The Widow's Walk (26 page)

Chapter 36

Holding onto each other for moral support as well as warmth, Mike and Mae hurried over the snow kissed grass. Light from the house reflected off the white blanket, casting an ethereal glow over the wooden structure.

His toes went numb in the damp sneakers, but he was sweating–that awful nervous kind that stank like you hadn’t washed in weeks.

Liz, bundled in her coat, clutched what could only be the baby wrapped in a blanket against her chest. Her hood was down, her hair dotted with snowflakes. She stared at a small fenced in area to the left, oblivious to their approach.

Mike ran toward her. A wall of cold, more dense than even the winter chill, stopped him in mid-stride. She turned to him, eyes a vacant stare. Elisabeth had taken over Liz’s body. The baby, swathed in a woolen blanket, wearing a hat and a hood stared intently over his mother’s shoulder.

Gooseflesh prickled, Mike’s hair tingled at the roots. A luminous apparition of Edward Barrett appeared out of the trees, dressed in a tattered seaman’s tunic and trousers and muddy boots, a watch cap atop a head of bushy curls. His pink lips curled into a smile amidst a tangle of beard.

Elisabeth transfixed, unmoving, unblinking, stared as the silver shadow moved her way. Edward glided to her side.

The apparition of another man rose from the graveyard and placed himself between the pair. He spoke, oblivious to or unconcerned with Mike and Mae’s presence. “What are the two of you doing here? And who is that miserable whelp you’ve brought along?”

Elisabeth’s high born British voice condescended. “This is your grandson, Father.”

The man’s face twisted in fury, as if he were in pain. “That would mean you were my daughter, which you are not.” His piecing glare turned to Edward.

The seaman’s voice, hoarse from barking orders, projected as strongly as Baxter’s. “I once swore I would stand in your presence again, my Lord, and look you in the eye as an equal. I had no idea it would take so long, but I’m here, nonetheless. I went to my grave accepting that what I did was wrong, and instead of wallowing in my own misery, set about to make things right for everyone I’d harmed. That’s more than can be said for any life you’ve touched.” Scorn oozed from Edward’s voice. “I’d say I turned out a better man than you, didn’t I? A far better one.”

“Leave!” Lord Baxter bellowed.

The living being inside Mike’s body quaked, though the ghost paid him no heed. Mae sobbed quietly and hid behind him.

Edward did not relent. “I will not. My business with you is done, Lord Baxter. Now I beg of you go back to your miserable lot, with your unhappy brood, and leave me to reconcile with my wife.”

Elisabeth, now fully in control of Liz, moved closer to Edward. “Go, Papa. Guard your pitiful legacy in your miserable little graveyard. Was it worth the glory of terrorizing and defeating all of us to then spend eternity as unhappily as you lived your life? Learning what you did after I fled makes me only more certain leaving was the best thing for me. I regret the pain I caused Mama, but she made her choices as well.”

Baxter screeched and evaporated into the darkness.

Mae, fully engulfed by Katherine, stiffened and stared at Elisabeth and Edward. “I’ll take my leave now, My Lady. It is not my place to be here at this time. Summon me when you have need of my services.” She walked back to the conservatory.

Mike, now the sole, intact human amongst the spirits, allowed the emboldened Jared to emerge. He’d waited two lifetimes for this moment, and there was no reason to deny him.

Edward approached him. “And what of you, Jared?”

“I have no intentions of leaving without my wife, Captain.” Mike sensed no ill intent. He held his head up, did not back away.

Edward smiled and bowed his head. “And so it should be, my friend. So it should be.” He hovered above ground, at least two heads above them both.

Elisabeth walked toward him, the baby in one arm, her other outstretched. Edward’s boots touched down, and he glided toward her.

Mike’s heart beat in his throat. “Don’t touch him, Liz.” He started toward her.

Too late. Her hand cut through his mist. She stared at it as if it were covered with blood and gore, then wrapped both arms around the baby again. “Edward.”

As if locked in eternity, in their own private world, the pair stared unblinking at each other. Edward appeared more substantive than the other ghosts. Almost real. Almost. And Mike’s son, his living, breathing child was sandwiched in between them. Eddie gazed at his biological father like he knew him, though how could that possibly be?

Mike’s voice trembled. “Liz, please back away.”

