Diana McRae - Deerhaven Pines by Diana McRae

Author:Diana McRae
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781594932885
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2012-04-17T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

“Help! Help! The Devil!”

Horrible shrieks from the back room brought Lesley to her feet, and she sprinted across the living room, bursting through the bedroom door in time to see Rachel flailing against the bedclothes. Their refuge in the meadow cottage seemed to have brought Rachel no peace.

Soft lazy snowflakes drifted past the bedroom window and the afternoon light washed the cozy room in a tranquil gray light. She looked around for the devil but, to Lesley’s relief, no fire-engine-colored lord of the underworld lurked within sight. Hurrying to the bed, Lesley sat down beside Rachel. From long experience with dreamers plagued by demons, she bent and took Rachel in her arms.

“The Devil,” moaned Rachel.

Did the same incubus who tormented Lesley’s husband in his nightmares pursue his sister too? The Windsors seemed to harbor family fiends who hounded their dreams by night.

“There is no devil here,” Lesley crooned to Rachel. “Look around this house. You can sense goodness and mercy encircling us as surely as the walls and roof.”

“You’re right,” returned Rachel. “I’m probably safer here than I have been for years.”

Lesley let Rachel return to rest upon her pillow. She patted Rachel’s long, soft, white fingers.

“We’ve escaped every danger so far,” said Lesley. Looking at Rachel’s face, filled with mild trust and faith, Lesley ventured saying, “and I’m beginning to believe that forces of good exist and that they’re on our side The spirits of your mother and of the women who built this house want us to triumph over our enemies. I know they do.”

Rachel’s wide expressive mouth turned down at each corner. “My mother confined me in her attic from the age of fourteen on. Dead or alive, I don’t want her help.”

Lesley considered Rachel’s accusation. “I think Cosette got caught up in something she didn’t understand,” Lesley responded. “She regrets what she did. She wants the best for you. I think she’d do anything to make amends with you. Can you forgive her?”

“No,” stated Rachel flatly. “Some things are unforgivable.”

“Maybe,” acknowledged Lesley, “but people aren’t. Sometimes people change so radically, they deserve to be forgiven their past transgressions.”

“People who intentionally inflict terrible harm and suffering? You’re wrong, Lesley. My mother—I find her unforgivable.”

“Nothing can excuse what she did to you,” said Lesley, “but will you allow that she might have been misled and mistaken?”

“Why would you want me to forgive the woman who imprisoned and reviled me?” countered Rachel, eyes black. “You didn’t know her. I did.”

“My impression of her is different than yours,” Lesley acknowledged. “Could she have changed by the end of her life? Maybe she would have tried to atone for what she did, if she’d lived longer.”

Rachel looked full into Lesley’s eyes for the first time. Her Windsor eyes went from black to gray. She took a deep, sad breath. “For you, I’ll try to remember my mother in a charitable light,” she vowed in a shaky but decided tone. “I would like to leave bitterness behind even though I don’t know how.

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