Nightwind (34 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Tags: #Romance, #Horror, #Fiction, #Gothic, #General

BOOK: Nightwind
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Ben Hurlbert stood up and looked down at her. “I just said I think us not being able to learn that much

about Cree is kinda suspect.”

Lauren sighed. They’d been through this before. She also stood up. “Well, like you say: Syntian was a

very private man.” She started walking to the front door, knowing he would follow.

“You gonna be all right out here by yourself?” Ben asked as they reached the door and he took his hat

from the hall tree.

Lauren wrapped her arms about her. “There’s no ghosts in this house, Benny,” she said in exasperation.

“That ain’t what I meant and you know it,” he said, not unkindly. “It’s just so far out here and if anything

should happen...” He blushed. “Well, you know.”

She smiled. “I know.”

Ben let out a long breath. “Why don’t you have your Mama come out and stay with you a while. She’s

back from down south, ain’t she?”

Her mother living with her, even visiting, was the last thing Lauren wanted, but she didn’t want to tell Ben

that. She shrugged away his question. “If I need anything, I’ll call you. How about that?”

Hope rose in the man’s dark eyes. “Promise?”

Lauren smiled and reached up to cup his cheek. “I promise.” She took his arm and propelled him

through the door.

As he drove away, Ben Hurlbert glanced only once in the rear view mirror of his patrol car. Lauren

Fowler, a woman he had fallen helplessly in love with over the last year, was standing in the doorway of

her home, her shoulders slumped, her head down, and he knew she was crying.

“What you think happened to him, Ben?” Nate asked, breaking the silence between the two lawmen.

Ben’s jaw jutted out with anger. “I think the bastard deserted her, is what I think!”

Nate nodded as he picked at his dirty fingernails with his pocketknife. “Yep. Me, too.” He glanced at

Ben. “Shame, too, ‘cause she’s a real nice lady, don’t you think?”

Ben’s face lost some of its anger. “Yeah. I do.”

Chapter Nineteen

Maxine Fowlerhad been told all about her daughter’s misery. It seemed as though everyone in Milton

knew about the troubles that had fallen on Lauren’s fragile shoulders. No one seemed to mind regaling

Maxine with what they thought had happened to the girl and no one seemed to see the anger in Maxine’s

expression when they did.

“He up and left her, Maxine,” Peggy Johnson had said at the beauty parlor that morning. “It’s just a

damned shame, it is.”

“Imagine how that poor child must feel,” Nancy, the beautician had commiserated. “Never having had a

man make over like that before and then all of a sudden, he’s done traipsed off with some other gal.”

“Your daughter is just the sweetest thing, Maxine,” one of the old maid Black sisters had been quick to

tell Maxie at the Piggly Wiggly later that day. “I just don’t know why Syntian did her the way he did, but

I’ve told her if she needs anything, Sister and I will be glad to help out any way we can.”

The more she had heard, the angrier Maxine Fowler became. It had been all she could do to act civil to

the busy bodies that had sought her out to discuss Lauren’s problems. Nor was it an easy thing to do to

answer the questioning looks those same old biddies had given her when they’d made sure Maxie knew

Lauren was no longer a social outcast in their little town.

“Maybe you were just a little too hard on her,” Henrietta Malone had had the nerve to say at Rollo’s fish

market. “Didn’t let her stretch her wings and try new things. You treat a girl like she’s a hothouse plant,

Maxine, and the next thing you know she’s getting herself mixed up with a man like that Syntian Cree.”

The old woman had shaken her head sadly. “He broke her heart and left her with a baby she’s going to

have to take care of all by herself.”

Maxine looked at the crippled old bitch and said, “Lauren has a mother to help her take care of that

baby!”

The girl behind the fish counter had exchanged a knowing look with old lady Malone and Maxine had

exploded with fury, pushing past several customers to rush outside and away from the accusing stares.

