Chapter 1
In troubled sleep, Dana Mitchell tossed on the narrow bed. Even in the white cotton gown which came to her throat and ankles, her full womanhood swelled sensuously. The large, heavy breasts, still firm with youth, pressed against the white cloth and indented it to their wondrous shape. The night was warm, and she had thrown back the coverlet as she tossed, exposing the rounded swell of her hips and buttocks. The gown had twisted on her slim, curved legs and left one thigh partially exposed in the dimness of the moonlit room.
The young woman twisted in agonized sleep. The dream pursued her, threatened her. She had had it often, but now, on this night before she was to leave the security of the school, it menaced her more so.
The dream was dark, full of shadows that twisted and turned into grotesque shapes as Dana huddled in a corner. She had run, as fast and as far as the plump legs would carry her, but each time she turned, they were still there. They reached for her, grasping and clutching at her flesh, tearing the nightgown from her. The shadows became huge hands, hands with coarse black hair across their backs, hands with fingers that dug into her flesh and tried to consume her.
The corner behind her became part of the shadow suddenly, and it no longer offered protection. She fell backwards, her legs splaying as she rolled to her back. The hands made a quick lunge for her exposed thighs. The cloth tore as the nightgown gave way under the force of the gripping fingers. The hands were between her legs now, pulling apart the white flesh and digging into the warm haven between their joining.
The child whimpered soundlessly but the darkness was filled with the harsh laughter of the face behind the hands. The face came close to hers, and the heavy sour breath gagged her. The laugh was a twisted grimace and the mouth mumbled thick, heavy words the child did, not know the meanings of. The hands yanked at her tender, hairless flesh and tore open the deep, dark, wet cavity beyond the heavy lips of softness. They rubbed the soft inner lining of the lips, increasing her terror, yet filling her with a strange new sensation at the same time. Then the dim figure grunted and stabbed his fingers into the slit. On second thought, he pulled back and laughed again. She was vaguely aware of his quick motions as he took off his clothing and then came at her again. Now, instead of a finger, another part of his body came at her. It plunged swiftly into the cavity the fingers had spread. Hot pain seared through her body as she felt tissue rip at the forced entry. Her cries were muffled by his heavy grunting body that lay full atop her now.
She tried to scream, but no sound came. Her body was filled with his, and she sobbed with hurt shame. Fire grew inside her belly, and then she shuddered under the horrible blast of his explosion. Hot liquid poured up into her, sending shockwaves through her torso, making her warm flesh damp with perspiration, making something deep inside her cry for release.
The shadows moved, the dream shifted into gray mist. She floated in the spongy softness, unwilling to trace the feeling that still held her body to its source. The trembling quivers of near-pleasure that washed through her belly were somehow shameful, and she knew she must not pursue them. Yet she could not release them or abandon them. She hugged them to, herself, clamping her arms around her knees and lying curled on the bed.
The shadows laughed, and the evil returned to haunt her. Shivering, she woke and sat up abruptly.
She was in the small bedroom on the third floor of the convent. The stark whiteness of the room was cold and pale in the moonlight. She shivered again and found the cover and pulled it over her.
What time was it? How much more of the endless night lay ahead? She wanted it to be over, to take with it the terror and shame of her nightmare. Yet she wanted it to never end. Tomorrow would not be like other days. Tomorrow she was leaving. Tomorrow she was going away from the close love and comfort of the school where she'd been so many years. She was eighteen now, finished with the academic program the school offered, but unwilling to leave. Sister Mary Helen had told her she had to face the world, to go out from the cloistered school and live her own life. When Dana protested that she wanted to stay, join the order and become a teacher, Sister Mary Helen smiled.
"Perhaps some day, my dear. But first you must see what the rest of the world is like. I promised your mother when she brought you I would let go of you when the time came. It is not easy for us here. We love you as our own. It would be simple to encourage you to stay with us. But I gave my word."
Exasperated, and a little frightened, Dana sighed. She could not see why a mother who had cared so little about her as to dump her at a convent school when she was only nine should have cared, or dared, to make restrictions on her life. But there was no budging Sister Mary Helen, and Dana gave up trying, especially after the sisters had managed to get her a job teaching French in a small private school in Wisconsin. The bilingual convent school on the Canadian border of North Dakota had supplied her with a ready-made profession.
She sighed now and hugged the blanket around her even though the night was warm. The summer had gone rapidly, and tomorrow she must start on her journey south to the new school. An icy finger trailed down her spine, and she shuddered. Somehow the unknown future, the world beyond the walls of the convent, were linked to the nightmare.
In the nine years she'd been at the school, she'd never been able to tell any of the sisters about the dream. If someone heard her cries when the terror filled her at night, she was shushed gently without explanation or questions. The sisters never pried into her thoughts or encouraged her to talk about the bad dreams that woke her. It was, she thought, as if they too knew part of the shame and felt it better left untouched by conscious mind.
