Die Before Nightfall
Raven wouldn’t even try to guess. Shane and Abby were family, and family was something she had little experience with, something she’d come to Lakeview, Virginia, to learn about. If she dared.
Her hands trembling just a little, she walked to the phone and picked up the phone book that sat beside it. She didn’t need to read the circled number. She’d memorized it earlier, had fought with herself about whether to call. Was still fighting with herself.
Had he changed much? As a scared eight-year-old, she’d seen Ben as a father, not a brother. It wasn’t until years later that she’d realized how young he’d been. Perhaps to him, being taken from their home had been a blessing. Perhaps he wanted nothing more than to put that part of his life behind him. If so, did Raven want to know? She’d been disappointed so many times in her life. Each time had hurt just a little more. Now she wondered if it would be better to forget the idea of reconciliation with her brother. Leave things as they had been so many years ago when she was too young to know that knights in shining armor were as tarnished as the rest of the world.
But it was too late to back out. She was here. All she had to do was work up the courage to reach for what she so desperately wanted—family.
Muscles tense with anxiety, she picked up the phone and dialed the number. Then closed her eyes as the phone rang. Once. Twice.
“Grace Christian Church, Penny speaking. May I help you?”
Raven swallowed hard and forced words past the fear in her throat. “Yes, I was wondering if Pastor Ben Avery is in today.”
“He is. Would you like to speak with him?”
“No. Well, yes, but I’d prefer to speak to him in person.”
“I’m sorry. His schedule is full. Would you like me to take a message?”
“Will you deliver it to him now? It’s very important.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Tell him Raven called. Tell him I’m on my way to the church.”
“I—”
“Thank you.” Raven hung up, grabbed a sweater from the closet, slid her feet into clogs and walked out the door.
She didn’t think, didn’t plan. What good would it do? Life had a way of happening in exactly the way it was meant to. No matter how hard one fought against it.
The church parking lot was nearly empty, the man standing in the center even more noticeable because of it. Faded blue jeans, a dark sweatshirt, sandy hair just a bit long, he watched Raven’s car as she parked near the church. Watched as she got out. Even from a distance she could see his eyes—startling blue in a tan, handsome face.
And she knew. Knew before he took the first step, before he sprinted across the area that separated them. Ben. Older, broader. A man now, not a boy, but still it was Ben running toward her, pulling her into his arms. The embrace so familiar, yet completely different.
“Raven.” No shout of joy. Just a whisper against her hair.
She pressed her cheek against the thud of Ben’s heart, wrapping her arms around his waist, pretending for just a moment that twenty years didn’t separate them.
They stood that way for several minutes. Then Ben pulled back, loosening his hold but not letting go. “Do you know how long I’ve been praying for this?”
His gaze skimmed her face, her hair, the flowing dress she wore. “You’re all grown up. And beautiful.”
“Not beautiful.”
“Yes, beautiful. Come inside. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
And as easily as that, he accepted her.
Raven allowed herself to be led through the church hall and into an office. A slim blond woman looked up as they walked in, her green eyes narrowing as she caught sight of Ben’s arm draped across Raven’s shoulder.
“Penny, this is my sister, Raven.”
“Sister?” Penny’s face relaxed and she stood, her hand extended in greeting. “I had no idea you had a sister, Ben. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“A pleasure to meet you, too.”
“Are you in town for a visit?”
“I—”
“No third-degree today, Penny. I’m going to grab my things and head home. Can you call Jim Ross? See if he minds filling in on visitation today.”
“Of course.”
Ben nodded, then ushered Raven into a small room. “This is my office, such as it is.”
She imagined him sitting behind the old wood desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked at the computer. Imagined him standing in front of a congregation, preaching, teaching, ministering. It fit.
Her brother the pastor.
“You’re smiling. What are you thinking?” He spoke as he grabbed a briefcase and led her back out of the office.
“That this fits you. The church. The office.” They stepped into the hall, and Raven leaned close. “Even the jealous receptionist.”
“Jealous? Penny?” He laughed. “She’s got bigger fish to fry. Last I heard she was dating a doctor. You still like pink lemonade?”
“It’s my favorite.”
