Allegra's Shadow

by Dana Sanders Hill

  Then Allegra vanished.

  #

  A pain-filled moan escaped Mariah as she opened one eye, then the other. The scent of cedar tickled her nose. “Allegra…” she whispered.

  “Mariah. Mariah, come on. Wake up.” Warm, strong fingers caressed her cheeks and forehead. Her brows furrowed as she tried to follow that voice into wakefulness. Mariah saw a blurred image above her and blinked hard several times, trying to clear her vision. She attempted to sit up, but a heavy, gentle hand against her breastbone prevented it.

  “Careful.”

  She scowled. “Anthony. Wh–what –?”

  “Ms. D called me from her cell, panicking. She said she was talking to you on the phone. She heard you scream and then you disappeared, but the line was still open.” He waited, raising his head and tilting it to the side. “Sirens. I think she called the cops.”

  The lines of Mariah’s brows dipped. Sirens? She didn’t hear anything.

  “Do you remember anything?”

  “I fell…” She laid the palm of her hand against her cheek, and her eyes drifted shut.

  “Stay with me, Mariah,” Anthony urged, his voice carrying a unique force that Mariah felt compelled to obey. He cupped her chin in his palm. “You’ll be alright.”

  The sirens were louder now, almost on top of them…

  #

  Fury hopped over the back fence. Some neighborhood dogs barked, but not just because of Fury. They barked at the approaching sirens, too. That was a good thing.

  The sound covered Fury’s escape.

  Livid eyes turned back to the house. If that woman got in the way again, being unconscious wouldn’t save her.

  Fury ducked under a low-hanging branch and melted into the darkness…

  #

  After a short discussion with the police, Anthony settled Mariah into his SUV and drove her to the emergency room. Rex Hospital, located on Lake Boone Trail, was two exits away on I-440. Traffic was light this evening, and the ER had a few people in it. Since Mariah had a head injury, she didn’t have to wait to see a doctor. Anthony called Della while he sat in the waiting room.

  Profound concern flavored the elderly woman’s voice. “Is my baby okay?”

  “She hurt her ankle and wrist and has a nasty knot on her head, but her eyes looked clear and she pretty much walked on her own. She might have a concussion. They’ll probably keep her overnight for observation. It’s standard procedure with head injuries. It’s a good thing you called when you did.”

  He heard her take a deep steadying breath. “Amen. Thank God ya live nearby. Well, if ya think she’s fine, then I’ll take ya word for it. I’ll just have to keep this from her mama. There’s no need upsettin’ her anymore.”

  After he spoke to Della, Anthony’s mind touched on Mariah. He’d heard about Mariah from Kevin and Ms. D for years. Allegra talked about her on occasion, too — and even less about their father. Whenever Della mentioned her youngest grandchild, love and pride colored her voice, except when Mariah married Terry.

  He’d never felt a sudden, overwhelming attraction for a woman that went beyond the physical. Anthony detected a quiet strength and dignity in Mariah. She knew who she was and appeared to accept it. But there was also a wall of reserve, as though she’d been let down too many times or expected to be found lacking.

  A feminine voice interrupted his musings. “Mr. Caine.”

  He looked up at the nurse and straightened his long frame from the chair. “Is she alright?”

  “Yes. Ms. St. Cloud is asking for you.”

  #

  In his downtown Raleigh hi-rise, Thomas sat in the dim living room. In one hand was a glass of wine, in the other, two pictures of him and Allegra. Thomas stared at them, focusing on Allegra. Uncommonly beautiful with a tall, toned hourglass figure, a perfectly oval face, thick, shoulder-length black hair, and bold jet-black eyes, Allegra was vibrant and alluring, making her the charmer, the “star” wherever she went, even within her own family.

  No woman could ever compare to her.

  Humiliation and anger fueled his blood. He’d asked Allegra to marry him while they were in bed. She turned him down; said marriage wasn’t part of her life plan…

  Allegra rose up on one elbow, the sheet dipping to expose one high, round breast. “I’ve known you a long time, Thomas. I’ve been with you when other women have called you, crying, because you’re not in love with them. We’ve laughed about it.” A long, manicured nail circled his dark nipple. “We enjoy each other, immensely. We excite each other. That fades when marriage comes along.” Allegra arched a well-shaped brow. “Do you really want to give all that up? For a piece of paper?”

