The Scent of Heather. V. J. Banis
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Scent of Heather - V. J. Banis страница 5

Название: The Scent of Heather

Автор: V. J. Banis

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература

Серия:

isbn: 9781434448859

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ for me she’s somewhat of a tightwad. She wouldn’t spend a nickel to have it repainted white so she more or less accepted it after she saw it. Naturally she raised my rent.” He laughed as he carved a piece off his steak. “She’s odd, all right, but it is the only place in town where you can get a room.”

      “You should build yourself a motel,” Rebecca suggested.

      “There really isn’t any call for one. As I told you, our tourist traffic is practically nil.” He put the piece of steak in his mouth and chewed.

      Rebecca patted his arm. “Well, if old Mrs. Johnston gets to be too much for you, you can always rent a couple of rooms from me and Maggie.”

      He swallowed hard, giving Rebecca the strangest look. “Yes, that would be nice,” he said. He averted his eyes and busied himself with carving another slice of meat. When he looked up he was smiling. “Of course, the local churchgoers wouldn’t look too kindly on my living in a house occupied by two beautiful and eligible women. We’d be the scandal of Pinebrook.”

      Rebecca smiled. “Good. Maybe it’ll liven things up around here.”

      “Rebecca,” Maggie admonished with a smile.

      “Incidentally,” Rebecca said, “Maggie and I noticed something rather peculiar during our little walk around the town this afternoon.”

      “Oh? What was that?”

      “Everybody here seems to have a penchant for white doors. I thought old Mrs. Johnston was strange with her all-white house, but everyone seems to have a thing for white. Every house we saw had a white front door. What’s the significance of that?”

      David looked sly. He bent his head and concentrated on his steak. “The original inhabitants of this area were the Maidu Indians. They were a very superstitious lot and the white doors you see around here are a throwback to one of their superstitions.”

      “The what Indians?” Rebecca asked.

      “Maidu. It’s believed that they migrated from Russia. From Siberia, to be exact. Thousands of years ago there was no such thing as the Bering Strait, which separates North America from Asia—Alaska from Russia. It was all one solid piece of land. Tribes looking for food and warmer climates crossed over what is now the Bering Strait and kept moving south. The Maidus were one of them, historians believe. There are still a lot of them around. They settled mostly in the Feather and American river valleys. We owe our steam baths to them.”

      “Our steam baths?” Rebecca laughed.

      “Yes. The Maidus and their neighbors to the north, the Pomo Indians, were very adept at constructing all sorts of buildings like dance halls and meeting houses.”

      “Dance halls? You’re putting me on.”

      “No, really. They used them for religious ceremonies and other rituals. They also built what they called ‘sweat-houses.’ They were made out of reeds and bark and inside the Indians sprinkled water over a pile of hot stones to produce steam. Every day the men took steam baths. They slept in those sweathouses and spent much of the winter inside them.”

      “Without their women? Very interesting,” Rebecca said. “But what does all this have to do with white doors?”

      “Nothing actually, except that the Maidus were very big on bleaching everything white. They said it dispelled evil spirits.”

      Maggie leaned into the conversation. “And I suppose there are evil spirits in Pinebrook?”

      David gave an indifferent shrug. “Some think there are.” He speared a piece of meat. “As I said, the people around here are very superstitious.”

      “Old Mrs. Johnston said something about evil this afternoon,” Rebecca said.

      Maggie suddenly frowned at her. She wanted to forget what Mrs. Johnston had said.

      “Oh?” David appeared not to be interested but, despite Maggie’s frown and David’s seeming indifference, Rebecca went on.

      “Yes. She told Maggie that the house we rented was evil.”

      “Rebecca. Please,” Maggie said sternly. “Let’s not discuss that.”

      “I was only saying....”

      “I said I’d prefer we didn’t discuss it,” Maggie said sharply.

      Rebecca studied her sister for a moment. “What’s with you, Mag? You look all upset.”

      Maggie sighed. “Oh, I don’t know, Rebecca. I suppose I’m just tired from the trip and all. I just feel all on edge for some reason or other. I let that old woman get to me. Forgive me, Mr. McCloud. Would you mind terribly if I went back to the rooming house? I’m afraid I’m not very good company this evening.”

      “But you haven’t finished your dinner,” he said.

      “I’ve had all I want,” she said, getting out of her chair. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. Sitting next to Rebecca only served to remind her of the evil in her past. Was that same evil catching up with her again? No, she must not think of that ever again, she reminded herself.

      David stood up. “Well, if you feel you must leave, I’ll drive you back, of course.”

      “No, please. Don’t let me spoil your evening. It isn’t far. I can find my way easily enough. Good night,” she said quickly and turned and walked out of the restaurant.

      “Do you think your sister will be all right?” David asked Rebecca.

      Rebecca shrugged. “She gets like that sometimes. Don’t pay her any mind. She’s still pretty upset about losing her husband. Rod was a terrific guy.” She sipped from her water glass. “I’m actually quite concerned about Maggie. She hasn’t been acting like herself lately.”

      “How do you mean?”

      “Oh, I don’t know. She’s prone to tempers of late. She has always been a quiet, sensible kind of girl. Now, however, she’s turned into a stranger. The least little thing sets her off. You saw what I mean. She’s been kind of moody since she had that little talk with Mrs. Johnston.”

      “What happened with Mrs. Johnston?”

      “Oh, we ran in to her on the porch and she told Maggie we were making a mistake leasing Heather House...that the house was evil or something like that. Maggie got all upset about it. I think she would have really gotten rude if I hadn’t tugged her away.”

      “Did Mrs. Johnston explain what she meant by saying the house was evil?”

      “No, that’s just it. All Mrs. Johnston said was that we were making a mistake, that the house was evil, and Wham, Maggie got all uptight.”

      “I wonder what possessed Mrs. Johnston to say a thing like that?”

      “Well, if you remember, you yourself said some people believe Heather Lambert’s ghost is still roaming around in that old place.”

      David chuckled. “Oh, that. Well, everyone around here thinks Heather Lambert is still sitting up at that СКАЧАТЬ