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Death's Bright Angel Part One: the Prophecy
Death's Bright Angel Part One: the Prophecy
Death's Bright Angel Part One: the Prophecy
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Death's Bright Angel Part One: the Prophecy

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Death's Bright Angel, Part One: The Prophecy, is the sequel to Jagged Edges. Four months after the death of Virginia Montgomery, Dr. Glen Abbott is still mourning his young wife's untimely death. Moreover, he is extremely worried about their 3 yr-old daughter, Hannah, who does not understand why her mother is no longer around. Once a bright, precocious child, Hannah has begun to withdraw into herself. Abbott seeks help from Hannah's godfather, John Hanson, the former director of Camps Silverwood and Pinefall. Hanson is quick to theorize that Hannah may be endowed with prenatal memories and that she is keeping secrets and her own council. It soon becomes apparent that Hannah is not regressing but her development is taking an extraordinary turn. With the arrival of Hannah's cousin, Mairi-Lea Hartford, from Braemore, Scotland, the true nature of Hannah's endowment is revealed. Hartford, a Druid High Priestess and the daughter of the late John Hartford, has her own supernatural abilities. She has come to Abbott Hall to mentor Hannah. The child is The Chosen One; a special child with a purpose and with powers unimaginable. Hannah's destiny is to fulfill a Druid Prophecy to avoid the coming Apocalypse, an Extinction Level Event. To Glen Abbott's chagrin, the fate of the planet will rest on the shoulders of his small child.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateDec 14, 2020
ISBN9781665510875
Death's Bright Angel Part One: the Prophecy
Author

Marion Earl MacKenzie

Marion Earl MacKenzie is the pen name for Elaine Bazarian. Miss Bazarian has a Master’s Degree in Biology from Boston University. An avid naturalist, artist and former equestrian, she is now retired and lives in Watertown, Massachusetts with her tortoiseshell cat with no tail.

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    Death's Bright Angel Part One - Marion Earl MacKenzie

    AuthorHouse™

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    Phone: 833-262-8899

    © 2021 Marion Earl Mackenzie. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 12/14/2020

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-1086-8 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-1087-5 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2020924787

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    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    CONTENTS

    Dedication

    The Second Coming

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Chapter Eleven

    Chapter Twelve

    Chapter Thirteen

    Chapter Fourteen

    Chapter Fifteen

    Chapter Sixteen

    Chapter Seventeen

    Chapter Eighteen

    Chapter Nineteen

    Chapter Twenty

    Chapter Twenty-One

    Chapter Twenty-Two

    Chapter Twenty-Three

    Chapter Twenty-Four

    Chapter Twenty-Five

    Chapter Twenty-Six

    Chapter Twenty-Seven

    Chapter Twenty-Eight

    Chapter Twenty-Nine

    Chapter Thirty

    Chapter Thirty-One

    Chapter Thirty-Two

    Chapter Thirty-Three

    Chapter Thirty-Four

    DEDICATION

    For Smiley

    A 30-year partnership that taught me Love, Patience and Perseverance!

    THE SECOND COMING

    "Turning and turning in the widening gyre

    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

    The best lack all conviction, while the worst

    Are full of passionate intensity.

    Surely some revelation is at hand;

    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

    Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert

    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

    A gaze as blank and pitiless as the sun,

    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

    Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

    The darkness drops again; but now I know

    That twenty centuries of stony sleep

    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

    Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?"

    William Butler Yeats 1919

    CHAPTER ONE

    5 OCTOBER 2018

    Glen Abbott, M.D. tossed and turned for the hundredth time. He glanced at the bedside clock and frowned. It was a little after two o’clock in the morning and he had been unable to sleep. Again. Insomnia was taking its toll on him. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep for several months now. Even before the death of his wife, Virginia, he hadn’t been sleeping particularly well. But since her passing last June, his sleep had become even more problematic. REM sleep eluded him most nights. And when he was able to fall asleep, he dreamt strange dreams that were often disturbing and sometimes even terrifying.

    Most nights he just lay awake with his memories, reliving his last hours with Virginia. It was a heartbreaking doo-loop, replaying over and over again in his head, the events that had led up to her death. Unsettling. The aneurysm in her brain had ruptured shortly before her 32nd birthday and she had ended up in a coma in a permanent vegetative state. In spite of heroic medical efforts to save her, her situation was hopeless and everyone (her family and friends) had understood that this condition was the last thing she ever wanted. So, he had made the difficult decision to remove life support and he had brought her home to Abbott Hall. She had died in his arms several days later.

    Abbott turned onto his right side and reached out to touch the empty place in his bed where Virginia had lain next to him for almost three years. He ran his hand across the coverlet, closed his eyes and remembered the warmth and nearness of her slender body. His heart ached for her. He had yet to shed all his tears for her and once again, the tears welled-up in his eyes and spilled onto his pillow. He had known that losing her would create a huge, empty hole in his heart, but he hadn’t conceived that it would so engulf him. It was a struggle for him each and every day without her.

