Yuletide Peril. Irene Brand

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Yuletide Peril - Irene Brand


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childhood and the responsibilities she’d had to assume for her sister taken all the gaiety from her life? Janice would be a beautiful woman if laughter erased the grimness around her mouth and pleasure brightened her eyes. Fleetingly he wondered what could bring about such a transformation.

      As they left Stanton behind, Brooke immediately voiced her excitement about the school and her new friend.

      “I like Taylor,” she said at once. “Her parents are divorced, and Taylor and her mother live with their uncle. Taylor wants her uncle to get married. She thinks if he has a wife, her mother will move out, and they can go back to live with Taylor’s dad. I told her that you weren’t married, either.”

      Janice slanted a curious glance at her sister. “Is there a connection between those two statements?”

      “Well, it would be neat if you’d get married, Janice. We could have a dad in the house like other people. And Taylor said her uncle is a really nice man.”

      “I’m sure he is, but I doubt he’d appreciate having his niece find a wife for him.”

      “Did you like him?” Brooke persisted.

      Janice felt her face get warm, and she said, “Oh, let Lance Gordon find his own wife. Marriage isn’t in my plans for the future. Tell me about the school.”

      “It’s awesome. There’s a great big computer lab, a gym and neat classrooms. The school takes two or three field trips every year. The sixth graders usually go to Washington, D.C. I love it already.”

      Janice chatted with her customer and automatically scanned the items the woman placed on the counter. She’d already turned on the closed sign at her SuperMart checkout station. Janice had long ago convinced herself that she could stand anything for five more minutes. She tried to send that message to her back and feet, so they’d hold her erect until she received the customer’s money and sacked her purchases.

      “We’re going to miss you, Janice,” the woman said sincerely. “You’re my favorite clerk.”

      “Thank you,” Janice murmured with a catch in her voice. She’d made many friends at the store during the past three years. She would miss them, and she hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision to move.

      Somewhat apprehensive of the big change a move to Stanton would make in her life, Janice walked quickly to the office to clock out of the store for the last time. She wanted to avoid any last-minute goodbyes to delay her because she still had a few things to do before she could leave Stanton.

      Her co-workers had surprised her with a farewell party the night before and had given her a television, complete with DVD and VCR. She appreciated this evidence of their friendship, but the gift meant that she must rent a small U-Haul trailer to move her belongings, because there wasn’t room in her car for a television. She was pleased with the gift though, for it would be enjoyable for Brooke to have a new television to watch.

      Her intention to slip out of the store without notice was thwarted, however, when her supervisor called, “Here’s a letter for you—came in today’s mail.”

      Janice took the letter, thinking it must be a card from one of the employees who’d missed last night’s party. She stuck the envelope in the pocket of her jeans and waved a general goodbye to her co-workers as she hurried out of the store.

      Janice made her first stop at a garage, and she sat in the car while the mechanic attached a trailer hitch to her car. Fidgeting over this inactivity, Janice remembered the letter in her pocket.

      The wrinkled envelope had no return address, and the postmark was smudged. Letters containing hazardous materials came to mind. She’d heard warnings on television about opening an envelope or package if it looked suspicious. She discounted the idea that an insignificant person like herself would be targeted for a terrorist’s attack, but she decided to be cautious. She stepped outside the car, held the envelope at arm’s length, and opened it with a nail file. No white substance was evident, and she concluded that the message was harmless.

      Unfolding the single sheet of paper, she read it and stared in horror at the words.

      If you know what’s good for you, stay away from Stanton.

      Stunned by the message, Janice staggered to the car, her rapid pulse thudding in her forehead. Slumping in the seat, fearful images built in her mind and her stomach quivered with terror. What kind of prank was this? What difference could it make to anyone if she moved to Stanton?

      After the first wave of fear, anger replaced Janice’s distress and she rationalized the situation. This letter had probably been sent by her father’s relatives still living in the Stanton area. Was this their way of telling her they were angry because the Reid property had passed to her?

      Janice’s stubborn streak was stronger than her fear. She set her jaw and muttered, “They can like it or lump it! I’m moving to Stanton.”

      Her face flushed when the man working on her car said, “What did you say, ma’am?”

      She admitted she was talking to herself, but her embarrassment passed when the mechanic said, “My old daddy talked to himself, too—said he liked to talk to a smart man once in a while.”

      The man’s remark amused her and eased the tension, but the note was unsettling. She fretted about it as she drove toward the Valley of Hope to say goodbye to Miss Caroline. When she turned the curve, and had a bird’s-eye view of the place that had once been her home, Janice paused briefly to survey the area with nostalgia. She had found the first security she’d ever known at VOH, and it was wrenching to leave it all behind. She couldn’t use Miss Caroline as her security blanket forever, but she would always be grateful for the care she’d received at VOH.

      After she’d lost her fiancé in a coal mine accident, Caroline Renault had established the facility forty years ago in northeastern West Virginia. In anticipation of their marriage, her fiancé had named Miss Caroline the beneficiary of his life insurance. She’d added the insurance money to her own fortune and had started VOH with two buildings and a few children. Gas wells on the property provided an income that had helped VOH become self-supporting. Several of Miss Caroline’s family and friends had also contributed liberally to the growth of the facility.

      Through the years VOH had increased to twenty brick buildings, comprising well-equipped elementary and secondary schools. Residents lived in a family atmosphere in several dormitories with adult supervisors. The majority of the teachers lived off-campus.

      Janice had enjoyed the independence she’d had during the three years she’d been away from VOH. But as she slowly approached the buildings, she thought of the time she’d come here as a scared and rebellious teenager. She shuddered to think where she might be today if she hadn’t been sent to VOH.

      Although her mentor had just turned seventy, Janice always considered Miss Caroline an ageless woman. Yet now Janice saw a myriad of fine lines etched on Miss Caroline’s pearl-like complexion. Her hair was totally white, although when Janice had arrived at VOH, her dark hair had only been streaked with gray. But her generous and tender smile hadn’t changed. Janice thought she’d remember the smile longer than anything else about this woman.

      The hand Miss Caroline held out to Janice trembled slightly. “And how did you like Stanton?” she asked, her eyes alight with interest.

      Janice explained about the condition of the property, and added, “Since the house is in such bad shape, maybe I should put it on the market and stay in Willow Creek. At least I have friends here, and I don’t know anyone in Stanton. Am I doing the right thing?”

      “I don’t know,” Miss Caroline said, the interest in her eyes changing to concern. “I believe this is something you have to do. I was aware that you chafed at the restraints we put on you at VOH.”

      Janice stared at her in surprise. “Oh, no, Miss Caroline. You’ll never know how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

      “I know that, but still you didn’t like being under obligation


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