Yesterday's Promise

CHAPTER ONE Grimston Way, England 31 October 1898 On the perimeter of the village green, a thick stand of ancient trees with half-clad branches trembled in the rising wind. Dark clouds obscured the cheerful face of the sun, and like a harbinger of events to come, a thunderhead cloaked the afternoon sky. The first smattering of rain dribbled down branches to a crisp carpet of burnt-orange leaves. Though the countryside seemed draped with a fall gloominess, laughter still danced on the wind from children who joined hands and skipped in a large circle while singing "London Bridge Is Falling Down" and giggling as they dropped to the damp grass. A tall white cross graced the village green near the twelfth-century rectory of St. Graves Parish. Below the cross some of the village girls were adding last-minute touches to the outdoor fall decorations. Chains of red pomegranates, yellow gourds, and dried cornhusks, plus bundles of tied grasses and bunched leaves gave a warm touch of color to the festive gathering. This was October 31, Allhallows Eve, the yearly celebration recalling brave Christian heroes and heroines of the past who had faithfully labored for Christ. The outdoor activities in Grimston Way would end at eventide with the lighting of candles, a chapel service, and a friendly supper inside the parish hall. Evy Varley, who had grown up as the niece of the now deceased Vicar Edmund Havering and his wife, Grace, emerged from the ancient gnarled oak trees, where she had been gathering dried lacy moss hanging from ghostly branches. She was quite accustomed to the church holidays, spring fetes, and summer bake sales, for she'd been reared to become a vicar's wife, but Providence, so it seemed to her, had intervened, and she'd been blessed to study music. She had recently graduated from Parkridge Music Academy in London and, by means of a loan from Rogan Chantry, had opened a small music school here in her home village. As she paused to take in the view of the village green, however, she now felt strangely alienated, as though she were an outsider looking through a window at a nostalgic scene. Had she been affected by the sudden gloominess? Perhaps it was the odd restive spirit she had sensed for the past few days that seemed hidden in the shadow of her subconscious. The sensation intensified to the point that Evy turned away from the singing children and looked toward the fast darkening Grimston Woods. She suddenly remembered an incident in her girlhoodthe day when a stranger had stood watching her from these very trees. The man had appeared kindly back then, even sad when he spoke to her, but she now experienced less benign emotions as the dark memory clouded her mind. There was nothing she could describe as out of the ordinary, yet she remained conscious of an inexplicable unease. She turned away and quickened her steps back toward the village green, seeking the children's laughter and their innocent faces as they prepared for the evening's festivities. Perhaps her wary mood was due to the season. September had been unseasonably warm and cheery, but the inevitable cold October weather had finally arrived. Ahead, Evy heard grave voices coming from behind some old hemlock bushes. She recognized the voices of the twin Hooper sisters, Mary and Beth, who were students in her piano class. The two schoolgirls emerged from the bushes carrying wicker baskets filled with dried lavender and lemon grass, and their pretty blue calico skirts flared in the chilling breeze that sent leaves scattering about their feet. They both wore spectacles and had corn-colored hair that was braided and looped. The only noticeable difference between them was[read more]