    He was, he knew, clinically depressed and had been for some time. But he also knew that he needed to keep himself together for the sake of their daughter, Hannah. She was only 3-years old and had not yet grasped the concept of death. She understood that her mother was no longer around but didn’t understand why. And Hannah had recently begun to show signs of psychological distress. She didn’t want to eat; she had begun to have bad dreams and would awake some nights crying out for her mother. And she had wet her bed on a number of occasions even though she was toilet-trained. Each and every day she asked her father when her Mummy was coming home. Abbott had tried to explain to her that her Mummy had been very sick and could not get better. And that, as a result, she had to go far away and was not able to return. But Hannah either did not understand or refused to accept the current state of affairs. Her bad dreams and incontinence were clearly symptoms of emotional distress, perhaps also feelings of abandonment. Glen’s sister, Betsy Stone, felt it was too soon to think about taking her to a child psychologist, but Abbott wasn’t so sure. Hannah was clearly afraid that her father might one day also disappear and never return. She had become clingy and was showing signs of regression in her development. Where before she would babble non-stop to her herself and her toys, she now spoke only when spoken to. Abbott had begun to secretly fear that Hannah was perhaps showing signs of the early onset of autism. She had begun to avoid eye contact and appeared to be focused on her inward self rather than the world around her. She had always been a bright, energetic child, curious about the world around her, but lately she had begun to withdraw into herself.

    Given all of the above, it was obvious that under the present conditions, Abbott could not even contemplate a return to medical practice. For the most part, he was content to be a stay-at-home daddy and raise Hannah as a single parent. But at some point, he would have to make a decision about the future for Hannah and himself.

    Abbott wiped the tears from his eyes and sighed. He turned onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling in the master bedroom at Abbott Hall. Virginia, he whispered softly, I miss you so very much. We all miss you. I wish you were still here with us. I wish we’d had more time together. I feel so damn lost without you. Your death has cast a dark shadow over our lives. It’s like being on the dark side of the moon and never seeing the light or feeling the warmth of the sun….

    Abbott turned again onto his side and reached out to touch the space next to him. But it was empty, just like the space in his heart…

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    Glen Abbott stood in the kitchen at Abbott Hall and stared out at Abbott Lake, shrouded in an early morning mist. The outside temperature was only about 42 degrees that morning but the lake was still warm from the summer months, so a low ground fog had developed and hung over the surface of the water, obscuring much of the area. Abbott sipped his morning cup of coffee and turned as he heard his sister Betsy come down from the second floor. She came into the kitchen carrying Hannah who was still wiping the sleep from her eyes with her tiny fist.

    Good-morning, Hannah-Banana, Abbott said with a smile as he set his cup aside and took his daughter from his sister. How’s my big girl this morning? He asked giving her a hug and a kiss.

    Hannah didn’t answer him, just looked all around the kitchen, her bright blue eyes searching. Abbott looked at his sister and Betsy just shrugged. He kissed his daughter’s cheek again and hefted the child in his arms. A few months ago, she had weighed almost thirty-five pounds but she was steadily losing weight and he could feel it when he held her. Abbott brought her across to the table and sat down with her in his lap. Want some breakfast, Hannah? he asked. I made your favorite, blueberry pancakes with maple syrup!

    Hannah shook her head, holding tightly to the little stuffed pink pony that she had had from birth. She rested her head against her father’s neck and closed her eyes, clinging to him. She was clearly depressed. Abbott looked up at his sister. Was she dry?

    Betsy shook her head. No.

    Abbott frowned and held her gently in his lap. Hannah, you used to love my pancakes covered with maple syrup.

    Betsy crossed to the stove and uncovered the pancakes that her brother had made for their breakfast. She brought a dish to the table and cut the pancake up into small, bite-sized pieces. Abbott took a fork off the table and speared a slice of the pancake, dripping with syrup. He offered it to his daughter but she shook her head and refused to open her mouth. Abbott placed the morsel into his mouth and smacked his lips. H’m. Tastes good. He took up another slice of the pancake and again offered it to her. Won’t you have some? Hannah again refused to eat. Abbott looked up at Betsy. Any suggestions?

    Betsy shrugged and turned to the child. Hannah, is there something special you would like to have for breakfast?

    Hannah shook her head. A definite no.

    Abbott played the reward card. "Hannah, after we have breakfast, we’ll go down to the barn and feed Crossfire some cookies."

    No! she responded angrily. Hannah squirmed in his lap and Abbott set her down on the chair next to him. But she promptly got down from the chair and crossed to the slider. She stood at the door to the deck and looked out, her hands leaving smudge marks on the glass, her eyes intently searching the deck and landscape beyond.

    Betsy looked at her brother as she sat down at the table across from him with a cup of coffee and a plate of cakes. Did you get any sleep last night? she asked.

    A little. He placed his head in his hand and looked at his daughter.

    You look like hell, Glen.

    He took a deep breath and let it out. I’m worried about her, he said softly. She’s losing weight. I don’t know what to do, Bets. It’s been a battle to get food into her the last few weeks.

    Yes. Even her favorite foods don’t seem to interest her. She lowered her voice to a whisper. She seems to be constantly…distracted. She keeps looking around her as if she’s searching for something.

    Or someone, he thought as he sipped his coffee. Yes. I’ve noticed that. She seems…expectant, like she’s convinced that her mother is about to walk back through the door. It’s been almost four months now and she still can’t seem to accept that Virginia is not coming back.

