Spring Raine

by Delia Latham

  And then he backed away, leaving her aching for more.

  She pulled in a deep, strengthening breath and turned around.

  He was already back in his chair.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Rainedrop.”

  Raine froze. Time stood absolutely still for what might have been a moment or an hour. Or a day.

  “Hey…what’s going on? You’re pale.”

  “I’m—” She struggled for breath and finally managed to capture enough air to speak. “I’m suddenly feeling ill. I’m sorry, Dec. I need to go back to the lodge now.”

  ****

  Since he’d left Raine at Paradise Pines the night before, he hadn’t heard from her, and Dec paced the house like a caged and barely controlled animal. An unexpected and unseasonal drizzle fell from a dark sky that only magnified his mood. He checked his phone for at least the hundredth time, making sure it was still charged.

  Why hadn’t she called?

  He’d wracked his brain all morning, trying to figure out what set her off. Everything had been going so well. He would have sworn she felt the same attraction to him that he was experiencing for her. She certainly had not felt ill when he fastened that necklace around her neck. And then…she just shut down.

  When they arrived back at the lodge, she’d whispered a barely audible “good night” and rushed up the stairs to her apartment as if she was being chased by invisible demons.

  He’d waited all morning for her to call, hesitant to bother her first. Maybe he was wrong. What if she really was ill, and maybe resting?

  Someone pounded on his door and he groaned. None but the most determined of salespeople ever found their way this far back in the woods, and he couldn’t think of a good reason for anyone else to be here. He ignored the persistent banging for a moment, then growled and strode to the door, ready to send packing whatever foolhardy solicitor dared interrupt his foray into full-time fretting.

  Raine stood on his front porch, soaked to the skin and trembling so hard her teeth chattered. She fastened a miserable green gaze on him. Her lips quivered and pain glazed her eyes.

  Without a word, he pulled her into his arms. An errant thought sent ice through his veins. “Is Miss Angie OK?”

  She nodded, but clung to him with a desperation that set his heart racing. The tremor extended down the length of her body. Holding her in silence, he swayed back and forth as if comforting a frantic child, until the violent shaking began to lose its tenacious hold. Then he swooped her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa. He settled her on his lap, pulled a warm throw around her, and held her tight against his chest until her breathing lost that painful-sounding hitch and her fingers relaxed their death grip around his own. Only then did he move her away, just enough to look into her face.

  The sheer, raw pain in her gaze nearly choked him.

  Help me, Lord. I’m treading shark-infested waters here. How do I help her? Please, lead me.

  What in the world could have happened to bring on such an episode? He ran the back of a hand down one damp cheek, and then cupped both hands around her face. “What is it, honey? Talk to me.”

  She tried twice to speak, clearly seeking a voice that couldn’t be found. Finally, however, she croaked out an answer—one that made no sense whatsoever. “I-I—” She closed her eyes and tried again. “I-I—”

  Dec touched a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Slow and easy. Take your time.”

  She nodded and sniffled.

  Dec blindly sought a nearby box of tissues and jerked a couple free. He slipped them into her hand, and she mopped at her face, and then blew her nose…quietly and with as much decorum as could be applied to such an act. Dec refused to smile, though his lips insisted on a twitch or two.

  Finally, she met his gaze, and more tears escaped. Her strangled voice ripped at his heart like sharp, painful talons. “My s-s-sister.”

  “Skye? The one you mentioned last night?”

  She nodded.

  Now Dec was really confused. He clearly remembered being told Skye died when Raine was seven. Why was it hitting her so hard now, all these years later?

  How can I help her when I’m so far from understanding what’s going on?

  “What about Skye, honey?”

  Her face crumpled, and she looked at him through eyes that held a whole world of pain. “It’s my fault, Dec. Her death…it was my fault!”

  ****

  Despite the sorrow clawing its way out of the deep, hidden place in her heart where she’d always kept it buried, Raine managed a tiny upward curl of her lips at Dec’s thoroughly confused expression. “I’m not making a lot of sense, am I?” She cringed at her rough, hoarse voice, and then sniffed.

