Free Winds of terror by Patricia Hagan

voice and said, "Her blood pressure is up too high, Melanie. I'm going to give you some pills to give her at bedtime that will make her rest. She needs to rest. Td like to see her back in the hospital, but I know she'd have another stroke if I even suggested it. It's going to be up to you to do the best you can to see that she gets plenty of rest and doesn't get upset."
    As they started downstairs, Melanie told him she doubted that she could do much with Addie, because her aunt was so stubborn and set in her ways.
    "Well, I know it's diflScult," the old doctor agreed, his face crinkling. He set his bag down and started runmiag-ing through it. "Addie always was one with a mind of her own, and I guess the older she gets, the worse she gets. That's the way it is with old folks. Some say I'm just being stubborn not to take down my shingle and retire to rock on the front porch till death comes a-callin'." He shook his head firmly. "Not me. I'd have been dead a long time ago if I'd done that. I have to keep movin', keep livin*.*'
    He held up a bottle, inspected its contents, then handed it to Melanie. "See that she gets one of these with a glass of warm milk at bedtime. That should keep her quiet till morning, even if the Devil does come a-callin'."
    He chuckled to himself and began shuflSing towards the front door. "You know, most folks go to the younger doctors up in Talladega nowadays, but that doesn't bother me any. I've got a few around like your aunt that still call me and make me feel needed. I guess that's all any of us want... to feel needed."
    Melanie smiled and nodded, liking the old man a great deal. He had probably been a very good doctor once,

    kind and sympathetic to all his patients, but now, he was old. She would have preferred that Addie go to one of the younger doctors in Talladega, but she knew that was out of the question. Dr. Ambrose had delivered Addie and Bartley's only child; for generations he'd been the Beecher family doctor, and he would be until he died.
    Mark stepped out of the parlor, and Melanie felt a shiver travel up her spine. Lately, he seemed to appear unexpectedly and to disappear with equal suddenness; she could never find him when she wanted to. Now he asked anxiously how his aunt was.
    Dr. Ambrose repeated what he had just told Melanie. "Addie must have absolute rest," he said sternly. "She's an old woman, and she's already had one stroke. Another could be fatal."
    Mark nodded compassionately. "We're so grateful that Melanie is here. She's going to be good for Aunt Addie. Maybe she can see to it that Aunt Addie follows your orders and takes the medicine you prescribe for her." Then he gave his cousin a warm look, and she wondered why he didn't tell the doctor the same thing he'd told her earlier—^how he wished she would leave! She had liked Mark at first, but now she found herself wondering if she liked him at all, especially as she listened to him telling such a boldfaced lie.
    Dr. Ambrose bid them goodnight, and Mark said that he would make sure the house was locked. Melanie called Butch inside and hurried upstairs to bed. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and she hoped she would rest better knowing Butch was beneath her bed, ready to bark at the least sign of anything strange.
    No light shined from beneath Cale's door. He must have retired early. It would have been nice, she thought, if he were still awake and she could offer to make hot chocolate for the two of them. She liked Cale—a lot— and she wanted their friendship to grow, in spite of his wanting her to leave.
    She took a warm shower, and before sliding between the cool sheets, she paused at the open window, sniffing the delicious fragrance of magnolia blossoms that filtered into her room. The full moon shone down on the wide expanse of lawn. Now, with eyes closed, she could turn back the clock to those happy childhood Sunday afternoons when she romped over that very lawn. The

    "grownups" would be sitting on the