James had mixed feelings when he opened the third journal of the collection. The one written by Josiah had not mentioned the devil-like creature again. However, the second one, that of Josiah’s son, Jedediah Preston, made no mention of creatures, but did make note of nine deaths, spaced out over five years.
Deaths were bound to happen, especially in the early years of a settlement, but these all took place in the winter. And in every case, it appeared the victim wandered off a well-marked trail and was eventually found frozen to death.
Snow began to fall outside as he began to read, an irony not lost on him. Joshua Preston, author of the third journal, was not as careful or as neat a writer as his father and grandfather. His writing was spidery, and a little harder to understand. But his accounts were far more detailed, and made for more interesting reading.
Again, it was mostly news about who was courting whom, which crops were doing the best, and whether the deer were more plentiful in the east or west of the settlement. But then he came across a passage that stood out from the others.
I seen her again. Winter’s just barely started, but I seen her deep in the forest where the crick turns, James read. She’s so tiny I thought she was just a young’un, and I called out, thinking she might be lost. But she turned, and I could tell she weren’t no child from around these here parts.
James took a sip from ever present cup of coffee, stone cold as always. That Joshua wrote that he’d seen her again, indicated he’d seen her once before. Had he missed something? Rather than re-read the beginning of the journal, he continued on.
She waved at me to follow, and I took a couple of steps off the trail before I cleared my head. I remember the walloping David and me got when we thought we heard music out in the woods. We’s was about to follow it when Pappy came up and caught us. That’s why I never said nothing about seeing her two winters ago. O’ course I weren’t sure I seen anything back then. This time I held onto my cross and started singing hymns to block out the sound of her singing.
Pausing again, James couldn’t help the shiver of excitement. This was the first mention of the singing that was supposedly used to lure their victims away. Why hadn’t his father shown him this passage?
He tried to recall what he knew about Joshua. There was something about him . . . Damn! He remembered. Joshua Preston was the one who went crazy. He flipped through the rest of the journal and sure enough, it stopped abruptly two thirds of the way through.
As he recalled from family stories, stories unrelated to winter’s children, late one winter Joshua went beserk. He was out hunting and starting shooting at shadows. One of those shadows turned out to be his brother Ethan, who died of his wounds several days later.
James threw down the journal with a snort. Of course. The first real evidence of these so-called winter’s children and the source was a crazy man. He’d almost fallen for it too.
He stood up and stretched, then walked over to the window. It was still snowing. That would make Joey happy, he thought. The kid loved going out to play in the snow. Just like his grandpa.
With a sigh he went back to his chair. Trust Joseph to take the word of a crazy person at face value. Reluctantly he picked up the fourth journal and started reading the account of Jonathan Preston. Soon he was lost in the past once more.
“James!” Margaret’s sharp voice interrupted him, making him startle. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“Sorry, I guess I lost track—”
“—of the time,” Maggie finished for him with a sigh. “Well, you need to put it away and pick up where you left off tomorrow. Dinner’s ready and I’m not spending another night alone in front of the television.”
“I really am sorry, Mags,” he said, getting up and setting the journal aside. He went over and gave her a hug. “I promise, I’m all yours tonight. We can even stream one of those chick flicks you like so much.”
“You’d better watch out,” Maggie warned. “You’re in danger of becoming as single-minded as your father.”
“The only thing I’m single-minded with is getting to the bottom of my father’s fascination with this legend.”
“Just make sure it doesn’t become an obsession.”
James couldn’t suppress the shiver that went up his spine as he followed his wife to the dinning room. He wasn’t all that sure it hadn’t already started to.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Missed an installment? Catch up here:
Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
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