Buch lesen: «Die Before Nightfall»
“Running away, Raven?”
“Not running.” Raven turned away. “Going home.”
“What is it about me that makes you nervous?” Shane asked. Caught in the spell of sunset, Raven didn’t realize Shane had moved until he was beside her, his hand clasping hers gently. “Stay for a little longer. I promise I won’t talk about princes, frogs, or you.”
“No, it’s getting dark. I’d better head home.” Raven pulled her hand from his and moved through the overgrown cemetery, leading Merry along beside her. Already dusk was beginning to settle on the land, deep violet shadows creeping across the ground. The effect was eerie, the rustle of leaves and hum of insects only adding to Raven’s unease.
Her foot caught on a root and she stumbled, barely catching her balance. A twig snapped somewhere to the right and Merry growled low in her throat, lunging toward the sound.
“Hello?”
No one answered, nothing moved in the darkness, yet Raven was sure someone was there. She didn’t wait for more. Breath gasping, heart hammering, she raced toward the cottage.
SHIRLEE MCCOY
has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of four, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in Maryland and share their house with a dog and a guinea pig.
SHIRLEE MCCOY
Die Before Nightfall
Published by Steeple Hill Books™
ISBN: 9781408967447
Die Before Nightfall
© Shirlee McCoy 2005
First Published in Great Britain in 2005
Harlequin (UK) Limited
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.á.r.l.
® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
MILLS & BOON
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For God will bring every work into judgment,
including every secret thing, whether good or evil.
—Ecclesiastes 12:14
Jude, Caleb, Seth and Emma Grace, if God lined up all the children in the world and let me choose any four, I would choose the four of you. And if you had dirty faces, messy clothes and were whining and crying, I would still choose you. I love you. All the way to the sun and back. Always. No matter what.
A special thank-you to Sara Parker, who read my first, second, third and fourth drafts without flinching, and who offered countless suggestions and advice. And to my editor, Krista Stroever, who walked me through the publication process with grace, humor and an unerring eye for detail. Thanks! This book is much better because of you.
In loving memory of Tony Trainer.
Sixty years wasn’t nearly long enough.
Dear Reader,
Life is filled with ups, downs, twists and turns. That’s not a bad thing when you like roller coasters. But if you’re like me and enjoy the more placid rides, sudden changes in direction can be disconcerting. A lost job, a lost love, illness or death in the family—when we experience those things, it can be hard to remember that God knows every bump and turn our lives will take and that He’s with us through them all, steering us forward, urging us on, quietly whispering to our souls that everything will be all right.
Raven Stevenson’s life is a roller-coaster ride, and she’s ready for it to stop. That means taking a break from her job as a home health-care nurse and moving to Lakeview, Virginia, to reconnect with a brother she hasn’t seen in twenty years. She hopes she’ll have time to think and to reassess the direction her life has taken. Instead she gets pulled into the lives of Abby and Shane Montgomery—an elderly women suffering from dementia and the nephew who is determined to care for her. Together the three of them must confront the past and uncover a secret that just might destroy them all. Only in doing so can they learn the true meaning of God’s grace and love for them.
I hope you enjoy taking part in their adventure. If you have the time, drop me a line. I can be reached by mail at 1121 Annapolis Road, PMB 244, Odenton, Maryland, 21113-1633. Or by e-mail at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.
May God richly bless your life.
Contents
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
COMING NEXT MONTH
Chapter One
She’d never hung wash out to dry, but that wouldn’t keep her from trying. Raven Stevenson eyed the basket of sopping white sheets and the small bucket of clothespins sitting at her feet.
How hard could it be?
Five minutes later she’d managed to trample one sheet into the mud. The other two were hanging, lopsided and drooping, from the line.
“It could be worse, I suppose.”
“Could be better, too.” A pie in one hand, a grocery bag in the other, Nora Freedman came around the side of the house, her eyes lined with laughter. “Never had to dry laundry the old-fashioned way, I see.”
