Bogeyman. Gayle Wilson

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СКАЧАТЬ matter what else might have gone wrong in her life, Maddie was the one thing that had always been right. And the reason Blythe had chosen to return to the small Alabama community where she’d been raised.

      “Then say them now,” she prompted.

      Maddie closed her eyes, putting her joined hands in front of her face, small thumbs touching her lips. “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

      Blythe wondered who had decided that was an appropriate prayer for a child. Of course Maddie, who said the words by rote, was probably not even cognizant of their meaning.

      Thank God.

      “God bless Mommy and Miz Ruth and Delores.” Maddie’s listing of personal blessings that had grown by two since their move to Crenshaw. “And God keep Daddy safe in heaven. Amen.”

      “Amen,” Blythe repeated softly.

      Her daughter’s blue eyes flew open to catch her mother studying her face. “You didn’t close your eyes.”

      “If I did, I couldn’t look at you.”

      “But you aren’t supposed to look at me. You’re supposed to bow your head and close your eyes. Everybody knows that.”

      As Blythe herself had always been, Maddie was an obeyer of rules. The trait made her an easy child to handle, but Blythe often wondered if it shouldn’t be her role to introduce the occasional urge to rebel into her daughter’s well-ordered existence.

      “Sorry. I guess I forgot,” Blythe said, her smile widening at the note of concern in Maddie’s voice.

      “You better ask forgiveness. Before you go to sleep. You hear me?”

      The culture of the area was obviously making inroads, not only on the little girl’s speech, but on her thinking as well. Blythe could hardly complain, since that was one of the reasons she’d brought Maddie back. That and the fact that the only family she had left in the world was here.

      “I will, I promise. And you promise to sleep tight, okay?”

      “Okay.” Maddie turned slightly to one side, one hand sliding under the feather pillow, another item on loan from her great-grandmother’s house.

      The necessity of that kind of borrowing had also, like it or not, played a part in their homecoming. The little insurance money that had been left after the bills had all been paid, including those incurred by the move, wouldn’t have extended to luxuries like feather pillows. With her grandmother’s generosity, it would go a little further and hopefully keep them solvent until Blythe could find some kind of permanent employment.

      “Just don’t say that thing Miz Ruth always says,” Maddie ordered without opening her eyes.

      “What thing?”

      “About the bugs biting me.”

      Blythe could almost hear her grandmother’s voice, its distinctive Southern accent repeating the same good-night wish she’d whispered to Blythe when she was a child. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.

      “That’s just a silly old saying.” She bent over to press a kiss on the little girl’s temple. “There are no bedbugs here or at Miz Ruth’s.”

      Maddie had quickly picked up on the name by which most of the inhabitants of Crenshaw referred to Ruth Mitchell. Or maybe because that was how her grandmother’s housekeeper always addressed her, and the little girl spent her mornings with the two old women.

      In any case, given the growing closeness between them, Blythe had decided that it didn’t matter what Maddie called her great-grandmother. Ruth Mitchell would be for Maddie exactly what she had been for Blythe—friend, confidante and role model. The child couldn’t have a better one.

      Blythe pushed up from her perch on the edge of the bed, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp as she did. The flash of lightning that illuminated the darkened room was followed closely by a clap of thunder.

      Blythe glanced down at the little girl in the bed, but her eyes were still closed. Apparently the storm didn’t bother her.

      Normally, they didn’t bother Blythe either. There was something about this one, however, that had kept her slightly on edge since the rain had started. If the power went out—

      That’s what she had intended to do, she remembered. Locate the flashlight and gather up any candles she could find. Despite having been here for a couple of months, she hadn’t managed to get everything unpacked.

      Of course, working at Raymond Lucky’s law office half a day made it hard to get much done at the house. And she couldn’t have managed either the job or the unpacking had her grandmother and Delores not been so eager to look after Maddie for her.

      When she’d started with Ray, Blythe had intended to prove herself so invaluable that he’d be forced to hire her full-time. Now she knew he didn’t have enough clients to warrant that expenditure. Although her greatest fear was that Ray would decide he couldn’t afford her any longer, she had already started putting out feelers for more permanent—and more lucrative—positions.

      Despite the obvious advantages of her move back home, that was the major drawback to living in this small, rural community. A lack of jobs that related to any of her skills.

      Without the required education courses that would allow her to teach, her English degree seemed worthless in this setting. As did the five years before Maddie’s birth that she’d spent as editor of one of Boston’s small entertainment magazines.

      Such as they are, she acknowledged.

      Denying the rush of bitterness over the turn her life had taken, Blythe flipped the switch for the overhead light as she entered the kitchen, welcoming its glow. Despite her earlier uneasiness, the room seemed warm and familiar.

      Safe.

      She rummaged through the drawers, searching for the utility candles she knew she’d brought with her. This was where she’d always kept them in the old house. She couldn’t imagine where else she might have put them when she’d unpacked the container they’d been in.

      Which probably indicated she hadn’t. And that meant they were in one of the boxes lined up along the wall in what had been the house’s front parlor.

      She debated letting the candles go and simply going back upstairs to bed. That way if the power did go out, she’d never know.

      Not unless Maddie has another nightmare.

      The thought was enough to send her out of the kitchen and into the hall. She stopped a moment at the foot of the stairs, listening for any sounds coming from the little girl’s bedroom. She could hear nothing but the steady beat of the rain against the roof.

      She crossed the hall to open the door of the parlor. She kept this room shut off in an attempt to keep the utility bill down. Besides, other than using it as storage, she couldn’t imagine that she would ever need the space.

      By force of habit she flipped the switch, remembering only when nothing happened that she’d not yet replaced the bulbs in the overhead fixture. So far, she had СКАЧАТЬ