Eddie turned toward Mike’s voice and grinned. For all he knew, his mother and this apparition where as alive as he.

Elisabeth, Liz–who ever she was at this moment–and Edward ignored him.

Edward’s voice rang clear, like a country church bell, soothing, forlorn. “What are you doing here, my love? The choices you made: To marry me, to leave London and your family, your inheritance, were made freely. Your mother would still have died, your father would still have remarried. Decisions made cannot be reversed, nor consequences remedied. Because of my foolish mistakes our happiness, too, was short lived. I came back to put things right but can not walk amongst the living any longer.”

“But you’ve never seen your son. You left before he was born.” She proffered the bundled toddler, still transfixed by the glowing image.

“And he’s a beautiful boy. I see the best of both of us in him. Cared for by a wonderful mother–and a devoted father.” Edward glanced toward Mike, then at his son. His smile mellowed, his head shook. “How I wish I could hold him. But he knows me through you, Elisabeth.”

The ghost bent to kiss the baby.

Mike lurched toward them. “Don’t touch him, Edward! Liz, back away. Don’t let him touch Eddie!”

The invisible wall of cold pushed Mike back again.

Edward spoke directly to Mike. “I’d never harm him, Jared.” A luminescent hand rested on the baby’s forehead and he bent to brush his cheek against his son’s.

Mike’s throat clutched; he expected the baby to convulse, vomit, panic.

Eddie smiled sweetly. A melody danced in the air and whirled around Mike’s head.

“Thank you for bringing him to me, Elisabeth. I hope knowing that he now has met his sire has comforted you. But his father stands behind you. You must go with your husband. You must go home. Think of me, yes. Know that I will always be but a whisper away, in a splash of a wave, in the call of a gull. But you walk among the living once again, and must never forget that.” Edward nuzzled Liz’s cheek.

Tears glistened on her face. Her eyes blinked, as if Elisabeth had come back to life. “Edward, you came to me in body once and gave me this child as a gift. Why can’t you return once again?”

His voice deepened, touched with anger, frustration. “I can no longer cross the veil. With each step you take toward resolution, I take one further away. That is the way it should be–you must move toward life and away from death. I am at peace, and so should you be. Go home. Now.” He drifted toward Mike.

Please, God, don’t let him touch me. I’ll be dead for sure.
Mike couldn’t move, run. He braced for the biting chill, the aftermath. His eyes were drawn, fixed, to the ghost’s unblinking stare.

Edward swirled around him, but made no physical contact. “Thank you for taking care of them, Jared. Take her home. Make her yours. Make her forget me.” He tipped his hand in salute and dissolved into spits of snowflakes twirling around them, alighting on their clothes, their hair, covering them like a cold blanket.

Liz sank to her knees sobbing, rocking the now sleeping baby in her arms. Quaking, his knees like rubber, Mike staggered toward her. “Let’s go, Liz. Captain’s orders.”

She didn’t move. He summoned the strength to pull her to her feet. Liz leaned against him as they walked down the gazebo steps toward the conservatory door.

Mae watched as he half- carried Liz along, through a circle of fog she’d wiped off the window, as Katherine must have watched, unquestioning, discretely over her mistress. Warm, moist air streamed out as they stepped inside.

Mae said nothing and took the baby from Liz. “Oh, Eddie,” She stroked his hair and the sleepy child grinned and snuggled up to her.

Warmth, relief flooded Mike, courtesy of the hothouse as well as from knowing the child was in the custody of a living, breathing human. Was he all right? The cloying odor of gardenia, of lily pollen, irritated his nose. His eyes watered.

Mae clutched Eddie close. Tears dribbled down her cheeks. She stroked Liz’s arm. “We were so worried.”

Liz swallowed hard and stopped crying, but her chest still heaved with emotion. “I’m sorry, Mae. No one understood what I needed to do.”

Thank God. It was his wife’s voice, her inflection. All traces of the British gone.

Mae looked at Mike, then down. “I’ll take Eddie while the two of you talk.” Her voice was softer than normal, no brogue, no distinct accent. She, too, was moving between the two worlds, regaining control over her thoughts, emotions.

Liz fumbled in her pocket. “Here’s my key. Room 4.”

“Well, eh, yes.” Mae, tangled in a rare moment of speechlessness, took her leave.

