Season of Fear (27 page)

Danger at Deer Hollow

A Classic Medical/Mystery Romance

by

Christine Bush

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Danger at Deer Hollow

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Warning at Eagle's Watch

A Classic Medical/Mystery Romance

by

Christine Bush

Excerpt from

Warning at Eagle's Watch

A Classic Medical/Mystery Romance

by

Christine Bush

WARNING AT EAGLE'S WATCH

Reviews

"A sweet classic romance woven with mystery. Christine Bush at her best!"

~Abby Shuey

~

WHAT OTHER READERS ARE SAYING:

"...a nice easy read"

"Overall, it was a good read and I would read other books by this author."

"...suspenseful, with a twist I would have never seen coming."

Chapter 1

Hillary downshifted her little green Volkswagen to relieve the noisy strain of the engine as the road ahead of her climbed steadily. As the gears meshed again, the engine sounded a little better, though the car remained reluctant to continue the long ascent. Like Hillary herself.

She sighed quietly and tossed her head, relaxing the tense muscles in the back of her neck. Her shoulder-length red hair bounced softly with the movement and then fell back into place.

Well, the trip would soon be over. She'd soon be there. She tried to ignore the little knot that was tightening in the pit of her stomach.

For hours she had driven the little green car up the jagged coastline of New England, following the route she had carefully marked on the road map that lay on the seat beside her. She was in Maine now, and soon she would be entering the town of Highpoint. Eagle's Watch was supposed to be just a few miles beyond.

Eagle's Watch. It
was a
place she had never even heard of until three short days ago. A place that would now be her home for an indefinite period of time.

She felt as if someone were holding a downy pillow over her freckled face smothering the life out of her. She felt trapped.

And how had this happened to Hillary Holt? What turn of events, what string of circumstances, had brought her here? It really boiled down to a very simple rule of thumb: Nothing in life is free!

When her parents had died, she had been an impressionable fourteen years of age, alone, and penniless. She held no grudge against her parents for the situation she found herself in. Indeed, they had worked all their lives to keep their heads above water, to keep their small and happy family together and healthy.

But it hadn't been easy. And when the fatal car wreck had claimed their lives, Hillary had been left with only her happy remembrances of their love and a large pile of overdue bills. She had been barely old enough to grasp the hopelessness of her unhappy situation.

But her luck had changed. The miracle came in the form of a letter, a letter from a prominent attorney in London to the kindly but frustrated family lawyer who was vainly trying to unravel the chaos that was the Holt family estate.

The London attorney had written, succinctly and formally, that a trust fund for the education of Hillary Holt, recently orphaned daughter of Henry and Mary Holt of Philadelphia, had been established by Miss Matilda Waverly, currently of London.

Miss Matilda, as Hillary soon found out, was a spinster aunt of her mother's. She was supposedly close to eighty, and had nothing to do with any of the family for a number of years. Yet somewhere in the back of her mind, she had a soft spot for her young niece Mary—Hillary's mother, whom she had met only once. There had been no offer of love or a home for the young girl who was Mary's only daughter, no personal contact with Hillary at all during the elaborate legal proceedings.

And yet, at fourteen, she had not questioned or even wondered about the actions. She had happily, and with untold relief, thanked God for the miracle that had given her some direction in her life.

She had been sent off to a private boarding school, followed by a few years of hard study and practice at a prestigious nursing school in Philadelphia. The bills had been wordlessly paid, and Hillary had put every ounce of concentration she could muster into her rigorous training. She had never heard from Miss Matilda again.

Until this week.

In the beginning, Hillary had been curious, grateful, eager to keep in contact with the unknown woman who reopened the doors in a life that she feared had been slammed shut forever. She inquired through her lawyer about an address so she could mail letters, send Christmas cards. But the lawyer quietly and efficiently tabled Hillary's questions and attempts to contact Miss Matilda, saying that the girl's would-be letters were unnecessary, and most probably unwanted.

And so gradually Hillary pushed Miss Matilda to the back of her mind, and had gone on with her life as best she could.

So far she had done well. Hillary's decision to become a nurse came soon after she had settled into her boarding school, and since that time, she had put much effort into the schoolwork that was the basis for her acceptance into the nursing school.

Each passing day in the classrooms and on the hospital wards greatly reinforced Hillary's wonder and her dedication to the medical profession that she had chosen.

Her training was well rounded and complete. She had worked amazingly hard, often denying herself the social pleasures and pastimes that many of her classmates enjoyed.

In her final year, she found the branch of nursing that she knew instinctively was right for her. Surgical nursing. At the first operation she witnessed, sitting high above the table in the glassed-in gallery of the operating room, she felt a feeling of wonderment come over her as she watched the surgeon's deft hands perform his life-saving task. And at his side, cleanly scrubbed and alert, stood his efficient and knowledgeable nurse.

Many of the other girls in the class felt squeamish and uncomfortable observing the procedure. Their nervous giggles and protests had echoed in the halls of the nurses' dormitory late into the night.

But Hillary had been strangely quiet and very sure. She found the type of work that she wanted to do. To see miracles performed daily right before her eyes, to assist in complicated procedures that could save limbs, organs, even life itself. It would be no easy task to be competent and disciplined enough to succeed, she knew. But she was determined to try.

And so she worked almost nonstop for the remainder of her time at nursing school, and had graduated with the highest honors.

Soon afterward, she was offered a position on the staff of her training hospital, working hand in hand with those same surgeons who had taught her so much. It was the chance of a lifetime. A chance to learn more and more, to grow constantly in her skills, a chance to realize her dream. She had been very happy.