    Betsy grimaced. She’s stubborn, Glen. Just like her mother. She refuses to accept that Ginny is gone forever. And as time goes on, it’s affecting everything she says and does. She paused. I’d be willing to bet that her not eating is somehow tied to her belief that her mother will soon be returning and then all will once again be right with her world.

    Abbott pushed the plate of pancakes away from him and put his head down on the table, resting on his arms. She’s not the only one missing her mother.

    Betsy reached across and placed her hand on his head. Glen…. she stopped, then said gently, You have to let her go.

    He raised his head and nodded. I know. He glanced at Hannah standing at the slider. Hannah, he called to her.

    She turned and looked at her father with her bright blue eyes.

    Come and have your breakfast, please.

    She turned back to the slider and continued to look at the world beyond the door. Her posture spoke volumes. Abbott rose to his feet and crossed to her. He picked her up and swung her around in an arc, trying to cajole her and lighten her mood. Banana, your breakfast is getting cold, he said bringing her back to the table and sitting her down next to him. He pushed the plate of pancakes in front of her and held a slice up to her mouth. Hannah shook her head stubbornly. "No rides on Crossfire unless you eat your breakfast, Hannah, he said trying the bribery" approach.

    But Hannah could not be bribed or cajoled into eating her breakfast and began to cry, not just a whimper but a wail that was ear-piercing. Abbott couldn’t bear to hear her cry. He shook his head in frustration, rose from the table and walked away, leaving his sister to try to deal with Hannah. Betsy rose and crossed to Hannah, picked her up and hugged her, trying to calm her. Oh, Hannah, she said gently, don’t cry. Everything’s going to be all right. Aunt Betsy is here and we’ll have lots of time together.

    I want my mummy, she cried pitifully.

    Betsy’s eyes began to tear. I know, precious. I know how much you miss her. Your daddy and I miss her, too.

    Hannah continued to cry for a few more minutes, then squirmed to get down. Betsy set her down and Hannah immediately went back to stand in front of the slider, her pink pony clutched in her hand. Betsy watched as the child stared out through the glass, searching in vain for that which she could never have.

    John Hanson, the former Director of Camps Silverwood and Pinefall and Hannah Talbot’s Godfather, was just about to leave his house in Newport, Vermont, for school when his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and answered the call. Hi, Glen. How are you?

    Abbott rubbed his eyes wearily. I’m okay. I’m sorry to call you so early but I was hoping to catch you before you left for school.

    I was just on my way out. What’s up?

    It’s Hannah. She’s been emotionally distressed the last couple of weeks and she seems to be getting worse. She’s been having bad dreams and some incontinence and now she’s refusing to eat and losing weight. I’m at my wit’s end, John. My sister Betsy came up from Boston a couple of days ago to see if Hannah would respond to her but even her presence doesn’t seem to help. I was hoping maybe…you could spare a few days and come for a visit. Hannah has always responded to you, even when Virginia and I couldn’t get her to eat. You’ve always been able to work some god-daddy magic on her. I know it’s an imposition, but short of taking her to a child psychologist, I don’t know what else to try.

    John Hanson sat down at his kitchen table. I’m sorry to hear this, Glen. Tell me more.

    She’s been waking up at night crying, calling for Virginia. She was toilet-trained at 26 months but now she’s occasionally incontinent at night. She’s refusing to eat much of anything, even her favorite foods. And no amount of bribery or cajoling seems to make any difference. She clearly seems to be regressing in her development. Betsy and I are convinced that Hannah is feeling abandoned by Virginia’s absence. She’s constantly searching the house and grounds. We believe she’s looking for her mother, waiting for her to return. She seems to be fixated on that to the exclusion of all else.

    John Hanson shook his head sadly. I see. He paused, pensive for a moment. I suspect you’re right, though. Hannah has not been able to accept that her mother is gone forever. Remember, after Ginny fell down the stairs and broke her neck, she was in the hospital for almost 3 months and Hannah only saw her occasionally during that time. I’m willing to bet that Hannah remembers her mother’s absence all those months and is expecting her to return again like she did before.

    Yes, Abbott agreed sadly. But it’s been four months, John. I’ve tried to explain to her that her mother cannot come home. But she’s stubborn, just like Virginia was, and refuses to accept it.

    Hanson nodded. That’s heartbreaking, Glen. It must be difficult for you as well, seeing Hannah searching for her mother.

    Yes, Abbott said running his hand through his hair. Very.

    Hanson glanced at his watch. Okay. It’s Friday and there’s early dismissal today because of the Columbus Day weekend coming up. So, I can probably make it to Stafford by six o’clock tonight.

    John, that would be very much appreciated. I’ll have May get a room ready for you.

    All right, then. I’ll look forward to seeing you tonight.

    Thank you. Have a good day and a safe trip, John.

    Hanson hung up and picked up his briefcase. He would be a little late getting to class this morning, but it didn’t matter. The news from Glen Abbott in Stafford, NH, was disturbing. He had only seen his godchild three times since her mother had died. He wished he lived closer so that he could be more involved in her life because Hannah and he had always had a special bond, an unusually good rapport. It was disturbing to hear that the child seemed to be regressing and that both Glen and Betsy were unsuccessful in turning things around. Oh, well, he thought as he hurried to his van, he would soon see for himself what was going on with the child.