And so she'd grown up with the nightmare. It had in some ways become dimmer, the face fading with the shadows. But in other ways it had become more real, leaving her physically shaken for longer and longer periods of time.
She tried to sort her feelings and thoughts now but could not. Her belly still ached with that peculiar numbness that invaded it after the dream left. Finally she lay back on the hard mattress and closed her eyes. She had a long drive ahead of her tomorrow. She had to sleep.
When she woke in the morning, the prayer bells were already chiming. She dressed quickly in the pale blue cotton dress Sister Mary Helen had ordered by mail for her. It was such a change from the dark uniform she'd worn so many years. She smiled at her reflection. Even in the shapeless undergarments one of the nuns had fashioned for her, she was tall and well-proportioned. The lines of the store-bought dress hugged her slim waist and emphasized her full bust. Quickly she donned the short cropped jacket to hide the curves. Then she finished packing the small suitcase, also ordered by mail, and its meager contents.
She was too excited to care about food, but Sister Mary Helen gave her a disapproving glance and she quickly forced down the oatmeal and the fresh milk and bread. She felt occasional glances from around the table on her, but she did not look up. She was too afraid she would cry. The meal over at last, she walked outside. Only Sister Mary Helen followed her. Everyone had agreed it would be easier this way.
The sister patted the door of the old car. "Jacques says it may be old, but it has many miles to go. It will get you to your destination, my dear. "
"Oh, Sister, I don't want to leave!"
"Hush! We've been all over that. You must go now." She smiled to soften the harshness of her. words. "Drive carefully. Be sure to watch the temperature and oil gauges. Jacques says-"
"Yes, I know." Dana took the older woman's hand. "Thank you for everything."
The woman smiled softly. "Be happy, my dear. I know you will."
Dana chewed at her lip. "I wish...." She didn't bother to say the words again.
"Help me keep my promise now," Sister Mary Helen said.
Dana got behind the wheel and started the car. With a last wave to the woman in the dark long habit, she let out the brake and the car moved slowly down the hill.
She fought to hold back the tears, glancing in the rear view mirror until the view of the school was cut off by a grove of trees when she rounded a curve in the road. Then she let them spill over her burning eyelids to dampen the blue cotton of her dress. She gulped huge sobs and tried to control her tortured breathing.
She was on the highway now, and she had to concentrate on her driving even though the traffic was sparse. The tears made it difficult, and she finally pulled off the side of the road and leaned her head forward on the steering wheel and let her fear pour out through the tears. She lost track of time and was startled when she felt the touch on her shoulder. She jerked up.
"Are you all right?" The bronzed face with its stubble of dark whiskers on the chin hid behind huge sunglasses.
"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine." She tried to steady her voice.
"You don't look very fine. Not many people park by the side of the highway and cry their hearts out when they're fine."
She stared at her reflection in the dark glasses. "No, I'm all right."
"You're sure?"
She nodded and sniffed. She glanced beyond him to see where he had come from. A large semi-trailer truck was pulled up on the grass ahead of her own car. He must be the driver.
"Yes, I'm sorry. It was kind of you to worry about me."
His forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows arched above the tops of the glasses. "It's okay."
She rummaged in her purse for a handkerchief and blew her nose. "I've never had to say good-bye before, at least not that I remember. I guess...."
He grinned. "Sure, you don't have to explain, kid. Where you headed?"
"Wisconsin. I'm going to teach in Bladfield."
"No kidding? I get over that way sometimes. There's a town called Hope River not far from there. Guy I know had a pad there."
"Pad?"
He laughed. "A house. You from around here?"
She nodded. "The convent school."
He pursed his lips and whistled softly. "Oh."
"Do you know it?"
"Not exactly. I've heard about it, that's all. How long you been there?"
"Almost ten years. It's the only home I remember." She tried to smile but the tears threatened again. She dabbed the handkerchief at her eyes. "Well, I'd better get going again. I'm supposed to be there this evening."
"Pretty long drive."
"I know. I'd better go."
"Maybe I'll see you around sometime when I'm down at Hope River." He smiled, and there was friendliness and something Dana couldn't identify in the gesture.
"I hope so. And thanks again for stopping."
He stepped back and lifted his hand in a wave.
"Be careful, kid." Then he turned and strode quickly to his vehicle. The big trailer groaned and pulled back onto the pavement.
The sight of the truck ahead of her on the road gave Dana a measure of confidence and she continued her journey. When it turned off at a junction, she saw the driver's quick wave from the open window and smiled. She wished she had thought to ask his name. It would be nice to look forward to having a friend nearby when she got to Wisconsin.
But for now, she had to concentrate on the long drive.