Strangers in the Night by Patricia H. Rushford Page B

then, they had seen something she hadn’t. In a way, he was right. They—or she should say Leah—had stolen her muse. She’d known how Leah felt about her artistic gifts. Told her living on the farm would knock some sense into her. Back then, Abbie didn’t know how strong Leah was. And how weak she would be. Abbie blamed Leah for a long time, but during those two years in Grand Forks she realized that she shared the blame. She had allowed Leah to rule her life. She hadn’t fought back. She’d believed the lies about her insufficiency. Like Leah’s husband and sons, Abbie gave in too. It was always easier to let Leah have her way.
    â€œI’m the one who quit painting. I’m the one who gave up.”
    â€œBut you’re back.”
    â€œI am.” Abbie sighed. “I loved Nate, Pops. And in a way, I love Leah. I just don’t like her very much.”
    He chuckled at that. “I have a feeling God would agree.”
    â€œI’m afraid of her, Pops. I’m terrified at what she could do to me. At what she’s already done.”
    â€œGod is with us, Abbie. No matter what happens, you need to believe that. The promise of light, of abundance, of hope, is ours.”
    Abbie swallowed hard. “What if I’m arrested?”
    â€œWe’ll pay the bail.”
    â€œI’m a flight risk. I’ve proven that.”
    Pops didn’t respond. Instead, he eyed the road signs and slowed down, turning off the main highway onto Bear Lake Road. “Almost there.”
    The road, barely two lanes, wound on for about a mile. Abbie felt fearful and excited all at once. The thought of buying over two hundred acres could do that to a person—especially someone like her. Her heart skipped as they passed the carved wooden sign, W ELCOME TO C OLD C REEK , E ST . 1882.
    She turned to look at her father. “I love the entrance. Makes you feel like you’re in another world.” Her excitement ebbed and in its place came a feeling of dread. Hairs rose on the back of her neck as they drove past the overgrown scrub maples that crowded the narrow road. A premonition of sorts? A warning that something was going to happen? As she peered into the dense shrubbery a branch reached into the open cab and brushed against her arm.
    Abbie shivered and forced the worrisome thoughts away, attributing them to nerves and the eeriness of dawn. Instead, she focused on the smell of fresh air and the newborn leaves fluttering in the wind.
    â€œHere we are.” Pops stopped at a junction in the road and pointed ahead.
    Abbie felt a flood of disappointment. Three mismatched streetlights lit several boarded-up storefronts. The town looked as though it hadn’t seen much activity for a long time. Jake had warned her about that. Still, it was emptier and more rundown than she’d imagined.
    â€œI know it doesn’t look like much now.” Pops peered out the windshield. “We’ll come back later when it’s daylight.”
    It didn’t look like there’d be much to see, daylight or otherwise. As he turned to the left, bypassing the main part of town, Abbie switched out her disappointment for optimism. She’d hold off on her critique until she had time to make a full assessment in the daylight.
    They continued on through town and at a Y in the road, made a left. This, Pops told her, went around Bear Lake to the fishing dock.
    They parked in the lot, and while they were pulling out their gear, Abbie looked around to get a feel for the place. A path led from the parking area to the dock, where several rowboats floated. Another path went from the dock to a doublewide trailer that sat atop a knoll. A large picture window gave the occupants a beautiful view of the lake.
    â€œThis looks like it would be a great place for a retreat center, Pops,” Abbie said. “Is the house and land here part of the property?”
    â€œIt is, and I was thinking