Authors: Elaine Waldron
She hoped the sky would be clear on the full moon, for she remembered it as being a beautiful sight rising over the mountains and trees of an evening. She was really eager to get some good photos so she could try painting some night scenes.
Somewhere a wolf howled in the distance; a forlorn and lonely sound. A few seconds later, another wolf answered with its own sorrowful cry. Then she jumped back, for the raven suddenly appeared and landed on the railing to her left. “Shit!” she hissed. “Where in hell did you come from?”
The large bird cocked its head and stared at her curiously.
“You have got to be the same bird. I see plenty of crows around, but I only see one raven at a time. And I pretty sure it’s always you.”
The bird croaked at her and flapped its wings once, but it remained on the railing. Just sat there eyeing her as though it was trying to figure out something.
“What do you want? You are one weird…bird.” She turned and went to walk away, but heard wings flapping and she looked and saw that the raven was flying off. “Good!” She went on in the cottage then and locked up for the night. Begrudgingly, with nothing else interesting to watch on television and not feeling like reading, she took her shower and went to bed.
When Madison awoke the next morning she was determined to put Chuck out of her mind and do some housework, and then take those daytime photos she’d wanted to take while the weather was still pretty. She cleaned out and rearranged the hall closet and mopped the bathroom. By then it was just a little past noon. She ate a quick lunch of sliced cheddar cheese and potato chips and decided it was time for that walk. Just as she had her sweater on and was headed out the back door, there was a honking and a Jeep marked US Mail pulled in her drive. A middle-aged woman with brown eyes and brown hair cropped at the shoulders jumped out and handed her a letter.
“I believe this is yours, Madison,” she said, smiling amiably “Long time no see.” She held out her arms for a hug.
“Debra Jean!” Madison gave her an enthusiastic embrace and stepped back, taking the letter postmarked Texas. It had to be from her mother. “Yes…A few years.”
“About six or seven, if memory serves me correctly. Seems after you started high school, you quit coming up here for the summers.”
“Yes. I did come up a couple of times at Christmas, but I didn’t stay the summers. My mother insisted I work…How have you been, Debra Jean?”
“Good. Got myself a beau now.”
“That’s awesome! What’s his name?”
“Alex…Actually Alexander Crawford. Good lookin’ too. Big man. Used to be a lumberjack. Retired from that. Opened up a nightclub down the road from Chuck’s.”
Madison frowned at the mention of Chuck.
“I say something wrong?” Debra Jean asked.
“Not really…Just…Never mind. It’s not important.”
“Hey! If he’s done or said anything to make you unhappy, you tell me. He seems like a pretty nice guy. Although, he keeps to himself. Not too many folk around here really know much about him other than that he owns the store…Except for Indian Joe, maybe.”
“Oh…He’s nice enough. It’s just that he took me out to eat and dancing the other night. We had a lot of fun. At least, I did. I thought surely he would call me yesterday. But nada. Nothing. Zilch. Haven’t heard a word.”
Her lips spread in a sympathetic smile. “You’re disappointed. Dern him. He’s just being a man, Madison. Not the first man that ever got a woman all excited and then left her hanging for a while. Between you and me…I think they do it deliberately. They don’t want us to know just how much they like us. Anyway, that’s the way I see it.” She smiled supportively.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Sure I am. You’ve become really pretty with your blonde hair and all. What’s not to like? He’ll be calling you soon.”
“Maybe. Only, I’m not going to hold my breath.” She held up her small camera. “Gonna get some pictures while the weather’s nice. So I’ll have plenty of subject matter to paint when the weather’s cold.”
Debra Jean glanced at her watch. “Well, I gotta get back to my route. Don’t you worry your pretty head about that Chuck fella. I’m sure he’s nice. I do believe he will call you. Now, you enjoy your day taking those pictures.”
“I will. And thanks for the moral support.”
“Not a problem.” She grinned, slid into her Jeep and backed out of the drive, waving madly as she drove off.
It suddenly sunk in that Debra Jean had said her beau’s name was Alex. The new nightclub where Chuck had taken her dancing was Alex’s. “Shit! We must have been in his place! Why didn’t I connect it when she was here?” She shrugged. “Oh well. Sometimes I’m slow. Only, lately it seems more often than not.”