    Abbott ended his call and returned to the kitchen. Betsy was just finishing her breakfast and Hannah was still sitting in front of the slider, looking out. Abbott sat down across from his sister and spoke quietly so that his daughter wouldn’t hear him. I just got off the phone with John Hanson. He’s coming tonight to spend the weekend. Maybe he can work some god-daddy magic on her.

    Betsy nodded. Let’s hope.

    John had an interesting theory. He said perhaps Hannah remembers Virginia’s long absence after she fell and broke her neck. John said maybe Hannah believes her mother’s absence is like that time she was hospitalized all those months and that sooner or later she will come home.

    Betsy shrugged. Perhaps. But I think there’s more to it than that, Glen. I don’t recall Hannah having bad dreams and refusing to eat when Virginia was hospitalized that time.

    No. But she was able to visit her in the hospital a few times.

    Perhaps. But I think there has to be something else responsible for her behavior.

    Abbott took a deep breath. Well, if John can’t re-establish his rapport with her, then I’ll have to take her to a child psychologist to see if we can’t get to the bottom of this.

    Have you given any thought to what I suggested?

    You mean moving back to Boston?

    She nodded.

    I’ve thought about it. Virginia wanted very much to raise Hannah here, so that she could have the benefit of the natural world around her and protect her from all the violence and insanity going on in the world these days.

    I understand. But maybe there are just too many memories here for both of you. If you moved back to JP, I could help take care of Hannah during the day and you might be able to work part-time at Spaulding Rehab like you did before. She paused. But even if you didn’t go back to Spaulding, it would be a change for you and Hannah and maybe that would help you both, not to be surrounded constantly by your memories of life here with Virginia.

    Glen shrugged. "Perhaps. But there’s also the issue of Crossfire. Hannah is very attached to him and I wouldn’t want to separate them."

    You could always bring Hannah back on weekends to spend time with the horse.

    I suppose that could work, assuming there’s someone here to take care of him during the week.

    You don’t think that Stephi will want to stay here if you and Hannah leave?

    No. It’s not that. Stephi will be leaving Stafford soon. After she won the Rolex Kentucky Horse Trials with the Brat last April, Fair Hill in Maryland and then came in second at the World Equestrian Games in Tryon, North Carolina a few weeks ago, she was awarded a grant by the United States Equestrian Team Foundation to train with the three-day team at the USET headquarters in Gladstone, New Jersey this winter. And if the training sessions there go well, she will probably end up in Europe with the Brat. She’s already been offered a free ride with the team to go to England to compete at Badminton next spring. And that’s just for starters.

    Wow! You mentioned that the Brat had been winning everything she had taken him to. But I had no idea they were that good.

    "Stephi says that the Brat is the best horse she has ever ridden. She says he’s also the most talented horse she’s ever known and that he’s right up there with some of the other great three-day event horses. So, it seems inevitable that Stephi will be leaving Stafford with the Brat and Pepe. She told me she has contacted a couple of people who might be interested in taking care of the barn and Crossfire in her absence in exchange for room and board."

    It seems like everything is changing, Betsy said quietly.

    Yes. He paused. Greg has asked me to take over the Stafford Holistic Center programs for the coming year. His practice in Concord has grown exponentially in the last year and he doesn’t have any free time to devote to the Holistic Center. So he wants me to take over as Director.

    Is that something you want to do, Glen?

    I wouldn’t mind doing it. Assuming, of course, that Hannah’s issues can be resolved. Abbott rose to his feet and crossed to his daughter, sitting in front of the slider. "Hannah, do you want to go to the barn and feed Cross some cookies?"

    She looked up at her father and nodded vigorously.

    Okay, he said as he bent and picked her up. Let’s put on your coat and hat and we’ll go down to the barn.

    Hannah wrapped her arms around her father and nestled her head against his neck. Daddy..? she whispered in his ear.

    What is it, sweetheart?

    But Hannah didn’t respond to his question. She just closed her eyes and clung more tightly to him. Abbott stood for a moment holding his daughter in his arms, then looked at his sister. Betsy just shook her head sadly. He took a deep breath and carried her to the hall closet so that he could retrieve her coat and hat before venturing outside and down to the barn to feed Crossfire his morning treats.

    Glen Abbott, holding tightly to his daughter’s left hand, walked down the path to the barn at Abbott Hall. The fog had begun to lift and the sun was poking holes through the low cloud, steadily brightening the morning. Hannah, skipped happily alongside him. Glen looked down at her and smiled. She was very much attached to his wife’s old horse and looked forward each day to having a ride on Cross’ broad back and feeding him some horse cookies. Hannah’s love for the horse was the only thing that hadn’t really changed in the last few weeks. Being in the barn and around Crossfire and the other horses was about the only thing that brought a smile to her face these days.

    Stephanie Myers had the barn doors wide open and was just finishing mucking the stalls when they arrived. She leaned on her pitchfork, smiled and greeted them warmly.

    Good-morning, Glen! Hi, Hannah! How are you today?

    Fine! Hannah replied happily. She looked up at Stephi, held up her little pink pony to her and said, Pumpkin wants her cookies!

    Ah, I’ll just bet she does! Stephi said with a smile. "But you’ll have to feed Cross and Pepe, too. Okay?"

    Okay!