“I’m afraid not. Hopefully it won’t take me long to get better at it.”
“It won’t. And I give you credit for even trying. You wouldn’t believe how many renters have turned down this property just because I don’t have a clothes dryer.”
“Their loss. My gain.”
Nora beamed at the words, her deep brown eyes glowing with pleasure. “I knew the minute I saw you, you were the person for this place. I’ve been praying about it, mind you. So it didn’t surprise me when Glenda called and said she might have a renter. Here, I’ve brought you a welcome gift. Pecan pie and some things to stock your cupboards.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“Of course I didn’t. I wanted to. I’ll leave everything in the kitchen. Gotta scoot. Prayer meeting in a half hour. Call me if you need something.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“See you at church Sunday? You did say you planned to attend Grace Christian?”
The nerves that Raven had held at bay for a week clawed at her stomach. “Yes. I’ll see you then.”
“I knew it. Just knew this would work out.” Then Nora was gone as quickly as she’d come, her squat, square figure disappearing around the corner of the house.
In the wake of her departure, the morning silence seemed almost deafening. Humming a tune to block out the emptiness, Raven bent to lift the dirty sheet and caught sight of a strange print in the barren, muddy earth. A footprint—each toe clearly defined, the arch and heel obvious. Small, but not a child’s foot. Someone had walked barefoot through the yard, despite the lingering winter chill from the damp spring morning.
Who? Why? Raven searched for another print and found one at the edge of the lawn. From there, a narrow footpath meandered through sparse trees, the prints obvious on earth still wet from last night’s rain. She followed the path until it widened and Smith Mountain Lake appeared, vast and blue, the water barely rippling. There, on a rickety dock that jutted toward the center of the lake, was her quarry—white hair, white skin, a bathing suit covering a thin back.
Raven hurried forward. “Are you all right?”
“Thea?” The woman turned, wispy hair settling in a cloud around a face lined with age. “I’ve been waiting forever. Didn’t we agree to meet at ten?”
Ten? It was past noon. Two hours was a long time to sit half clad in a chilly breeze. Raven’s concern grew, the nurse in her cataloguing what she saw: pale skin, goose bumps, a slight tremor. “Actually, I’m Raven. I live in the cottage up the hill.”
“Not Thea’s cottage? She didn’t tell me she had guests.”
“She probably forgot. Were you planning a swim?”
“Thea and I always swim at this time of year. Though usually it’s not quite so cold.”
“It is chilly today. Here, put this on.” Raven slid out of her jacket and placed it around the woman’s shoulders.
“Do I know you?”
“No, we haven’t met. I’m Raven Stevenson.”
“I’m Abigail Montgomery. Abby to my friends.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Abby. Would you like to join me for tea? I’ve got a wonderful chamomile up at the house.” Raven held out her hand and was relieved when Abby allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.
“Chamomile? It’s been years since I had that.”
“Then let’s go.” Raven linked her arm through Abby’s and led her toward the footpath, grimacing as she caught sight of her companion’s feet. Torn and dirty, they looked painful and swollen. Another walk through the brambles would only make things worse. “It looks like you’ve forgotten your shoes.”
Abby glanced down at her feet, confusion drawing her brows together. Then she looked at Raven, and behind her eyes past gave way to present. Raven had seen it many times, knew the moment Abby realized what had happened. She waited a beat, watching as the frail, vague woman transformed into someone else, stronger and much more aware.
“I’ve done it again, haven’t I.” The words were firm but Abby’s eyes betrayed her fear.
“Nothing so bad. Just a walk to the lake.”
“Dressed in a bathing suit? In…” Her voice trailed off, confusion marring her face once again.
“It’s April. A lovely day, but a bit too cold for a swim.”
“What was I thinking?” Frustration and despair laced the words.
“You were thinking about summer. Perhaps a summer long ago.”
“Do I know you?”
“My name is Raven. I live up the hill at the Freedman cottage.”
“Raven. A blackbird. Common. You’re more the exotic type, I’d think, with that wild hair and flowing dress.”
