V. J. Banis

The Scent of Heather


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I said, the people around here are very superstitious.”

      “Old Mrs. Johnston said something about evil this afternoon,” Rebecca said.

      Maggie suddenly frowned at her. She wanted to forget what Mrs. Johnston had said.

      “Oh?” David appeared not to be interested but, despite Maggie’s frown and David’s seeming indifference, Rebecca went on.

      “Yes. She told Maggie that the house we rented was evil.”

      “Rebecca. Please,” Maggie said sternly. “Let’s not discuss that.”

      “I was only saying....”

      “I said I’d prefer we didn’t discuss it,” Maggie said sharply.

      Rebecca studied her sister for a moment. “What’s with you, Mag? You look all upset.”

      Maggie sighed. “Oh, I don’t know, Rebecca. I suppose I’m just tired from the trip and all. I just feel all on edge for some reason or other. I let that old woman get to me. Forgive me, Mr. McCloud. Would you mind terribly if I went back to the rooming house? I’m afraid I’m not very good company this evening.”

      “But you haven’t finished your dinner,” he said.

      “I’ve had all I want,” she said, getting out of her chair. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. Sitting next to Rebecca only served to remind her of the evil in her past. Was that same evil catching up with her again? No, she must not think of that ever again, she reminded herself.

      David stood up. “Well, if you feel you must leave, I’ll drive you back, of course.”

      “No, please. Don’t let me spoil your evening. It isn’t far. I can find my way easily enough. Good night,” she said quickly and turned and walked out of the restaurant.

      “Do you think your sister will be all right?” David asked Rebecca.

      Rebecca shrugged. “She gets like that sometimes. Don’t pay her any mind. She’s still pretty upset about losing her husband. Rod was a terrific guy.” She sipped from her water glass. “I’m actually quite concerned about Maggie. She hasn’t been acting like herself lately.”

      “How do you mean?”

      “Oh, I don’t know. She’s prone to tempers of late. She has always been a quiet, sensible kind of girl. Now, however, she’s turned into a stranger. The least little thing sets her off. You saw what I mean. She’s been kind of moody since she had that little talk with Mrs. Johnston.”

      “What happened with Mrs. Johnston?”

      “Oh, we ran in to her on the porch and she told Maggie we were making a mistake leasing Heather House...that the house was evil or something like that. Maggie got all upset about it. I think she would have really gotten rude if I hadn’t tugged her away.”

      “Did Mrs. Johnston explain what she meant by saying the house was evil?”

      “No, that’s just it. All Mrs. Johnston said was that we were making a mistake, that the house was evil, and Wham, Maggie got all uptight.”

      “I wonder what possessed Mrs. Johnston to say a thing like that?”

      “Well, if you remember, you yourself said some people believe Heather Lambert’s ghost is still roaming around in that old place.”

      David chuckled. “Oh, that. Well, everyone around here thinks Heather Lambert is still sitting up at that tower window waiting for her beloved husband. But you can be assured, Heather Lambert is quite dead and buried. This is a small town with small people who have small minds. They invented that ghost nonsense because they had nothing to occupy themselves with. It’s like painting their doors white. It means absolutely nothing, but you could never convince the townsfolk of that. They believe a white door wards off evil, and, come hell or high water, nobody will paint his door any other color but white.”

      “Is your door white?”

      David laughed. “My door, dear Rebecca—if I may be so bold as to call you Rebecca—is painted a very bright red.”

      Rebecca threw back her head and laughed.

      “Coffee, Rebecca?” David asked as he motioned to the waitress.

      “No. I think I should get back to the room and make sure Maggie is all right.”

      “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. You two had a very long drive. You’ve spent the last month or two closing down your old life and planning to start a new one. Your sister is most likely finding it more difficult to adjust than you. She’ll be fine once she’s settled in.”

      “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Rebecca remarked.

      “I don’t understand.” The waitress appeared and David asked for the check.

      “I’m afraid once Maggie gets settled in that house nothing short of a stick of dynamite will get her out of there.”

      “So what’s wrong with that? It really is a very fine house; this is a very nice town. I admit it is not a very thriving place, but you have only a short drive to find a major city where you can let your hair down. All in all, I think you will find Pinebrook ideal.”

      “Oh, I don’t have any objections to the town or the people. It’s that house that worries me.”

      “Look,” David said, taking her hand, “the house is nothing more than a house. It’s big and rambling but it is in excellent condition and it will make a lovely home for both of you. And if the ghost of Heather Lambert gives you any trouble, just call and I’ll come charging to the rescue on my trusty white steed.”

      “I suppose I am making a mountain out of this thing, but in view of Maggie’s strange behavior today I can’t help but worry.”

      “Come on,” David said, putting down money for the check the waitress had left. “Let’s go collect your sister and I’ll drive you out through our grape fields. They’re really beautiful at night and the aroma is delicious.”

      “You’re on,” Rebecca said.

      But when they got back to Mrs. Johnston’s they could not collect Maggie because Maggie was not there.

      “She didn’t come in,” Mrs. Johnston told them. “I saw her walking down the street, get in her car and drive away.”

      “Drive away? Where?” asked Rebecca.

      Mrs. Johnston straightened her back. “Now, I am sure I haven’t the slightest idea. She said nothing to me and if she had I doubt if I would have allowed myself to listen to her. Personally, I will be happy when you and your sister are out of here tomorrow.”

      Rebecca bristled. David stepped between the two women and asked, “Did you happen to see in which direction Mrs. Garrison headed?”

      Mrs. Johnston nodded to the north. “That way.” Toward, Rebecca thought but did not say, the Lambert house.

      “She’s just gone for a drive. Come on, let me show you our vineyards,” David said. He took her arm and walked down the steps, leaving Mrs. Johnston sitting in her rocker on the front porch.

      Rebecca let herself be helped into David’s car. After he got behind the wheel and they had started down the road, Rebecca said, “I am worried about Maggie.”

      “Maybe you two need to develop a little independence. You seem to be awfully tied to one another.”

      “Oh, I don’t think I’d say that.” After a moment, however, she added, “Now that I think of it, the only time we were apart was when we went on our honeymoons.”

      “Well, at least you took separate honeymoons,” David said with a laugh. “At least that shows some independence.”

      “I must admit I felt like a fish out of water the whole time Maggie and Rod were in Scotland.”