The Fall of Shane MacKade Read Online Free PDF Page B

hope.”
    Baffled, Regan stared at her. “You used to be so…”
    â€œSerious-minded? I still am. Believe me, I’m very serious about this.”
    â€œOkay.” With a quick shake of her head, Regan rose. “And I better get serious about dinner.”
    â€œI’ll give you a hand.”
    Regan arched a brow as Rebecca stood. “Don’t tell me you learned to cook in Europe, too.”
    â€œNo, I can’t boil an egg.”
    â€œYou used to say it was genetic.”
    â€œI remember. Now I think it’s just a phobia. Cooking’s a dangerous business. Sharp edges, heat, flame. But I remember how to set a table.”
    â€œGood enough.”
    Â 
    Late that night, when Rebecca settled into her room, she snuggled up on the big padded window seat with a book and a cup of Regan’s tea. From down the hall she dimly heard the sound of a baby’s fretful crying, then footsteps padding down the hall. Within moments the quiet returned as, Rebecca imagined, Regan nursed the baby. She’d never imagined the Regan Bishop she’d known as a mother. In college, Regan had always been bright, energetic, interested in everyone and everything. Of course, she’d attracted male companionship, Rebecca remembered with a small smile. A woman who looked like Regan would always draw men. But it was not merely Regan’s beauty, but her way with people, that had made her so popular with both men and women.
    And Rebecca, dowdy, serious-minded, out-of-place Rebecca, had been so shocked, and so dazzled, when Regan offered her friendship. She’d been so miserably shy, Rebecca thought now, staring dreamily out the window while the cup warmed her hands. Still was, she admitted, beneath the veneer she’d developed in recentmonths. She’d had no social skills whatsoever then, and no defense against the fast-moving college scene.
    Except for Regan, who had found it natural to take a young, awkward, unattractive girl under her wing.
    It was something Rebecca would never forget. And sitting there, in the lovely guest room, with its big four-poster and lovely globe lamps, she was deeply, warmly happy that Regan had found such a wonderful life.
    A man who adored her, obviously, Rebecca thought. Anyone could see Rafe’s love for his wife every time he looked in her direction.
    A strong, handsome, fascinating man, two delightful children, a successful business, a beautiful home. Yes, she was thrilled to find Regan so content.
    As for herself, contentment had been eluding her of late. Academia, which had encompassed her all her life, had lately become more of a prison than a home. And, in truth, it was the only home she had ever known. Yet she’d fled from it. For a few months, at least, she felt compelled to explore facets of herself other than her intellect.
    She wanted feelings, emotions, passions. She wanted to take risks, make mistakes, do foolish and exciting things.
    Perhaps it was the dreams, those odd, recurring dreams, that had influenced her. Whatever it was, the fact that her closest friend had settled in Antietam, a place of history and legend, had been too tempting to resist.
    It not only gave her the opportunity to visit, and re-cement an important relationship, it offered her the chance to delve more deeply into a hobby that was quickly becoming a compulsion.
    She couldn’t really put her finger on when and how the study of the paranormal had begun to appeal to her. It seemed to have been a gradual thing, an article here, a question there.
    Then, of course, the dreams. They had started severalyears before—odd little snippets of imagery that had seemed like memories. Over time, the dreams had lengthened and increased in clarity.
    And she’d begun to document them. After all, as a psychiatrist, she understood the value of dreams. As a scientist, she respected the strength of the unconscious. She’d approached the entire matter as she would any