Distant sounds filled the floor below as someone entered the house. Abilene couldn’t move. Struck dumb and deaf at the hypnotic way the blood seeped into the plaster’s pores and ran tiny streams over the cracks of the wood-planked floor. Like a poison seeping into her life, she watched silently as the liquid collected into a small puddle and slowly crept to her toes peeking out from beneath her dress.
“Abilene?” The sound of Annalise’s voice had her eyes jerking to the door.
What had she done? Galvanized into action by her daughter-in-law’s approaching footsteps, she pulled the water pitcher from her dresser and doused the wall where the cup had crashed.
Realizing the stupidity of her solution before the arc of water even touched the plaster wall, she watched in helpless horror as crimson faded into pink, spreading into a bigger mess. Her lace apron became speckled with dots of diluted blood. She was utterly hopeless, and in a matter of seconds, her state would be humiliatingly exposed.
She wanted to run and hide. Seventy-eight years old and she actually considered hiding under her bed. What was happening to her? Was she losing her mind?
“Mom?” A soft scratch opened the door. “Abilene?”
She stood motionless as Annalise stepped in.
Her daughter-in-law grinned. “There you are. I wanted to see if you—oh no. What happened?”
Abilene shook her head. “I…” Tears prickled her eyes and her body quaked as reality suddenly became too much, the silence of her life finally too heavy to bear. “I’ve made a mess of everything.” Her face pressed into her palms.
Annalise rushed to wrap her in her arms, but Abilene collapsed to the bloodied floor. A sob ripped from her throat.
“Oh, Mom, no. Don’t do this to yourself. Whatever it is, whatever has happened, we’ll fix it.”
Abilene sobbed like a babe into Anna’s elbow. Her white apron slowly turning pink as the puddle seeped into the fibers of her gown. Anna continued to hold her and whisper soothing words.
She felt atrocious, selfish, and too weak to remain silent. It was as if she could witness herself breaking, fragmenting into tiny pieces she could not collect.
Chapter 6
Blackness flickered, waking Cain’s subconscious. Anna’s voice pulling him into a dream. “Cain?”
His mind searched for the frequency where they connected as if there was one specific plane of existence that belonged only to them.
First appeared the expansive grass, then the satisfying sense of nostalgia that overcame him whenever he returned to the farm. Trees took shape, building a private world around them. There was a glimmer of light, the scent of fresh air, and the always-present honeysuckle fragrance that accompanied Annalise.
And there she was. Always beautiful, with her fiery-golden hair and soft, loving smile.
His brother was a lucky male to have the love of such a loyal woman.
He glanced toward her belly. The child in her womb was growing and this pleased him to no end. He smiled. “How is my brother, beautiful Anna? No doubt he is prouder than the proudest cock on the farm at the sight of you swelling with his seed.”
When she did not immediately laugh at his teasing, Cain looked into her eyes. Something was wrong.
“What is it? What happened? Is it Father?”
Her concern snapped through him. “No, not Jonas. It’s your mom.”
Cain sucked in a breath at the thought of trouble befalling his gentle mother. Although fiercely maternal, his mother was one of the most delicate females he knew. He loved and adored her as completely as only a child could, and he would protect her with his last breath.
“What is it?” He prayed she had not conceived again and lost another babe. “Has she gotten with child? Has she…”
“No.” Anna shook her head, lips pressing tight.
Impatience rolled through him like thunder. “Spit it out, Anna. If something happened, I need to know.”
“Your mother’s sick, Cain.”
“Sick? Our kind does not get sick.” There seemed a curse on his childhood home. “Are her symptoms like Father’s?”
“Not that kind of sick.”
“What other kind is there?”
“I think she suffered a nervous breakdown.”
“I don’t understand. What’s a nervous breakdown?”
“Your father’s illness, not knowing what’s causing him to withdraw, has taken a toll on all of us. We’re concerned but do not want to alert the others until we know more. Your mother won’t tell me exactly what happened between her and your dad, but I walked in on her falling apart. I’m worried for her mental health.”
“What do you mean? My mother does not give in to emotional fits.”
“It’s more than crying. She was hysterical when I found her today. I couldn’t seem to calm her down. She seems to believe whatever’s happening with your father is somehow her fault.”
“What does my father have to say about this?”
“I’m not sure that he cares!” Anna snapped. “I’m sorry, but I’m on your mother’s side with this one.”