Garden of the Moon Read Free

alone , Patricia hadn’t mentioned the affliction to them. She’d swept the truth under the rug as effortlessly as Raina swept dirt out the door and then her mother had lied through her perfect teeth.
     
    ***
     
    “Since poor Sara’s passed a respectable age for marriage, I’ve given up, trying to find a suitable man for her. I’m afraid her unmarried state has become somewhat of an…embarrassment to her father and me. Allowing her to set up her own home at Harrogate in the seclusion of the country is the wisest choice.” She’d paused for effect, and then confided, “Perhaps after living alone for a time, my willful daughter will come to her senses and think twice about her lofty requirements for an acceptable suitor and, hopefully, find a husband. Of course, all the men of her age are already spoken for, so perhaps a widower…” The words had faded off into a deep, heartfelt sob and a dramatic dab at her eyes with the corner of a white linen handkerchief.
    Her mother’s friends had nodded in sympathetic, yet sage agreement, and then patted Patricia’s shoulder in consolation for having a daughter who would rain down such embarrassment on her dear mother’s head .
    Sara often wondered what they’d think if they knew the real reason her mother was suddenly shipping her only daughter off to St. Lucius Parish. Enraged at her mother’s performance, Sara had been seriously tempted to pop out from behind the door where she’d been eavesdropping on their conversation and telling Mrs. Dubois that her dead husband was smiling at her from over her right shoulder or that Mrs. LeFarge’s long-deceased father was scowling down at her from his perch on the mantel.
    But Sara had controlled her urge for revenge and kept silent. Divulging her gift would have only labeled her as the freak her mother believed her to be, and that would have afforded her mother more of the attention and sympathy she thrived on. Besides, Sara hadn’t wanted to do anything that would have enraged her mother enough to change her mind about allowing the move to Harrogate.
    Sometimes Sara wished that she simply had some physical flaw, a twisted limb or a deformed ear. At least she could hide a crippled leg beneath her billowing gown or a missing ear beneath her chestnut curls. Though she had gotten used to seeing dead people long ago, one aspect of Sara’s gift was often hard for her to hide, especially when her mother caught her talking to someone that only Sara could see. The dead spirits that sought her out had no discretion about when they’d suddenly appear on the scene.
    Her father, on the other hand, had grown up with a mother with the same affliction , so none of it seemed strange to him. He’d even developed a bit of the same talent himself, but he’d never told his wife. It had been something he shared with no one but his only daughter.
    Sara shook the doubts away. All this reminiscing was just magnifying her anxiety and taking the edge off her excitement. So what if the gardens were a bit wild? It certainly didn’t mean anything sinister lurked out there. It had been, after all, five years since the house had been occupied, and the grounds simply needed grooming.
    Papa had promised to send her a dozen of Magnolia Run’s best gardeners tomorrow. But the thought of slaves from her father’s plantation coming the next day didn’t really sweep away Sara’s unease. Like Raina, she continued to study their surroundings with a wary eye.
    The house came into view. Her unease did not ebb. Instead, the closer they got to the sprawling mansion the more intense her anxiety became.
    Oaks dripping with amethyst wisteria and ghostly, pearl-gray moss surrounded the house. Stirred by the brisk wind, their gnarled limbs seemed to crouch over the roof like protective, disapproving dowagers taking measure of the intruders in their midst. Blazing, red azaleas and deep crimson, crepe myrtles hemorrhaged their blossoms into the overgrown lawn,