Allie's Moon (22 page)

“
What?”

“
Yeah, close ’em.”

She folded her arms and pulled back.
“Jefferson Hicks, this had better not be some kind of joke—”

“
No, I swear it’s not. When I saw this
thing, the first person I thought of was you.”

She smiled then, and almost looked pleased.
“All right.” She closed her eyes.

Putting his hands on her waist, he walked
behind her to guide her slowly across the yard and over the path of
grass that had been flattened by use. He was ashamed to find
himself bending his head just slightly to catch the scent of her
hair. She smelled faintly of lavender, and a sudden, sharp hunger
made him wonder how that silken spot behind her ear might taste if
he were to press his lips to her flesh there. He was also acutely
aware of the slender waist he held and the way her hips moved under
the heels of his hands. He resisted an almost overpowering urge to
stop her in her tracks, forget the bird’s nest, and gather her into
his arms. He took a breath and forced a casual note into his voice.
“No peeking, now.”

“
I won’t,” she agreed, allowing him to
push her along. “Is it far?”

“
Nope, in fact we’re here. But don’t
look until I say so.”

Jeff reached over Allie’s shoulder and pushed
open the newly-greased barn door, which slid almost silently on its
wheels. Then, still behind her, he directed her inside and
positioned her at the best place to view the birds’ nest. His eyes
were still adjusting to the interior gloom and he hoped he’d stood
her at the right place.

“
Jesus Christ!”

Allie’s eyes snapped open when she heard
Jeff’s exclamation and the timbre of his voice. She saw a beam and
a high, dark, cavernous space above it. The smell here was so
familiar—old straw and mustiness. She whipped her head around and
saw the walls, the rafters, the stalls,
darkness . . . darkness.

The barn! She was in the barn. The place that
she didn’t even like to look at from her kitchen window.

Suddenly she felt seven years old again. This
was the spot—the very same spot where she’d stood all those years
ago. And, oh, God, her mother. She was up there, just as before,
swinging ever so slowly back and forth, like the sluggish pendulum
on a case clock that needed rewinding. Shock gripped her throat
with a tight iron fist. Her lungs struggled for air but only a puff
slipped through. Chills raced over her scalp and body, making the
base of every hair stand erect.

The horror that had intruded upon her sleep
so often over the years had come to vivid life, only this time she
was awake and it was broad daylight. Not a nightmare. It was real
again—just like before—her mother, hanging by her neck from a
length of rope thrown over a beam, turning slowly at the end of the
tether, her head resting on her shoulder, her face the color of an
eggplant.

It couldn’t be! How could it happen
again?

It was Althea’s fault. Your fault, girl! You
hear me? All your fault!

Allie’s hands flew to her mouth and her heart
began pounding in her chest like a sledgehammer on granite. Her
breath shortened to suffocated gasps.

She wanted to run but her feet were fixed in
place.

She wanted to scream but no sound issued from
her open mouth.

“
Jesus Christ!” Jeff snapped out again
as he looked up at the dangling figure. “What in hell—”

Allie gaped at him, consumed by the panic
sluicing through her veins like icy water. “Oh, God! Dear God!” she
finally managed to squeak out, her wind coming in panting whistles.
Then she filled both lungs. “Mama!” she screamed.

Jeff clutched her arm again. “Allie, no—”

“
Mama!”

“
Allie, honey, it’s not your mother!
Look, see?” He grabbed the apron on the form and turned it toward
her. The face, she realized, wasn’t purple, but blue-and-white
striped, like a pillow tick.

“
No!” She backed away.

“
Allie, it’s just a dummy, not a real
person! Not your mother!”

A dummy—a dummy! His voice seemed to come to
her from far off, the words making no sense. No, no, no! The barn
began to spin around her. The walls leaned inward. The very air
seemed to pulsate—or was that her heart pounding? A joke. A
heartless joke. He thought this was funny? There goes Althea, one
of those crazy Ford sisters. You know what they say about them.
People talking and snickering behind cupped hands as she walked
along the street in town. Their laughter had always filled her with
rage that she dared not express. But it erupted within her now.

