The Wells Brothers: Luke (12 page)

Moving down the aisle, she opened
the door to the right of the altar to find a small room.  On one wall hung
several hooks, a narrow wardrobe beside it, and a small desk on the other.  An
old wooden chair was neatly tucked under it, a mouldering armchair in the far
corner.

Elspeth appeared beside her.  “Must
be where the priest or minister changed into his Sunday best to preach to the
family and servants.”

“Shame there’s no clothing left.” 
Mikki opened the wardrobe.

“Won’t matter.  We can get the
clothes recreated.”  Looking around, Elspeth tapped her lips.  “I don’t know
whether to turn this into a museum-like piece, or open it up to services on a
Sunday for the guests.”

Moving back out into the church,
Mikki looked around.  “I like the idea of a small church for the guests.  It’s
nice.”

“I’ll have to think about it. 
Maybe look at having one denomination in the morning, another in the
afternoon.  Or maybe just a quiet place where people could come and pray and
have some quiet, reflective time, not an actual place of worship.”  Elspeth
moved through the aisle, tracing her fingertips across the back of the pews. 
“Hard to imagine that the preacher of this pious little church back in 1870 was
a brimstone and hellfire one.  It looks so peaceful.”

“Maybe that’s why the door is half
open,” Mikki said.  “The parishioners were in a tearing hurry to get out and
realise that the world wasn’t going to fall on their heads.”

“I bet the lady of the house was
sitting uneasily.”  Elspeth grinned.  “Imagine sitting hear listening to the
hellfire and brimstone preacher, knowing that you were boffing the stable
master while your husband sat stoically beside you, unaware.”

“Ah, but was he?”  Mikki wagged a
finger.  “According to the story at the museum, no one really knew if the man
of the house suspected his wife was cheating on him.”

“Going by his photo, he was an insipid
man with not an ounce of romance or passion in him.  I’m not surprised she went
for the lusty stable master.  Now your uncle, when he was alive, was a-”

“Let’s not go there.  Some things
a niece just shouldn’t hear.”

Smiling, Elspeth walked outside.

Mikki looked around the little church. 
The high ceilings, the pews, the shelves, the cross, it all spoke of a bygone
age when combined with the dust and cobwebs.  But it was also peaceful, and she
could just imagine the generations who must have sat here for services,
weddings and funerals.

Gaze drifting around, she could
almost see the family sitting at the front of the church, the servants behind
them according to their station at the mansion.  No doubt this place had seen a
lot of smiles and tears.  If she sat here at night, would she hear the whispers
of the past?  Maybe see a ghostly bride?  Though why there’d be a bridal ghost…then
again, it was said that one of the brides had married against her wish, that
she’d loved another man, and had hung herself on her wedding night after consummating
the marriage.

After a last look around the
deserted chapel, she went outside to see Elspeth already checking out one of the
graveyards.  Or what she could see of her with the weeds up to her waist.

“I hope you’re watching for
snakes,” Mikki called out.

Elspeth held up a stick.  “I
swished this around the grass as I came in, made sure I walked really slowly to
give time for the snakes to go away.”

“Or maybe you just irritated the
crap out of them and one is waiting right now to bite.”

Elspeth didn’t even bother to
glance her way.  “Nope.”

Hands in pockets, Mikki moseyed
over to the graveyard, admiring the angels standing high, the elaborate
headstones, the simpler headstones, even a cracked above-ground tomb.  Standing
just outside the graveyard, she eyed the fence.  Old, rusty, iron bars with sharp
tips.  Or they had been sharp.  “Do you ever wonder why graveyards have pointed
fencing?”

“To keep the riff-raff out.”

“Or,” Mikki lowered her tone ominously,
“to keep something
in
?”

Elspeth brightened.  “Wally said
there was a grave in unconsecrated ground.  Quick, check around the outside of
the fence.”

“Oh yeah, the bride.  She
committed suicide, and in those days they were buried in unconsecrated
ground.”  Always interested in old graveyards, Mikki quickened her step. 

Unfortunately, with all the high
weeds and grass, she had to take it slowly because of both snakes and being
unable to see properly.  It took her a little while of pushing grass and weeds
aside with her foot to find the grave.  Actually, she found it by tripping over
the small headstone and falling arse over tit over it.

