Forgotten Past. Mary Alford

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       ONE

      She’d made a dreadful mistake. The minute the headlights of her car swept over the house, Faith realized it deep down in her heart.

      Truth be told, she had made a whole string of mistakes, including the one she prayed wouldn’t prove to be the most costly. When she’d left the house earlier, she had forgotten to turn any lights on. Now night had fallen and nothing but a dark silhouette loomed before her. Just the thought of what might be waiting outside the safety of the car made her heartbeat go ballistic.

      Please, Lord...protect me.

      Faith clutched the steering wheel tight in an attempt to steady her trembling hands as she peered out the windshield. Nothing seemed out of place, but then again, it was pitch-black out. There were no streetlights this far from town, and dense clouds obscured the moon and stars. While the car’s headlights illuminated most of the side of the house and a portion of the front, it didn’t quite reach the door.

      Foolish, foolish, foolish. She couldn’t believe she’d acted so foolishly.

      At the time, she hadn’t thought about anything but getting away for a little while. The walls had been closing in on her, and she knew if she didn’t find a way to clear her head, she would end up throwing everything she owned into the back of her car and running for her life once again.

      Driving along the breathtaking stretch of Maine coastline while the setting sun painted the waters a kaleidoscope of colors helped put things into perspective. There was something about the never-ending cycle of the tide as it rolled against the rocky shoreline and then out to sea again that gave her a sense of peace. It reminded her that it didn’t matter what she went through in her life, or how scary or insurmountable her fears seemed, God was in control.

      Most days, she could control the doubts. Today hadn’t been one of them. All because of the call. The reason she’d moved to Hope Island, a small town of a little more than ten thousand in population located at the southernmost tip of the Maine coastline. She had been running from him.

      This move was supposed to be different. Faith had banked all her future happiness on it working this time. The call had proved her wrong. She had lost track of the number of times she’d uprooted her life just to get away from him. It had become second nature whenever she felt threatened. Today, when the call came in and the tiniest bit of hope she still clung to evaporated, she had definitely felt threatened.

      At twenty-eight, Faith had given up two years of her life to this thing. She’d changed her name, her looks, shut herself off from the world as much as humanly possible, and yet each time he found her again.

      She glanced up at the house and shivered at the possible dangers lying in wait inside.

      Funny how something could appear so different when you were seeing it through the eyes of fear. Just a little more than a month earlier, she’d fallen in love with the old, two-story Cape Cod and rented it on the spot. Now, she could imagine him hiding in the enormous country kitchen, or lurking in the shadowy hallway.

      Faith cracked the car’s window and listened. Above the surging ocean waves beyond the house, nothing sounded unusual.

      Yet something wasn’t right. By now, Ollie would have recognized the sound of her vehicle and started barking like crazy.

      She blew out a sigh. She couldn’t stay out here all night. Maybe the call had truly been a wrong number this time.

      Faith killed the engine, got out and hurried up the steps. She barely had time to put the key into the door when she heard it. Footsteps coming quickly up the stairs behind her. A shaft of light from a flashlight bounced off the porch and up the side of the house. Utterly unnerved, the hand holding her keys jarred away from her and the keys flew from her fingers.

      “No.” The word slipped from her tremulous lips.

      She turned toward the light and the beam temporarily blinded her.

      Faith had rehearsed this moment dozens of times in her head and yet the reality of it didn’t feel anything like what she’d practiced.

      Without the keys, the car would be useless, which left only one option. She’d need to make it to the back of the house. There were a handful of houses scattered along the stretch of beach behind her place. If she could reach one of them, hopefully someone would help her.

      Faith raced toward the steps located off the side of the porch and away from the figure with the light.

      There were three—no, four—steps leading down to the grassy yard. The fence separating her small backyard from the beach would be some fifteen feet behind the house. She’d carefully counted off each step her first day here.

      “Wait.”

      She vaguely detected a deep male voice calling out to her when her right foot cleared the final step. She didn’t dare look back. Her breath came in labored gasps as she rushed in the direction that she gauged the gate to be. Just a few more feet. Almost there.

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