  He promptly handed her another tissue. “Well…”

  A little giggle startled her.

  She sniffled and lifted her teary gaze.

  He made a weird, strangled noise and jumped up off the sofa, nearly dropping her in his hurry. Somehow he managed to settle her back onto the couch without mishap. “Tell you what. You take a minute, and I’ll go get us something to drink. What’s your pleasure, ma’am? Tea? Coffee? Water?”

  “Tea’s good.”

  Raine gave his sudden bolt from the room only momentary consideration. She needed time to compose herself. By the time he returned, she felt more capable of talking without a complete meltdown.

  He handed her a glass and eased in next to her, holding his own brimming tumbler. “Are you OK?”

  “I will be.” She managed half a smile. “I’m sorry to be such a crybaby.”

  “Hey.” He bent to place his glass on the coffee table and took both of her hands. “You needed a shoulder. Just so happens, I’ve got two of ’em.”

  Taking that as an invitation, she leaned against him and rested her head on just one of the broad shoulders he’d so gallantly offered. “Thanks.”

  “So…what’s going on? Ready to talk about it?”

  She nodded and, after a moment, was able to speak without falling apart, though her voice didn’t sound quite right, even in her own ears. “Skye was twelve when I came along.”

  “Your parents like to raise ’em one at a time, huh?”

  She smiled, despite the ache in her heart. “I was an accident. They really only meant to have one child—the most perfect offspring anyone ever had.” She sobered quickly as memories played havoc on her emotions. “They didn’t do a very good job of preparing Skye for a sibling.”

  Dec’s fingers worked themselves into her hair and began a series of gentle strokes.

  She determinedly ignored the delicious tingle that made her body hum like a fine instrument in the hands of a maestro.

  “Why would you think—?”

  “Because that’s what they said after she died.”

  “Oh.” His fingers paused for a moment, and then resumed their journey through the length of her tresses. “May I ask…um, what happened? To Skye?”

  She swallowed hard. “She left home the day she turned eighteen. I don’t remember a whole lot—I was just six. But I do remember there’d been lots of raised voices and tension in the house for a long time. My sister didn’t want to be their golden girl. She didn’t want to follow ‘The Plan.’” She made quotes in the air with her fingers.

  A low chuckle vibrated against her cheek, which still nestled on his shoulder.

  “The Plan again—and always with the finger quotes. Sounds very dramatic. What does it mean?”

  “Just that. My parents lined out a plan for Skye’s life, long before she was born. She would ace every subject in school and be a paragon of virtue and success. She’d attend university, once again excelling in every class, and move right into a dynamic, highly profitable career. She might someday marry—if she found she could fit a husband into her tight schedule and upscale lifestyle—and have a perfect child and a perfect home in her perfect world.”

  “Wow!” Dec’s fingers released her hair and started making trails up
and down her arm. “Sounds like they forgot to schedule in time for the poor girl to be a kid.”

  How could he have pinpointed the problem so quickly?

  “Yes, I’m afraid they did. And she rebelled. She didn’t want to be any of the things they were determined she would be.” She gazed off into the distance, remembering the beautiful, fast-burning star that her sister had been. “Skye just wanted to live…to take each day as it came, no regrets for yesterday and no expectations of tomorrow.” She hauled in a deep breath that hitched painfully into her lungs. “What she really wanted was to be an actress…but of course Mom and Dad absolutely forbade any efforts in that direction.”

  Dec grimaced. “Well, in your parents’ defense, anything in the entertainment industry can be pretty iffy as an occupation. And unfortunately, life does require a bit of planning, unless one wishes to live in a gutter.”

  Something in his voice made Raine want to look into his face…but she didn’t. She was far too comfortable leaning against him, feeling the vibrations of his voice against her cheek and the warmth of his hand on an electric trail down the length of her arm.

