Last night while sitting around the bonfire, I saw Mother strugging with Regan’s death and it struck a chord in me.
She felt the loss the same way I did. And she reacted the same way as I did when seeing Mar and Charly getting along so well.
The two girls were fast becoming friends and although it comforted me, I stll felt strangely uneasy and shared the same apprehension my mom experienced.
Something was not quite right but neither of us were quite sure why we felt that way.
Still, it seemed a foolish and groundless fear so I resolved to pass it off as an adjustment to my new life wihout Reagan and to get on with my usual routines.
The following day Nate Brinker and a few of the neighbors wanted to go horseback riding. I invited Mar to come along, but was surprised to find she already made plans.
“Charly invited me to come over to her place for coffee. She suggested we could go for a hike and she’d show me the old ruins.”
The ruins were a local mystery—nobody was quite sure what they were or how old they were. It would be an adventure for Mar, but I still felt bad abandoning her on only her second day here.
“Don’t be worried, Jess—go horseback riding with your friends—Charly and I have a lot to catch up.”
My ears perked up. “Catch up—about what?”
“About you, Silly. Charly’s going to share all the local tidbits and gossip, and you can bet I’ll be badgering her for juicy info on you.”
“Maybe, I should stay after all,” I laughed.
“No way, Jose—I wouldn’t pass up this chance for the world.”
She grabbed the lapels of my wool coat and pulled me close to her, pressing her soft lips against mine. I lost my breath and went tingly. When I regained my composure I hissed in her ear, “If I let you go, will there be more of that later when I get back?”
Her eyes danced. “That all depends on what secrets Charly reveals. I hope there was no history between the two of you.”
“What—me and Charly? You’ve got to be kidding. She’s the girl next door—not a femme fatale.”
“Who knows what secrets will be divulged,” she smiled seductively, “and whether our Lothario is a shining knight or a shameless rake.”
“Neither,” I quipped, “which is good for your sake.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” she countered, breezing out of the room, leaving me longing for more of those soft warm kisses.
But when I got back from riding it was past five and there was no sign of Mar.
I decided to ride over to Charly’s and check on the two of them. Her uncle answered the door.
“They’ve been gone for two hours, Jess—I was kinda worried looking at that sky. I think a storm’s brewing.”
“Did they go to the ruins?”
“As far as I know, but they should have been back by now.”
“I’ll go hunt them down, Mr. Crawford—sort of like rounding up strays. Don’t you worry, now.”
Yet, as I rode out of the farmyard, I wasn’t as hopeful as I pretended —in fact, I was worried because dusk was falling quickly helped in part by storm clouds overhead.
It was a very familiar feeling that swept over me—the same mixture of fear and dread I felt when Regan went missing.
I picked up the pace and hurried on to the ruins praying my anxiety and fear were groundlesss, that Mar and Charly were safe, but my instincts again told me something was wrong and I couldn’t quell the turmoil building inside me.
It was eerie as if something or someone was trying to mentally telgraph me a message—Danger ahead!