Mike faced Liz, disheveled, forlorn. Her eyes met his. Yes, his wife was back in control of her body.

“Mike, I, I . . .”

“I don’t think there is anything you can say to justify what you did. The risks you took.” A fury surged through him, unbidden, uncontrollable as Jared, goaded by Edward’s words, struck like a venomous snake. He’d insinuated Jared was weak, and hadn’t fought hard enough for her attention. And he was correct; gentlemen only finish first in the movies.

He took Liz into his arms and pressed his lips to hers, a little too rough. As his ragged, untrimmed beard scratched her cheek, he imagined it irritated her soft skin, might even hurt. He felt nothing when he looked at her, not relief, not desire, not even anger. Did he want to take the chance Edward had given, or should he just walk away?

“Once we get home you’ll have to convince me I didn’t make a mistake when I married you.” Mike went to see his son. Yes,
his
son, leaving her standing there alone. Now it was his turn to make the demands.

Liz stood in the dark, deserted conservatory, shaken by Edward’s visitation, the confrontation with Elisabeth’s father, and Jared’s manifestation through Mike. Her fingers and toes burned as they re-warmed. Elisabeth’s scarred soul ached deep inside. Yet a spark of relief, not unlike the doctor telling you the biopsy was negative, had ignited. It was almost over. Now to rebuild the damage that had been done.

Mike might not realize it, but she’d seen the look in his eyes, the blank stare. She’d heard Jared's edge in his voice, razor sharp, honed by the grinding stone of misery carried for far too long.

The warmth, welcomed at first, quickly turned to an oppressive heat. Her head pounded–a combination of the paranormal hangover, lack of sleep, and mind-numbing emotion. The last time she’d touched Edward, the night she’d conceived, she almost drowned following him. Tonight, his message to Elisabeth was clear, her life was over and the wrongs righted. She should let Liz go back to her husband, and to life. But would the ghost take heed?

She craved the feeling of Mike’s skin against hers, his arms holding her close, steadying her, possessing her. Liz needed the warmth of his body to rout the ghostly chill of Elisabeth’s soul.

Liz made her way to her room, hoping to avoid Emma and James. But as soon as she walked back into the main hall, the two of them hurried down.

“Liz, where’s Eddie? We were so worried when you didn’t come back for dinner, and then . . . ”

James cut Emma off. “A man and a woman came looking for you and the baby. The woman speaks with the oddest accent I’ve ever heard. The man looks like he’s a spring wound too tight, about to explode. We didn’t tell them you were here.”

“My husband and Eddie’s nanny missed us and wanted to surprise me. I got so busy in London, and Iman picked me up late.” She hated lying, but there was no other way to explain. “They’re up in my room with Eddie while I took a walk to the graveyard and to the gazebo. It’s so beautiful outside in the snow.

They looked askance at each other.

James studied her face. “I’m sorry we were so inhospitable to them, but we wanted to keep your presence here private.”

Liz tried to change the subject. “They’ll understand. I know it’s too late for dinner, but I was going to get some milk and a snack for the baby.”

Emma grabbed her arm. “Nonsense. I will heat up a meat pie for you and bring up a tray. You look frost bitten and exhausted. Are you sure everything is all right?”

Liz blinked. Any makeup left on her face crackled under her eyes. “The snow . . . my face got wet. I’m going to have a nice long bath after I eat.” Finally, something she said was true.

“I’ll be up in a flash,” Emma went to the kitchen.

James offered his arm. “Let me walk you up. I want to offer my apologies to your husband.”

There was no gracious way out. “All right.” She took his arm and they went upstairs.

Mike sat on the bed, rocking Eddie. The baby was in his pajamas, sound asleep, still hanging onto his father. He and Mae looked up when she stepped through the unlocked door, prepared to pounce.

James’s presence offered a momentary buffer. “Mr. Keeny, I must offer my apologies for the ungracious treatment you and Mrs. Fitzgerald received when you arrived. I will credit the cost of the second room immediately.”

Mike continued to sway, even though the baby was dreaming peacefully. “I’m glad you took such good care of my wife and son. We’ll be using the room, so no credit is necessary.”

“Thank you for understanding. We will discuss the rate adjustment tomorrow, then. Emma will be up shortly with tea, and some supper for Liz. Too bad the nipper is already asleep and missed his dinner.” He exited.