  “You’re right of course. But still, my sister felt manipulated. She often begged them to ‘give her a break,’ to let her have a little fun with her friends.” She paused, and then emitted a wry chuckle that sounded anything but humorous. “I don’t even know if she had any real friends. I never—I mean, she never had time to make any lasting relationships. Mom and Dad kept her pretty busy reaching for the academic stars.”

  “So what happened then?”

  “She left. Just threw some things in a backpack and walked out. She was eighteen, and my parents couldn’t legally do a thing about it, although they tried everything they could think of.”

  Neither of them spoke for a moment.

  Raine gathered her courage and plowed ahead. “She went straight to Hollywood. When nobody snapped her up and made her an overnight success as she’d expected, she got involved in drugs and—well…other things too. She hadn’t been gone quite a full year when we got the call.” She stopped, hoping to finish without crying. She’d done enough of that for one day.

  “You good?” Dec’s deep voice somehow poured courage into her heart.

  No, but if she allowed the tears to start again, she’d never get this story told. Rather than trying to assure him, she pressed on.

  “She was found by the landlord of the rented room where she stayed. I never saw it, of course, but I heard my parents say the place was barely fit to live in.” She pulled in a breath that was meant to be strengthening. It didn’t work, so she tucked in closer to Dec’s side. “She’d been strangled and—well…r-roughed up.” Her voice dropped to a brittle whisper. “Then they just…left her there. Like garbage.”

  “Oh, Raine. Honey, I’m so sorry!”

  His sincerity and gentleness were her undoing.

  Raine fell apart, sobs once more ripping past her throat.

  Dec pulled her into his arms. He tucked her head under his chin and breathed quiet, soothing sounds. “Go ahead…let it all out.”

  She did, for a long time. And it felt good. She’d never been allowed to really weep out her sorrow for her sister.

  When her tears calmed a little, Dec spoke. His quiet voice moved on her senses like a soothing balm. “Why would you say she died because of you, Raine? You couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with that.”

  “But I did!” She grasped his shirt in both hands and looked up, finally meeting his sympathetic gaze. “I heard Mom and Dad talking, more than once. They said Skye wasn’t ready to share her world with a sibling. They said—” Her lungs burned, but she forced herself to say it. “They said if they’d never had a second child, Skye would still—still—”

  “No.” Dec groaned and pulled her closer, anger simmering in his soul. “No, honey.”

  But she couldn’t stop. She had to say it. “She’d still be alive. Dec, my sister is dead because of me!”

  16

  Raine still floundered in an emotional tidepool.

  In many ways, this trip seemed so surreal. Starting with the lone butterfly that greeted her the night she’d arrived, and then Shay’s innocent comment about sisters when they’d first met. That was followed by the butterfly kiss she’d received in Miss Angie’s prayer clearing. Then came the day in Pismo when she and Dec had become a butterfly tree, and the one monarch that seemed unwilling to leave. After that, Shay bought her the butterfly fan pull and delivered a cryptic message about it being time to fly. It had stirred memories she didn’t even know she had.

  Then last night, after presenting her with yet another butterfly, Dec called her Rainedrop.

  That innocent endearment brought on an overwhelming onslaught of panic that she didn’t understand and pulled her into a dark hole of emotion. When Dec dropped her off at the lodge, she’d fallen into bed in the clothes she had on and squeezed her eyes shut tight, willing sleep to find her…but it hadn’t.

  The entire night, she tossed and turned, inundated with long-forgotten memories. Moments with her sister, the little-girl adoration she’d held for her…the sorrow when she’d learned Skye would never come home again. And yet holes still existed in her memory. How she knew that, she wasn’t sure. But it was true.

  She’d delivered Shay to her house this morning, then dropped Tara and Miss Angie off at the shelter, where they were putting together a list of absolutely essential items. Things without which they could not open the doors.

  Raine made a flimsy excuse that hadn’t fooled anyone and drove back to the lodge, where she sat on her balcony with the Bible in her lap, seeking some measure of peace. But today the familiar routine didn’t work. Exhausted mentally and emotionally, the tears began to fall. Once started, she found it impossible to dam the flood.

