She’d seen them again over the years, though they never came close. Sometimes, like now, she could sense them watching her from the shadows. Occasionally, she tried to call to them, but they never came close. And sometimes, she’d slip out at night when the moon was bright, and they’d sing to her. She envied them their lives in the forest.
“Rachel!”
She sat up and blinked.
“Rachel!”
A twinge of annoyance jabbed her in the stomach. She had little time to herself, though she was sure the Elders thought that small amount too much. Idle minds caused evil thoughts, apparently.
She straightened her cap, pushing the stray strands of hair beneath it, then scrambled to her feet and brushed her long skirt free of twigs and pine needles. Her white apron was stained with grass, but she would have to do. She rolled down her sleeves, fastened the cuffs of her blouse, and she was as ready as she was ever going to be.
A figure appeared at the edge of the clearing. Small and plump. She spotted Rachel and hurried over, her brows drawn together. “You shouldn’t be out here, Rachel. It’s not safe to be alone in the forest.”
Mary was the same age as Rachel, and they’d been friends growing up, despite being as different as two people could be. Mary was the good girl, genuinely good. Rachel had a feeling for these things, for seeing people’s inner nature. It could make for uncomfortable meetings, and she’d learned to hide her reactions behind a mask.
Not that Rachel was bad. She tried to follow the rules and managed with most of them. Just sometimes she needed to be alone.
She smiled. “So what’s brought you out here to the dangerous forest?”
“You, of course. Oh Rachel, you’ve got visitors, and they came in big black cars and—”
“Slow down,” she said. Visitors? She’d never had a visitor from the outside. She didn’t even know anyone from the outside. She hadn’t ventured beyond the boundaries of Haven since she was four. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know. But Pastor Yates sent me to find you.”
Pastor Yates was her grandfather and the head of the Council of Elders. She’d moved back in with him and kept his house since her husband, Joseph, had died two years ago. Joseph had been her best friend as well as her husband, and she still missed him. While she loved her grandfather, she would have preferred to stay in the house she’d shared with Joseph, but it wasn’t done for a woman to live without a man’s protection. And it was good for Jacob, her son, to have a man’s influence.
“And they sent Maggie to fetch Jacob,” Mary said as they headed along the path leading to her grandfather’s farm. “They want to see him as well.”
Why would anyone want to see her son? He was only six years old. At the thought of Jacob, something twisted inside her. The familiar mix of love and guilt. Love that she couldn’t deny, guilt that she seemed totally incapable of showing that love. It had been the same from the first moment she’d held Jacob in her arms, still covered with the birthing blood. At the back of her mind, she was haunted by the sense that she would lose him. And if she loved him, the pain would be unbearable.
Since then, something had always held her back. She knew it had worried Joseph, and she’d tried to explain. He’d said loving was always a fearsome thing. But she had loved him, maybe more as a brother and a friend than a husband, but it had been love. And she loved her grandfather. But with her son, she couldn’t express her feelings.
Poor little Jacob.
She halted as they came out from the shelter of the forest and into the open fields surrounding the farm buildings. She could see them now. Two big black cars parked in front of the barn, and a group of people standing beside them. Four men in dark suits, alert, searching the area. She sensed the moment they saw her, and she went still, a prickle of apprehension shivering down her spine.
She was being fanciful. Shaking her head, she wiped her palms down her apron and headed purposefully across the meadow.
“What do you think they want?” Mary asked in hushed tones.
“I have no idea. But I’m sure they’ll tell us.”
She spotted Jacob and Maggie approaching the house from the other direction. As Jacob saw her, he pulled free and ran across the distance between them, a huge smile on his face. However much she held aloof from him, he seemed to understand and gave his love unconditionally. He was a special child. Which just made her feel worse.
“Mama, what’s happening? Mistress Havers said we have visitors. From outside.”
She forced a smile. “Let’s go and find out, shall we?”
He tucked his hand into hers, and she forced herself not to pull away. She could feel the men’s gazes on her as they passed, and she kept her own eyes downcast. The front door opened as they approached, and her grandfather stood there. She searched his face; he was worried. Clearly not entirely happy with the visitors. Whoever they were.
“What is it, Papi?”
“Come in. You have a visitor. I’m afraid bearing bad news.”
She glanced down at herself. “Should I go clean up?”
“No, child. He’s in the parlor. Just go on in.”
“Are you not coming?”
“I think he would like a few minutes alone with you and Jacob. I’ll be right here, though, if you need me.”
She chewed on her lip. Sometimes she despaired of the never-changing routines of her life, but now she wished them back. She had no clue why, but she had a sense that everything was shifting. Her footsteps dragged as she walked slowly to the parlor door and turned the handle, pushed it open.
A man stood with his back to her, staring out of the window. He would have no doubt seen them approaching. As the door clicked shut, he turned. She took a quick look and then lowered her eyes. He was old. Probably as old as her grandfather. Maybe seventy, tall and too thin. His eyes were gray and so were his skin and his hair. He wore a black suit, a white shirt, and a black tie.
