The Last Stand (Book 3) (The Repentant Demon Trilogy) (6 page)

“We've got soda in the fridge,” said Abigail.  “Or milk, tea, water.  Whatever you want them to have. 
I’m sure Stephen will want a new drink, too… if not a fresh shirt to put on.”

“I think it's time
our little battalion
get settled in over at our compound,” joked Mike, trying to mimic the stern voice of Agent Foley.  “We still have to set up our site, connect the utilities, and arrange everything for the night.  We've got a
dog who
is
completely
exhausted, and I might
end up having
to carry him if he falls asleep.  Sarge is a very sound sleeper.  And this cold weather here is hard on him.  He could easily run and frolic himself into a heart attack
considering his age and the extra weight he is carrying.”

Sarge pulled his hefty body out from under the table, having heard the sound of his name.  He could tell by all the eyes upon him that he had become the topic of conversation.  That thrilled his rumpled rolls of flesh with quivering jiggles of delight.

The kids begged, insisting
again
that they were dying of thirst, so Abigail gave them all cans of soda to take with them.  She also explained that they should pick up Sarge's droppings, warning them about the bears, wolves, and other dangers nearby.  Abigail
worried that
a dog with such short legs and stubby body would not be able to outrun any kind of predator.  Her second thought was that both she and Ruthie might likewise become physically challenged in the same way, only Ruthie was
near the end of her time.
  Perhaps she was
only
travel weary, but
her
face looked like
that of
a woman ready to give birth any minute.  It must have been so hard on her, leaving her doctor behind, as well as the hospital where she planned to give birth and probably a completely prepared baby nursery.

As the crowd left, Abigail noticed that it was after five.  They would soon be leaving to have chicken and dumplin's with the McFarlands.  She realized too late that the Edwards family would probably
have been
happy to puppy-sit Angel.  Mike was a dog-lover, they knew that.  And they could
always
return the favor and take care of Sarge for them sometime.  Tonight though, Angel would go with them on their dinner date.  She was probably so worn out from playing with the kids, she'd sleep on someone's lap all evening.  But Angel was not destined to have such a peaceful end to her day.

*   *   *

As Cal and Abigail entered the
open doorway
, both Uma and Brady McFarland were standing to greet them. 

“Welcome to the McFarland Lodge,” said Brady, as they entered.  “That’s what it has affectionately been called by the families who have vacationed at the cabin over the years.  We’ve also used our living room for
community meetings involving both state and local agencies. 
We’re always happy to have company.” 
Brady had
once
been involved in local
community work
, especially anything that concerned environmental issues. 

The stone fireplace wall towered two stories high at the rear of the structure, while
one
side wall flanked an open second floor hallway to guest bedrooms.  Everything was made of logs, natural woods, and rock from the
area
surroundings.  The colors were dark, rich, and masculine—deep blues, greens, and maroons.  The striking staircase was made completely from rough-hewn logs.  A conversation area was formed from three large leather sofas circling a
giant
coffee table made from an enormous
slice from
a fallen tree which included roots that stood as support legs.  An actual bearskin rug lay in front of the five-foot wide fireplace which glowed with warming lights
that flickered
against the pewter mugs
lining
the mantle.

Cal and Abigail
apologized for bringing their dog, and were quickly put at ease by the couple who had already been charmed by her sweet face during their encounter
of
the previous day when Brady
had
rescued her from her lonely crate. 
They cooed at the dog and promising a cup of broth for Angel, who was wiggling her tail joyously over seeing her new friends again so soon.

“She does remind you of an angel,” said Brady, “
her
wispy, white fur kind of looks like feathers, and of course she has an angelic little face.”

“That's what we thought, too,” said Abigail, reaching to take Uma's outstretched hand
as a gesture of friendly welcome.

When Uma finally met
Abigail
eye to eye, she froze dead in her tracks, obviously stunned looking into her face.  It made Abigail more than a little uncomfortable.  The woman turned white, as if she'd seen a ghost.

“Never mind Uma's reaction,” explained Brady, “it's your green eyes.  She does this every time we meet some young woman with green eyes.  Luckily it doesn't happen often.”

“I'm sorry if they're that alarming,” said Abigail, joking.

“They're strikingly beautiful eyes,” said Uma.  “just like my daughter's eyes.”

“Uma lost a daughter a long time ago,” her husband apologized.  “She's always looking for her.”

“Oh, I'm sorry for your loss,” said Abigail, “and I'm sorry I had to remind you of her.”

“It's something you never get over,” she said, “losing a child.  It's affected my whole life, actually for the better, in the long run.  So enough about that, let's sit down and eat.  Hope you're starving because I don't know how to make a little bit of anything.”

“Yep,” added Brady, “Uma's gone all out and made cheese biscuits, too.  I hardly ever get those anymore.”