    Stephi smiled at Glen; they played the same game every morning. She went into the feed room and came back with a handful of Mrs. Pastures Cookies. Glen reached down and picked Hannah up, holding her so she could reach Cross’ mouth as he hung his head over his Dutch door. He was a big horse, over 16.3 hands, but the old thoroughbred was as gentle as a lamb. Stephi handed a cookie to Hannah and she promptly fed it to Crossfire. Like the gentleman that he was, he softly lipped up the treat from her outstretched palm and Hannah giggled. Another cookie, another giggle. Then it was Pepe’s turn. Hannah fed the little bay quarter horse two cookies, giggling happily. There were three cookies left. Stephi gave her horse, the Brat, a cookie and Hannah fed the last two treats to Cross and Pepe (she wasn’t allowed to feed the Brat because he had always had a tendency to nip and still could be quite unpredictable).

    Stephi glanced at Glen and saw the weariness on his face and in his eyes. She knew that things hadn’t been going well for several weeks. Has Betsy’s presence helped at all? she asked as she began to hay the horses.

    No. I called John this morning. He’s coming tonight to spend the weekend.

    Stephi’s eyes lit up. Oh, it’ll be so good to see him again! I miss Pappy.

    Abbott nodded. Yes. I’m hoping he can work some of his god-daddy magic.

    Stephi nodded. She paused and looked at Hannah, sitting contentedly on a bale of hay, pretending to feed her pink pony, Pumpkin, some wisps of hay. Hannah, she said to her, "do you want to ride Cross later today?"

    Yes! she replied loudly.

    Stephi turned back to Abbott with a smile. What time would you like Madam’s mount to be ready?

    How about just after lunch? Maybe we can use the ride as a bargaining chip.

    I hear you. Okay. By the way, I’ve heard from one of my friends about taking over the barn in my absence. Kit says she’d be very interested. I’m hoping she can come up next week so we can discuss the job and you can interview her.

    What can you tell me about her?

    Stephi shrugged. I’ve known her for years. We went through pony club together and were competitive rivals for a number of years. But she gave up riding and competing when she got married and had a couple of kids. Stephi paused. She’s had some rotten breaks in the last few years and she’s kind of at loose ends just now. Her husband was in the Army Reserves and was deployed to Iraq during the war. He was killed over there by an IED. And her oldest son died of a drug overdose last year.

    Abbott raised an eyebrow. That’s terrible.

    Stephi nodded solemnly. Yes. So, right now she’s looking for some way to reclaim her life. Ginny always said, the best thing for the inside of a person is the outside of a horse. Kit’s hoping that being around horses and working in a barn will help her cope with some of the jagged edges in life that she’s been impaled by.

    Glen nodded. You said she had two children?

    Stephi hesitated, then nodded. Yes. Had. But perhaps it would better for her to tell you about her daughter.

    Okay. Let me know when she can come.

    Righto.

    Abbott went over to the bale of hay and collected his daughter. Come on, Hannah. Let’s go for our morning hike.

    Hannah slid off the bale and took her father’s hand. Since she was a baby, her mother had taken her on hikes through the woods around Abbott Hall and Camps Silverwood and Pinefall. It was a morning ritual that Abbott had continued, weather permitting, after her mother’s passing. He looked down at his daughter. What do you say to Stephi?

    Thank you, Stephi, she said with a giggle.

    You’re welcome, Hannah. We’ll see you a little later.

    Abbott gave her a wink and he and his daughter made their way out of the barn and down the path toward Pinefall.

    CHAPTER TWO

    John Hanson made his way slowly down Lake Road in his minivan and slowed as he came to the entrance road for the former Camp Silverwood. By the headlights of his van, he could see the chain stretched across the dirt road barring access to the property. The sight of the camp’s entrance road brought back a rush of memories. In the 24 years he had run Camps Silverwood and Pinefall, he had amassed many wonderful memories of the summers there; the practical jokes that the counselors played on one another; the camaraderie shared by all and the fun times had by both campers and staff. But there were also some painful memories and it was those that came unbidden and unwanted to his mind as he drove slowly past the entrance road.

    Ginny Montgomery Talbot-Abbott had inherited the property from Glen Abbott’s father the year before. She had been preparing to re-open Silverwood’s summer camp last May but an aneurysm in her brain had ruptured and the summer camp program had been abandoned after her untimely death. The Stafford Holistic Center, located at Camp Silverwood, had made good use of the facilities last summer to hold a variety of weekly and weekend retreats. Hanson had been saddened by Glen Abbott’s decision not to go forward with the outward bound camp for teenage boys and girls that Ginny had worked so hard to set up, but he had understood Abbott’s reasons for pulling the plug. In the aftermath of Ginny’s unexpected death, Abbott had been overwhelmed by grief and the prospect of trying to continue the camp program in her memory while caring for his young daughter.

    John Hanson had looked forward to coming back to Stafford last summer to teach at the outward bound camp. Being in Stafford for the summer would also have allowed him to spend more time with Ginny’s daughter, Hannah, his godchild, whom he truly missed. Ginny and her daughter had always had a special place in his heart. In many ways, Ginny had been like a daughter to him. It had been heart-breaking to witness her death at such a young age.

