In a Dark Season by Vicki Lane Page A

shadowy globe seemed to shrink and solidify till it was the familiar yellow moon, soaring high above the dark mountain range.
    A feeling of vast loneliness swamped her—Molly and Ursa were gone, tempted, no doubt, by the moonlight to prowl the woods till dawn, and James was fast asleep on his wintertime bed in a snug corner of her closet.
    And Ben, who for the past few years had been in and out of her house several times a day, was now preoccupied with his new love.
And that’s as it should be. Amanda’s ideal for him and they’re turning his cabin into a real home.
Briefly she thought of calling over to invite the pair to share her dinner, then remembered:
it’s the full moon, you idiot, this is the night they were going for that special raft trip with the crew from River Runners—wet suits and all. And Phillip’s in Weaverville. Well, hell.
    As she scrambled a few eggs for a quick supper, her mind turned restlessly to Nola Barrett.
She must have been lonely too, living alone in that little cottage for all these years, with just her books for company.
             
    “So, what was the niece like? And what did you find out about your friend’s condition?”
    Elizabeth was stretched out on the sofa, Nola Barrett’s laptop resting on a pillow in front of her, the telephone cradled to her ear. The feeling of desolation brought on by the rising moon had dissipated with her supper and vanished entirely when Phillip called.
Even if he insists on staying in Weaverville during the week, at least we can talk every night.
    She became aware that Phillip was repeating his question and hurried to answer him. “Apparently there’s been no change in Nola’s mental condition. She’s conscious but not…I guess
lucid
’s the word I want. Tracy—that’s the niece—said that Nola was just babbling most of the time, didn’t know where she was or what had happened. Anyway, I’m going to go see her on Wednesday. Tracy said that the facility requested that Nola be given a few days to, quote, ‘settle in’ before anyone other than family visited.”
    She sighed unhappily and Phillip’s warm, reassuring voice filled her ear. “Lizabeth, maybe your friend will improve…they’re probably running tests and looking for some organic cause for this—”
    “I don’t know, Phillip. The niece is in such a hurry. She says the doctor can’t explain the cause of Nola’s sudden dementia, if that’s what it is, and doesn’t think there’s likely to be any improvement. Tracy and her boyfriend are hell-bent on getting Nola’s stuff packed up so that the cottage can be rented or sold.”
    “Seems like they could wait a while.”
    “Which is what I hinted, but evidently they’re looking at long-term care for Nola and they need the money now. They’re in such a rush that I’m afraid they’re tossing out important stuff.”
    Elizabeth allowed herself a grim smile as she ran her hands over the lid of the little laptop. She had asked Tracy what she planned to do with Nola’s notes and partially completed novel.
    “Well, it’s not going to get written now, is it?” had been the brusque response. “Stone looked at that laptop of hers and he says it’s worthless—completely outdated. I told him to take it across to the garbage bins along with that stack of paper she’d scribbled on.”
    Elizabeth patted the computer again and let her thumb riffle the sheaf of paper beside it, a mass of pages covered with notes in Nola Barrett’s precise, minuscule script.
    “I did manage to salvage a few important things. I offered to buy some of the books, mainly ones about the county, and I convinced Tracy to let me bring the quilts here so that I could go over them and see if they need mending.”
And when I picked up the pile of quilts and saw Nola’s laptop and her notes were underneath them…
    There had been a small struggle with her conscience, but Elizabeth’s determination to hold on to something of her friend had won. She