Megan's Island Read Free Page A

were running from something, but what? She couldn’t imagine anything that could have caused her mother to be scared enough to run away.
    She turned her head slightly, intending to ask if there weren’t time, finally, to explain. Her mother’s profile showed in the dim light from the dashboard, and something about it made the question die in Megan’s throat, unspoken.
    She had seen her mother tired, and cross, and nearly sick with worry, but usually the anxiety was over how to pay for something important. Megan had never seen her looking this way.
    Her mother, too, was afraid.
    Her heart beating a nervous tattoo in her chest, Megan willed herself to be calm. To wait, until her mother was ready to talk.
    When they got to Grandpa’s, she thought. Then her mother would tell her what was going on.
    After a while, she slept.
    She woke as the sky was growing pink and gray in the east. Her mouth was dry, and there was a crick in her neck because her head had rolled sideways.
    Her mother glanced at her as she stretched and groaned.
    â€œGood morning. I hope you got a good rest.”
    Her mother had had no rest. She had driven all night, with only one stop to get gas and use a restroom.
    â€œI was dreaming,” Megan said, aware that she was hungry. Normally she would have had a snack before she went to bed last night, but the turn of events had driven hunger right out of her mind. “About Daddy, when I was a little girl, and he tossed me in the air and laughed.”
    Mrs. Collier turned on her flasher and swung the car out around a slow-moving truck. “Do you remember him, Megan?”
    â€œNo, not really. He had red hair, though, didn’t he? Like Sandy’s and mine? And he was strong and good looking.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI knew he was my dad, in the dream. I wish he hadn’t died.” Maybe, if he were still with them, they wouldn’t be running this way. He would be taking care of whatever the problem was. Daddies weren’t afraid of things the way kids and mothers sometimes were. Or were they? Until last night, she hadn’t thought mothers got scared, either—not scared enough to drive away from home in the middle of the night without telling anyone.
    Her mother didn’t answer, concentrating on her driving. “It’s only a few more miles now.”
    â€œDoes Grandpa know we’re coming?”
    Mrs. Collier shook her head. “No phone, remember?”
    So they hadn’t set this up between them ahead of time, through their usual letters. If they had, she’d have told the children before last night. That only made it more peculiar than it already was.
    The village sign said Welcome to Lakewood, Minnesota—Population 840—A Friendly Town; a big, fancy sign for such a small place. And then they were slowing down to roll through the streets that were deserted at a little after five-thirty in the morning. There were two gas stations, a general store, and a church spire showing above a cluster of houses.
    In the other direction, the lake was still pewter-colored in the dawn. Before last night, Megan had been excited about coming here, had looked forward to it. Now she didn’t know how she felt.
    Behind her, Sandy stirred. “Where are we? Is there any place open to get something to eat?”
    â€œWe’ll be at Grandpa’s cottage in another twenty minutes,” Mrs. Collier assured him. “He’ll feed us. It’s a pretty lake, isn’t it? You’ll have fun here.”
    Fun. The word was jarring, after what had happened last night. After they’d had to leave home without telling Annie they were leaving. Annie would be hurt, as hurt as Megan knew she would be if the situation were reversed. She didn’t want to hurt Annie. Annie was the closest friend she’d ever had.
    The air was cool and pine-scented as the road left the water and plunged into a forest of evergreens. Megan sat up