Best Left Buried by Gabi Gabi

Author:Gabi Gabi [Gabi, Gabi]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The snow that had been in yesterday’s forecast still hadn’t materialized the morning after my visit with Grant. At breakfast, I told Mom my plan to drive out to Granny Grace’s acres and look around.

“I’ll come with you, Darcy,” she said.

“No, please don’t. I’m going to walk a lot and maybe climb over a few fences and up a few hills. It would be rough going for you, Mom.”

“I worry that something may happen to you. I guess a mother never gets over worrying about her children, especially a child who is as danger prone as you, my dear daughter.”

I grinned and ruffled her curls. “I’ll be fine, Mom, I promise. I believe the Lord is watching over both of us.”

“Yes, I’m sure He is but I’m going to say an extra prayer for you this morning,” Mom called as I went upstairs. “Couldn’t hurt anything.”

I pulled on a pair of my most comfortable blue jeans, a yellow sweatshirt topped with a button-down-the-front green and yellow plaid flannel shirt, and stepped into my brown hiking boots. That, and a denim jacket would do fine for this day. Although the temperature was forecast to be in the low 40s, the sun was shining and there was little wind. I pulled my dark hair into a pony tail and noted a new gray hair. Time was surely marching on, and I was starting to feel the wear and tear of all this intrigue. Maybe Grant was right. Maybe I was a magnet for mysteries. And Mom was right too…if the happenings had been accidental.

I drew a line of rose-tinted lip gloss across my mouth, moved Jethro off my bed, and decided I was ready for a trip into the country.

Mom had a bulging brown paper lunch sack waiting for me downstairs. “Here’s a sandwich and a piece of pie, Darcy, just in case you don’t get back by noon.”

I shook my head. As she said, mothering must be a lifelong process. Amy had said the same thing. “Thanks. Stay close today and be watchful,” I said over my shoulder as I opened the front door.

Mom snorted. “Ha! Look who’s talking.”

Sunlight shone through the windshield of my Escape. Dressed as I was, I didn’t need the car’s heater. The road to Granny Grace’s acres led through some of the prettiest country in Ventris County. In every season but winter, it was striking with the tree-covered hillsides and the glimpses of the river in the distance. In winter, it was not as beautiful but certainly spectacular enough. Gray rocky bluffs shone through pines and the dark limbs of deciduous trees. Cardinals and blue jays flashed across the road, and high in the cloudless sky, a hawk circled.

Is it possible that when we leave this earth, some of our emotions are left behind in places that are particularly dear? Granny loved her home here in the hills with Grandpa George, and when I returned to these hills, I felt a bit of the contentment and sheer joy that she must have felt.

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