So Dark The Night. Margaret Daley

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СКАЧАТЬ She doesn’t know me.”

      “I asked her to.”

      “Why?”

      “I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

      “Do you think I’m helpless?”

      “No.”

      “Do you think I’m in danger?”

      “It’s a possibility and my aunt can certainly take care of you.”

      “Is she with the police?”

      “She’s retired from the army, but her last job was teaching people how to defend themselves.”

      When he had said retired, a vision of a woman in her sixties or seventies, white haired, bent over, popped into Emma’s mind. Even if his aunt had taught self-defense and had been in the army, she was hardly someone who could take care of her. “How old is she?”

      “Forty-six.”

      “And she’s retired?”

      “Only from the army. She writes children’s books now.”

      Conflicting images flowed through her mind—none of them of someone who she thought could protect her. “If your aunt’s forty-six, how old are you? Twenty?”

      “Thirty-six, so she’s more like a big sister than an aunt, and she won’t let me call her Aunt Grace. Just Grace.”

      His answer sent relief through her and she wasn’t sure why. “I still don’t understand how a stranger would want to help me.”

      “You’ll understand when you meet Grace. My daughters practically live over at her house. They think she’s cool.”

      “Daughters? You’re married?” Of course, he would be. Why would she think otherwise and why had she bothered to ask?

      “My wife died four years ago. I have fifteen-year-old twins who have tested this father’s patience on more than one occasion.”

      Exasperation roughened his voice, masking his Southern drawl. Emma laughed. “That’s what teenage girls are put on this earth for.”

      “To test fathers’ patience?”

      “To be exasperating.” Memories of her own father, absent from her teenage years, flooded her mind and all laughter faded.

      “Then they have fulfilled their calling. So what do you say? Want to spend some time in Crystal Springs recovering?”

      Thinking about the blank pages of her mind chilled her to the marrow of her bones. Whom should she trust?

      FOUR

      Emma grasped Colin’s elbow and allowed him to lead her to his aunt’s porch. On the last step, Emma’s foot caught and she stumbled forward. Colin caught her before she fell flat on her face. She gritted her teeth, feeling the heat of embarrassment scorching her cheeks. The simple act of walking was even difficult now. Ever since she’d left her hospital room twenty minutes ago, she felt as though she were Alice in Wonderland, nothing as it seemed and everything different.

      “Okay?”

      His concern brought her anger to the foreground. “I’m just great. I love being led around like a child.” The second she said that last sentence, she sensed Colin stiffen beside her.

      He proceeded forward, his arm still wrapped about her. She stepped away. For a few seconds she stood alone, not sure what lay in front or to the side. Her vulnerability increased, making a mockery of her sense of independence, something she had always been proud of and had desperately needed. No more. She had to depend on others—virtual strangers—and she wasn’t sure how she would cope. But staying with her mother or father had not been an option.

      “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve done more than enough for me. Any person who can avoid the press as you did at the hospital has my debt of gratitude.”

      “I know all the ways into the hospital. They don’t. It was a piece of cake.”

      “It won’t be long before they figure out where I am. Are you ready for them?”

      “They haven’t met my aunt. She’ll take care of them.”

      The chimes of the bell announced their arrival and caused Emma to wonder again at the decision she’d made in the hospital. Having no one really to turn to was a sad statement on her life. Until now, she hadn’t even realized how isolated she was from others.

      A good minute later the door opened. The scents of apples and cinnamon wafted to Emma, causing her mouth to water. She inhaled a deep breath of the delicious smells, her appetite aroused for the first time in days.

      “You must be Emma St. James,” a woman said in a voice that was loud and commanding with a thick Southern drawl.

      A hand larger than hers took hold of Emma’s and pumped her arm in a vigorous handshake.

      “I’m Colin’s aunt, Grace. Come in. Come in.”

      The woman clasped her and pulled her into the house. Emma thought of a steamroller barreling over her. Her mind spun, her senses assaulted with so much unfamiliarity. The unknown, in more ways than one, lay before her and a panicky feeling grew.

      “I’m finishing up in the kitchen. Colin, bring her on in while I take the pies out of the oven.”

      His aunt released her grip on Emma. Grace’s footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor as she hurried away.

      He shifted toward her. “Here, take my arm.”

      Emma froze. Her mind continued to reel with sensations, smells and sounds coming at her from all sides, overloading her. A clock ticked to the right of her while gospel music played in the background. Infused in the scents of cinnamon and apples was a lemony odor with a faint hint of bleach. Chimes noting the hour of two blared through the din.

      “Emma?” Colin’s gentle voice added to all the other noises bombarding her.

      “Stop.” She shook her head, backing up a pace. “I can’t do this.” Her impulse was to turn around and flee, then the reality of her situation gripped her and she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere. She didn’t even know where the door was!

      “I’m sorry. I can show you to your room, instead. Grace will understand.”

      Will she? I don’t. “Please. I’m tired.” She winced at the weak thread to her words, but feelings of hopelessness and helplessness assailed her, pressing her down into a black void she was afraid she would never emerge from.

      He gave her his arm again, then began plodding forward, one slow step at a time. “Grace has fixed up a bedroom in the back on the first floor. That way you don’t—”

      “Have to break my neck on the stairs,” she said, thinking of the near accident on the porch.

      “Well, СКАЧАТЬ