“You’re in luck, then. I always keep a pitcher of it in the fridge. My house is right through those trees.”
Decorated in neutral tones, the small, one-level house didn’t seem to reflect anything about the owner. No photos. No knickknacks. Just clean white walls, a few tasteful prints and comfortable furniture.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Raven did as she was asked, easing down onto the sofa and trying hard to look relaxed. Ben was both brother and stranger to her. That made things awkward.
“You’re sad.” He handed her a tall glass of lemonade and sat beside her.
“A little. You’re not the big brother who gave me piggyback rides to the grocery store and bandaged my scraped knees.”
“I know. And you’re not the little girl with braids and ribbons. But we’re still siblings. Still family.”
“That’s why I came.”
“Then there’s nothing to be sad about.”
“We’re strangers, Ben. Not family.”
“Families are built. One day at a time. One experience at a time.”
“You seem so…accepting about this.”
“I guess I’m too happy for anything else. When I got your letters I thought—”
“Letters?” Raven felt the breath catch in her lungs.
“Six or seven years ago. You said you’d contact me if and when you were ready.”
“I didn’t write you.”
“I kept the letters. Come on, I’ll show you.” He led Raven down a short hall and into a room that was almost a replica of his office at the church. “Take a look.”
There were four letters, each dated more than six years ago. Each typewritten with Raven’s name scrawled across the bottom.
“I didn’t write these.”
“Sit down. You’re pale as a ghost.” Ben pressed her down into a chair and crouched in front of her, his vivid eyes filled with concern. “Tell me. If you didn’t write the letters, then who?”
“My husband.”
“I’d wondered.”
“Did you?” Raven ran a hand through her hair, felt the tangles and wished she’d tied it back prim and proper, the way she’d worn it for so many years. “I didn’t. I just assumed what Jonas told me was true. That you’d forgotten all about me. Gone on with your life.”
“You married young.”
“Not so young. I was twenty.”
“And your husband was what? Forty?”
“You seem to know an awful lot about my life.”
“Want me to tell you more? Mom regained custody of you the year after we were taken away. You lived in Chicago. Then Baltimore. You graduated high school there, at the top of your class, a year ahead of your peers. Four years later you received a degree in nursing from the University of Maryland. Married the same year. A doctor.”
“Like I said, you know a lot about my life.”
“I cared, Raven. There’s never been a time that you weren’t in my heart and mind. It just took me a long time to find you. Mom—”
“Was Mom.” Raven didn’t want to dredge up the past. Didn’t want to open the old wounds.
“She didn’t have credit cards. Didn’t use her real name most of the time. It was hard to track you down. Once I found you I tried to call. You didn’t want to talk to me. At least that’s what your husband told me. So I wrote a year’s worth of letters. And at the end of that year, I got those—” Ben gestured to the folder Raven held.
She wanted to offer an explanation, to tell him the truth about her life with Jonas, but she wouldn’t. Her past was something she didn’t share. “I’m sorry Jonas lied to you.”
“Don’t apologize for your husband. Let him do that.”
“He died three years ago.”
“Now it’s my turn to say I’m sorry. I lost my wife over five years ago. I know how much it hurts.”
“Were you married long?”
“Two years. Not nearly long enough.” There was sadness in his eyes, but he smiled anyway. “At least I have some wonderful memories. How about you?”
“I have memories.”
He eyed her for a moment, his gaze intense. Then, as if sensing her reluctance to discuss her marriage, he stood and held out a hand to pull her to her feet. “You left your lemonade in the other room. Let’s go get it.”
The phone rang as they walked back into the living room, the answering machine greeting cutting in after the second ring. Then Raven heard, “Hey, Ben. It’s Ray. Mom and Dad said you were flying in tomorrow. Said I should pick you up. What time’s good?”
Mom? Dad? She ran the words through her mind as Ben reached for the phone.
“Hi, Ray. Listen, my sister’s here—Yeah. I can’t believe it, either. Can you tell Mom and Dad I can’t make it this year? I don’t know. Maybe. Listen. I’ll call you tonight and tell you more. Bye.”
He hung up the phone and smiled at Raven. “Sorry about that. My foster family has a reunion every year. Ray’s in charge of coordinating it this time.”