The drive to Lauren’s house, no, Maxine corrected, Syntian’s house, had been a blur. She couldn’t

remember driving down the highway, stopping or even slowing for any red lights although there were

several between the fish shop and the turn off to the old Herndon homestead. Everything had just passed

without her noticing until she was sitting in front of the ante bellum home, her car engine idling, suddenly

more afraid than she had ever been in her life. Her hands had a death grip on the steering wheel and she

could not seem to reach down to turn off the ignition. It wasn’t until Lauren opened the front door and

stepped out onto the veranda that Maxine found the strength, and courage, to shut off the engine and get

out of the car.

Lauren held her hand up to shield her eyes for the house faced the west and the sun was low on the

horizon, nearly blinding her. When she had heard the car approaching, she had known immediately who it

belonged to. She’d dreaded hearing that engine for nearly two weeks, the length of time since her

mother’s return from Wewauhitchka. Taking a deep breath, Lauren ventured out to the top step and

watched her mother walk toward the house.

“How’s everybody in Wewah?” Lauren asked, hoping to forestall the words she knew her mother

would say.

Maxine’s lips tightened. “Fine. Just fine.” She stopped at the bottom step and stared up at her daughter.

The anger went out of her like the air released from an over-expanded balloon.

Lauren had deep dark circles under her eyes. She had lost weight everywhere but at her midsection

where the slight bulge of impending motherhood was already beginning to form. The girl was pale, far too

pale, and she looked as though she hadn’t slept in days. There was a haunted look in her too thin face

and her hand trembled as she held it up to block out the sun. She appeared weak and frail and listless

and the haunted look that peered at Maxine was piteous.

Maxine took a step up the stairs. “Are you all right, Anna Lauren?” she asked, taking another step.

Lauren shrugged. “As right as I can be, I suppose.” She turned around and headed for the door. “Come

on in, Mama.”

Even the girl’s voice was sluggish, without tone or expression or life. She seemed to stumble when she

walked and Maxie couldn’t help but wonder if the girl was eating right and she said so.

“I haven’t had much of an appetite,” Lauren admitted as she showed her mother into the parlor. She

turned and looked blankly at Maxine. “You want some iced tea?”

Not once in her daughter’s life had Maxine really noticed the girl. Oh, she had cared for her when she

was little. Well, she had to admit, as much as she had wanted to care for her. Most of the time, both

Lauren and her older sister, Joanne, had fended for themselves: getting up to get their own breakfast;

getting themselves to school, listening to one another’s problems. That was until Joanne had hung herself.

Maxine shook away the memory and really looked at her daughter for the first time. What she saw made

her feel as guilty as sin and twice as heartless.

“Mama?” Lauren asked. “Do you want the tea?”

The older woman shook her head. “I want to talk,” she said in a gruff voice and winced as her daughter

nodded wearily.

“I knew you did.” Lauren sighed. She seated herself in one of the Queen Anne chairs and folded her

hands in her lap, waiting patiently for the diatribe she knew was coming.

Maxine glanced about the room, knowing Syntian had prepared this room to please Lauren. Everything

spoke of good taste and wealth. Not a stick of furniture scattered professionally about the place would

be of poor quality. Only the best would have been brought to this place. Only the best for the woman

Syntian Cree had wed.

Deep, abiding jealousy ranged through Maxine’s soul and she shivered, casting aside the emotion.

Syntian had never cared anything for her. He had used her as she had once used him. His vengeance had

been swift and exacting when she had broken the pact between them and he had made sure she knew he

had taken pleasure in seeing her hopes and dreams smashed. Now, her daughter’s dreams and hopes

had been destroyed, but Maxine knew Syntian was not at fault this time.

She knew who was.

“How long has he been gone?” Lauren heard her mother ask.

Lauren shrugged. “Three months, now.”

“And there has been no word?”

Lauren smoothed a wrinkle in her skirt. “No word,” she repeated.

Maxine heard the abject sorrow in her daughter’s voice and for the very first time, her child’s pain had

meaning for her. She took a deep breath and looked away from Lauren’s bent head.

“Have you asked Angeline Hellstrom where he is?”

Lauren looked up, a faint glimmer of interest showing in her wan face. “She says she doesn’t know.”

“They were having an affair; have been for years,” Maxine grumbled. She could have bitten off her

tongue when she saw the immediate tremor that tugged at Lauren’s lips.