And a lot of bad feelings emanated from him. Rachel had to force herself not to take a step back. Not to take Jacob out of there and run and hide in the forest with the bears and the wolves. Where it was safe.
He took a step toward her, coming to halt way too close, and held out his hand. “Hello, Rachel. You probably don’t remember me but I’m your grandfather.”
She didn’t want to take the hand, but she made herself to reach out, slide her palm into his, half-expecting something bad to happen, an electric shock or…she was being fanciful—again. But his grip was firm and dry.
He was a close family member, which meant the strict rules regarding males were relaxed. She raised her head and studied him, trying to work out where the sense of unease was coming from.
“I remember you,” she said.
Actually, he was one of the figures from her childhood nightmares, though she couldn’t remember him doing anything to earn that role. He was just a shadowy memory. But then, she’d been only four when her mother had left her father and returned to the life she’d run from. Run away a second time, in effect. First, from the restrictions of growing up in Haven, then from…Rachel didn’t know what had made her run from her husband.
Growing up, she’d often asked about her father. After all, she was the only child in Haven who didn’t have a father—and her mom had said it was complicated and she would explain when Rachel was older. Except she’d died when Rachel was twelve, without ever telling her anything. Slipped and fallen into the river when it was swollen from the spring melt.
Her grandfather still had hold of her hand, and she pulled free, resisting the urge to wipe her palm down her apron.
Are you going to introduce us?” he asked, nodding to where Jacob clung to her skirt, half behind her as though he too could sense something wrong about the encounter. He was usually such an open boy.
She put her hand on his shoulder and urged him forward. “This is Jacob. Jacob, say hello to your great-grandfather.”
“Hello.” His voice was small.
“Hel
lo, Jacob. I hope we get to know each other better.”
That didn’t sound good. She didn’t want to get to know this man. And she certainly didn’t want her son to have too much contact with him. Why had he turned up now? What had changed?
“Perhaps you would like to leave us for a minute, Jacob. I need to speak to your mother alone.”
Jacob’s hand tightened in hers, and he looked up at her, searching her face. She gave a small nod, and he let go and turned, but paused with his hand on the door handle, looking back over his shoulder. “Do you want me to stay, Mama?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’ll be fine, Jacob. Go find Papi.”
He disappeared, closing the door behind him and leaving her alone with her grandfather.
“He’s protective of you,” he said.
“Yes. Since his father died.”
She waited for some words of condolence, but they never came. He was studying her, his eyes narrowed, and she held herself very still.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I don’t know your name.”
“Jeremy Danvers. Senator Danvers.”
She didn’t know much about the world outside the settlement, and less about its politics, but she understood being a senator made him an important person.
“But you must call me grandfather.”
She didn’t want to. Didn’t want a reminder of how she was tied to this man. “How can I help you…grandfather?” She shrugged, feeling suddenly helpless. “I mean, it’s…nice to meet you after all this time. But why have you come now?”
“I’m afraid I have bad news.”
She’d been staring at the floor, more out of habit than need, now her gaze flew to his face. “What’s happened?” She couldn’t imagine what had brought him here.
“Your father, my son Michael, died in a car accident two weeks ago.”
Somehow, she hadn’t expected the words. She waited for some emotion, grief maybe. She had a vague memory of being fond of her father, but she hadn’t seen him in twenty years. In that time, he had made no attempt to contact her. Did he even know that her mother was dead? She’d once asked Papi about him, but he’d claimed her mother had told him nothing. Just that the marriage hadn’t worked out, that she’d feared for her daughter in that environment, and so she’d come home.
Michael Danvers.
That was her father’s name.
How strange that she was hearing it for the first time in so many years. Now it had been spoken, she remembered it from long ago.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That must have been painful for you. Losing a child is the hardest thing a parent can experience.” A wave of grief washed through her, familiar, but she had no clue from where. A pain so deep, it pierced her heart. She swallowed, forced the feeling down.
“He was my only child,” he said. “His death was a blow.”
“Thank you for coming to tell me. It was…kind.”
Why did she think kindness had not been part of his decision to come here? A flicker of foreboding nudged at her. That sense her life was about to change. Or was, if this man had any say in the matter. And she didn’t want her life to change. She loved it here, felt as though she was safe and belonged. And while many of their ways were restrictive, and she believed, deep down, unnecessary and unfair, she also had a freedom she was sure she wouldn’t find in the outside world. Her mother had sometimes spoken of it. The cities and the people. So many people.
“Perhaps not entirely kind,” he said. “The truth is, I didn’t even know I had a great-grandson until I was going through your father’s papers.” He pursed his thin lips. “Are you aware that your father employed an organization to find you and your mother after she left?” Shock flashed through her at that. He had? But why had he never tried to contact them? She shook her head, and he continued. “Even up to his death, he received a monthly report on your circumstances.”
“I didn’t know.” Why, when he clearly wanted nothing to do with them? And how? Had he had people spying on them? A shiver prickled across her skin.
