Return To Falcon Ridge. Rita Herron

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СКАЧАТЬ maybe she could sleep peacefully without ghosts filling her dreams and the sounds of crying children echoing in her head, constantly torturing her. The clouds grew ominous, the wind whipping tree branches and dead leaves across the deserted mountain road as she headed toward Wildcat. Images of the monsters and overgrown wildcats popped in and out of her mind as if they were congregating in the woods to drive her away when she returned.

      She clutched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip and perspiration dotted her face as she approached the town. Sleet slashed the windows, fogging the windshield and making the road slick with black ice. Whispers of danger floated through the air, and the daunting eyes of the devil as he waited for her return pierced the darkness.

      Her nerves pinged as she parked at the deserted building. The stone structure looked even more macabre with weeds and vines climbing the sides. Burned and charred stone still covered the bottom floor wall, and the wildcat turrets flanking the massive front door practically growled into the wind. Icicles clung to the windows, hanging in jagged pointed tips that looked like swords.

      Elsie’s throat closed. She had run from here once and had survived. If she stepped back inside, would she survive a second time?

      Chapter Two

      Deke had managed to stay behind Elsie without her noticing for the two-hour drive, but her frantic escape worried him. She obviously was terrified of him, or somebody. And she was in trouble….

      Just what kind? Trouble with the law? With a man?

      Either one would complicate his job.

      Then again, maybe she’d confide in him once she learned his real reason for coming. But what if she didn’t want to see her mother? What had her father told her about Deanna?

      Night had fallen as she’d turned into a mile-long driveway that climbed a curvy dirt road. Snow swirled in a blinding haze, fogging his windows and creating crystals of ice that clung to the glass. Not wanting Elsie to see him, he parked in the alcove of a cluster of pines, then walked the rest of the way up the drive. Wind clawed at his face and hands, the sound of a loud growl in the woods nearby alerting him that the forest could be dangerous to some. The birds of prey who were his friends. And others….

      As he drew nearer the mansion, his skin crawled. That was no ordinary house. There had been tall metal gates at the entrance, although they’d been open, and an eight-foot electric fence surrounded the property as if it had once been a prison. The gray stone structure resembled a mausoleum with turrets and a spiked chimney. There were five of them actually. A smaller stone garage was attached, a gardener’s shed beside it connected by a path of overgrown weeds fighting through the snow and ice.

      The sign, Wildcat Manor, indicated it had been an orphanage at one time. It had obviously been deserted for years. The boxwoods and shrubs were misshapen, weeds draped the porch and sides and a fire had burned the bottom floor caking the stone with black soot, worsened by decay and age.

      What the hell was Elsie Timmons doing here?

      The realization that this might have once been her home hit him in the gut. Geez, the place looked more like a funeral home than a loving place for children. Had her father kidnapped her, then left her here for some reason? Because he hadn’t wanted her, or had something happened to him?

      Deanna’s anguished face flashed in his mind. If her husband had been alive and left Elsie here because he didn’t want her, Deanna Simmons had pined away for her daughter while the girl must have felt so alone…. And if he’d died, why hadn’t someone contacted Deanna? Why hadn’t Elsie tried to reach her mother over the years?

      Elsie walked up the steps, her slim figure tiny next to the massive oaks flanking the drive. He watched, mesmerized by her beauty. But her face was as pale as the white snow dotting the ground. And when she reached for the door, her entire body trembled and tears flowed down her cheeks.

      As hard and tough as he’d always thought himself to be, his heart throbbed with emotion.

      Emotions had no place in his job.

      He would not allow himself to care for a woman, especially Elsie Timmons who had run from him at first glance. She had a mother waiting for her, and he had no part in her life. He would return to Arizona when he finished here. Alone.

      Back to his birds of prey and the wilderness where he belonged.

      Determined to complete the job, he stepped forward anyway. He had to get to the truth, pry into her secrets and convince her to return to Falcon Ridge. Then Deanna Timmons could find peace.

      And he would be done with them and could go home.

      ELSIE SHOULDN’T have come. She should have driven to a hotel for the night.

      But she had to face her demons or she might never be whole again. Hadn’t the professors pounded that into their heads in psychology class?

      Still, there were so many ghosts here, so much anguish….

      The wind cut through her bones as she closed her eyes, willing her courage to surface.

      You witnessed Hodges burn to death yourself. You even saw Hattie Mae standing over his grave, her head bent in sorrow. Or maybe it had been shame or relief.

      Elsie had never understood how Hattie Mae had succumbed to her husband’s sick wishes and let the girls suffer his cruelties.

      Hattie Mae is gone, too. The house is empty, and no one can hurt you.

      Elsie braced herself for the squeak of the stone door, but she shivered as she stepped inside the dark entry. The scent of dust and mildew filled her nostrils, along with fear and death. Even ten years later, the pungent odor of Hodges’s flesh being charred rose with the dust motes.

      Her footsteps sounded hollow on the marble floor, her erratic breathing rattling in the ominous quiet as she forced herself forward in search of a light. The electricity had probably been turned off. With the frigid temperatures, she’d freeze tonight.

      No, there were the fireplaces and the lanterns.

      Hattie Mae had always kept a dozen kerosene lanterns filled and ready for use when the power failed, and wood had been stacked in every room with a fireplace. As if on autopilot, she moved through the icy, cavernous living area to the kitchen. There she felt along the wall until she reached the pantry where she discovered several lanterns filled and ready for use. Matches were also stacked beside them as if Hattie Mae had been waiting on someone’s return.

      Elsie barely stifled the urge to turn and run. But she had been running all her life.

      No more.

      She would face this place and slay her demons. In honor of all the girls whose hopes and dreams had died here, she’d turn it into a safe haven for troubled teens who could find hope for a better life.

      A flick of the match and the lantern lit up. Determined to overcome her anxiety, she forced herself to examine the kitchen, then the rooms on the main floor. Only leftover discarded antiques that had once shone with polish and glory remained, still sitting in the same places she remembered. The fabrics were faded, the wood dusty, the walls a dreary pea green, the paintings water damaged. She would change all that, paint the rooms bright colors, get rid of the grim furnishings and replace them with more functional contemporary pieces, sturdy ones that would turn the dark, sinister СКАЧАТЬ