Lifting her head, she called out,
“I’m okay!”

“With what?” Elspeth called back.

Realising that her aunt hadn’t
even been watching, nor see her through the weeds, Mikki replied, “I’m on the
ground.”

“Whatever for, sweetie?”  From the
abstracted tone of voice, she was deeply intrigued by something she’d seen.

Pushing to her feet, Mikki looked
over to see Elspeth bent almost in half as she valiantly tugged at a handful of
thick weeds and grass to try and reveal some of the headstone of which she
stood in front.

“Aren’t you rich enough to hire
someone to do that for you?” Mikki asked.

“I think this is the double grave containing
the remains of a wife and her captain who came back from World War One.” Elspeth
gave a heave and grunt, then staggered backwards with a few measly weeds in her
hands.  Disgruntled, she placed her hands on her hips and scowled down at the
grave.  “Clearing this graveyard is a priority.”

“So is making the mansion liveable.”

“Yes, but this captain gave his
life for his country, he deserves recognition.”

“His medals are in the museum.”

“Mikki, every man who died for his
country deserves the dignity of having his grave unforgotten.”  Elspeth looked
around.  “There are quite a few graves here.  I know!”  She snapped her
fingers.  “Some of these men died in the wars.  I’m going to have a statue honouring
them raised on the other side of the fence, have a war memorial of sorts. 
Brilliant plan!”  Beaming, she turned to Mikki.  “What do you think?”

“Actually, I think it’s a wonderful
way to remember them.”  Mikki pointed to the ground before her.  “Here’s the
unconsecrated grave.”

Tossing the measly handful of weed
and grass aside, Elspeth walked out of the fenced-in graveyard to Mikki’s
side.  Silently, they both looked down at the headstone.  It simply had a faded
name and date of birth and death.

“Wow,” Elspeth murmured, “that’s
bleak.”

“Maybe you should have a bigger
headstone made.”

“I want to keep the originals,
restore them if possible.  But we can do something nice for her, maybe a little
urn with a flowering plant or angel statue or something behind the headstone. 
She shouldn’t be forgotten.”

Arms folded, they regarded the
headstone for several contemplative minutes before Elspeth was once more on the
move.  “Look, over there is the servants’ graveyard.”

This cluster of headstones only
had a fence half as high as the family graveyard, the headstones plainer.

“Years of servitude,” Mikki
commented, “and they only got a lump of stone with their names and dates.”

“They probably counted themselves
lucky their employers would bury them and it didn’t fall to their families to
find the money.”

Mikki and Elspeth spent a pleasant
half hour checking out the headstones, Elspeth discussing her plans to restore
the graveyards while trying to keep them as original as possible.

Heading back to the mansion, Mikki
spotted Luke standing on the ground, leaning back against the veranda.  The old
posts were peeling, some of the cement chinked out.  Holding a sketchpad, he
was chewing on the end of a pencil while looking at the view ahead of him and
back at the sketchpad.  On the veranda beside him stood a stack of papers containing
the photocopied pictures out of the books, his sunglasses holding them down.

As his hands stroked the pencil
over the page, Mikki couldn’t help but remember the feel of that hand on her
back - and even more disturbing, those long fingers curling slightly under her
bottom as she’d sat on his lap.  Cripes, it was enough to make her cheeks go a
little red and her breath hitch at the memory.  Geez, she could still feel the
strength in those fingers.  Not to mention quite an intimate grip.

Hoo boy
. Mentally she
fanned herself.  She still couldn’t believe that he’d held her, looked at her,
the glint in his eyes totally wicked, almost carnal, and she was sure, so
damned sure, he’d been about to actually kiss her.

But that had to be her
imagination.  He’d been messing with her, she was sure of it, getting revenge
for her teasing.

Or she tried to tell herself
that.  Completely flustered by the whole episode, all she could do was drag on
her composure and keep on going like nothing had happened.  In fact, it was
easier when he acted like normal.  Made her think she’d imagined that carnal
gleam in his eyes.

“Luke, sweetie.”  Elspeth stopped beside
him.  “How’s it coming along?”