“I know all about that, Mama,” she admitted.

Maxine didn’t say anything for a moment. She was trying to find the best way to relate to her daughter

what she knew without making the girl think she was crazy. As she sat there, pondering what, if anything,

she should say, she became aware of Lauren staring quizzically at her. She squirmed in her seat, but held

her daughter’s gaze.

Lauren’s brows drew together. “Do you know something you aren’t telling me, Mama?” When her

mother appeared to silently shrug away the question, Lauren let out a bone-tired sigh. “Mama, I really

don’t feel like doing this today.” She stood up. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really don’t feel all that

well and I’d like for you to go.”

“He’s with Angeline,” Maxine blurted out, causing her daughter to take a step back from the fierceness

in her mother’s voice. She held up a placating hand. “Just hear me out and if you think I’m a raving

lunatic, then you can call the little men in the white coats to come get me.”

“Mama, I’m not feeling well and I haven’t been sleeping.” She pushed herself up from her chair. “I’m not

trying to be rude, but I’m not up to listening to you...” She stopped and put a hand up to her forehead.

She wavered for a moment and then looked at her mother. “I...”

Maxine squinted, watched what little color Lauren’s face had, bleach away. She stood up slowly.

“Lauren?”

The room shifted about her and Lauren’s eyes rolled up in her head. She dropped to the floor, falling in

a crumpled heap, one arm flung out.

“Lauren!” Maxine shouted and ran to her daughter, kneeling down beside her. “Lauren?” She put her

hand on Lauren’s cheek, shocked to find the flesh ice-cold. Scrambling to her feet, she ran to the phone

and dialed 911.

Dr. Daniel Mayheauxstraightened up and motioned Maxine from the triage room. He closed the door

quietly behind them, ushering Maxine away from the room. “In here,” he said, opening the door to the

doctor’s lounge. “Have a seat, Mrs. Fowler.”

Maxine sat down and looked up at the physician with concern. “She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?”

The doctor poured himself some coffee, offering Maxie cup. She declined. “Everything considered,” he

said as he spooned Equal into his cup, “I’d say she’ll come out of this just fine.” He stirred his coffee,

took a sip and let out a tired sigh. It had been a long day. He sat down at the table and stretched out his

long legs. “She hasn’t been taking care of herself and that’s not good.”

“But what’s wrong with her?” Maxine asked. “I never fainted once when I was carrying either of my

girls.”

Dr. Mayheaux held up his hand and counted off the reasons why Lauren Fowler was lying across the

hall. “She’s undernourished; she’s exhausted; she’s worried; she’s been trying to deal with her husband’s

disappearance all on her own; and she’s pregnant.” He took another sip of the hot, bitter coffee. “If she

doesn’t start looking after herself, she could lose the baby.”

Maxine nodded. “Lauren has never been a strong person,” she answered. She sat back on the sofa and

studied the doctor. “What can I do to help?”

Dr. Mayheaux’s brows shot up. “This is something new, isn’t it, Maxie? Since when have you

developed concern for Lauren’s state of well being?”

“Don’t start with me, Danny,” she snapped, looking away from the sarcastic disbelief in the man’s face.

“I may not be able to show affection as easily as most women, but I do care about what happens to my

daughter.”

The physician drew in his legs and leaned forward across the table to stare the woman in the eye.

“Lauren’s going through a tough time right now, Maxine. She doesn’t need any more turmoil to make

matters worse.”

Maxie’s head came up. “And you think that’s what I’ll do? Make matters worse?”

“I hope not, but you’ve never shown any real motherly love for that girl since the day I delivered her.”

His gaze narrowed. “As a matter of fact, I remember you saying you wished she’d never been

conceived.”

“I didn’t want to bring another child into this world for Brewster to...” She looked away, a dull red blush

of guilt spreading over her face.

Dr. Mayheaux sat back in his chair. “If you knew Brewster was molesting Joanne, you should have gone

to the law. You didn’t and you saw what happened to your child.”

A shudder ran through Maxine, but she would not look at her accuser. “I kept Lauren away from him.”

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