by Marcy Wilson-Cales

Collinwood. We refer to it as if it in itself, a living, breathing entity, capable of its own intelligence.

And if that were so, the house had a unique ability indeed, to draw into its walls the people who were good for it. Barnabas could not bring himself to think of what would have happened to all of them, without Julia's participation.

But Collinwood is jealous; it slowly takes people out of their old lives and supplants itself in their stead.

Unaware of his thoughts, Julia slowly stirred her drink by swirling the liquid inside. Barnabas felt there was far too much liquor, and far too little coffee, inside it.

The words of Julia's assistant came back to him very sharply, as if he were not at this table, but again back in front of the desk of Wyndcliffe's assistant.

"She didn't mean to be incommunicado," Briget O'Fee, for all her very Gaelic name, was purely Nordic in her height and dark skin and ice-blonde hair, and her fingers were impossibly long and slender--made for violins and delicate surgeries. "She purely did intend to spend her week here."

"I don't understand." Barnabas repeated himself. "It's not like her to leave without word, or where she can't be reached."

Bridget rubbed her forehead ruefully, and Barnabas abruptly considered just how absent Julia must have been, under those circumstances, when she had been trapped in various times. But he already knew that Julia found Bridget utterly trustworthy, a confiaza since early childhood, and without that kind of friendship, and the unquestioning loyalty that came from it, Wyndcliffe would have suffered.

"I might as well tell you--Julia's so patently closemouthed about her own life, and I know you're good friends..." She smiled wryly, lifting her palms up in a ca va gesture. "I grew up with Julia. She did not have a very...ah...well..." Bridget paused. "Let's just say, my mother was more like her mother than Kara Hoffman was. And as for her father, he was just as absent. They've both been dead for years now, but...you see, Julia hasn't been home to Vinalia since she left at 18. It's been quite a few years now, obviously--! But it's taken THAT long for Kara's estate to finally settle itself out. The lawyers just sent a notice that they would "appreciate" her coming in and making sure there was nothing of the estate she didn't want, before they disposed of it."

Barnabas was frowning. "Why would it take this long to settle?"

Bridget laughed. "You'd have to personally experience the legal minds of a small Pennsylvania-border town to truly understand! She shook her head, sending a waist-long braid of silver-gilt hair rippling across her shoulderblades. "At any rate, Julia didn't want anything of her mother or father, but there was the hope that there might be some things of her grandmother's..." Bridget shrugged, a swan-like move. "She wasn't in a very good mood when the notice came in, and I was right there. The phone isn't hooked up to the house, and I know she won't bother getting one hooked up for a few days. She's very blase about technology, you know."

Barnabas almost smiled. "I have noticed." He admitted subtly.

"Anyway, I don't think she'll be down there more than a week, but if there's trouble or you want to talk to her, the only way you can do it is if you go down there yourself. And with the usual snowstorms, I don't eagerly advise you to do such a thing."

Barnabas was a moment in replying. Carolyn's face had kept to his eye all morning; pinched and worried...growing drawn and approaching illness.

He wondered, privately, if his little cousin's worry for Amy Jennings was partly her attempt to latch on to something that would distract her from her grief of Jeb. Julia would be able to tell him if he was right, surely.

But it wasn't just worry for Carolyn or for Amy, who was now upstairs in the wintry attic, playing silently with her dolls and avoiding even David and Hallie.

He missed Julia intensely, and even more so since they had been open to their feelings at the Christmas party.

Barnabas put the idea of difficult travel out of his mind for now. "Please, doctor, if you can tell me how to find her, I would appreciate it."

Bridget's smile was slow in coming, but warm. "We'll draw you up a map."

To Be Continued

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