car? Should I not? The ground under me shuddered and the rutted road heaved up and down as if a giant snake slithered beneath the surface.

  The rumble stopped as suddenly as it began. No wind stirred the leaves now. Nature seemed to hold her breath. What had happened? Slowly, the truth dawned on me. An earthquake! Incredible, but true. I had never experienced one, but there was no other explanation. Somewhere in the depths of the earth, an unstoppable force moved and nature bent before it.

  My car door did not want to open and my arms seemed to have turned to water. After three tries, I was able to creep out of the SUV. I clung to it for support. Drawing a ragged breath, I pressed my palms together to stop their shaking. The tree blocked the road in front of me, but behind me the road looked clear. Backing up was my only option until I could find a spot wide enough to turn around.

  Then a terrifying thought hit: earthquakes don’t happen in isolation. Levi itself was bound to have been shaken. And Mom—what of her? Was she and her house safe? I started to climb back into my car.

  “Miss Darcy! Wait! Don’t go!”

  The sumac bushes parted and a large young man rushed toward me.

  I rubbed my eyes. “Jasper? Jasper Harris, what in the world are you doing out in these woods?”

  “Never mind that,” he said.” We’ve got to get to that school of Ben’s. My mother is there. We just had an earthquake—did you know that? I didn’t know we had earthquakes around here. Maybe Mom was hurt. Come on. We’ve got to hurry. Now, Miss Darcy. You’re wastin’ time.” He trotted to the passenger side of the car and opened the door.

  I slid back behind the steering wheel. “In case you didn’t notice, Jasper, that tree is bigger than we are. I don’t think I can plow through it.”

  “Never mind,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. “Back up. There’s an old wagon road down there a piece. I know a shortcut to the school.”

  Putting the SUV into reverse, I inched back the way I had come.

  Jasper pointed to a wide spot between two trees. “There it is! Turn right there.”

  Visions of scrape marks along my new car passed before my eyes. I was particularly careful with it since my old one took a tumble down Deertrack Hill last spring. So far, the shiny paint of this car bore no scratches. I wanted to keep it that way.

  I shook my head. “Jasper, that trail is fine and dandy for skinny wagons and horses. If you’ll notice, this Ford is a bit wider and I have no intention of putting creases in it.”

  He grabbed the door handle. “Well then, scoot over and let me drive.”

  Was he serious? I snorted. “That’ll be the day.”

  We crept along the old ruts, limbs brushing metal. “Please Lord,” I prayed. “Just get us safely through.”

  Jasper frowned at me. “Hurry up, Miss Darcy. Go faster. I could run this fast.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Be my guest.”

  Jasper pointed out the side window. “That there’s a shortcut to the Worth ranch.”

  Leaves had nearly covered the faint marks of a trail. “How do you know that, Jasper?”

  He pointed to his head. “I know lots of things that nobody else knows. It’s best to keep some things a secret. Safer.”

  “What things? Why do you say that? Do you know something about the Worth family?”

  Who was it suggested I talk to Jasper? Somebody at Dilly’s?

  He shook his head. “Hurry, Miss Darcy. The school is just up ahead.”

  The roof of Ben Ventris’s old barn appeared through the trees. I turned in the direction Jasper pointed and was in the Ventris pasture with the house a short distance ahead of us. The buildings all looked intact to me, and when Pat came out on the porch to hug her son, she confirmed that there had been no damage. “Just some paint cans knocked off shelves and a scared cook—me! Darcy, you go on home and make sure Flora is all right. Jasper, you ride home with me. I hope my house doesn’t have cracks in the foundation. Earthquakes in Oklahoma! Heavens! What will happen next?”

  That was a question I didn’t ask any more because it seemed that another disaster lurked around every corner, waiting to pounce.

  Taking Jasper’s shortcut might be quicker than the roundabout way of the county road. At least I knew there were no trees across the old wagon rut. I couldn’t relax until I knew my mother was unharmed. Since everything at the Ventris farm was safe, hopefu
lly the buildings and people in Levi were all right, too.

  Whispering a prayer for Mom’s safety, I headed back through the woods the way Jasper and I had come.

  The clouds had gathered forces and a light rain fell as my car eased through the shadowy woods. The headlights beamed a tunnel through the crowding trees. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed something; a long, tawny brown something which glided directly into my path then stopped and turned its head toward me. The lights of the Escape glinted on yellow eyes.

  My heart turned over and my breath caught in my throat. I was looking at the biggest cat I had ever seen. A snatch of remembered conversation with Amy came to my mind: “animal legends . . . panthers in the thickest part of the woods.”

  In front of me stood one of those legends. My hands shook as I checked my doors to be sure they were locked. For a few seconds the cat stared at the car, then with the infinite grace of the wild, he sprang into a thicket and vanished. An unearthly scream rose and fell from a hidden spot among the trees. My scalp prickled and the hairs rose on my arms. Many years ago my dad told me that the cry of a panther sounded like the blood-curdling shriek of a woman. He was right.

  My breath coming in short gasps, I gripped the steering wheel with sweaty palms. I always drove carefully, taking care not to stress the engine, but at that moment, all I wanted to do was leave these gloomy woods behind me. I gunned the motor and bounced over that trail probably faster than anybody had ever traveled it. Upon reaching the road, I broke all speed limits getting back to the safety of civilization.