Shadow of Deceit (Shadow #2) by Barbara Goss Page B

knowing why.
    “He fell off his new steam tractor.  He hit a rock and bruised the calf of his right leg pretty good, but he’ll be fine.  Why does that upset you so?”
    “I don’t know,” Julia said. She rubbed her temples.  “I had a sudden flash when I saw him limp. It disappeared fast.  But at the same time my heart suddenly beat faster.”
    “Does Miles limp or get hurt recently?” Lydia asked.
    “No. Not that I know of,” Julia said.  “I’m suddenly feeling a bit queasy, I’m going to lie down.”
     
    Every time Julia watched Geoffrey limp, an empty, sad feeling ran throughout her whole body, and didn’t know why.  Not knowing made her ill.  Each time she saw Geoffrey walk she had to lie down.
    Lydia came into her room and sat beside the bed.  “Julia, are you awake?”
    “Yes.  I’m just resting.”
    “You saw Geoffrey limping again?”
    Julia nodded.
    “I have an idea.  Let’s take a ride to Hays.  We’ll visit your old cottage. Maybe it will help you remember,” she said.
    “That’s a good idea,” Julia said.  “I have to remember.  I don’t know why Geoffrey’s limp does this to me, but it gives me mixed messages.  It’s like a wonderful memory that I am missing because I can’t remember.  The way my heart throbs, and then when I can’t recall, I get an ill feeling and then a feeling of doom.”
    “Let’s go, Geoffrey is harnessing the buggy,” Lydia said, patting her shoulder.  “I want you to remember too.  I hate seeing you like this.”
     
    When they arrived in Hays, Julia looked around the town, but nothing seemed to jar her memory.  They continued to the cottage she’d shared with her mother and brothers.  When they drove up they noticed that the house stood empty.  In fact, it looked worse now than it had when she’d left.  No one had cared for it. The yard was overgrown, windows were broken and the roof had a huge hole in it.
    “It looks as if the landlord couldn’t find a new tenant for this place, and he was too cheap to fix it up,” Julia said.  “Let’s go inside.”
    “Do you remember the landlord?” Lydia asked.
    “I remember him, it was Harry Godwin.  He wouldn’t ever fix anything when we asked,” Julia said.  “Poor mother had to hang canvas over the broken window and Miles tarred the roof several times.”
    “They announced in church about six weeks ago that Mr. Godwin died,” Lydia said as she stepped from the buggy.
    “He was only in his fifties,” Julia said, stepping to the ground.
    “No, he was sixty when he died,” Lydia said.  “I spoke to his daughter.”
    They entered the house.  Julia walked from room to room.  “I feel something.  It isn’t so much memory as a feeling nostalgia, because I do remember this house, my mother, and two little brothers.”
    “Keep walking around,” Lydia said.
    “All right, let me try,” she said.   She walked into one of the bedrooms.  “This was Mama’s room.  I do remember her in bed…it could be a memory.”
    “Do you remember her passing?” 
    “I don’t think so.”
    Julia continued walking through the house. 
    “Did your mother limp?” Lydia asked.
    “No,” Julia answered.  “She was bedridden much of the time after Billy was born, on and off.  She never fully recovered, and then with my father taking off—well she went to pieces.” Julia walked through each room but kept becoming drawn to her mother’s room for some reason.
    Julia walked back into her mother’s room.  She touched the wall. “Her bed was here.”  Julia rubbed her forehead.  “I see her!  She is lying there, dead.”  I feel the grief all over again.”
    “So you remember now that your mother is gone?”
    “Yes. And I remember the funeral.” 
    “Try to picture your brothers.”
    “I see them standing by the grave.  Miles has his arm around Billy,” Julia swiped at a few tears.  “Billy is weeping.  I run to them and we all hug.  I remember