Dawns Everlastin' (former title: Dusk Before Dawn) Book 2 (5 page)

She stopped in her tracks,
her eyes widening in horror.

"Oh, no.
Oh...
nooo,"
she
moaned, looking aghast at the yarn clutched in Kahl's hands.
"Please tell me that's not his sweater! Oh, boys!"

Kneeling, she coaxed the
ragged bundle from Kahl and held it out in both hands. "Why?" she
asked him, her voice raspy with incredulity.

"We're bored."

"Real bored," Kevin put in,
folding his arms against his chest.

"Why didn't you stop them?"
she asked.

He shrugged. "I'm not the
adult around here."

Closing her eyes, Laura
buried her face into the remains of the sweater.

"Don't cry," Alby said in a
small voice, patting his aunt's thigh.

Laura lifted her head. "I'm
not crying. I'm upset. I simply don't relish another
confrontation—"

"Burgers."

Blankly, she looked at
Kahl.

"Mustard, ketchup and
relish." He grinned and patted his stomach. "I'm
hungry."

"Okay, we're outta here,"
she said, standing. "Our suitcases are still in the trunk of the
car. We'll have to take some extra sweaters and socks...." She
looked around the room as if uncertain about what to do first.
"Shoes on?"

After a quick inspection,
she helped the boys into their coats then went to a birch wardrobe
and removed her own. Slipping into it, she watched the boys group
in front of her.

"Now we have to be very
quiet. We don't want to awaken Mr. Ingliss."

"Where's the
ghost?"

Kahl's question took her
aback. "While I was sleeping yesterday, did Mr. Ingliss tell you a
ghost story?"

"Naw. We seen
him."

She looked at Kevin with a
frown. "You saw a ghost?"

"Yep," Alby pouted. "He
scared me."

"Big ugly sucker," Kevin
said with a feigned shudder. "Roan said he would have the ghost
kill us if we didn't be good."

"Yeah," Kahl affirmed,
glancing at his brothers. "Kill us. And he meant it,
too."

Angrier than she'd ever
been, Laura took Alby's hand and headed toward the door to the
hall. "Stay close behind me. And not a sound.
Understand?"

"We're not dumb, you know,"
Kevin snipped.

"You're also not the most
obedient children on the planet," she retorted as she drew Alby
into the hall.

Kevin slammed the bedroom
door behind him, causing Laura's nerves to jump. Delivering all
three boys a scolding look, she began to tiptoe down the hall. It
wasn't until they reached the top of the stairs did she notice
something dangling from beneath Kahl's down-filled coat.

"Why didn't you leave this
behind?" she asked in a whisper as she reached up under the coat
and withdrew the tangled yarn.

"I want it!"

"Shhh!" She peered down the
staircase then frowned at the boys. "Quiet. Stay behind
me."

During the cautious descent,
Kevin imitated a monkey. Hands clasped over their mouths, his
brothers tried not to laugh aloud. When Laura reached the first
floor landing and turned in time to witness Kevin's actions, she
reached out, took a firm hold on his arm, and drew him to her
side.

"Knock it off," she warned
in a whisper.

"What about breakfast, huh?"
he asked in a hushed tone.

Casting the closed parlor
door a worried look, she reluctantly nodded. "Okay, okay. But be
very, very quiet."

Not knowing the secondary
hall also led to the kitchen, she ushered the boys through the
parlor. Midway across the dining room, an appetizing aroma stopped
her cold.

"I smell eggs," Kahl
beamed.

Laura grimaced. She was
about to turn back in the direction of the hall when the kitchen
door swung open. Roan ambled into the room, plates of steaming food
carried in each hand. He offered the motionless group an abrupt nod
of greeting, placed the dishes on the table, and headed back into
the kitchen.

"Me first!" Kevin laughed,
running to one of the high-backed chairs.

"Naw, you piglet!" Kahl
cried, beelining for the chair in front of the second
plate.