She headed out for her walk but this time she decided to make her way alongside the road. She passed Chuck’s. His truck was gone. She really hadn’t expected anything else. He would still be at his store. There was a slight, pleasant breeze and a lot of crows around, cawing and flitting about between the tree branches. She almost had the feeling they were watching her every move. “Madison,” she said to herself, “this isn’t a Hitchcock movie. You’re merely taking a stroll. This is the county. There are lots of birds in the county.” She did wonder where her raven friend was.
She continued her leisurely pace, and just as she decided she’d gone far enough, even though she hadn’t taken one single photo, she came to a log cabin that sat back from the road about five hundred feet. There was a vintage, red Oldsmobile parked in the pebbled drive. And though she figured it was an early Fifties’ model, it was polished to the hilt. One could see the reflections of the trees and sky in it. “Damn! That car is cool!” Immediately, she had the gut-feeling that it belonged to Devin Knight.
She knew she shouldn’t, but she felt compelled. The next thing she knew, she was knocking on his front door.
No one answered.
She glanced around. Surely he was there. Once more, she tried the door. Silence. Sighing heavily without being sure why, she felt disappointed. “Dammit!”
It was a slightly longer cabin than most she’d seen, with an elongated front porch and double windows to the right of the door. She thought to take a peek inside, but realized the windows were covered by heavy black drapes. “Weird,” she commented to herself. “Who on earth would want black drapes?” Deciding to hell with it, she left the porch and returned to the road, glancing behind at the cabin every little bit until it was out of sight. She headed back in the direction of her cottage. Still, she hadn’t taken any pictures.
She stopped suddenly, noticing a deer poking its nose out of the trees, probably considering crossing the road. Quickly, she positioned her camera, and sure enough, the deer headed across, followed by two young doe. She got several good shots by the time the mother deer and her young were across and into the woods on the other side. “Well, at least my walk wasn’t all for naught.”
Realizing she wasn’t in the mood to take any more pictures, she went home and loaded the ones she did have onto her computer and printed them up and stuck them on the wall by her monitor with thumb tacks. “That’s it for today. Tomorrow, I’ll take more photos, if it’s not raining.”
It was time to do some laundry. She was thankful that Aunt Mattie’s washer and dryer that were on the back porch still worked. She gathered up her dirty clothes, sorted the whites from the colors, putting the whites in first, poured in the liquid Tide, closed the lid and pushed the knob in. She went back in to read. Aunt Mattie had left a wealth of books, including most of the classics. For some reason, she decided she would read Bram Stoker’s “Dracula”. She’d been curious about it as a teen, but was a little skittish about reading it. She knew exactly where it was, as it had been one of Aunt Mattie’s all-time favorites. It was on the top shelf in the living room, the very first book to the left.
She took the book out, grabbed herself a cold Coca-Cola out of the refrigerator and settled down on the sofa to read.
Devin Knight rose from his bed and slipped into his black silk robe; glad the sky was overcast, as it aided in the darkness coming quicker. Early mornings and late afternoons, he could go about in the daylight, when it was overcast. Something he was very grateful for, as he had tired a long time ago of living his life only at night. His thoughts went to Madison. He’d thought of little else since she had moved into Mattie’s cottage; wanted to get to know her better, but felt it was something he needed to go about gradually.
There was so much about her that reminded him of Mattie, the woman his heart still ached for. He had loved Mattie so deeply, and she had loved him. Only she had never wanted to be turned. Something he had wished for many years that she would eventually want, but she just never could bring herself to do it. Out of love for her, he had respected her wishes, but he had never ceased loving her, not even when she grew old. For her loveliness was much more than skin deep. She’d had a beautiful soul. It was Mattie the person he had loved, not her looks. Like Madison, she had been very pretty when she was young; in his eyes, a rare and delicate flower to behold. Now, seeing Madison all grown up, it was almost like seeing Mattie again for the first time. Like the old adage, she had taken his breath away. And though he was a vampire and didn’t have to breathe, he did anyway, as it made him appear more human.
He moved to the den downstairs where he had his private bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey, downed it, filled the glass again, and just as quickly drank that down. Liquor had a way of curbing the intense hunger for blood; something that was always with him.