Raven laughed in agreement. “I’ve been fighting my name my entire life. You’re the first to notice.”
“Am I? Then I guess I’m not as far gone as I’d thought.” Despite the brave words, the tears behind Abby’s eyes were obvious, the slight trembling of her jaw giving away her emotions.
Raven let her have the moment, watched as she took a deep shuddering breath and glanced down at her bathing suit.
“I suppose it could be worse. At least I wore clothes this time. Now, tell me, where are we headed?”
“To the cottage for tea.”
“Let’s go, then.”
“Here, slip my shoes on first.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. What about you?”
“I’ve got tough skin.” Raven slid her feet out of open-heeled sneakers and knelt to help Abby put them on. “They’re a bit big, but we’ll have your own for you in no time at all.”
They made their way up the steep incline, Raven’s hand steady against Abby’s arm. It hurt to know that the woman beside her was being consumed by a disease that would steal her vitality and leave nothing behind but an empty shell. Why? It was a question she asked often in her job as a geriatric nurse. There was no answer. At least none that she could find, no matter how hard she prayed for understanding.
“Sometimes it just doesn’t happen the way we want.”
“What?” Startled, Raven glanced at Abby.
“Life. It doesn’t always work out the way we want it to. Sad, really. Don’t you think?”
Yes. Yes, she did think it was sad—her own life a sorry testament to the way things could go wrong. Raven wouldn’t say as much. Not to Abby with her stiff spine and desperate eyes. Not to anyone. “It can be, yes. But usually good comes from our struggles.”
“And just what good will come of me losing my marbles, I’d like to know?”
“We’ve met each other. That’s one good thing.”
“That’s true. I’ve got to admit I’m getting tired of not having another woman around the house.”
“Do you live alone?”
“No, I forget things, you know. I live with…I can’t seem to remember who’s staying with me.”
“It’s all right. The name will come to you.”
Of course, it wasn’t all right, was never all right when someone’s memory had gaping holes in it. But Abby seemed disinclined to discuss it further. Instead she gestured to the cottage that was coming into view.
“There it is. I haven’t been inside in ages. Have you lived here long?”
“I moved in this morning.”
“You remind me of the woman who used to live here.”
“Do I?”
“Thea. Such a lovely person. It’s sad. So sad.” The vague look was back in Abby’s eyes. Raven saw it as she helped her up the steps to the back door. Was someone out searching for the woman? Raven hoped so, as she had no idea where Abby lived. Nora probably knew. She’d call her after she got her guest settled.
She led Abby through the laundry room and kitchen, into the living room. “Is there anyone I should call? Someone who might be worried?”
Abby didn’t respond, just sat on the couch, lost in a world Raven wasn’t part of.
“Let’s take care of your feet, then I’ll make tea.” She cleaned and dressed the cuts, then helped Abby lie down. “Rest for a while. I won’t be long.”
Abby blinked up at her, then smiled. “You’re very kind and have a nurse’s touch.”
“I am a nurse.”
But Abby had already closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
“What do you mean, she’s gone? You’re being paid to take care of her. Not lose her.”
“She was watching TV, just as lucid as could be. Asked me to run out and get her some chocolate ice cream. I thought she’d be fine for a few minutes.”
“Martha.” Shane Montgomery stopped, raked a hand through his hair and took a calming breath. “We talked about this when I hired you. Aunt Abby cannot be left alone.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Martha’s quiet sniffles turned to deep sobs. “I thought she’d be fine. I never imagined…What if she’s gone to the lake? What if she drowns? It’ll be on me. On my head. Lord, forgive me.”
Shane bit back impatience. He didn’t deal well with hysterics and that was where Martha was heading, her round face red and wet with tears. “Let’s not panic yet. Aunt Abby has gone off before. She always comes home. There’s no reason to believe she won’t do the same this time.”
