father’s desertion was because of her mother’s pregnancy — because of her . Now was the perfect time to ask, but she couldn’t bring herself to confirm it.
“Do not let this Nick do that to you, mi hija . There is such intensity about him. I think he could be one whose touch is like flame. And he is not here to stay. I do not wish to see your heart broken again.”
“Mamá, do you wish you’d never met my father?”
Anjelita shook her head. “No, mi hija. To feel a love like that is not to be missed. Besides, I was blessed with you.”
Marisa squeezed her mother’s hand. “But he didn’t really love you, Mamá. He couldn’t have.”
“He did, as much as he was able. That is why I love him still.”
Her mother and father’s strange relationship consumed Marisa’s thoughts later as she left her mother’s cottage and took the shortcut across the big house grounds. A breeze blew from the west, making the tree branches sway and chasing the few fallen leaves across her path. The quarter moon showed through the leaves and cast ghostly moving shadows.
A chill roughened the skin on Marisa’s forearms. The brisk fall evening was a sharp contrast to the hot day and the heat in her mother’s kitchen. But it was a beautiful night to walk the half mile to her apartment. The sky was clear, without the glare and pollution of big city lights and smog. She sucked in the crisp, fresh air. Down the hill, a truck changed gears as it climbed out of the valley.
A shadow darkened the path and leaves crackled. Marisa’s neck prickled. She whirled to face whomever it might be, her key gripped like a weapon in her hand. But the lawn behind her was empty, the trees silent sentinels to the night.
Marisa’s heart pounded. She could swear she hadn’t been alone. A cloud moved across the crescent of the moon as she scanned the trees, but when the area was once again bathed in gentle moonlight, she still saw no one.
Turning, she hurried toward the road. She was just rattled from the events of the day. Ghosts haunted her tonight.
As the road heaved into sight through the front gate, a breeze chased leaves around her feet. Tree branches swayed alarmingly. The hairs on her neck stood out. Marisa sprinted the last hundred yards. She couldn’t hear anything over her pounding feet and heart. Was someone running too? She dare not turn around to see.
She flashed through the brick posts that bracketed the Easterling driveway and reached the streetlight. Swiveling, she planted her feet to attack. But there was no one there. Her gaze jerked right and left as she gulped breath into her heaving lungs. Her heart continued to thud too loudly to hear anything else. The trees still swayed in the breeze. Leaves danced. But no human moved among the shadows.
Marisa swung in the other direction and scrutinized her surroundings. No one jumped out at her. Still, she couldn’t shake her uneasiness, even though it was just the wind. She hurried down the center of the street toward her apartment. She hated being afraid for apparently no reason.
CHAPTER 7
By mid-morning the next day, Marisa felt she’d spoken to half the townspeople about the upcoming meeting. She understood why they couldn’t wait until that night to find out the details, but she wasn’t getting any work done. And she hadn’t had a chance to speak to her mother about her strange uneasiness last night.
When the phone rang again, she dreaded answering but did.
“It’s Nick Stark. Do you have a place picked out to photograph?”
Chagrined, she grimaced. “Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry. I forgot all about it with the town meeting coming up.”
“That’s okay. Maybe some other time.” His response sounded too bright and forced.
At that moment, she decided her work could wait. She wanted to watch him take photographs again. Maybe he might loosen up enough to smile. “No, no. I’ll come get you right now. I need a break from all these phone calls.”
“I can drive.” He
“Do not let this Nick do that to you, mi hija . There is such intensity about him. I think he could be one whose touch is like flame. And he is not here to stay. I do not wish to see your heart broken again.”
“Mamá, do you wish you’d never met my father?”
Anjelita shook her head. “No, mi hija. To feel a love like that is not to be missed. Besides, I was blessed with you.”
Marisa squeezed her mother’s hand. “But he didn’t really love you, Mamá. He couldn’t have.”
“He did, as much as he was able. That is why I love him still.”
Her mother and father’s strange relationship consumed Marisa’s thoughts later as she left her mother’s cottage and took the shortcut across the big house grounds. A breeze blew from the west, making the tree branches sway and chasing the few fallen leaves across her path. The quarter moon showed through the leaves and cast ghostly moving shadows.
A chill roughened the skin on Marisa’s forearms. The brisk fall evening was a sharp contrast to the hot day and the heat in her mother’s kitchen. But it was a beautiful night to walk the half mile to her apartment. The sky was clear, without the glare and pollution of big city lights and smog. She sucked in the crisp, fresh air. Down the hill, a truck changed gears as it climbed out of the valley.
A shadow darkened the path and leaves crackled. Marisa’s neck prickled. She whirled to face whomever it might be, her key gripped like a weapon in her hand. But the lawn behind her was empty, the trees silent sentinels to the night.
Marisa’s heart pounded. She could swear she hadn’t been alone. A cloud moved across the crescent of the moon as she scanned the trees, but when the area was once again bathed in gentle moonlight, she still saw no one.
Turning, she hurried toward the road. She was just rattled from the events of the day. Ghosts haunted her tonight.
As the road heaved into sight through the front gate, a breeze chased leaves around her feet. Tree branches swayed alarmingly. The hairs on her neck stood out. Marisa sprinted the last hundred yards. She couldn’t hear anything over her pounding feet and heart. Was someone running too? She dare not turn around to see.
She flashed through the brick posts that bracketed the Easterling driveway and reached the streetlight. Swiveling, she planted her feet to attack. But there was no one there. Her gaze jerked right and left as she gulped breath into her heaving lungs. Her heart continued to thud too loudly to hear anything else. The trees still swayed in the breeze. Leaves danced. But no human moved among the shadows.
Marisa swung in the other direction and scrutinized her surroundings. No one jumped out at her. Still, she couldn’t shake her uneasiness, even though it was just the wind. She hurried down the center of the street toward her apartment. She hated being afraid for apparently no reason.
CHAPTER 7
By mid-morning the next day, Marisa felt she’d spoken to half the townspeople about the upcoming meeting. She understood why they couldn’t wait until that night to find out the details, but she wasn’t getting any work done. And she hadn’t had a chance to speak to her mother about her strange uneasiness last night.
When the phone rang again, she dreaded answering but did.
“It’s Nick Stark. Do you have a place picked out to photograph?”
Chagrined, she grimaced. “Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry. I forgot all about it with the town meeting coming up.”
“That’s okay. Maybe some other time.” His response sounded too bright and forced.
At that moment, she decided her work could wait. She wanted to watch him take photographs again. Maybe he might loosen up enough to smile. “No, no. I’ll come get you right now. I need a break from all these phone calls.”
“I can drive.” He
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