    John drove slowly down Lake Road thinking about all that had happened in the recent past. A little further on, he turned onto the long, winding driveway that led to Abbott Hall. Not the original Abbott Hall, of course; that had burned to the ground a little over 4 years ago when Fred Jordan, one of Pinefall’s camp counselors, had attempted to kill Glen Abbott and set fire to the mansion to cover his crime. That had been a summer of murder and mayhem and it had forever changed the lives of some of the people closest to him. Ginny had almost died that night along with Abbott. Jerry Talbot, Assistant Director of the camps, had risked his own life to save both of them. Glen Abbott had sustained a traumatic brain injury that required months of rehabilitative therapy to overcome and Ginny had developed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in the aftermath of the horrendous events that had occurred that June. But there were also some good memories of those days. Jerry Talbot had married Ginny six months later and made a name for himself on the Grand Prix Equestrian Circuit. Sadly, his meteoric rise on the Circuit had been cut tragically short when he had died saving Ginny’s life. Fred Jordan had made a last ditch attempt to kill Glen Abbott and Ginny in the courtroom up in Concord, NH, after he had received a lengthy prison sentence for having been convicted on two counts of attempted murder. Ginny had been the key witness for the prosecution in the case and had sealed Jordan’s fate on the witness stand. But the bullet(s) meant for Ginny and/or Abbott had struck Talbot as he had pushed Ginny out of harm’s way. He had died moments later in her arms.

    Ginny had been devastated by Jerry’s death but somehow managed to carry on. It was her fierce Scottish pride and stubbornness, aligned with her independence and belief that she could handle anything that life threw at her, that saw her through many a dark day. She had spent the following summer teaching at the UMass Boston Marine Field Station on Nantucket and there on the island at the end of August, had given birth to Jerry’s and her daughter, Hannah. But there were complications and Ginny had almost died in childbirth. Glen Abbott had intervened at that point and brought a very weak mother and baby Hannah back to his penthouse apartment in Jamaica Plain. Abbott and his sister, Betsy, had helped care for Ginny and her infant daughter while she convalesced. And a few weeks later, Abbott had brought Ginny and baby Hannah up to the newly rebuilt Abbott Hall in Stafford, NH, in an attempt to rekindle the love that they had once shared. They were married the following spring after the first anniversary of Jerry’s death. But their relationship was nothing if not volatile and there were no happily-ever-after scenarios for them. They had both been traveling different roads through a tangled wood and eventually separated. They were living apart when Ginny fell down the stairs at Abbott Hall, broke her neck and suffered a traumatic brain injury that put her in a coma. She had literally died four days later. But her death led to an extraordinary near death experience and she miraculously survived. Her NDE forever changed her life and Glen Abbott’s. With Abbott’s devotion and love, Ginny was able to make a remarkable physical and mental recovery from her injuries, only to lose her hard-won recovery last May when an aneurysm in her brain ruptured.

    Hanson pulled into the turn-around at Abbott Hall and parked his minivan behind Glen Abbott’s Range Rover. He sat for a moment thinking about the long series of events that had led up to this moment. It had been difficult to lose both his good friends, Jerry and Ginny. And now the news that his godchild was not doing well was an added heartache. He hoped that his presence might help to sort out what was wrong with the little girl, but given all the history of violence and tragedy that had occurred at Abbott Hall (both the old and the new) over the years, he wondered if that were even possible.

    John Hanson took his overnight bag out of his van and made his way around the side of the Hall. The deck lights were on, a welcoming beacon in the dark October night. He mounted the stairs to the deck and had just reached the top stair when the slider opened and Glen Abbott emerged. Abbott warmly embraced Hanson and shook his hand. He led him into the kitchen, closing the slider behind them.

    John, it’s great to see you again, Abbott said. Thank you for coming.

    Hanson nodded, noting with concern how tired and fine-drawn Abbott appeared. His intensely blue eyes were red-rimmed and there were lines of worry etched onto his face. Ginny Montgomery, after meeting Glen Abbott that first summer, had once described him to John as devastatingly handsome and she had not been exaggerating. He was a handsome man just under six feet tall with broad shoulders, dark brown hair and vivid blue eyes. But now, he looked exhausted, worried and considerably older than his 38 years. Hanson set his bag down and shook his head. Glen, you look worn out.

    I’m okay, John, he said waving his hand in dismissal. I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all. Have a seat. How was your trip?

    It was fine. I enjoyed the drive. The Fall colors are at their peak.

    Abbott nodded and sat down at the table across from him. Yes. We’ve been lucky with the weather. Betsy says Boston and large parts of central and eastern Massachusetts are still in a severe drought and the leaves aren’t turning. They’re just dropping. But we managed to get enough rainfall up here throughout the summer, so the fall foliage is quite good in these parts.

    Hanson rose to his feet to acknowledge Abbott’s sister Betsy as she came into the kitchen. Hello, John, it’s good to see you again! she greeted him warmly. How have you been?

    I’ve been well, Betsy, he said taking her hand warmly. Thank you. How are you and your family these days?

    We’re fine. The boys are spending the weekend with some friends on the Cape and Dick is in New York, working, as always. So I came up to spend a few days with Glen and give him a hand. She didn’t say, with Hannah, but it was implied.

    John Hanson looked around. Ah. Where is she?

