Die Before Nightfall. Shirlee McCoy
Not easier, but perhaps more filled with love. She didn’t envy Ben, she only wished she’d made better choices in her own life, and that she were as content and at peace as her brother.
Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, the sound breaking into Raven’s thoughts and jarring her mind away from regrets and disappointments. A good thing. Life was too short to waste time worrying about things that couldn’t be changed.
It was only later, as she lay wrapped in spring-scented sheets, that the questions she’d shoved to the back of her mind surfaced again. Was Ben really happy to have her in Lakeview? Or was she a bump in the smooth road of his life? His reaction had been open and loving, but still Raven couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d intruded on his well-ordered and contented existence. Perhaps leaving Lakeview before Ben returned from his family reunion was the best thing she could do for both of them.
She took a deep, calming breath. She’d spent so much time praying about this, so much time wondering if finding her brother was the right thing to do, she wouldn’t second-guess her decision, wouldn’t torture herself with the possibilities. Only God knew what the next few months would bring. All Raven could do was wait and see.
With a frustrated sigh, she pushed the sheets off and went into the living room. Her Bible lay on the coffee table and she picked it up, opening to the Psalms and losing herself in words of comfort, in promises of hope, until finally, her eyes closed and she drifted to sleep.
She was there again. In the room at the top of the stairs. Already decorating. Jonas said she was silly and frivolous. That twenty-three weeks was too soon to plan for the new life that grew inside her. She didn’t care. She was so happy. Finally, a baby! She’d begged, pleaded for so long to have this chance.
Something creaked outside the door. A loose floorboard that Raven knew meant he was awake. Her heart beat heavily. Would he be angry that she’d left the bed and come here to finger tiny baby booties? The door crashed open and a baby’s cry filled the air.
Raven started awake, biting off a scream before it took wing. Sweat beaded her brow and layered her skin, seeping into the cotton of her nightgown and making it cling uncomfortably. She needed to get up, to move. To run from the memories that haunted her dreams. The high-pitched wail of an infant followed her as she fled across the room and opened the bathroom door. She’d take a shower. Cool her skin, ease her tension and block out the sobs that echoed through the night.
She paused with her hand on the faucet. Sobs. Not wails. Loud, bitter, hopeless. Definitely not a baby, but someone…Not a dream, but reality.
Heart in her throat, Raven stepped out of the bathroom and strained to hear the sound again. There it was, faint but still audible. She hurried to the front door, hesitating with her hand on the knob. Was this a trick? Some bizarre scheme to get her to come outside? She grabbed the long-handled umbrella from the coat closet, swung it over her shoulder and pushed the door open.
The sobs were coming from the side of the house. Raven followed the sound, moving cautiously in the darkness. Bright stars speckled the moonless sky, pinpricks of light against the blackness. Someone crouched at the far edge of the house, a dark shadow beside the pale siding.
“Hello? Are you okay?”
No response came. Just the same long, bitter sobs.
“Are you hurt? Lost?”
The person straightened and lurched into Raven with enough force to knock her backward and onto the ground. The umbrella flew from her hand and she twisted, scrambling to find it, her heart thudding painfully, a scream catching in her throat.
“Thea. Thea.”
The name was familiar, the trembling voice one Raven recognized. “Abby?”
The soft cries continued.
“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” Raven spoke as she eased from Abby’s grasp, moving gently so as not to hurt her fragile neighbor.
“She’s dead. Dead. The blood. What have I done?”
Raven went cold at the words, her hands sliding along Abby’s arms, her face, then across the silky material of the blouse she wore. No blood. At least none Raven could feel or see in the dark. Relieved, she grabbed Abby’s hand and helped her to her feet. Then put an arm around her waist and led her toward the house. “Let’s go inside. Make sure you’re not hurt.”
“She’s dead. She’s dead.” The mantra continued as they walked into the living room, Abby’s quiet chant a chilling background to the too-fast beat of Raven’s heart.
“Who’s dead, Abby?”
But Abby was gone, her eyes unfocused, reality lost somewhere in the depths of the mind that was failing her. Raven checked her for injuries, found nothing but layers of dirt caked on her hands and streaked across her face. She’d worn shoes this time and they, too, were covered with grime.
“Where have you been, Abby? What have you been doing?” Raven asked the question as she brushed dirt from the woman’s cheek. She expected no answer.
“Making amends.” The words, whispered on a sigh, hung in the air.
Raven met Abby’s gaze. She was there again, in the moment, her dark eyes begging something from Raven.
“What do you need? How can I help you?”
But the moment was already gone, the shift as quick and unstoppable as a wave cresting over the shore. “Where am I? What’s happening?”
“You’re at the cottage.”
“I’m tired.”
“Then why don’t we get you back home. I’m sure Shane is wondering where you are.” At least Raven hoped he was. That Abby had wandered from home twice in less than twenty-four hours didn’t say much for the kind of care she was getting.
That bothered Raven. A lot.
She grabbed the phone and dialed the number she’d written down earlier. The phone rang several times before an answering machine picked up. Frustrated, Raven turned to Abby. “Do you live nearby, Abby?”
“Oh, yes. Just down the road a bit. I used to walk here all the time. Thea’s mother made the best cookies and never minded if Thea had friends over. She was a great mother. Very warm and sweet. It was so sad when she died.”
“Was she young?” Raven walked into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans.
“In her fifties, I think. Thea came home to care for her. It would have been better if she’d stayed away…” Abby’s voice faded to silence, and she didn’t speak again as Raven led her outside and into the car.
The long country road was unlit by streetlights. Raven drove carefully, searching for another driveway and finding it easily. “Is this it?”
“Yes. Born here. Grew up here. Raised a son here. And I’ll die here.”
“Not for a long time, I’m sure.”
“Life passes quickly. More quickly for some than for others.”
Raven glanced in Abby’s direction, but in the dark she could see little of the older woman’s expression.
A porch light glowed a welcome as Raven pulled up in front of a large house. “Ready?”
“I’m tired, dear. You go on inside.”
Raven didn’t bother arguing. If Abby felt as tired as she did, the prospect of walking up the porch steps would be daunting. “I’ll get Shane.”
There was no answer when she rang the doorbell, and she twisted the knob, hoping the door was unlocked. It wasn’t. She waited another minute and then went back to the car.
“Abby, do you know where Shane is?”
“Shane?” Abby turned at the name, her eyes wide and filled with pleasure. “Is he in town?”
“Yes.