Together Again: Spirit Travel Novel - Book #4 (Romance & Humor - The Vicarage Bench Series) (17 page)

Mrs. Dorn started to cry—big gulping sobs. Water gushed from her protruding eyes like a pot boiling over. “I can’t take anymore. I’ve been spinnin’ in me knickers too… Ere now, what’s that?”

Three pairs of eyes, all disbelieving, stared at the twitching body of the young teenager.

“Good grief! Sh-she’s coming back to us,” Dr. Andrews whispered, a decided hitch in his voice.

“Thank you, Lord.” Grace’s voice quivered

Mrs. Dorn spoke the loudest. “Lord love a duck, it worked.” Instantly her face cleared, the waterworks stopping as if by magic. “Our sassy little madam’s going to get a piece of me mind just as soon as she’s up to it, I’m warning you now.” Mrs. Dorn put her apron to good use mopping her face.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Troy missed Dani so much he couldn’t sleep or eat. The emptiness she’d left behind did fill up—with painful longings, endless soul-searching, and one-sided discussions. A week! Who knew that seven days could seem like infinity?

The local paper hounded him for more of his articles, and this kept him going—losing himself in other people’s lives. The tragedy of the fire inspired him. He’d never written better, or put more of his brilliant talent into every detail, every word. His genius was stretched to the max as he focused the readers, willing them to put themselves into the lives of those who were now homeless, terrified and in pain. Newspaper sales skyrocketed, and everyone talked about the event. What would happen to those poor lost souls?

Others who had suffered in the fire, and had read Susie’s narrative about her Harry, searched Troy out. Many had similar tales to share. It seemed, when written by Troy, memories became chronicles of the ordinary person who needed to be remembered.

That evening when he returned to the Inn, Bunty was leaning on the counter, reading the local daily. As soon as the bell jingled indicating a customer, she looked up inquiringly, then relaxed when she saw who entered.

“Troy, did you read this special coverage today on the front page, the comments made by Ellie Ward?”

“No! What does she have to say?”

“Other than the fact that her latest novel was released a mite early and had to be pulled off the shelves until next week, she made another announcement that has most of us townsfolk agog. The darling girl secretly bought a property called The Gardens a few years ago and now plans to turn it into a care facility for the Kingsly folks. They’ll have a place to go to when they’re ready to leave the hospital. A place where they can all live together again.”

He could tell what Bunty thought of the idea. Her face glowed with pride for one of their own. “I gather you’re in favour of this happening?”

“Well, of course I am, and all the others I’ve talked with today feel the same way.”

“What is this place you mentioned, The Gardens?”

“Right. You wouldn’t know about that old abandoned property. A few years back, a crazy Yank—no insult intended….”

“None taken.”

“The daft blighter decided to build a swanky resort outside of town as a getaway for Hollywood stars. It was to be top-o’-the-line. He didn’t foresee that we don’t do things in the same manner here like they do in your country. When the job didn’t go his way, he shut it down half-finished, and left. Never seen hide nor hair of him again. Not long after, it was listed for sale, with no takers. Big ol’ white elephant, if you ask me.” Disgust rang in her voice.

“So you think it’s a bad idea for Ellie to have offered this particular property for the Home?”

“Crikey, no. I think it’s a jolly good idea. It’ll take some work, but the bulk of the construction is finished, and the fancy large gardens won’t need much restoring. The stall came about over the fixtures and novelty items the silly sod demanded be shipped from all over the world. Workers to install such vulgar luxuries couldn’t be found hereabouts. I rather think he became discouraged at our bugger-it attitude.”

A smile spread over Troy’s face as the chuckle, he’d tried to hold back broke through. For a short time he looked like the same lighthearted fellow Bunty remembered from a few days ago.

“I gather the place is close to town and fairly large, then.”

“Oh, it’s huge. But if we keep to the basics for the improvements, the townsfolk will kick in as many free hours of volunteer labour as it will take to have it finished up in a hurry. I’ve no doubt it’ll be a smashing place for the old dears to live.” Her manicured finger pointed to the large photograph on page one. “Good on her, I say. Considering all she’s had to overcome, she’s a darling lass. Always has been.”

Her voice rang with the truth as she saw it, and her manner substantiated her belief. The community was proud of Ellie. Troy couldn’t pass up the chance to quiz Bunty further about the person who’d originally brought him to this small borough. He’d put her story on the back burner, but his intention had always been to find her eventually and get her to talk to him.

“What do you mean, after all she’s overcome?”

Bunty’s pride in the celebrated and popular author took over, and she couldn’t resist the chance to brag. “The poor girl dealt with some huge obstacles as a teenager. Folks around here thought her a piece of work and were ever so vindictive about her improprieties. Me, I’ve never set myself up to judge anyone, but regrettably not everyone felt the same. She had it rough and came through the worst of it as the lovely person you see today.”

Bunty didn’t gossip. He had to give her credit for that much. But he kinda wished she did, he had so many questions.

“Is Ellie married now?”

“Never was.”

“She has a little girl.”

“Yes. Amy. She’s a sweet child.”

“I met her, and I know what you mean. She’s a lovely little girl. Takes after her mum, does she?”

