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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. I thought he might be staying with you.”
“I don’t remember seeing him.”
“Do you have a key to the house?”
“A key? I’m sure I do.”
“Do you know where it is?” Raven’s teeth chattered on the words, the chilly night air seeping through her nightgown. She should have worn a jacket. Would have if she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get Abby home.
“I think I do, but I can’t remember.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure we can find a way into the house.”
“Good. I’m very tired.”
“Let’s go around back and see if there’s an open door.”
“I’ll stay here. You go.”
Not a bad suggestion, but Raven didn’t dare leave Abby alone. “I know you’re tired, Abby, but we have to do this together.”
“Why? Because I need a babysitter?” A sharp edge was there, almost hiding the fear.
“No, because I don’t know the house or the grounds. We can do a much quicker job together.”
“I’m too tired. You go.”
Raven bit back a sigh and rubbed her hand against the back of her neck. She’d faced this kind of situation before. That didn’t make it any easier. She’d ring the doorbell one more time. If that didn’t work she’d have no choice but to bring Abby back to the cottage.
As she took a step toward the house she saw a dark figure stroll around the corner.
“What’s going on? Who’s out here?”
Shane. Finally. “Raven Stevenson. I’m with your aunt.”
“What? Why…? Never mind.” He came toward them, his movements easy and fluid. “Aunt Abby, you’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I went for a walk. This kind young lady brought me home.”
“Let’s get you inside.”
Shane leaned past Raven, his shoulder brushing against her arm as he lifted his aunt from the car. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t need to be carried, young man. I’m not an invalid.”
“You’re a damsel in distress. Let me play gallant knight.”
“You always were silver-tongued.”
Shane laughed, the sound vibrating through the predawn air. “True.” He glanced at Raven as he stepped toward the house. “You coming in?”
She wanted to say no. Wanted to go back to her warm house and her comfortable bed and pretend she didn’t care about Abby Montgomery. She couldn’t do it. There were things that needed saying. Things that couldn’t wait.
“Yes.”
Shane didn’t go in the front door as Raven had expected, but went back around the side of the house, carrying Abby as if she were featherlight. Raven followed him across the backyard toward a large outbuilding, feeling uncomfortable in a way she hadn’t with other patients, in other homes. But then, Abby wasn’t a patient.
“My office is above the garage. I do most of my work there. Looks like that might have to change.” There was pain, regret and a tinge of frustration in his voice.
Raven had heard them all before, had watched others experience the same during the past three years. But she couldn’t allow her empathy to stop her from saying what needed to be said. Abby needed proper care. Without it she’d continue to wander off, and eventually she might not return.
An outside staircase led to the upper level of the garage. Raven followed Shane up and into a large room, her gaze caught and held by myriad prints lining one wall. Colorful, bold, striking. All scenes from some fantasy adventure.
“Scenes from my books.”
“What?” Raven turned to Shane.
He’d settled Abby on a long couch and covered her with a blanket, his hand lingering for just a moment on her cheek. “The prints. They’re scenes from the books I write.”
“You’re an author?”
“I write inspirational fantasy adventures for kids.” He stepped to the back of the room and gestured Raven over. “Abby’s asleep. Let’s go in the kitchen.”
“I’d rather not leave her alone.”
“And I’d rather not have her wake and hear us talking about her. Life is hard enough for her right now.” Shane stepped through the doorway before Raven could argue further.
She hesitated, then followed.
The tiny kitchen sported a sink, a microwave and a small refrigerator. There wasn’t room for much more, and barely space for two people to move comfortably. Raven didn’t move. Just stood in the doorway, eyeing the man whose presence seemed to fill the kitchen. Jonas had been like that—so vital that everything around him paled in comparison.
“She wasn’t alone, you know.”
Raven blinked, tried to focus on Shane’s words. “Alone?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting to accuse me of? Leaving my aunt alone. Letting her wander around by herself when she needs to be supervised every moment of the day.” His words weren’t angry, just tired.
Raven could understand that. In the last days of Jonas’s illness she’d been tired, too. But not for the same reasons. “I don’t want to accuse you of anything. I just want to make sure you understand what you’re dealing with.”
“Believe me, I know. Abby’s been suffering from dementia for two years, and I’ve been her primary caregiver for the past three months.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for one person, Shane.”
“I’m not doing it alone. I’ve hired people to come in and help out when I can’t be here.”
“That’s good, but not just any caregiver will do. You need trained professionals.”
Shane leaned against the counter. “Obviously you’re right. She’s wandered twice today.”
“Does she have other family? Other people who could pull shifts?”
“Abby’s son, Mark—but he’d rather have her in an assisted living facility than spend time caring for her. A few months ago he was ready to sell the house and move Abby.”
“And you said no?”
