Catching Moondrops by Jennifer Erin Valent Read Free Book Online

trick or two about such things, Jessilyn. Don’t you go underestimatin’ me.”
    The thunder grumbled louder now, and the clouds that had coasted in suffocated the landscape with gloom. The wind through the broken window tossed Luke’s hair across his forehead, and I stepped forward to sweep it away. “I ain’t never underestimated you over nothin’, Luke Talley.”
    His expression grew serious as it always did when a moment like this crossed our path—one of those moments when we couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of feeling between us. He slipped one finger beneath my chin and opened his mouth to say something, but I never found out what it was. An abrupt crash sounded through the tiny structure, and Luke shoved me to the ground beneath a shower of glass.
    We stayed there on the floor until the shards stopped falling from the last good window in the place. Finally Luke whispered in my ear. “You okay?”
    I was more stunned than anything, and it took me a second before I managed to nod. He carefully pushed himself away from me and brushed aside some pieces of the glass before crawling to the doorway.
    I rose to my knees but kept my head down. A large rock lay off to my right, and I leaned over to retrieve it, running my thumb across its smooth surface. I held it up for Luke to see. “One thing we know: this didn’t get blown in here from the storm.”
    He peered at me over his shoulder and scowled. “Stay down! Same people who threw that in here can try it again. Or worse.”
    I crawled across to where he was. “See anythin’?”
    â€œNothin’.”
    He stood up slowly and scoured the landscape under the moody black sky. I followed his lead, but he put one arm out to guide me behind him. Someone had thrown that rock, someone who could still be here, watching us, preying on us like coyotes. We gingerly made our way around the side of Tal’s office until we reached the back of the building and saw what had been done to it.
    There, scrawled in red paint, was the word nigger .
    Anger and fear coursed through me all at once. From behind Luke, I slipped my arm beneath his and gripped the front of his shirt as though if I hung on to him tightly enough, everything would be all right.
    He put his hand over mine but didn’t say a word, still scanning the trees for whoever had done this.
    And then we both found him.
    A flash of white shot out in front of us like a ghost coming out of hiding. I cried out, but Luke squeezed my hand in reproach. I watched, hardly breathing, unable to take my eyes away from the very thing I’d dreaded ever seeing again.
    Memories from my childhood swept across my mind, thundering images of ghostly figures, darkness lit by the eerie glimmer of a burning cross.
    The figure stood there wordlessly, the edges of his white robe flapping in the breeze. The ominous slits where his eyes should be showed only darkness, the truest reflection of the soul that lingered beneath.
    I couldn’t breathe. It was as though the mute apparition before me had sucked the air from my lungs. My fingernails dug into Luke’s chest, but he didn’t budge. No one moved; no one said a word. After several seconds that seemed more like hours, the man in white lifted one arm in our direction. He pointed a finger toward us and cocked it back once, twice, like a boy playing gunfighter. And then he disappeared into the woods.
    My knees were shaking, my heart pounding so violently I could hear it over the wind and thunder.
    Luke stepped backward so he was beside me and slipped an arm around my waist. “Let’s get on home,” he said softly.
    â€œBut the office,” I whispered. “Look what they did.”
    He didn’t look back at it; he just sighed. “Creative, ain’t they? But we ain’t waitin’ around while they’re out there. We’ll deal with it another