    She’s down at the barn with Stephi, Glen replied. She likes being in the barn, feeding the horses and helping out there. Virginia used to take her with her to the barn all the time, so she feels comfortable there. Stephi gives her little jobs to do. She’ll bring her up to the house when she’s done with the evening chores. It’s become kind of a ritual with them.

    As if on cue, Stephanie Myers came up the stairs onto the deck holding Hannah’s hand. They came through the slider and Stephi’s face registered her delight when she saw Hanson. John! So good to see you again! she said with a big smile. She stepped forward and gave him a bearhug embrace.

    Hi, honey! John returned her hug and kissed her on the cheek. Good to see you, too! He then turned to look down at his little godchild, standing next to Stephi. Is that my Hannah-Banana? he asked her.

    Hannah’s eyes were wide with surprise as she stared up at her godfather. Pappy! she said excitedly and held up her arms to him.

    Hanson reached down and hoisted her up, swung her in an arc and hugged and kissed her. Oh, I’ve missed you so much, Banana!

    The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him with unadulterated joy. I knew you’d come! she said aloud. I knew it!

    Yes. I’ve missed you so much! I just had to come and see you!

    The child pushed herself away from him and looked around the kitchen. She glanced at her father and aunt standing a few feet from her, then at Stephi. Her eyes searched the room again, then came back to look into her godfather’s face, her disappointment obvious to everyone in the room.

    Hanson looked at her face and saw that she was suddenly on the verge of tears. It’s okay, Banana, he said gently. I understand.

    The child placed her head on his shoulder, nestling her face against his neck. Hanson rubbed her back tenderly and sat down, holding her to him. He was alarmed at how little she weighed. He glanced up at Abbott and his sister and shook his head sadly. There was no doubt in his mind that Hannah had expected her mother to make a surprise appearance as well. No doubt at all.

    Hannah, Hanson said gently, I’ve brought some presents for you.

    The child raised her head and pushed herself away from him. She looked up at her godfather curiously.

    I’ve brought you some books and puzzles and games. After dinner, we can sit in the great room together and I’ll show you what I’ve brought for you. Would you like that?

    She nodded, then put her head back down on his shoulder. He gently rubbed her back and smiled. Okay! he said with a smile and gave Abbott a sober look. But first, we both must get washed up for dinner. Hannah-Banana you smell like a horse!

    The child giggled and squirmed in his arms, wanting to get down. Hanson set her down and took her by the hand. We’ll be right back, he said to the group.

    We’ll be here, Abbott smiled.

    Together Hanson and his godchild went down the hall to the downstairs bathroom to wash their hands before dinner. Glen Abbott looked at his sister and Stephi in turn. He simply shrugged, then crossed to the counter and began to carve the oven roast that had been resting there.

    John Hanson returned with Hannah a short while later. The little girl was holding tightly to his hand and smiling. He brought her over to the table and hoisted her onto her chair. Stephi and Betsy were already seated. Abbott placed a large platter on the table. May Williamson, his housekeeper, had made an oven roast with potatoes and carrots that afternoon. Abbott added a tossed salad to the table along with some fresh baked rolls and butter. Everyone help yourselves.

    Abbott filled his daughter’s plate. He cut the beef and vegetables up into small pieces for her and poured her a glass of milk. Then he sat down next to her and helped himself to some dinner.

    This is delicious, Hanson said savoring the meal. Definitely worth the drive!

    Abbott grinned. I can’t take credit for it. When May learned you were coming, she said she wanted to prepare a special dinner for you!

    I’ll have to remember to thank her. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in weeks.

    What have you been up to, John? Stephi asked him.

    Teaching! I have a wonderful group of students. Fifth and sixth graders. They keep me pretty busy. It’s a long day and I don’t usually get home till after 7 each night. So, I’ve been eating out more than I should. I pass a couple of fast food places on my way home. They’re convenient but not very healthful.

    Well, we’ll do our best to give you some worthwhile meals while you’re here, Betsy smiled. She glanced at Hannah who was moving the food around on her plate but not actually eating much of anything. Hannah, don’t play with your food. It’s going to get cold.

    The child stopped what she was doing and looked up at her aunt, her expression sullen.

    Hanson intervened calmly. Banana, do you remember when you were little and your mummy used to bring you to me when you wouldn’t eat your dinner? And you would sit on my lap and I would feed you?

    Hannah looked across at him and nodded.

    I sure do miss those times, Banana, Hanson said gently. I wish we could do that again. But you’re a big girl now and I don’t suppose you would like to sit on my lap while you eat your supper.

    Hannah’s eyes opened wide and she immediately got down from her chair and came around the table. Hanson pushed back his chair and hoisted her up onto his lap. Then he reached across the table and pulled her plate forward and began feeding her as she sat in his lap. Hannah readily took a slice of the beef, then a slice of carrot, a slice of potato and she was on a roll. Hanson talked tenderly to her while she chewed her portions. He buttered a roll and took a bite, then gave her a piece of the bread. She ate it and Hanson smiled. Gee, this is just like old times, Hannah! he smiled and gave her a hug. What fun!

    Abbott looked at his daughter happily sitting in John Hanson’s lap as he spoonfed her supper. Her eyes were bright and she was more animated than she had been in weeks. He took out his cell phone and snapped a couple of pictures of Hannah on Hanson’s lap. Betsy looked at her brother, then at her little niece and nodded in satisfaction. John’s god-daddy magic appeared to be still working!