“
How could you?” She tore her arm from
his grip. “How could you be so cruel?” She found enough locomotion
in her rubbery legs to run for the door, but Jeff was right behind
her and closed his hand on the back of her skirt.

“
Allie! I don’t know anything about
this!”

“
Althea! Althea, what’s wrong?”
Suddenly, Olivia was in the barn too, dressed in only her nightgown
and frilly wrapper, her feet bare. She looked up at the effigy.
“Dear God above! You horrible man! You did this!” she accused
Jeff.

“
The hell I did!”

“
Let me go!” Allie wailed, trying to
free her skirt from his bunched fist. Her hair tumbled around her
shoulders and in her face, further obscuring her vision.

He uttered some obscenity, and then stretched
out one hand to yank viciously on the dummy. Its pillow-tick head
came off, releasing a blizzard of feathers, and Allie screamed
again. The rest of the body fell to the barn floor in a heap of
more feathers and the old dress it wore, leaving the noose swinging
from the rafter.

Allie brushed at the down that stuck to her
clothing, beating at it as if it were fire. Out. Please, God. She
had to get out. Only a few feet away, sunlight beckoned. Just a few
more steps. She’d be safe out there. Separated from the barn and
this monstrosity, separated from the screaming and the chaos and
the horror.

Your fault, girl! You killed your mama, God
damn you to hell. You killed your mama. I don’t ask much of you,
and just look what you’ve done! Off lollygagging when I told you to
watch after her. You look at her now, damn you! See the fruit of
your laziness and remember it well. I pray it haunts you all the
days of your life. All your doing! You murdered my wife, robbed
your sister of a mother—

Jeff’s hands had latched onto her skirt like
demon claws, pulling her back into a nightmare she’d spent her
whole life trying to escape.

“
Allie, it’s all right.” His voice
seemed to come to her from far so away. “Allie? Allie, honey,
look—it’s down now. It’s not real.”

“
Let go of my sister! What have you
done to her?” Olivia’s shrill voice was distant as well. “Althea, I
told you he’d give us nothing but trouble! How could you bring my
sister out here to the barn when she’s terrified—”

Unable to see clearly in her panic, Althea
flailed frantically with her fists, trying to knock Jeff away,
trying to free herself. Her right hand connected with his face
somewhere, but still he wouldn’t release her.

“
Damn it! Stop it, Althea, right now!
Do you hear me?”

The next instant, she felt like a child’s top
spinning on a freshly waxed floor. She fell against something rock
solid. His chest. Relentless, hard arms clamped around her. A broad
hand cradled the back of her head, strong, calloused fingers
locking over her hair to hold her. Jeff. She struggled to get out
of his embrace but even though terror doubled her strength, it was
no match for his. “Let me go! I have to get out of here!”

“
Everything is all right, Allie. It’s
all right.”

Her head began to swim then, and black spots
appeared in her field of vision. She was going to die—her pounding
heart had burst and she was dying.

Blackness washed over her and engulfed her
like a wave, pulling her down with it.

~~*~*~*~~

Jeff could remember only one other time when
he’d been as scared as he was now. That night in Wickwire’s, facing
an angry, hurting boy with a loaded gun in his hand.

Trembling himself, he’d carried Allie’s limp
body outside and now she lay half in his arms and half in the
dew-damp grass where he’d put her down. Olivia had followed, and
she stood over them, raining accusations upon him like a she-devil
spitting fire, her nightclothes flapping around her in a stiff
morning breeze. All traces of her childlike facade were missing.
But if she pitched a fit now, as far as Jeff was concerned she
could twitch herself to death before he’d leave Allie’s side.

Allie’s face was drained of all color and her
eyes remained closed. She lay so still, so silent, at first he
thought she was dead. She sure looked it. Then he saw a vein
throbbing along the column of her pale throat, and his heart slowed
from a runaway gallop to a fast canter.

Jeff had practically no experience with
fainting women. Oh, he knew that some females pretended to get
giddy and would fall into the most convenient chair while fanning
themselves with a hanky. Olivia Ford was probably that type. But
that wasn’t what had happened with Allie. She’d fainted away and
would have fallen hard if hadn’t been holding her.