Except that Abby had gotten worse in the past months. So much worse that Shane was beginning to wonder if home was the best place for her. Unfortunately there wasn’t another option. He’d made a promise to her. He’d keep it. “Let’s call the police. Get them started on the search. Then we’ll—”
The phone rang, adding fuel to Martha’s fear. “What if it’s the police? What if she’s dead? It’ll be my fault. My fault.”
“Calm down, Martha. I won’t be able to hear above your crying.” Shane grabbed the phone on the third ring. “Hello.”
“Is this Shane Montgomery?” The voice was soft and pleasant.
“Yes.”
“My name is Raven Stevenson. I’m renting the Freedman property. Nora said you have an aunt. Abigail Montgomery.”
“That’s right.”
“She’s here at the cottage with me. I’m afraid she got a bit confused and—”
“I’ll be right there.”
Shane knew he was being rude, knew he should have given the woman a chance to speak, but his relief at knowing his aunt was safe overwhelmed his social skills. Not that he had many to begin with.
“Is she—?” Martha’s voice trembled, her wide brown eyes still overflowing with tears.
“She’s all right. I’m going to get her. Do me a favor and brew some of that tea she likes. What’s it called?”
“Chamomile?”
“That’s the one. I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
He knew the cottage. Had been there as a child and had no trouble finding it now. The driveway was still dirt and gravel, the house still pale yellow. Shane pulled up close to the porch and hopped out of his Mustang convertible.
The front door opened before he had a chance to take a step, and a woman walked out. Flower child. That was Shane’s first impression. Curly, untamed hair, flowy confection of a dress, and bare feet scraped and covered with dirt. He figured her to be flighty, naive, maybe a little scattered. Then he met her gaze and was surprised at the calm intelligence he saw there.
“You must be Shane.” Her voice still sounded pleasant, though decidedly cooler than it had on the phone.
“And you’re Raven.”
“Yes. Come in.” She stepped aside, allowing him to pass.
He caught a whiff of something flowery and light, heard the rustle of her dress as he brushed by, and thought of summer nights and fancy parties. Then he saw Abby and froze. She looked frail. Old.
“What am I going to do with you, Aunt Abby?”
Raven heard the pain in those words and her judgment shifted. She’d thought the man careless, unconcerned, but realized now she’d been wrong. She moved beside him, placed a hand on his arm and was surprised by a jolt of feeling. She’d thought herself immune to men, hoped herself immune.
Apparently she’d been wrong. She dropped her hand, but couldn’t resist the urge to comfort. “She’s all right. No harm was done.”
“No? I disagree. Look at her. Sleeping like a baby. How will she feel when she wakes up, not knowing where she is? Maybe not even knowing who she is?”
She sensed his frustration. He wanted to fix things, couldn’t, and was angry at his own inability. Raven could understand that. She was ready to say as much, when Abby surged off the couch, screeching, screaming, arms flailing as she lunged across the room.
“Dead! Thea’s dead!”
Chapter Two
Raven sidestepped, not quite avoiding the clawed fingers aimed at her face. Heart hammering, she moved behind the older woman, brushing against Shane who’d leaned in to help, and slipping an arm around Abby’s waist. “It’s okay, Abby. You’re dreaming. Wake up now. Your nephew is here.”
As she spoke she led Abby back to the couch and settled her onto the cushions.
“I need to go home.”
“Shane’s come to take you there.”
“Shane? Such a fine boy. It’s been years since I’ve seen him, you know.”
“Well, you’re in luck today. He’s here.” Raven wished the man would take his cue and step forward instead of watching with such concentration.
“Really?”
“Yes. Right there.”
She gestured in his direction and Shane finally got the hint, hurrying forward and placing a kiss on his aunt’s cheek.
“Aunt Abby. I’ve been worried about you.”
“Then you should have come to visit. I’ve missed you.”
“And I you. Come on, let’s go home.” He held out a hand and helped his aunt up, the look on his face more gentle than Raven would have believed possible from such a big, hard-looking man.
“Let me get some slippers for Abby’s feet.”
“I’m fine, dear. Don’t bother yourself.”