“Neither did I. I thought he had moved on from his youthful infatuation with your mother.” He studied her, his head cocked to one side. “He married again. Divorce was never an option—we’re Catholics—but after your mother died, he married the daughter of a family friend. They never had children.”
“I’m sorry.” She kept saying that, but had no clue what else to say. She just wished, now he’d told her his news, that he would leave them and never come back.
“Well, you can imagine my pleasure when I learned about Jacob.”
She went still, her hands grasping the material of her skirt as though she sensed danger. “Jacob?”
“Yes. I felt as though I had another chance.” Another chance at what? “I would like Jacob to come and live with me in Washington, DC.”
She took a step back before she could stop herself. Something warned her to show no weakness where this man was concerned.
“And yourself, of course. It will be an adjustment after the life you have lived here, but I gather from the reports that you’re an intelligent woman.” He smiled. “That was a relief. There was some concern when you were a child of…abnormalities. You were a strange little thing.” His gaze wandered over her, and her skin crawled. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman. I’m sure with a little guidance you can be an asset to the family.”
Her tongue seemed stuck to the roof of her dry mouth. Was he crazy? But he looked perfectly serious. He expected her to leave her home and go live with him? In the city?
When she didn’t speak, he frowned. “I have a dinner this evening, and I need to get back to DC. You won’t require clothes—you’ll get new things, obviously. But if there’s anything you want to take, I suggest you fetch it now.”
Now?
He expected her to go with him now?
She cleared her throat. “I thank you for your kindness, grandfather, and for bringing me the sad news of my father. But my home is here. Jacob’s home is here. We have no wish to move to the city.”
“Don’t be foolish. I’m offering you an escape from this place. A better life, a—”
“I like my life here.”
“You just don’t know anything different.”
“I’m not entirely ignorant of the outside world, and I have no wish to live there. I love it here. Jacob is happy.” She forced a smile. He was Jacob’s great-grandfather, after all. “If you wish to visit us and get to know Jacob, you are always welcome in our home.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes. “You think I’m going to make another trip to this godforsaken place?”
He took a few deep breaths and brought himself under control. Then he smiled, an expression not reflected in his eyes. “Wouldn’t you like some pretty clothes? Nice things? You’re a beautiful woman—you could have anything you wanted if you play it right.”
“I have everything I want right here.”
“Think of your son. What life can he have here? I can offer him the best schools and the finest education money can buy. You owe it to him.”
“I owe it to my son to bring him up to be a good, god-fearing man.”
His nostrils flared. “Look, girl, I’m offering you and your son a life most people only dream of. Now, get your things and your son. We’re leaving in five minutes.”
Never.
She backed away until her shoulders hit the door. Reaching blindly behind her for the handle, she turned it. “I thank you again.” She opened the door and slipped out. After closing it behind her, she stood for a moment, breathing hard as though she’d been running. Jacob stood in the kitchen door, wide-eyed. She held out her hand. He ran across the room and took it, and she hurried him up the stairs to their room, slamming the door closed and crossing to the window.
Five minutes later, she heard the sound of engines. She peered around the edge of the curtain and watched as the cars pulled away and disappeared down the drive in a cloud of dust.
&nb
sp; The tight band around her chest loosened.
But she couldn’t get rid of the niggling doubt that she hadn’t heard the last of Senator Danvers.
Chapter 3
In the two days since the senator’s visit, Rachel hadn’t been able to rid herself of the sense of unease. She’d kept Jacob close to her over the weekend, and slowly her nerves had settled. She’d spoken to Jacob, told him of the offer of a new home. She’d felt it was her duty to inform him, and maybe when he was older, if he wanted to, he could visit his great-grandfather. Though that was many years away. He’d been unequivocal in his response. He didn’t want a new home. He liked this one, and he would never leave his papi.
She had no doubt the senator would try again. He’d seemed so determined. Almost irrationally so. But she would stand firm, and he couldn’t force her to move to the city.
This morning she’d sent Jacob off to school and afterward, she’d sneaked off to the peace of the forest. She’d probably get in trouble for it later, but she’d spent the morning walking the woodland trails, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and flowers, soaking in the warm sunshine.
As she often did, she had the feeling of being watched. But it was benign and made her feel safe. She’d finally shaken off the last of her worries. The midday mealtime was approaching, and she should move. Instead, she lay in the sun-dappled shade of a clearing, staring up at the blue sky.
A branch snapped, the sharp, alien noise bringing her upright. Another. Something was moving through the forest. Something that didn’t belong. Clumsy and heavy. She pushed herself to her feet and glanced around. Nothing was out of place, but she couldn’t shift the sense of wrongness.
The sounds came from the direction of the house. Part of her knew she should head for the safety of home and company. But she couldn’t make herself take a step in that direction. She wavered, searching the shadowy forest for an answer. Where to go? As she stood, her breath coming sharp and fast, a man stepped out of the trees. A stranger, dressed, unlike any of their people, in a dark suit. The sense of wrongness intensified. She looked down, her gaze snagging on the gun in his hand. He took a step toward her as a second man appeared a few feet to his left.
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