“Not bad.  Got a few ideas.”  He
pointed the pencil at the circular driveway.  “I think it would be beneficial
to keep this driveway like they did in the old days, that way taxis could drop
people off near the front.  The circular park in the middle could contain
masses of different coloured roses, they look good yet old fashioned.”  He smiled
down at her.  “Roses never go out of fashion, and they do well in drier
conditions once established.  The masses of colour are beautiful, and if we mix
them just right they’ll be a vibrant display to the eye.”  He turned the sketchpad
around for Elspeth to see.  “On the ground between the roses I was thinking maybe
Vinca ground covers.  There’s a variety of violet and white.  What do you
think?”

“Not bad.”  She studied the sketchpad. 
“I like the idea, but I wouldn’t want the whole area covered in roses.”

“I was thinking maybe a large fountain
in the middle.  Mansions sometimes had a fountain.  We could put a pathway to
the fountain for those wanting to walk to it.”

“But if we did the roses, wouldn’t
it detract from the fountain?”

“Okay.  We could use ground cover
roses.  That way you’d still have the colour and beauty, and be able to see the
fountain.

Elspeth nodded slowly.  “I like
that idea.”

“I’ll play with it a little more. 
Do you prefer another kind of flowering bush?”  Luke tapped the end of the
pencil against his chin.  “We can go grass and fountain, or grass and benches. 
Or grass with a border of flowers.”  He paused.  “I like flowers and bushes,
but it would be beneficial to also take into consideration that rain doesn’t
fall here much in summer, and drought has come through a couple of times
already.  Water restrictions can be a problem.”

“There’s a bore, so we could water
using that.”

“Yes, but it would also be good to
feature drought-hardy plants that look good, to show people they can have
water-wise plants and still have a magnificent show.  It’d be educational.”

Turning, Elspeth looked out at the
circular driveway, mulling over what he’d said.

Luke waited quietly, not saying
anything further, simply waiting for her to consider his suggestions.

Standing beside Elspeth, Mikki
tried to imagine the area as he’d suggested, but not being very imaginative in
that area, she sighed.  Feeling his regard, she turned her head to look at him. 
“I don’t have much imagination.”

Disbelief crossed his face.  “You
believe in ghosts.”

“I mean for gardens and such.  I kill
plastic plants.”

He clutched his chest.  “God, that
hurt.”

“I mean it.  I can’t keep a flower
alive to save my life.”

“Do you have any idea how much
that hurts to hear?  It’s a gardener’s nightmare come to life.”

“It’s my one sin.”

That had his eyebrow arching up. 
“
One
sin?  Red, you have more than one sin, trust me.”

“Oh, like you don’t?”

“What sin do I have?”

“Lust.”

“Back in a minute.”  Elspeth went
up the steps into the mansion, leaving the door wide open.

“Lust,” he echoed.

“Come on, Lukey-boy.  You have so
many notches on your bedpost it’s a wonder the bed doesn’t collapse from
weakening of the wood.”

“Red, you haven’t seen my bedpost
to comment like that.”

“Don’t need to see it.”

Placing the sketchpad and pencil
on the veranda, he very deliberately folded his arms.  “Uh huh.”

“You have a reputation.”

“Is that right?”

“Man of many talents.”  Pausing
for effect, she studied her nails with an air of virtuous nonchalance.  “So
they say.”

“So who say?”

“You know.”

A sudden shadow fell over her,
Luke’s folded arms coming into her view as he stepped right up to her. Man, the
muscles in his forearms were corded, his biceps bulging beneath the short
sleeves.  Fingernails forgotten, her gaze travelled upwards to the roll of his
pecs, higher to his broad shoulders, strong neck, firm jaw line, straight nose
and finally his slightly narrowed eyes, the blue of them so bright and bold.

Leaning down enough to make her
feel like he was crowding her, though he didn’t unfold his arms, he demanded, “Tell
me.”

So caught in his blue eyes,
off-balance by his nearness, she repeated stupidly, “Tell you?”

“Tell me where you’re getting this
information.”

Recovering, refusing to give him
the satisfaction of being the first to shift, she folded her own arms and
smiled brightly.  “Sue-Ellen, Maryanne, Donna, Harriet, Patty, and oh yes,
Jill.”

“My my, you do get around.”