Not that it had been easy to maintain his
grip. She’d thrashed around like a wet bobcat in a pillowcase. His
left eye throbbed and he realized that it was beginning to swell,
the result of being hit with one of Allie’s flying fists. He’d
probably have a first-rate shiner before long.

He couldn’t blame her, though. The sight of
that dummy hanging from the rafter had unnerved him too, and he
wasn’t dragging around the kind of memories that Allie probably had
stored in her mind.

Who the hell had hung that gruesome effigy in
the barn? And when could they have done it? He was always nearby,
patching the house or working in the field. At the moment, the
wild-haired sister standing over him was his chief suspect.

But Allie believed he was guilty, and it
would be hard for him to prove otherwise with Olivia screeching her
lies. If only he’d bothered to look in there this morning before
subjecting Allie to a living nightmare.

He looked down at her as she lay in his arms,
watching her the way a man might study an angel who’d suddenly
tumbled into his embrace, her wing broken. He was worried, yet
captivated. She was a beautiful, delicate woman, but strong, he
thought, like finely tempered steel. Her dark lashes threw shadows
on her cheeks which were just now regaining the merest tint of
pink. The angle of her body in his arms gave him a direct view down
the front of her dress where the fabric gaped away from her bosom.
He didn’t mean to look—it was a lowdown thing to do, especially
given her helpless unconsciousness. He dragged his gaze away, only
to find it straying back to the soft, white flesh no more than a
foot from the end of his nose. Well, damn it, he was only a man,
and not a good one at that, by anyone’s reckoning. And women had
been a rarity in his life since Sally left.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime,
Allie’s eyes fluttered open. He saw her confusion in them, along
with a terror that was a tangible thing.

“
What—what—” When her gaze focused on
him, she sent him a hurt, accusing look. Then more vigorously,
“Where are we?”

She struggled to sit up, but Jeff held her
fast, savoring the feel of her in his arms. The wet grass was
soaking through his jeans but he didn’t care. “Hold on, now. We’re
outside. But give yourself a minute—you won’t have your pins back
under you yet.”

“
Let me go. I don’t need your help.”
She tried again to sit up but he wouldn’t release her. Olivia
grabbed Allie’s arm and tried to pull her to her feet, but Jeff
held on just as hard.

“
Take your hands off her, you wicked,
wicked man,” Olivia demanded. Allie tried to get up again but she
fell back, too weak to fight Jeff.

He felt as if he were wading through a mist,
trying to make himself heard. “Allie, you’ve got to believe me—I
swear to God I didn’t hang that thing in the barn.”

She turned her face away and her voice,
sounding tired and old, sent chills down his arms and back. “No?
Then why did you take me in there? Who else but you has been around
here? Olivia?” Again Jeff clutched at the possibility of her
sister’s involvement, but Allie’s next words stopped him in his
tracks. “What have I done to you to deserve such a heartless trick?
Did you get a good laugh from it?”

Stung, he pulled back. “God, Allie, no! I
didn’t know that thing was in there—it wasn’t yesterday. I just
wanted to show you the nest of barn swallows.” He looked at Olivia
and stared. “Your sister said you’d love to see it.”

Olivia clutched her wrapper to herself and
pointed an accusing finger at Jeff. “He’s lying, Althea! Why would
I tell him to take you into the barn when I know better? I said no
such thing. I barely spoke with him at all.”

If Jeff needed an answer to his puzzle over
Olivia’s sanity, he had it now, and in spades. There was nothing
wrong with her mind. She was simply a manipulative and possessive
bitch. And she had trapped him very neatly in this scheme, her
obvious motive to be rid of him because she saw him as a
threat.

Allie cried, “I never go into the b-barn.
Never!”

No matter which way he turned, thanks to
Olivia, he’d hurt her. Not purposely, but clearly she believed that
he had, and almost had him convinced of it, too. He felt about two
feet tall. “Well, hell, I didn’t know that. And no one told
me.”

Olivia made a noise of disgusted impatience.
“Oh, nearly everyone in Decker Prairie knows, Althea.”