Lucky Stars (51 page)

He walked to her, pulled the sketchbook out of her hand, tucked it under his arm then took her hand and pulled her out of the chair.

She watched him do this as if she was in a trance herself before her body jolted and she started, “Jack –”

He ignored her, leaned down, grabbed the box of pencils and, his hand still in hers, he guided her to his study.

There, he dropped her hand and positioned a chair at the window behind his desk. He went back to her, led her to the chair and, with a gentle shove, he pushed her into the seat. He gave her back her sketchbook and pencils and then turned to sit behind his desk.

As he opened a file, he felt her eyes on him.

“Jack,” she called softly.

“Yes, love?” He kept his eyes on the papers in front of him and forced himself not to look at her.

He was attempting to establish normal. Before the baby died, they hadn’t had time to create a “normal” but, when they did, he had decided this would be it.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

Minutes later, when he allowed himself to glance at her because he heard her pencils scratching on her pad, he saw her head was bent and she was drawing.

He pulled in breath slowly and, just as slowly, he released it.

And when he did, some of the tightness he’d been carrying in his chest for three and a half weeks released as well.

They all had dinner together, Jack made certain Belle came with him when he walked the dogs and when they returned, they sat talking with Lila, Joy, Yasmin, Cassandra and Angus.

When it was clear Belle was ready for bed, most of the others having already left one by one, Jack, his arm around her waist, guided her up the stairs.

She was Belle and therefore unable to hide her reaction to the stairs which he knew throughout the day she’d avoided. He stayed close, his arm firm around her, his tread steady and they made it to the top after which he heard her let out a little sigh.

He wanted to give her a squeeze or a kiss, some reward for facing that fear but he didn’t call attention to it and simply led her to their room.

Now he was lying in their bed on his side, waiting for Belle to finish in the bathroom.

His eyes were on the door when it opened and she came out, wearing a simple pale green nightgown with thin, satin, pastel blue straps and a matching sheer pastel blue ruffle at the hem which came to mid-thigh. Her hair was down, her cheeks were pink and she was rubbing lotion in her hands. But her eyes, which skittered around the room looking anyplace but the bed, betrayed her nerves.

And, Jack thought, she never looked more beautiful.

“Come to bed, poppet,” he called softly when she hesitated.

She wet her lips and walked to the bed.

Gretl
and Baron had greeted her at the bathroom and they followed her. She paused to rub their heads and then commanded quietly, “Down,” and they both settled at her side of the bed.

She turned to him and hesitated, so Jack leaned forward, took her hand and gave her a gentle tug. She came toward
him,
he caught her at the waist and pulled her over his body as he yanked the covers up to her waist.

She lifted up with a forearm in his chest and looked down at him.

“Jack.” Her sweet, musical voice was tentative, her glorious grey eyes were stormy and she announced, “We need to talk.”

“We do, poppet,” Jack agreed and he watched her face register surprise.

For the purposes of containment, as well as other reasons, Jack’s arm tightened at her waist and his other hand slid up her back to capture her hair in a loose fist.

Then he said, “Belle, I need you to tell me about that night.”

Her body jerked before it grew tense and her eyes, stormy before with whatever thoughts she carried, were tempestuous now.

“Why?” she asked, the thread of fear starkly evident in her tone.

He used her hair to pull her face to his and he touched his lips to hers before letting her draw back and answered, “Because I need to know and because you need to share so you can let it go.”

“Jack, I don’t think –”

“Belle, love, we need to talk about this.”

“But, you –”

“Tell me, poppet, say it fast then it’ll be over,” he encouraged.

“But –”

His arm tensed and she stopped speaking, “Belle, tell me, I need to know.”

She gazed at him a minute, her cloudy eyes dark then she closed them tight, opened them and whispered, “I don’t want to tell you because you aren’t going to believe me.”

It was then, his body tensed.

He forced himself to relax and asked, “Why wouldn’t I?”

She shook her head and in return Jack gently shook her.

“Belle, whatever happened, I’ll believe you.”

She wet her lips nervously before she asked, “You will?”

“Yes, I will,” he replied firmly.

He watched her swallow then she said, “It’s going to sound daft.”

“It won’t sound daft.”

Her eyes moved from his to his shoulder then his ear and he watched as she came to a decision before she nodded. Her gaze finally came to rest on his and she spoke.

“Okay, you need to know.” He nodded in encouragement and she continued, “I’d just got off the phone with you. I was hungry and I told the dogs we were going to see about dinner.” She stopped talking and Jack’s fingers released her hair but slid through its length, coming back to slide through again and he felt her relax against him as she went on, “I was walking down the hall. I was preoccupied, the dogs were with me and then, all of a sudden…” she paused again and took in a breath but didn’t continue.

“Go on, poppet,” Jack urged, still stroking her hair as his other hand started to draw circles on the small of her back.

She nodded again and whispered, “I was at the top of the stairs. The dogs, they had pressed close to my legs and for some reason, they started to growl.” Jack stopped his hands stroking and circling and he wrapped his arms around her as she carried on in a barely there whisper, “It was strange. I started to ask them what was wrong but I saw…”

When she seemed to falter, Jack pressed gently, “Keep going, love.”

She shook her head but, her eyes locked on his, she said in a rush, “I saw movement on the stairs. It was Lewis. He was drifting up the stairs toward me. He was going so fast, Jack, so very fast. I could tell right away something was wrong.”

Jack’s arms convulsed but she kept talking.