“It starts tomorrow?”
“Yes. Two weeks at Camp Remington. Fifty adults. Dozens of kids. Lots of food.”
“You’re not going to cancel because of me?”
“I’m going to cancel because I want to.”
“Ben, no.”
“I see my foster parents every few months, the rest of the family a couple of times a year. They won’t miss me.”
“Please don’t cancel. I just arrived, I’m still settling in. I’ve got unpacking to do. A job to find.”
“I can help you with all that.”
“I need to do this on my own. Go to your reunion. Enjoy yourself. When you come back, we’ll talk more.”
He was going to refuse, Raven could see it. A memory flashed through her mind. Ben, much younger, but just as determined, begging the grocer to give Raven a sandwich from the deli. He’d been tenacious. Unwilling to take no for an answer.
The boy lingered in the eyes of the man.
But time must have tempered Ben’s will. He nodded. “I can see you need some time. I’ll give it to you. But just the two weeks. Then we talk. And I want your phone number, so I can call. Otherwise I’ll think this was all a dream.”
Raven smiled at his words, some of her tension easing. “You’re still bossy.”
“And you’re still my little sister. Which gives me the right to boss you. Come on. Let’s go into town. There’s a great diner there. We’ll get some lunch and I’ll show you around.”
He flung his arm around Raven’s shoulder, the gesture so right, so natural, that for a moment she could almost believe they’d never been apart.
Chapter Three
By the time Raven returned to the cottage, daylight had given way to evening shadows. She stood on the front porch, her gaze drawn to the horizon, watching as the last rays of light disappeared. Her time with Ben had been easy and comfortable, their reunion much like she’d always hoped it would be. Still she wondered—at the family he was so much a part of, at the wife he’d loved and still missed.
His path through life had been much different from Raven’s. Not easier, but perhaps more filled with love. She didn’t envy Ben, she only wished she’d made better choices in her own life, and that she were as content and at peace as her brother.
Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, the sound breaking into Raven’s thoughts and jarring her mind away from regrets and disappointments. A good thing. Life was too short to waste time worrying about things that couldn’t be changed.
It was only later, as she lay wrapped in spring-scented sheets, that the questions she’d shoved to the back of her mind surfaced again. Was Ben really happy to have her in Lakeview? Or was she a bump in the smooth road of his life? His reaction had been open and loving, but still Raven couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d intruded on his well-ordered and contented existence. Perhaps leaving Lakeview before Ben returned from his family reunion was the best thing she could do for both of them.
She took a deep, calming breath. She’d spent so much time praying about this, so much time wondering if finding her brother was the right thing to do, she wouldn’t second-guess her decision, wouldn’t torture herself with the possibilities. Only God knew what the next few months would bring. All Raven could do was wait and see.
With a frustrated sigh, she pushed the sheets off and went into the living room. Her Bible lay on the coffee table and she picked it up, opening to the Psalms and losing herself in words of comfort, in promises of hope, until finally, her eyes closed and she drifted to sleep.
She was there again. In the room at the top of the stairs. Already decorating. Jonas said she was silly and frivolous. That twenty-three weeks was too soon to plan for the new life that grew inside her. She didn’t care. She was so happy. Finally, a baby! She’d begged, pleaded for so long to have this chance.
Something creaked outside the door. A loose floorboard that Raven knew meant he was awake. Her heart beat heavily. Would he be angry that she’d left the bed and come here to finger tiny baby booties? The door crashed open and a baby’s cry filled the air.
Raven started awake, biting off a scream before it took wing. Sweat beaded her brow and layered her skin, seeping into the cotton of her nightgown and making it cling uncomfortably. She needed to get up, to move. To run from the memories that haunted her dreams. The high-pitched wail of an infant followed her as she fled across the room and opened the bathroom door. She’d take a shower. Cool her skin, ease her tension and block out the sobs that echoed through the night.
She paused with her hand on the faucet. Sobs. Not wails. Loud, bitter, hopeless. Definitely not a baby, but someone…Not a dream, but reality.