Numbly, Laura lifted Alby
and positioned him on her left hip. She remained perfectly still
when Roan returned with two more plates and set them on the table.
Then he abruptly walked toward her, his hands held out. Without the
slightest idea of what prompted her action, she twisted to one
side, drawing Alby from Roan's immediate reach.

Roan stopped and placed his
hands on his hips. His eyebrows drew down in a scowl.

Laura couldn't help but look
over his attire.

Same slacks. Same dingy
socks. A plain white half apron ridiculously hiked up beneath his
armpits.

"Do you mean to starve him?"
he asked, impatiently tugging the youngest boy from her arms. He
carried Alby to a chair, where he'd earlier stacked two throw
pillows. Laura remained in a stupor when he went into the kitchen
again, returning with three glasses of milk.

"Do you prefer tea or
coffee?" he asked her, the scowl seeming a permanent fixture on his
face.

Giving herself a mental
shake, she jabbed a thumb toward the kitchen door. "I would prefer
a private conversation."

Roan took a moment to look
at each boy. "Eat up, laddies. And spare the china, if you
please."

He walked into the kitchen,
Laura trailing him. When he turned to face her, she closed the wide
door and crossed her arms against the front of her coat.

"Good morn, darlin'," he
drawled flippantly. "Don't you look smashin' this fine
day."

"Drop the
sarcasm."

Arching an eyebrow, he
crossed his arms against his chest. "Yer breakfast's gettin'
cold."

"Is the owner
around?"

Roan glanced about the
kitchen. "Doesn't seem so, does it?"

"The boys told me something
appalling this morning."

He chuckled, "Why aren't I
surprised?"

Laura walked up to him and
jabbed him in the chest with an isolated finger. "Did you, or did
you not, tell the boys a ghost would kill them if they didn't
behave?"

Pursing his lips, he
released a low whistle. "Those weren't exactly ma
words."

"Just what the hell were
your exact words?" she asked heatedly, the green of her eyes
seeming to hold flames behind them.

"Weel...now.... Ah! I
believe I said somethin' abou' a foul breath o' daith." Roan
grinned sourly. "I had ma hands full wi' carryin' you. The lads
weren't exactly cooperatin'."

"You don't frighten children
with—"

A booming shrill cry cut
Laura off, frightening her such that she threw herself into Roan's
arms and buried her face in the apron. Another rang out.

Quaking, fiercely gripping
the cotton fabric, she gasped, "What is that?"

"Those bloody peacocks,"
Roan murmured, overly conscious of his instinctual action to
enclose her slender frame within his hold. Easing his arms to his
sides, he said, "You'll get used to them."

Laura's head shot up. "What?
Oh, no. Oooooooh, no!" She backed up to the dining room door. "I
don't plan to be here long enough to get used to
you!"

Reaching out, Roan gripped
her arm and drew her toward him. The retort about to spring past
his lips died when he noticed a dark green strand of yarn hanging
beneath the hemline of her coat. Without moving her head, Laura
dropped her gaze. His scowled returned as he unfastened the lower
buttons and removed the wadded remains of his sweater. When he
looked incredulously into her face, he was quick to note how pale
she'd become.

"Yer handiwork?"

"Don't be
ridiculous."

"Ah. The
nephews."
He held the yarn to within
an inch of her face. "Bored, were they?"

She offered a feeble
shrug.

Turning abruptly, Roan
deposited the wool in a waste can by the back door. "Ma favorite
sweater." He stood in front of her and crossed his arms again.
"But, hey, we can't have the wee lads bored now, can
we?"

Laura's troubled gaze rose
slowly to meet his eyes. "I'll gladly replace the damn thing when I
can get to a bank."

"Ma Aunt Aggie made it for
me last Christmas."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Well
don't expect me to knit you one."

"Perish the
thought."