“He stopped and shouted at me. I don’t remember what he said but I remember that he knew my name. He shouted my name and then…” Jack felt her body begin to tremble and her hand moved up, her fingers curled around his shoulder, digging in, holding on. “Jack, I swear, I felt a hand in my back and it pushed.” Tears came to her eyes and she whispered, “It pushed me down the stairs.”

Jack’s arms spasmodically tightened and it took effort to loosen his hold.

“Do you believe me?” she asked softly, the tears still shimmering in her eyes.

“Of course I do, love,” he replied absently, his thoughts on Angus’s words, that a ghost couldn’t touch a human which meant, if Belle had been pushed, someone had pushed her. “Did you see someone there?” Jack asked.

She shook her head. “I didn’t get the chance to look.”

“The dogs, you said they were growling. Do you think they saw Lewis?”

Belle kept shaking her head. “Lewis was in front of me but when I glanced down at the dogs, they were looking behind us.”

“Did you feel anything?” Jack enquired.

Her face turned from fearful to confused and her head tilted to the side before she asked, “Feel anything? You mean the hand in my back?”

“No.
Anything else.
Did you feel anything?” Jack repeated, “Hear anything?
A presence.
Did you sense someone there?”

She shook her head.
“No, nothing.
But the dogs did and I think Lewis saw something.”

“You didn’t hear footsteps, sense someone moving behind you?”

She kept shaking her head.
“Nothing.
But my mind was somewhere else. I just woke up from a nap and had talked to you and…” She stopped and her eyes slid to his ear.

“Belle, love, look at me,” Jack commanded gently and after a long moment, when her gaze finally moved to his, he urged, “And what?”

“And the baby,” she whispered and his chest, which had relaxed, got tight again at her mentioning their child. “I was talking to the baby about you, before you called. And, when I was walking down the hall, I was thinking about dinner and you and wondering how long it would take for you to get home…”

At those words, instantly, the tightness in his chest released and he cupped the back of Belle’s head and pulled her face close to his throat.

She resisted but only a little before her body relaxed into his.

When it did, Jack asked, “What were you saying to the baby about me?”

He was gratified to feel her nuzzle closer, pressing her forehead against his jaw as her fingers clenched his shoulder.
“Just telling him that you were right.
I’d met Cassandra and Angus that evening and they were so strange. I was telling the baby you were right about it not going back to normal and boring.”

“I
was
right, my love, things are definitely still not normal and boring and, with those two and your father in the house, I fear things will not be normal and boring for some time.”

Her body tensed then eased and he couldn’t believe his ears when she let out a short, strangled giggle.

His arms clutched her even closer and he was beyond thrilled when she didn’t resist but, instead, melted.

After several long, satisfying moments, Belle shared on a whisper, “I know you’re going to think I’m even crazier, but, Jack, I’m scared of the stairs.”

“That isn’t crazy, Belle, not after what happened.”

Her fingers pressed into his shoulder and she cuddled even closer. “Okay, but, this is even crazier,” she pressed ever closer and admitted, “Jack, I think there might be something in this house that wants to hurt me.”

He rolled to his side, taking her with him and he placed his fist under her chin and tipped it up so he could look in her eyes. They were still stormy with worry but the tempest had subsided.

“Tomorrow, we’ll talk to Angus and Cassandra.”

She tilted her head into the pillow and, seeing it and loving it when she did that, Jack couldn’t stop his smile.

“We will?” she asked.

He nodded. “We will, poppet. They’ve been working while we’ve been away and they assure me you’re protected.”

Regardless of the fact that there was evidence to suggest that there was something amiss in his house and something mysterious about his connection with Belle, Jack still thought Angus and Cassandra’s assertions
were
rubbish.

But he knew Belle didn’t.

And he was willing to use whatever he could to calm that storm in her eyes.

His tactic succeeded.

She took a shuddering breath and gave him a tentative smile.

Jack allowed himself a moment to let her smile settle in his chest and his gut then he gave Belle a squeeze before he rolled and turned out the light.

When he had them settled, the front of Belle’s body cocooned to his, she spoke softly, “Jack, we need to talk about something else.”

“What, love?”

She hesitated and said, “This.”

“This?”

“This. Here.
Now.
You.
Me.”

He gave her a squeeze and whispered, “No, poppet. The one thing that we don’t need to talk about is this. Here.
Now.
You or me.”

“But –”

“All of that is the only thing that’s good and right in this fucking crazy mess.”

She was quiet then she asked, “It is?”

“Don’t you feel it?” Jack asked in return.

Her reply was breathy and hesitant, “I want to.”

He gave her another squeeze. “Then do it.”

“But, the baby… it’s what drew us –”

Jack gave her another, tighter squeeze, halting her words. “I thought I said we weren’t going to have this discussion.”

“But we have to!” she cried, her voice beginning to rise.

His hand came up to fist again in her hair and he used it to pull her head back gently.

Then his lips sought hers in the dark and he reminded her, “Belle, if you remember, there was no baby when I made you mine.”

“Jack –”

He cut her off, “It’s a sad fact that there’s no baby now. It hurts to think about it. It makes my chest tight and my gut ache. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still mine.”

“It makes your chest tight?” she whispered.

“And my
gut ache
.”

“Really?” she breathed.

“Yes, my love.” He tucked her face in his throat and went on, “But even with our loss, after your accident, I still felt lucky because I didn’t lose you.” He spoke cautiously, not wishing to feed into her fears but needing her to understand. “You could have been hurt in a much worse way, poppet, and, you being here, in our bed, in my arms, for that, I feel lucky.”