Season of Fear Read Online Free
Author: Christine Bush
hearing a variety of rumors in town about the Ridleys. You may not want to stay."
"I've already heard them, Jacob."
"And still you came?" He looked at her suspiciously. "Looking for a rich husband, perhaps?"
She could feel the flush that she was sure was creeping up her cheeks. What a rude young man!
He turned and slipped quietly into the house, but not before giving Robin a murderous look. She had not made a friend in Jacob Ridley.
She gave a sigh and headed for the dining room, where she knew the family would be assembling for dinner. Was she going to be happy here? Not if she were constantly questioned and accused and suspected of ulterior motives. Could she live among these arrogant, proud people? She had sincere doubts. She'd write a letter to Herman after dinner and make plans to find another job, one in which she could use her education and abilities.
She arrived at the dining room, where the family was waiting. She slipped into her chair beside Sara, and the men took their seats. Gregory, the ten year old, was blond and fair, with a happy smile on his face. He sat beside his father, who was dressed in a cool pressed shirt and khaki slacks.
"I'm Gregory, I'm ten, Miss North. Can I call you Robin the way Sara does?"
"Glad to meet you, Gregory. Robin is fine with me."
The meal began, and Robin raised her eyes to regard the family seated at the long table: Sara and Gregory chatting easily about a new pony just being trained, Mr. Ridley solemnly quiet, sunken deeply in his own thoughts, and Jacob, eyes blazing, staring at his plate as he ate.
Robin began to mentally compose her letter to Herman as she ate.
As soon as cook began to clear away the dinner dishes before them. Robin hastily excused herself and retreated to her room. The tension in the house seemed unbearable. A blanket of gloom nestled over the inhabitants. Only Sara and Gregory seemed immune to it. Even Cook, a slim, short little woman with a no-nonsense look peeking out from beneath her wispy graying hair, was grim and untalkative.
Robin felt discouraged and defeated. She would write to Herman and tell him she was displeased with her position, to see if he could advise her on an alternative.
Her note was brief and to the point. She signed her name at the bottom and slipped the paper into the waiting envelope.
There was a tap at the door. She hesitated, not wanting any further confrontations with the Ridley family.
But Sara's voice came to her ears. It sounded thin, tight.
"Robin, Robin, are you there? Can I please talk to you for a moment?"
Robin moved to the door. "Come on in. Sara. What is it?"
The girl came into the room. Her eyes were red, her shoulders sagging.
Robin's heart went out to her. "Sara, you're upset. Come, sit here." She motioned to one of the chrome chairs.
Sara sat, but didn't meet Robin's questioning eyes. She gazed out the window to the prairie beyond. "I had to come to talk to you. It isn't fair not to warn you."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
Sara's voice was thick. "Robin, I was so happy that you came. I was so happy when Father said you could stay with us for a while. I thought everything would be all right. But Jacob is so mad at me. And Jacob's right. It's not safe for you to be here."
Robin thought of the dark youth at the dining-room table. She seriously doubted that he would be concerned about her safety.
Sara went on. "I've got to tell you a story, a horrible story. You may not want to stay after you've heard it. It's about my mother, Laura Ridley."
Robin could feel her stomach tense up. She sat quietly as Sara continued.
"When Jacob and I were eleven. Mother was still alive, and she and Father seemed to argue all the time. This one day they had a huge fight, out by the pool. You could hear them shouting and yelling at each other all over the place. But then they quieted down, and after a while they saddled up their horses and rode out onto the prairie. They often did that. They rode for miles
"I've already heard them, Jacob."
"And still you came?" He looked at her suspiciously. "Looking for a rich husband, perhaps?"
She could feel the flush that she was sure was creeping up her cheeks. What a rude young man!
He turned and slipped quietly into the house, but not before giving Robin a murderous look. She had not made a friend in Jacob Ridley.
She gave a sigh and headed for the dining room, where she knew the family would be assembling for dinner. Was she going to be happy here? Not if she were constantly questioned and accused and suspected of ulterior motives. Could she live among these arrogant, proud people? She had sincere doubts. She'd write a letter to Herman after dinner and make plans to find another job, one in which she could use her education and abilities.
She arrived at the dining room, where the family was waiting. She slipped into her chair beside Sara, and the men took their seats. Gregory, the ten year old, was blond and fair, with a happy smile on his face. He sat beside his father, who was dressed in a cool pressed shirt and khaki slacks.
"I'm Gregory, I'm ten, Miss North. Can I call you Robin the way Sara does?"
"Glad to meet you, Gregory. Robin is fine with me."
The meal began, and Robin raised her eyes to regard the family seated at the long table: Sara and Gregory chatting easily about a new pony just being trained, Mr. Ridley solemnly quiet, sunken deeply in his own thoughts, and Jacob, eyes blazing, staring at his plate as he ate.
Robin began to mentally compose her letter to Herman as she ate.
As soon as cook began to clear away the dinner dishes before them. Robin hastily excused herself and retreated to her room. The tension in the house seemed unbearable. A blanket of gloom nestled over the inhabitants. Only Sara and Gregory seemed immune to it. Even Cook, a slim, short little woman with a no-nonsense look peeking out from beneath her wispy graying hair, was grim and untalkative.
Robin felt discouraged and defeated. She would write to Herman and tell him she was displeased with her position, to see if he could advise her on an alternative.
Her note was brief and to the point. She signed her name at the bottom and slipped the paper into the waiting envelope.
There was a tap at the door. She hesitated, not wanting any further confrontations with the Ridley family.
But Sara's voice came to her ears. It sounded thin, tight.
"Robin, Robin, are you there? Can I please talk to you for a moment?"
Robin moved to the door. "Come on in. Sara. What is it?"
The girl came into the room. Her eyes were red, her shoulders sagging.
Robin's heart went out to her. "Sara, you're upset. Come, sit here." She motioned to one of the chrome chairs.
Sara sat, but didn't meet Robin's questioning eyes. She gazed out the window to the prairie beyond. "I had to come to talk to you. It isn't fair not to warn you."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
Sara's voice was thick. "Robin, I was so happy that you came. I was so happy when Father said you could stay with us for a while. I thought everything would be all right. But Jacob is so mad at me. And Jacob's right. It's not safe for you to be here."
Robin thought of the dark youth at the dining-room table. She seriously doubted that he would be concerned about her safety.
Sara went on. "I've got to tell you a story, a horrible story. You may not want to stay after you've heard it. It's about my mother, Laura Ridley."
Robin could feel her stomach tense up. She sat quietly as Sara continued.
"When Jacob and I were eleven. Mother was still alive, and she and Father seemed to argue all the time. This one day they had a huge fight, out by the pool. You could hear them shouting and yelling at each other all over the place. But then they quieted down, and after a while they saddled up their horses and rode out onto the prairie. They often did that. They rode for miles
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