Morning's Refrain by Tracie Peterson

Author:Tracie Peterson [Peterson, Tracie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I must say this is short notice,” Jeannette said, eyeing Evie and Dalton.

Dalton thought she looked like a nervous hen as she moved around the sitting room. Her lavender day dress seemed much too snug, adding to her awkward appearance.

“I’m sorry, but we leave in less than three hours,” Evie told Jeannette. “That’s why I called you last night.”

“Still, it was a very brief warning.”

“I didn’t know that you needed me to warn you of our arrival. We aren’t here on a hostile mission,” Evie replied, pulling off her gloves.

“Why are you here?” Jeannette asked. “You said very little last night.”

“Dalton wanted to see the home where his mother and father shared their life together.”

“To what purpose?” She sounded suspicious.

Dalton smiled. “Just the satisfaction of connecting to the past.”

Jeannette’s expression was one of annoyance. She looked back to Evie. “I suppose if you must. I’ll take you on a tour of the place and then we can have tea.”

“If you don’t mind, Jeannette, I’d rather take Dalton around on my own. We can stay out of any room you’d rather us not see.”

Jeannette looked offended, and Evie quickly added, “After that, we should have time to share tea with you.”

“I . . . well . . . it’s most unusual,” Jeannette declared.

“We can leave if you’d prefer,” Dalton told her.

“No!” Jeannette replied quickly. “I put all of my other plans aside for this morning. You might as well stay.”

Jeannette seemed very lonely to him, and Dalton couldn’t help but wonder if she really had had any other plans. She clearly didn’t want their company, but she desperately needed someone.

“Go ahead and see the house. All of the rooms are open,”

Jeannette said. “I will arrange for our refreshments.” She waited for Evie to nod before hurrying out of the room.

Dalton glanced around at the opulent room. The furnishings were a bit worn, but in every corner and flat surface there were a wide variety of knickknacks. He knew little about art or collectibles, but he figured their worth to be quite great.

“Are these things left over from your childhood?” he asked Evie.

“No. Jeannette has her own style and taste. Our mother liked things elegant, but not too overstated. I think the portrait is the only thing I recognize as hers,” Evie said, studying the painting that still hung over the fireplace.

“I thought that was you,” Dalton said in surprise. He looked again at the picture. “I noticed it when we came in. The resemblance is uncanny.”

Evie was momentarily lost in thought. Dalton could see that the portrait had some strange affect on her. He said nothing more, waiting for her to begin the conversation when she was ready.

Evie clearly had adored her mother. The memories she’d shared proved as much. Then added to this depth of feeling was the fact that Evie had seen her father—their father—kill her mother.

“And years later his son tried to kill mine,” he murmured.

Evie turned as if suddenly aware of him. “What?”

“I was just thinking about how our father killed her.

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