Heart in her throat, Raven stepped out of the bathroom and strained to hear the sound again. There it was, faint but still audible. She hurried to the front door, hesitating with her hand on the knob. Was this a trick? Some bizarre scheme to get her to come outside? She grabbed the long-handled umbrella from the coat closet, swung it over her shoulder and pushed the door open.
The sobs were coming from the side of the house. Raven followed the sound, moving cautiously in the darkness. Bright stars speckled the moonless sky, pinpricks of light against the blackness. Someone crouched at the far edge of the house, a dark shadow beside the pale siding.
“Hello? Are you okay?”
No response came. Just the same long, bitter sobs.
“Are you hurt? Lost?”
The person straightened and lurched into Raven with enough force to knock her backward and onto the ground. The umbrella flew from her hand and she twisted, scrambling to find it, her heart thudding painfully, a scream catching in her throat.
“Thea. Thea.”
The name was familiar, the trembling voice one Raven recognized. “Abby?”
The soft cries continued.
“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” Raven spoke as she eased from Abby’s grasp, moving gently so as not to hurt her fragile neighbor.
“She’s dead. Dead. The blood. What have I done?”
Raven went cold at the words, her hands sliding along Abby’s arms, her face, then across the silky material of the blouse she wore. No blood. At least none Raven could feel or see in the dark. Relieved, she grabbed Abby’s hand and helped her to her feet. Then put an arm around her waist and led her toward the house. “Let’s go inside. Make sure you’re not hurt.”
“She’s dead. She’s dead.” The mantra continued as they walked into the living room, Abby’s quiet chant a chilling background to the too-fast beat of Raven’s heart.
“Who’s dead, Abby?”
But Abby was gone, her eyes unfocused, reality lost somewhere in the depths of the mind that was failing her. Raven checked her for injuries, found nothing but layers of dirt caked on her hands and streaked across her face. She’d worn shoes this time and they, too, were covered with grime.
“Where have you been, Abby? What have you been doing?” Raven asked the question as she brushed dirt from the woman’s cheek. She expected no answer.
“Making amends.” The words, whispered on a sigh, hung in the air.
Raven met Abby’s gaze. She was there again, in the moment, her dark eyes begging something from Raven.
“What do you need? How can I help you?”
But the moment was already gone, the shift as quick and unstoppable as a wave cresting over the shore. “Where am I? What’s happening?”
“You’re at the cottage.”
“I’m tired.”
“Then why don’t we get you back home. I’m sure Shane is wondering where you are.” At least Raven hoped he was. That Abby had wandered from home twice in less than twenty-four hours didn’t say much for the kind of care she was getting.
That bothered Raven. A lot.
She grabbed the phone and dialed the number she’d written down earlier. The phone rang several times before an answering machine picked up. Frustrated, Raven turned to Abby. “Do you live nearby, Abby?”
“Oh, yes. Just down the road a bit. I used to walk here all the time. Thea’s mother made the best cookies and never minded if Thea had friends over. She was a great mother. Very warm and sweet. It was so sad when she died.”
“Was she young?” Raven walked into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans.
“In her fifties, I think. Thea came home to care for her. It would have been better if she’d stayed away…” Abby’s voice faded to silence, and she didn’t speak again as Raven led her outside and into the car.
The long country road was unlit by streetlights. Raven drove carefully, searching for another driveway and finding it easily. “Is this it?”
“Yes. Born here. Grew up here. Raised a son here. And I’ll die here.”
“Not for a long time, I’m sure.”
“Life passes quickly. More quickly for some than for others.”
Raven glanced in Abby’s direction, but in the dark she could see little of the older woman’s expression.
A porch light glowed a welcome as Raven pulled up in front of a large house. “Ready?”
“I’m tired, dear. You go on inside.”
Raven didn’t bother arguing. If Abby felt as tired as she did, the prospect of walking up the porch steps would be daunting. “I’ll get Shane.”
There was no answer when she rang the doorbell, and she twisted the knob, hoping the door was unlocked. It wasn’t. She waited another minute and then went back to the car.
“Abby, do you know where Shane is?”
“Shane?” Abby turned at the name, her eyes wide and filled with pleasure. “Is he in town?”