  Thomas’s lips flattened as he stared up at the ceiling, his hands behind his head.

  “Freedom. That’s what we’re all about.”

  She wanted freedom.

  Freedom to screw around.

  That’s why he lied to Della and everyone else. No woman ever refused him before.

  Embarrassment and loathing roiled in his gut.

  Balling up the pictures in his fist, he hurled them across the room, straight into the hearth. Then he started a fire; the yellow, orange and red flames mirrored in his eyes, as he watched the pictures curl and blacken until they were no more than ashes.

  Who did she think she was? Nobody dumped Thomas Payne like yesterday’s garbage.

  #

  Concerned about her grandmother, Mariah asked, “Did you call Gran D?”

  Anthony nodded once. “You’re lucky it’s only a mild concussion, a sprained wrist and a sprained ankle.” He braced his hands on his jean-clad hips, causing his sand-colored Jersey crew neck shirt to stretch across his well-built chest.

  Allegra said I had a mild concussion. Mariah sighed, trying to sift through what she had just experienced. The nurse put her in a private room and she was grateful. Using her left hand, she pulled the hospital sheet up to her shoulders to ward off the chill. Hospitals always felt colder to her than other places. Her purse rested on her lap and two ice compresses, wrapped in a thin towel, were applied to her other wrist and right ankle. The nurse would remove it in twenty minutes.

  “They’re keeping me overnight,” she said, keeping her eyes on his chest. That seemed the safest place to look since he stood next to the bed, practically on top of her. Her heart fluttered in her breast at his nearness and she cleared her throat, pretending to be unaffected.

  “I told Ms. D they probably would.”

  Mariah raised her eyes to find him scanning the room, and then looking through the small rectangle glass of the closed door with those ocher eyes before returning them to her face with razor-sharp interest. Specifically, her mouth.

  Against her will, excitement rippled through Mariah, and what little composure she owned fell under attack. Then her mother’s words echoed in her head. “You can be scared,” Anna said to Mariah when she caught the eye of a first-grade class bully, “you just don’t let her know it, and if she puts her hands on you, you’d better turn her every which way but loose.” A stern light sparked in her eyes. “Or your behind is mine.”

  In the end, the girl had a busted lip and a bruised eye, and she never bothered Mariah again. From then on, she wasn’t only known as “Allegra’s weird-eyed sister”, but the quiet girl who’d let you know you’d been in a fight if you pushed hard enough.

  It wasn’t a class bully who wreaked havoc with her senses, but a man with a voice of an avenging angel.

  Pursing her lips, Mariah channeled her mother’s long-ago advice and stared back at him.

  #

  No hunger flickered in Mariah’s dual-colored eyes, but Anthony’s breathing was harsh and uneven anyway, when she puckered those lush, upside-down lips.

  Mentally clawing for stable footing, he controlled his breathing and counted to ten. Anthony was used to female admiration and developed a bland acceptance toward compliments and stares. He never confirmed or denied his outstanding good looks, or used them as
a weapon against women. That’s what Grandma Lilly had taught him.

  He wanted Mariah’s admiration. Anthony felt that their attraction was mutual, even if she refused to show it.

  But now wasn’t the time to push it. He would wait until Mariah felt better. “Anything coming back to you? About the accident?”

  Anthony watched Mariah look away and squint her eyes. He could tell that she was trying to remember. When she brought her pinky finger up to her lips and gently nibbled on her nail, Anthony felt himself growing hard. He counted to ten again.

  “I was talking to Gran D,” Mariah answered around her finger. “I remember heading down to the kitchen and…”

  “What?” he asked.

  “I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Everything went black after that.”

  “This ‘something’ you think you saw…”

  Mariah shook her head. “Probably my eyes playing tricks on me. Hasn’t that ever happened to you?”

  Anthony nodded. “When you woke up, you called for Allegra.”

  Mariah stopped nibbling on her pinky nail, her hand frozen in the air, and the heavy lashes that shadowed her cheeks flew up. “What?” Her hand lowered to the bed. She paused for a moment, giving Anthony a pointed look. “How’d you get in?” she demanded, changing the subject.