He would have to feed tonight. There was no question about it. As it was, it had been especially hard for him not to answer the door when Madison knocked.
He had not dared to respond; afraid he would grab her and feed from her the minute he smelled her tantalizing scent. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally kill her.
No. He hoped that they would strike up a lifelong relationship. And, if things turned out really well, that would be an eternity.
Three
Madison read about a third of the way through the book and decided she didn’t want to read anymore, set the book open-faced, down on the coffee table and checked her watch. It was just a little after nine. It was Wednesday night. There was a band playing at Alex’s, the same one that was there when Chuck had taken her dancing. She decided she’d change into her dress jeans and a new red blouse she’d been dying to wear someplace, showered, changed clothes and left for the nightclub.
The parking lot was packed when she arrived, but she managed to squeeze her Kia Rio into a far corner spot; got out and stood there listening to the country music blaring from the club. She was nervous, for normally she never went out by herself to clubs at night. But she was bored, lonely, and Chuck obviously wasn’t going to call.
After checking her ID at the front door with the big tow-headed bouncer that went by the name of Sam, she stepped hesitantly into the club, looking forward across the foyer and towards the dance floor. Past that was a long bar with a mirror behind it.
Several young men turned their heads her way, some practically drooling as she walked in, and she was just about to turn around and leave when she heard a friendly, familiar voice yell, “Madison! Come on over here!” Debra Jean was at the far left end of the bar sitting on a stool and waving madly at her to come on over.
Just then, the lead singer for the band announced they were taking a break, and Madison was grateful, thinking she’d be able to talk to Debra Jean for a few minutes without yelling.
Debra Jean sat talking to Alex – whom Madison had met previously before she knew he was Debra Jean’s boyfriend – the six-foot-four, former lumberjack who was bartending. He nodded, smiled pleasantly and said hello, recognizing her when she had been there with Chuck. She said hello back.
Debra Jean slapped the empty stool to her right. “Sit your pretty derriere down here and keep me company while Alex tends to customers.”
“I will do that. Thank you!” she replied, now glad she’d come. At least, she had someone to talk to. She ordered a draft beer, and Alex brought it to her, and then she followed him with her eyes as he walked to the other end of the bar. To say he was well-built was an understatement. Definitely looked like a lumberjack. He had dark brown hair, thinning at the crown, but it didn’t take away from his looks at all. She decided he’d even look good bald.
“Handsome, isn’t he?” Debra Jean said, getting Madison’s attention.
Madison faced her. “Sorry…Was I ogling?”
“That you were,” she replied, grinning cheerfully. “I’m used to it, though. As long as he only has eyes for me, I am just fine with other women admiring him. Makes me proud.”
“Well…I have to say one thing. Since I arrived, I’ve seen some of the best-looking men I’ve seen in my entire life. What is it? Is it the climate? The water? What?”
“You’re referring to Chuck too, aren’t you?” she asked, taking a sip of her tap beer.
“Chuck and Mr. Knight.”
“Mr. Knight?” She seemed confused for a minute, but then said, “Oh! You mean the recluse! The gorgeous hunk that rarely shows his face in public.”
“I guess he’s the one. He said he didn’t socialize much.”
“Gorgeous green eyes?”
“Yes. They sparkle like fine jewels.”
“He’s the one.” She took another sip of her beer, eyeing Madison thoughtfully. “You haven’t been here that long. I’m surprised you’ve come across him already.”
She told Debra Jean about her little venture into the woods in the evening, and how she had embarrassed herself, caught snooping around his grandfather’s property, but he had still been kind enough to escort her home.
“I have to tell you,” she admitted. “You’ve got more guts than I. Taking a walk so late in the evening, just before dark. And in the woods! Hell! I would have been spooked out of my skin.” She rubbed her arm. “Shit! I get chills just thinking about it.”
“My mother always said I didn’t have a lick of good sense. Maybe I don’t.” She took a drink of her beer and sat the mug down. “I’ve been known to act and think later more than once. Sometimes it gets me in trouble.” She glanced off at the pretty barmaids who were running around the packed tables like chickens with their heads cut off. One went by the name of Fannie and the other one they called Grace. She was glad she didn’t have to work her butt off like they did for a living.