“Bare feet again, Aunt Abby? We’re going to have to do something about that. Can’t have you walking around town with your toes hanging out.” Shane smiled down at his aunt, kindly, smoothly taking the decision out of her hands.
Still, it stung. Raven could see it in the sudden coolness of Abby’s eyes. Her memory might be going, but pride still lived in the woman’s soul.
“I think I have just the thing.” Raven grabbed some sandals from the closet and held them out. “Perfect for a sunny day.”
“Lovely. Thank you, dear.”
Raven helped Abby slide her feet into the shoes, conscious of Shane’s gaze. When she straightened, she met his eyes and was surprised by the intensity she saw there. “She’s all set.”
“Thanks. I’ll return the sandals to you this evening.”
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t miss them.”
“I’ll return them.” He put a hand under Abby’s elbow and led her outside.
Raven closed the door and released the breath she’d been holding. There was something about Shane Montgomery that threw her off balance, made her jittery and tense. She didn’t like the feeling. She didn’t like it at all.
A harsh knock sounded at the door. Raven pulled it open, then stepped back. Silhouetted in the doorway Shane seemed even larger than he had before.
“I forgot to thank you. I do appreciate what you’ve done. Aunt Abby is…” His voice trailed off.
“She’s your aunt. A wonderful, strong, funny woman.”
“Yes. She is. It’s just harder to see that sometimes. Sorry about your cheek.”
His finger skimmed across her stinging flesh. Gentle, tender. Just as his touch had been with Abby.
But Raven was caregiver, not invalid, and she shifted away, uncomfortable with the gesture. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s something and I’m sorry it happened. Now, I’d better get her home.”
This time Raven waited at the door until the car disappeared from sight, wondering about the man who drove it. Shane seemed both gruff and caring. Devoted to his aunt, yet already burdened by her care. Would he be the kind to turn his back when the already rocky road got rockier? Would he stick it out until Abby didn’t know him anymore? Until she didn’t know herself? Or would he be one of the few that stayed until the last breath?
Raven wouldn’t even try to guess. Shane and Abby were family, and family was something she had little experience with, something she’d come to Lakeview, Virginia, to learn about. If she dared.
Her hands trembling just a little, she walked to the phone and picked up the phone book that sat beside it. She didn’t need to read the circled number. She’d memorized it earlier, had fought with herself about whether to call. Was still fighting with herself.
Had he changed much? As a scared eight-year-old, she’d seen Ben as a father, not a brother. It wasn’t until years later that she’d realized how young he’d been. Perhaps to him, being taken from their home had been a blessing. Perhaps he wanted nothing more than to put that part of his life behind him. If so, did Raven want to know? She’d been disappointed so many times in her life. Each time had hurt just a little more. Now she wondered if it would be better to forget the idea of reconciliation with her brother. Leave things as they had been so many years ago when she was too young to know that knights in shining armor were as tarnished as the rest of the world.
But it was too late to back out. She was here. All she had to do was work up the courage to reach for what she so desperately wanted—family.
Muscles tense with anxiety, she picked up the phone and dialed the number. Then closed her eyes as the phone rang. Once. Twice.
“Grace Christian Church, Penny speaking. May I help you?”
Raven swallowed hard and forced words past the fear in her throat. “Yes, I was wondering if Pastor Ben Avery is in today.”
“He is. Would you like to speak with him?”
“No. Well, yes, but I’d prefer to speak to him in person.”
“I’m sorry. His schedule is full. Would you like me to take a message?”
“Will you deliver it to him now? It’s very important.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Tell him Raven called. Tell him I’m on my way to the church.”
“I—”
“Thank you.” Raven hung up, grabbed a sweater from the closet, slid her feet into clogs and walked out the door.
She didn’t think, didn’t plan. What good would it do? Life had a way of happening in exactly the way it was meant to. No matter how hard one fought against it.
The church parking lot was nearly empty, the man standing in the center even more noticeable because of it. Faded blue jeans, a dark sweatshirt, sandy hair just a bit long, he watched Raven’s car as she parked near the church. Watched as she got out. Even from a distance she could see his eyes—startling blue in a tan, handsome face.