  Anthony’s jaw clenched. “Ms. D sent me to get copies of the keys yesterday. Kevin has one, too. We were her Plan B and C.”

  “What time?”

  “What?”

  Irritation danced across her face. “What time,” she inquired, “did she send you to make the copies?

  “Around two.” Pale eyes constricted. “Problem?” There was a hint of a dare in that raspy voice.

  “No. I just wished she had told me.”

  Anthony ignored that because she was a bad liar. “Do you remember anything else?”

  Mariah lids dipped. Her fingers twisted in the hospital sheet. Then her eyes moved upward to meet his and she answered, “No.”

  Anthony crossed his arms over his chest, stretching the fabric across his shoulders and biceps. “Okay. Maybe…you smelled something? An unfamiliar scent?”

  “No,” Mariah replied after a few moments.

  Anthony’s fingers reached up to stroke his chin. He blinked and dropped his hands, then opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He turned his head toward the door, and a few seconds later, a stocky male nurse – the same one who applied Mariah’s compresses – knocked and stepped inside.

  “Mariah, you’ll be admitted shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  The nurse nodded and left.

  Anthony’s right hand dug into the right front pocket of his jeans, pulled out a blue leather wallet and withdrew a small, folded piece of white paper. He reached into his back left pocket, retrieved a pen and started writing. “Here are my home and cell numbers and my address.” He handed it to her.

  Mariah took the paper. “I –”

  “Call me when you’re ready to be discharged.” He watched for a sign of objection.

  She didn’t disappoint him.

  “I can call Kevin.”

  “It’s no problem. Besides, I’m closer to you, and Ms. D can’t reach Kevin. He didn’t answer his home phone and she couldn’t get through on his cell.”

  “Did she call you before or after Kevin?”

  Anthony frowned. “Before.” He didn’t see what that had to do with anything.

  “Maybe if I try Kevin…would you pass me the phone, please?” She pointed to the phone on the table next to the bed.

  She was determined to refuse his help.

  Anthony gritted his teeth and reached for the phone. He didn’t care for Mariah’s stubbornness right now, but he dialed Kevin’s home number first and handed her the receiver.

  The voicemail answered.

  She was disappointed, but left a brief message and hung up. “Would you dial his cell, please?”

  He did, managing to keep from stabbing the buttons in exasperation.

  Mariah put the phone to her ear, only to hear a message stating the phone could not accept her call.

  “I guess there’s no signal wherever he is.”

  She passed the receiver back to Anthony and he hung it up.

  “Looks like I’m all you’ve got,” he said in a voice as deadpan as the expression on his face.

  Mariah exhaled, and the last traces of resistance vanished. “Looks like.”

  Anthony nodded, not trusting himself to speak, turned away.

  #

  He had to go, Mariah declared to herself, for two reasons. Reason Number One: he freaked her out when he said that she had called out Allegra’s name. Mariah believed in the afterlife, but she would not discuss her vision of Allegra with him, as odd and disturbing as it was. She was the “questioner”, the “investigator” and she had to find the truth. What did Allegra mean?

  Mariah kept her features composed as she watched Anthony open the door. He had to go, she repeated. Reason Number Two: She found herself conscious of his virile appeal. It would behoove her not to become attached to him, because danger and attraction didn’t equal long-time love and commitment, which didn’t exist for her anyway. Even in her concussed state, Mariah knew the fantasy would be perilous, but she couldn’t control her swift and violent reaction to him. It didn’t help that Gran D had given him a spare key to Allegra’s house.

  “Kevin” she whispered. “Where are you? I don’t want him to take me home. Please call me back.”

  #

  Anthony hadn’t closed the door when he heard Mariah say she didn’t want him to take her home. He froze, his eyes became glittering slits and his mouth thinned. The fact that Mariah found his presence intolerable gnawed at him like a hungry rat.

  Forcing himself to move, he shut the door behind him and strode from the ER, ignoring how the nurses, both male and female, stared after him.

  #

  “Gran D, I’m fine.” Mariah’s room had two beds, but she was the only one admitted that night, so she took the one closest to the bathroom. She felt a little nauseous, a usual side effect of concussions. Other than her strained wrist and ankle, which the nurse wrapped with bandages, some bruises and a sore spot on her head, she could do worse. “You didn’t tell Mom, did you?”