"Perish this," she said
angrily, then paled. She looked over her shoulder, murmuring,
"They're awfully quiet." Whirling toward the door, she entered the
dining room, and jerked to a stop. Her hands went up to cover her
face. Roan stepped up behind her then, with a Scottish expletive,
rushed past her to the table.

"The little boogers!" he
exclaimed, his horrified gaze sweeping over the
disaster.

Lowering her hands, Laura
forced her leaden legs to carry her closer.

Food was splattered in every
direction, staining the Irish lace tablecloth, the Oriental carpet
beneath the table, and the east and west walls. Sickened by the
scene, she slowly made her way around the table.

"How could they have made
such a mess in such a short time?"

Roan shook his head then ran
a hand down his face.

"Oh, no," Laura whimpered,
glancing in the direction of a sideboard along the east wall.
Walking to it, she crouched and began to pick up the pieces of a
porcelain Oriental figurine.

"Leave it," Roan ordered,
coming to her side. "We've got to find them before they get into
any mair mischief."

Standing, she placed the
remains atop the sideboard. "Please tell me it isn't an
antique."

"Everthin' here is as old as
dirt," Roan grumbled. Taking her by the arm, he added, "Come wi'
me."

They no sooner entered the
foyer, Kevin's voice rang out, "Hey! Look what I found!"

"The library," Roan said,
dragging Laura along by the hand. Passing through the open sliding
doors, they entered the room to find the oldest boy standing in
front of an opening between two tall bookcases.

"I didn't do nothing," Kevin
sputtered, gaping at the exposed passageway. "It just opened. No
lie! Just...opened!"

Laura stood numbly at the
threshold while Roan rushed to the opening and peered into the
semi-darkness beyond. Looking at Kevin, he asked brusquely, "Kahl
or Alby venture in there?"

"Nope."

"Where are they?" Laura
weakly probed.

Kevin shrugged. "What's in
there, huh? Can we check it out?"

Roan turned to face the boy,
an angry scowl darkening his features. "Where's yer brithers,
lad?"

Kevin passed Laura a
bewildered look. "What's
brithers?"

"Alby and Kahl!" Roan
snapped.

"I dunno. They took
off."

Pulling the panel shut, Roan
gave it a push to reassure himself that it would remain
closed.

He walked up to Kevin. "Off
where? Ou'side?"

"Naw. I heard them running
up the stairs."

"Don't let him ou' o' yer
sight," Roan growled at Laura, then stormed out of the
room.

With Kevin's hand tightly
clasped within her own, Laura silently followed Roan. Every time he
shouted one of the boys' names, or slammed a door shut to a room
he'd finished searching, she winced. Tugging Kevin behind her, she
ascended the staircase with lessening enthusiasm. Roan dashed down
the hall to their right, while she remained posted at the top of
the landing.

"Kahl! Alby! Come ou', you
little boogers!"

A second, a third door
slammed home. "It’s no' funny, you little monsters! Come
ou'!"

From off to Laura's left,
she heard low whimpering. Angling her head as though to keen her
hearing, she waited a moment longer then went to one of the doors
and pressed an ear to it.

She tried the knob.
Locked.

"Alby? Alby, are you in
there?"

Loud sobs came in
response.

"Roan! He's locked in this
room!"

While Roan ran toward her,
she repeatedly tried to twist the knob.

"Here, let me," he said
gruffly.

When he also couldn't get it
to unlatch, he plowed a shoulder against the heavy wood. "Dammit!
Lannie, do somethin'!"

Laura experienced
lightheadedness when the door silently opened.

"Wow," Kevin breathed in
awe.

Alby charged out of the room
and squealed in protest when Roan scooped him up into his arms.
"Ye're makin' an old mon ou' o' me, lad," he chided. "Now where's
the ither one?"

Squirming, his arms held out
to Laura, Alby screeched at the top of his lungs. Before either
adult could regain their wits, Kahl ran from behind a heavy velvet
drape at the end of the hall.