“Yes. I thought he might be staying with you.”
“I don’t remember seeing him.”
“Do you have a key to the house?”
“A key? I’m sure I do.”
“Do you know where it is?” Raven’s teeth chattered on the words, the chilly night air seeping through her nightgown. She should have worn a jacket. Would have if she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get Abby home.
“I think I do, but I can’t remember.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure we can find a way into the house.”
“Good. I’m very tired.”
“Let’s go around back and see if there’s an open door.”
“I’ll stay here. You go.”
Not a bad suggestion, but Raven didn’t dare leave Abby alone. “I know you’re tired, Abby, but we have to do this together.”
“Why? Because I need a babysitter?” A sharp edge was there, almost hiding the fear.
“No, because I don’t know the house or the grounds. We can do a much quicker job together.”
“I’m too tired. You go.”
Raven bit back a sigh and rubbed her hand against the back of her neck. She’d faced this kind of situation before. That didn’t make it any easier. She’d ring the doorbell one more time. If that didn’t work she’d have no choice but to bring Abby back to the cottage.
As she took a step toward the house she saw a dark figure stroll around the corner.
“What’s going on? Who’s out here?”
Shane. Finally. “Raven Stevenson. I’m with your aunt.”
“What? Why…? Never mind.” He came toward them, his movements easy and fluid. “Aunt Abby, you’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I went for a walk. This kind young lady brought me home.”
“Let’s get you inside.”
Shane leaned past Raven, his shoulder brushing against her arm as he lifted his aunt from the car. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t need to be carried, young man. I’m not an invalid.”
“You’re a damsel in distress. Let me play gallant knight.”
“You always were silver-tongued.”
Shane laughed, the sound vibrating through the predawn air. “True.” He glanced at Raven as he stepped toward the house. “You coming in?”
She wanted to say no. Wanted to go back to her warm house and her comfortable bed and pretend she didn’t care about Abby Montgomery. She couldn’t do it. There were things that needed saying. Things that couldn’t wait.
“Yes.”
Shane didn’t go in the front door as Raven had expected, but went back around the side of the house, carrying Abby as if she were featherlight. Raven followed him across the backyard toward a large outbuilding, feeling uncomfortable in a way she hadn’t with other patients, in other homes. But then, Abby wasn’t a patient.
“My office is above the garage. I do most of my work there. Looks like that might have to change.” There was pain, regret and a tinge of frustration in his voice.
Raven had heard them all before, had watched others experience the same during the past three years. But she couldn’t allow her empathy to stop her from saying what needed to be said. Abby needed proper care. Without it she’d continue to wander off, and eventually she might not return.
An outside staircase led to the upper level of the garage. Raven followed Shane up and into a large room, her gaze caught and held by myriad prints lining one wall. Colorful, bold, striking. All scenes from some fantasy adventure.
“Scenes from my books.”
“What?” Raven turned to Shane.
He’d settled Abby on a long couch and covered her with a blanket, his hand lingering for just a moment on her cheek. “The prints. They’re scenes from the books I write.”
“You’re an author?”
“I write inspirational fantasy adventures for kids.” He stepped to the back of the room and gestured Raven over. “Abby’s asleep. Let’s go in the kitchen.”
“I’d rather not leave her alone.”
“And I’d rather not have her wake and hear us talking about her. Life is hard enough for her right now.” Shane stepped through the doorway before Raven could argue further.
She hesitated, then followed.
The tiny kitchen sported a sink, a microwave and a small refrigerator. There wasn’t room for much more, and barely space for two people to move comfortably. Raven didn’t move. Just stood in the doorway, eyeing the man whose presence seemed to fill the kitchen. Jonas had been like that—so vital that everything around him paled in comparison.
“She wasn’t alone, you know.”
Raven blinked, tried to focus on Shane’s words. “Alone?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting to accuse me of? Leaving my aunt alone. Letting her wander around by herself when she needs to be supervised every moment of the day.” His words weren’t angry, just tired.
Raven could understand that. In the last days of Jonas’s illness she’d been tired, too. But not for the same reasons. “I don’t want to accuse you of anything. I just want to make sure you understand what you’re dealing with.”