  “Ya think I’m crazy? No.” She hesitated. “Ya need to stay with me for a few days.”

  Mariah thought of Grace, a red maple tree of indeterminate age−about sixty feet tall and ten feet in circumference−that towered over Gran D’s house from its position in the backyard, its leaves fanning out toward the sky.

  She recalled her moments with Grace, the numerous times she sat under the tree’s shadow, her back against the trunk as she sought respite from the North Carolina sun, or Allegra’s teasing, and the wooden swing – taken down years ago — that Gran D made for the tree, and how with each push, Gran D sent her soaring higher. Mariah once asked Gran D why she named the tree Grace. “She’s an old girl,” Gran D explained, “but she’s aged gracefully.”

  “Did ya hear what I said, Mariah? Ya need to come stay with me.”

  Mariah blinked, gathering her thoughts. “Yes, I heard you, and thank you for the offer, but no. Even though your place is more welcoming than Allegra’s, and I’m tempted to let you take care of me…no.”

  “Ya always were stubborn, not in a bold way, but quiet-like.” Gran D sighed. “Well, thank God Anthony’s nearby.”

  “Yes,” Mariah murmured, “thank God.”

  The doctor evaluated Mariah the next morning, prescribing rest, ice, compression, and elevation for her strains over the next few days, and gave her after-care instructions before discharging her.

  Mariah’s mind kept returning to last night, trying to remember what happened, trying to understand the meaning behind Allegra’s words, trying to get Anthony out of her head.

  A knock at the door interrupted her ruminations.

  “Come in.”

 
Her stomach quivered when the door opened and Anthony entered, wearing navy blue cargo pants and an indigo pocket tee.

  “I figured you’d need these.” Anthony held up a plastic bag in his right hand and wore a guarded expression.

  Mariah glanced at the bag.

  “A change of clothes, a comb, a toothbrush, and toothpaste,” he expounded as he approached.

  “Oh,” Mariah breathed, comprehension dawning. She tossed the hospital blanket aside with her left wrist, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and clutched the back of the hospital gown with her right hand to make sure it didn’t gape. The last thing she wanted him to see was her underwear.

  “Thanks.” Mariah accepted the bag with her good hand, and then limped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

  Dressing was harder to do with sprains, so the task took several minutes.

  When Mariah finished, she opened the door and found Anthony staring out the window. She didn’t have to see his face to know it was a mask of stone, but that didn’t stop moisture from pooling in her mouth as her eyes swept over him, taking in the beauty of his long form.

  Then he turned his head, as if a sixth sense whispered in his ear. Mouth tight and grim, his inscrutable golden yellow-brown eyes snagged hers, piercing the distance between them.

  Maria stiffened, abashed, and grasped for something to say. “Sorry, I took so long.”

  “It’s okay.” He dropped his hands from his waist to his sides. “Ready?”

  Mariah swallowed. “Yes.”

  As they drove to Allegra’s, Mariah stirred in her seat and stole a glance at Anthony. He had not spoken since they’d left the hospital.

  Maybe it’s you. You haven’t even thanked him yet. Stop being an ungrateful you-know-what.

  Mariah felt a shudder of remorse. Her leftover prejudice against men, good-looking ones, distorted her thinking. Her father planted the seed, and Terry had nurtured it. But that was no excuse for her bad behavior.

  “Ummm, Mr. Caine….”

  He captured her eyes with his before returning them to the road. “Anthony. You don’t have to be so formal. It can’t hurt, given the circumstances.”

  Mariah inclined her head in agreement, but couldn’t bring herself to speak his name. She paused and took a deep breath as her lids slipped down over her eyes. He’d been nothing but kind to her. Even after the way she treated him last night, Anthony still came and picked her up; another man would have thrown up his hands and sent a cab instead. Mariah’s felt her shield disintegrate. He continued to be considerate of her. For all he had done, Anthony deserved an apology. “I realize that…I haven’t been fair to you. In fact, I’ve been downright ungrateful… and I’m sorry. I was raised better than that. I just don’t like to be an inconvenience, especially when there’s an alternative.”