And she knew. Knew before he took the first step, before he sprinted across the area that separated them. Ben. Older, broader. A man now, not a boy, but still it was Ben running toward her, pulling her into his arms. The embrace so familiar, yet completely different.
“Raven.” No shout of joy. Just a whisper against her hair.
She pressed her cheek against the thud of Ben’s heart, wrapping her arms around his waist, pretending for just a moment that twenty years didn’t separate them.
They stood that way for several minutes. Then Ben pulled back, loosening his hold but not letting go. “Do you know how long I’ve been praying for this?”
His gaze skimmed her face, her hair, the flowing dress she wore. “You’re all grown up. And beautiful.”
“Not beautiful.”
“Yes, beautiful. Come inside. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
And as easily as that, he accepted her.
Raven allowed herself to be led through the church hall and into an office. A slim blond woman looked up as they walked in, her green eyes narrowing as she caught sight of Ben’s arm draped across Raven’s shoulder.
“Penny, this is my sister, Raven.”
“Sister?” Penny’s face relaxed and she stood, her hand extended in greeting. “I had no idea you had a sister, Ben. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“A pleasure to meet you, too.”
“Are you in town for a visit?”
“I—”
“No third-degree today, Penny. I’m going to grab my things and head home. Can you call Jim Ross? See if he minds filling in on visitation today.”
“Of course.”
Ben nodded, then ushered Raven into a small room. “This is my office, such as it is.”
She imagined him sitting behind the old wood desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked at the computer. Imagined him standing in front of a congregation, preaching, teaching, ministering. It fit.
Her brother the pastor.
“You’re smiling. What are you thinking?” He spoke as he grabbed a briefcase and led her back out of the office.
“That this fits you. The church. The office.” They stepped into the hall, and Raven leaned close. “Even the jealous receptionist.”
“Jealous? Penny?” He laughed. “She’s got bigger fish to fry. Last I heard she was dating a doctor. You still like pink lemonade?”
“It’s my favorite.”
“You’re in luck, then. I always keep a pitcher of it in the fridge. My house is right through those trees.”
Decorated in neutral tones, the small, one-level house didn’t seem to reflect anything about the owner. No photos. No knickknacks. Just clean white walls, a few tasteful prints and comfortable furniture.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Raven did as she was asked, easing down onto the sofa and trying hard to look relaxed. Ben was both brother and stranger to her. That made things awkward.
“You’re sad.” He handed her a tall glass of lemonade and sat beside her.
“A little. You’re not the big brother who gave me piggyback rides to the grocery store and bandaged my scraped knees.”
“I know. And you’re not the little girl with braids and ribbons. But we’re still siblings. Still family.”
“That’s why I came.”
“Then there’s nothing to be sad about.”
“We’re strangers, Ben. Not family.”
“Families are built. One day at a time. One experience at a time.”
“You seem so…accepting about this.”
“I guess I’m too happy for anything else. When I got your letters I thought—”
“Letters?” Raven felt the breath catch in her lungs.
“Six or seven years ago. You said you’d contact me if and when you were ready.”
“I didn’t write you.”
“I kept the letters. Come on, I’ll show you.” He led Raven down a short hall and into a room that was almost a replica of his office at the church. “Take a look.”
There were four letters, each dated more than six years ago. Each typewritten with Raven’s name scrawled across the bottom.
“I didn’t write these.”
“Sit down. You’re pale as a ghost.” Ben pressed her down into a chair and crouched in front of her, his vivid eyes filled with concern. “Tell me. If you didn’t write the letters, then who?”
“My husband.”
“I’d wondered.”
“Did you?” Raven ran a hand through her hair, felt the tangles and wished she’d tied it back prim and proper, the way she’d worn it for so many years. “I didn’t. I just assumed what Jonas told me was true. That you’d forgotten all about me. Gone on with your life.”
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