The owl stopped its hooting when a marsh hawk swooped down and landed in front of the house. It strutted about for a moment and then turned toward me. In the moonlight I could see its yellow-circled eyes fixed on me. It lifted its wings as if to greet me, and then as quickly as it had come, it flew off into the darkness where, I knew, it perched itself on a branch and continued to watch the house, watch me and watch my baby.
And I knew in my heart that Grandmere Catherine was here with me, whispering in the breeze, filling me with hope. I would make the right decisions.
Вы читаете Pearl in the Mist
