Page 7 of Threat of Danger
“Why does he need land? Going into sugaring?” Two acres wouldn’t produce enough sap to earn back what he’d need to invest in equipment.
“He’s building a cottage.” Rose fidgeted with her blanket. “Wants to fish after he retires.”
“That won’t be for a while yet.”
“In June. Retiring early. All those kids wore him down over the years. He’s my age.”
Jess tried to figure out how old he was. Her mother was ... sixty.
“Your friend is more than welcome to come and stay at the house too,” Rose offered. “We’ll find him a room.”
Separate rooms? Really? I’m twenty-eight.But instead of reminding her mother of that, Jess said, “Because what would Great-Aunt Matilda say?”
The refrain of her childhood.
“She was a nun. Don’t make fun of her.”
A nun who’d died before Jess was born, yet, in her childhood, Jess had heard theWhat would Great-Aunt Matilda say?question at least once a day.
Her mother shot her a pleading look. “I’d like to meet this friend of yours, and he’s welcome at the house. Why don’t you invite him?”
“No.” Again the word rushed out without Jess pausing to think first. She quickly added, “Thanks,” but it was too late, and felt too lame.
Jess did want to be with Eliot, but she didn’t want Eliot to come up. She needed to keep this place and Eliot separate. She felt as if Eliot would be somehowtaintedif he came here.
Or was she afraid that Eliot would find out thatshewas tainted?
Jess pushed the thought away.
She texted back:I’m fine. I’ll be back in time for Zombie Zoo.
I’m not worried about the movie, came the response.I’m worried about you. How are things with your mom?
Eliot knew that Jess hadn’t visited her hometown in years. He must have suspected that there was a story there, but he never pried.
She sent:As good as can be expected. I’ll call you tonight. I’m at the hospital.
His response was two letters:OK.
While Jess had typed, her mother had closed her eyes. She opened them now, half-mast. “Sorry. I’m fading fast. The drugs make me sleepy.”
“I’ll go and let you rest.”
Rose didn’t protest.
In half an hour, Jess was out of the city. Another half an hour later, she was in Taylorville, then past the small town, driving through nothing but farmland. Her family’s hundred acres were on the outskirts.
The sky had already turned dark, but the light of the moon reflected off freshly fallen snow. Barely any traffic moved on the narrow country road. She could afford to scan the familiar landscape around her. Then she reached the last rise, and suddenly a hundred acres of Taylor land spread before her, her family’s legacy: the farm and the sugar bush—a forest made up predominantly of maple trees.
She couldn’t breathe. She barely registered the white pickup truck that passed her, going in the opposite direction. And because barely registering cars wasn’t a good thing while driving, she pulled her little black Honda rental over onto the shoulder. She needed a minute.
She gripped the steering wheel as she dragged air into her lungs. As a child, Jess had believed in the Taylor legacy with all her heart, in her family being special, the maple syrup in their veins. She’d been able to see the beauty of the landscape, and feel the magic. She no longer had that ability.
Instead of awe, now all she felt was a sudden wave of terror. Cold crept up her spine. She choked back a sound that was halfway between bitter laughter and a sob.
God, how stupid and naive she’d been to think that she’d conquered fear. How had she ever believed that?
Thiswas where fear lived.