    After dinner, John Hanson took Hannah into the great room while Abbott, Stephi and his sister cleared the table and tidied up. John brought his overnight bag into the room and sat down on the sofa. Hannah promptly climbed up onto the sofa to sit next to him.

    Banana, he said as he fished into his bag and brought out several parcels wrapped in colorful paper, I brought these for you. He handed her the first parcel and she took it and began to unwrap it. Her eyes lit up when she saw the lovely picture book of horses showing all the different breeds and explaining what they were used for. "I think there’s a picture of Crossfire in there!"

    Hannah quickly paged through the book until she came to the section on Thoroughbreds and there, in color, was a picture of a beautiful bay thoroughbred jumping a very large post and rail fence at a horse show. Hannah’s eyes opened wide as she immediately recognized Crossfire. The caption under the photo read: "Jerry Talbot riding Crossfire at the Lake Placid Jumper Classic."

    Just then Stephi, Abbott and Betsy came into the great room and Hannah pointed excitedly to her new book. "Stephi, Daddy, look, it’s Crossfire!"

    Stephi leaned forward and glanced at the picture and her eyes went wide. "My God! It is Crossfire!"

    Both Abbott and Betsy were equally surprised. Where on earth did you find this? Abbott asked.

    "In a used book store. I saw it and thought Hannah might like it, so I started looking through it and when I saw the photo of Jerry and Crossfire, I just had to buy it."

    Wow! Stephi said. Jerry looks so young! How old was he back then, do you know?

    If I remember correctly, that was the year that Jerry first came to work for me as Assistant Director of Silverwood and Pinefall. So that would have been around 2007. So he would have been about 23 years old then.

    I assume that it was well before the accident at the Meadowlands Grand Prix? Abbott asked.

    "About four years before. He had just started campaigning City Slicker on the Grand Prix Circuit."

    Stephi sat down next to Hannah and together they looked excitedly through the book. Betsy sat down across from them and Abbott crossed to the great fieldstone hearth and set about lighting a fire within.

    John Hanson dug into his bag and came up with several other colorfully wrapped parcels. There was a jigsaw puzzle, some coloring books and educational games and an intricately-carved Rosewood Chinese puzzle box. John took the puzzle box from her hand and shook it. There was something inside. There’s a present inside, Hannah. But there’s a secret way to open this box. You have to find the secret to get what’s inside.

    Hannah took the box from him and turned it over several times, looking for a way to open it. She looked up at him, shaking her head. It doesn’t open.

    It does. But you have to find the secret.

    She frowned down at the box in her hand.

    Do you know how to open it? Stephi asked Hanson with a smile.

    Yes, but only because the shopkeeper showed me! It’s clever. I bet Hannah can figure it out. He placed his hand on her head. You keep working on it, honey. And when you find the secret to open it, you get to keep the present inside.

    There was one last present to be opened. Here’s something special for you, Banana, Hanson said handing it to her.

    The child took the parcel and unwrapped a second book. It was a children’s book, entitled, "The Book of Changes" for children 3-7 years of age. Hannah opened the book and looked at the pictures. There were pictures of butterflies and frogs and birds and all manner of animals. She looked up at her godfather.

    Hannah, this is a special book, he explained to her. You’ve seen butterflies and frogs, but did you know that a butterfly doesn’t start out as a butterfly? And that a frog doesn’t start out as a frog?

    She furrowed her brow and shook her head, clearly confused.

    Well, this book explains how plants and animals change, how they become something very different. He showed her the section of the book dealing with butterflies. See this beautiful butterfly? Well, in the beginning, the butterfly starts out as a little caterpillar. He pointed out the picture of the caterpillar. The little caterpillar eats plants. It eats all summer long and gets bigger and bigger. And just before the cold weather comes, it builds itself a house called a cocoon. He pointed to the picture of a cocoon. And in the spring, when the snow melts, the cocoon splits open and out comes….a beautiful butterfly!

    Hannah’s eyes opened wide as she looked at the picture of the caterpillar transformed into the beautiful monarch butterfly. She looked up at her godfather. How did he do that?

    A lot of animals do the same thing, Hannah. They start out as one thing and change into another form. The frog starts as a tadpole. You’ve seen tadpoles in the lake. Well, as they get older, they change into frogs. It’s a very special part of nature, what’s called a Life Cycle.

    Life cycle?

    H’m. Later on this weekend, we can go through this book together and you’ll see how every living thing changes during its life cycle, Hannah. Some animals undergo truly amazing changes during their lives, like the caterpillar changing into a delicate butterfly.

    She was clearly interested in what her godfather was telling her but surprised everyone with her next question. She looked down at the book in her lap, then up at Hanson. Do people change, too? she asked simply.

    John looked up at Glen Abbott standing in front of the great hearth at Abbott Hall. He could tell from Abbott’s expression that he understood exactly what the purpose of the book was and what it would teach his young daughter. Abbott gave Hanson an understanding nod, giving him, as it were, permission to take the lesson to its inevitable conclusion.

    Yes, Hannah, Hanson replied gently, "People do change over time. When you came into this

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