“That's because you don't need them anymore,” teased Uma, “You know what the doctor said.  He's a diabetic,” she explained.  “Diabetics need to be extra careful about high cholesterol.  He probably shouldn't be having the chicken n' dumplin's either.  But this is a special occasion, meeting our new neighbors and all.”

As they
seated themselves
at the
small square wooden
table, Uma and Abigail
took
one side, while Brady and Cal
sat across from them
.  The two men stared at the two women
facing
them thinking the exact same thing.  They turned toward each other in recognition
of their shared thoughts,
then looked back again at the women.

“What's the matter with you two,” said Abigail.  “Do we have smudges on our faces, or what?”

“It's not just the eyes,” said Brady, “the two of you are different aged versions of each other.  It's uncanny.  Your jawbones, your noses, even your mouths are identical.”

“He's right,” added Cal, “You've got the same-shaped eyebrows, the same cute, up-turned noses.”

The two women
looked at each other
, seeing
what had been so obvious to their husbands.
  Uma started to react very emotionally, crying into her napkin.  Abigail felt very uncomfortable, hardly able to believe what she was thinking could
possibly
be true.

“My biological mother's name was Uma,” she said
quietly
, beginning to show a sense of fearfulness and dread.  “I never thought much about the coincidence, since I've already come across a connection to another Rayetta just today.  It is an uncommon name, but you're from Wyoming.  I've never lived outside Saint Louis.”

“Abigail Rayetta Kennedy,” said Uma, her eyes filling with tears.  “That was my daughter's name, though we called her Sunshine in the commune where we lived.  I used to sing to her...”

“
You Are My Sunshine
,” stated Abigail, not happily.  “I remember that, and the name—which I hated, by the way.  But your name is McFarland.”

“Your father died in prison, dear,” said Uma.  “I married Brady a few years after I did my time.  And then I tried to find you, but I didn't have much money, and it was a closed adoption.”

“I had a very good home,” said Abigail, implying that she was glad not to have been found
by her birth mother
.  “The Fitzgerald’s were a wonderful family, and they gave me a stable life, raising me in
the
church, and that is the woman I will always think of as my mother.”

“I understand that,” said Uma.  “I'm relieved that you were loved.  That's all I
ever
wanted to know, really.  That's what's tortured me through the years… not knowing
if you were all right.
  I could never hope that you would ever forgive me for what I did.  I don't expect that.”

“I'm sorry,” said Abigail, upset and overwhelmed by her emotions, “I have to go.  This is too much for me to deal with right now.”

Uma got up and ran to another room, while Brady got their coats and Abigail gathered Angel into her arms.  She knew she was being rude, but she couldn't help herself.

“I'm sorry,” said Cal, “maybe after a while, when she's had some time to think.”

“I understand,” said Brady, “this has got to be hard.  Just go home and take good care of her.”

As they walked the quarter-mile path down to their cabin, Cal and Abigail did not talk, although it was obvious they were spewing over with things unsaid.  It was too cold, and the wind urged them to take quick steps to get back into the warmth and peace of their new little home.

“This is unbelievable,” Abigail fumed throwing her coat down on the chair, but being careful to place Angel gently on the floor.  “Of all the places for me to end up.  It's absolutely crazy that we are here right next door to the woman who is responsible for all the worst pain and suffering in my life.”

“It is unbelievable,” said Cal, calmly rubbing her shoulders, “and just so crazy, that I don't see any way that it's an accident.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, turning to face him, “You think Agent Foley knew about this?”

“No, that isn't what I meant,” he answered, “That would be pretty far-fetched, but with everything the way it is, who knows?  What I was saying was that maybe God arranged this so that you could forgive your mother before she, or you, or all of us die in the Apocalypse that's about to befall this nation and this world.”

“You're right,” she admitted thoughtfully, “I do need to forgive her.  I thought I had, but I was kidding myself.  That isn't how I felt when I recognized her.  God, help me.  What if I can't?”

“You helped a demon to understand forgiveness,” he said, “Through you, God has done the impossible and forgiven a demon.  So what you're asked to do now shouldn't be as hard as that.”

“You're right again, Cal,” said Abigail, rushing to grab her coat and the dog.  “Do you want to stay here with Angel?  Or, I can take her with me.”

“You're not walking up there by yourself,” he said, re-zipping his coat, “It's starting to get dark.”

“I would be on a path,” she teased, implying he was being overprotective.

“Right,” he teased back, “wolves and bears know to stay off the path.  Maybe we should put a sign up just to be sure—
Wild animals stay off the path—Humans only.
”

In a matter of five minutes, Abigail was knocking on the McFarlands' door.  Brady answered, very surprised to see them back.

“Did you forget something?” he asked politely.

“Yes, I forgot my manners,” said Abigail, contritely, “Could we come in?  I won't take long.”

He opened the door wide and called for his wife to come back into the living room.  When she cautiously appeared by her husband's side he put his arm around her.  She had obviously been crying.