  She had given up and taken off on the footpath for Dec’s place. Thank God she’d found him home. Just resting in his arms, knowing he was there for her, soothed the pain and gave her strength.

  Noon came and went before she felt strong enough to leave Dec. She was supposed to rejoin Tara and Miss Angie at Chrysalis, but her sleepless night was catching up with her.

  Dec walked her all the way to her door, where he kissed her gently and whispered assurances into her ear. “I’m here if you need me. Anytime, honey. I’m never too busy for you.”

  “Thank you.” She breathed the words into his neck and tightened her hold around his waist. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been home.”

  “I’m glad I was.” He dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Are you sure you’ll be all right now?”

  “I think so. Yes. I’ll be OK.”

  “Well, it was my pleasure to hold you while you cried.” He spoke against her ear. “I’ll be happy to take on that job any time.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her once again—gently, sweetly, and briefly. Then he was gone, disappearing into the woods.

  She went inside, closed the door, and leaned against it. A wave of weakness flooded over her, and she slid to the floor and curled into a ball while new tears ran in streaks down her face.

  Time passed.

  Raine had no idea whether it had been moments or hours before she dragged herself up and across the floor, dropping garments all the way to her bed. She shouldn’t lie down with the others waiting for her to join them, but her body demanded a reprieve.

  Stretched out beneath the covers, she stared at the fan pull above her head. The butterfly sent a prismatic display of colors over the walls and ceiling. Her fingers closed around the pendant Dec had fastened around her neck the night before, and her eyelids grew heavy…

  Through a light mist, something moved toward her. Raine’s heart pounded with painful, punishing pressure. Inexplicable anticipation filled her soul, but anticipation of what? Soon she made out the form of a large butterfly. She’d thought they all looked alike, but this creature was unlike any she’d ever seen. It emitted a strange, ethereal glow,
and Raine was unable to remove her gaze from the fluttering shape.

  The butterfly flitted close and brushed against her cheek in a gentle kiss of delicate wings. In the next instant, it fluttered to the ground, where it landed on a blade of grass…and became a beautiful young woman.

  Raine knew her. She wanted to shout out a welcome, but couldn’t find her voice.

  Dressed all in white, with golden-blonde hair flowing down her back like a glorious fall of sunshine, Skye appeared almost angelic. She glided gracefully across the distance between them, her feet never quite touching the ground. “My sweet little sister.”

  Raine had all but forgotten that voice, and yet now, after all these years, it was as familiar as her own. It flowed over her senses in a soft caress.

  A long, tapered finger touched her cheek, leaving a soothing warmth behind. “I’ve missed you, Raineshine.”

  Raine gasped. She’d forgotten about the nickname used only by Skye. Raineshine. That one was her sister’s favorite, although she’d used at least a half-dozen others, all plays on Raine’s real name.

  How could this be happening? Skye was…was…

  “Dead.” Her sister’s smile somehow held worlds of both sadness and joy. “I still am. You’re dreaming.”

  “But…I don’t want you to be dead.”

  A burst of low, sweet laughter gurgled like a dancing brook from between Skye’s full lips. “Well, it isn’t exactly what I had hoped for either, little Rainecloud. But I had made peace with God, so I’m OK. And now”—She placed a hand over Raine’s heart—“He wants you to find peace too.”

  Raine blinked, but tears still poured down her face. “But you died because of m-m—” She couldn’t say it.

  Skye’s voice took on a steel edge. “Now, you listen up, Rainedance. I did not die because of you. That’s a lie Satan uses to keep you from being at peace. Everything that happened to me happened because I was stubborn and willful, and I made very bad decisions.” She took Raine’s face between her hands, and bright emerald eyes fixed on Raine’s matching ones. “But I did not make those decisions because you were born, Rainebow. I loved you…oh, so very much, little sister! From the day I first saw you…tiny and sweet, wrapped in a soft pink blanket…how I adored you! I stuck around as long as I did only because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you behind.”