“In looks and personality. Amy has a million questions, just like Ellie always did when she wasn’t much older. I guess it comes with the territory, being as how she’s a best-selling author. Her books are sold worldwide. She’s quite famous, you know. And it never went to her head. We’re all very proud of her.”

Reminded of whom they were discussing, Bunty’s eyes narrowed. She backed away from the counter she’d been contentedly leaning on. And she shut down. He saw it in her eyes. Before that could happen, he had one last question.

“Since I’ve started writing on behalf of the victims, do you think she’d give me an interview about her plans for the new home? It would be a perfect ending for the columns, to let the world know the town has come through so well in this critical period.”

Eyebrows puckered and wrinkles appeared while Bunty considered his request.

“I could give you her unlisted number if you want to try making an appointment.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” He waited while she took a paper, wrote down the number, and passed it to him. He gave her the smile most women would sigh over before he went straight to his room to make the call.

For some strange reason the sadness that lurked inside him lifted when he heard Ellie Ward’s voice.

“Hello?” A low, husky drawl answered after the second ring.

“Am I speaking with Ellie Ward?” He’d assumed she would be the one to answer the phone, but politeness demanded he ask.

An obvious note of caution could be heard. “Yes?”

“My name is Troy Brennan. I’d like to speak with you about your plans for the care home at The Gardens. I’ve been publishing stories about the victims from the fire for the last few days. Getting an interview with you on your perceptions and why you stepped in would be a great followup. Maybe you’ve read some of my work in the local papers?”

Either his name or his opening speech seemed to sway her away from her initial attitude. Gentleness invaded her voice and the crispness faded. She spoke so softly he strained to hear her words.

“Yes, I’ve read everything you’ve written, and I’m very impressed. Can you come to my office tomorrow, in the morning? Say eleven, shall we? Come around to the back at my parents’ home, and you’ll see the office door. I believe you know where they live. You’ve visited before—or so I’ve been told. We’ll have lots of time to talk then.” As an afterthought, she quickly added, “Of course that’s if the time is convenient for you.” Velvet oozed from her softened tones.

“I’d be happy to.” Inside, his pulse quickened while his nerves started an uprising.
What was that all about?
“See you then,” he answered. His tone, in contrast, came across as very businesslike.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Daniell lay on her sickbed; still attached to the medical equipment she’d need for a day or so to monitor her vital signs. “Uncle Robert, you’ve got to believe me. I’m so terribly sorry for all the trouble I caused you.” The pleading in her eyes, proof of her sincerity, touched him as always.

“I know, darling. I’m honoured that you chose to come to me with your troubles in the first place. But that said, I should be shot for negligence, leaving my notes lying around for you to find and—”

“No, Uncle. It was entirely my fault. That day, I would have done anything to avoid having to deal with my problems. But I’ve changed, grown up, and I’ll work things out.”

“You know I’ll be here to give you all the help you need. And don’t mind your mum. She’ll come around.”

“I still can’t believe how badly she acted yesterday when she barged into the garden. If I hadn’t been so weak, I would have stopped her. I’m only sorry she took out her anger on the wrong person and slugged Mrs. Dorn. It wasn’t the poor old dear’s fault she was forced to lie. Do you think she’ll ever forgive us, and return to work here?”

“She’s already back. Seems after ‘the poor old dear’ slammed out, she waited in the back garden until your mother left. Then my crafty employee accepted a rather large pay increase for her black eye, with two extra weeks of paid holidays thrown in to cover her pain and suffering. And my solemn promise to get the house key back from your mother turned out to be the clincher.” He felt a silly grin creep over his face and couldn’t stop it.
What would he do without that gin-toting woman to look after him?

“It must have been a nightmare, keeping mother away for so long. I did try to come back last week but—I, I can’t talk about it.” He watched her trying to swallow the lump that clogged her throat. She choked, coughing intensely. Racking sobs interspersed with the irritated spasms. She was a mess.

Dr. Andrews, captivated by the various hues in her drenched amber-green eyes, gathered her gently into his arms. He rocked the slight body back and forth. This child, whom he loved more than anyone else, had the power to turn him inside out and upside down. He wasn’t surprised at the rush of sympathy throbbing throughout his body. He’d never heard this sweet girl cry with such heartbreak, and he couldn’t take it. His own eyes filled with sympathy.

“Dani, my dear, your mother will come to accept the baby. She needs time to recognize that not everything in life must conform to her expectations.”

“Yes, I know. With your help, Uncle Robert, I’ll get through these coming months until my little Amy is born. It’s the next ten years that are making me cry.”

“Ten years?”

“Yes. I met a man.”

“You met a man?” Moments passed. “And?”

“I lived with him, inside him, and we fell in love. He’s everything any woman could possibly ask for in a life partner. And he’s coming for me.”

Dr. Andrews waited for her to continue, a ploy he used often in his profession. She stayed silent, so he urged her with words. “He’s coming…”

“To my birthday party.”

“I look forward to meeting him; it’s only a week away.”

She groaned her next words. “My
twenty-seventh
birthday party.” Her shaking hands reached to cover her eyes as the deluge started once more.

“Oh, my dear. I’m ever so sorry.” He hugged her again as she became lost in her grief. Her body’s weakness added to her inability to gain control, but eventually the span lengthened between her hiccupping sobs, signifying she was nearly empty. When exhaustion invaded, the battle was lost.

She slept while he watched and ruminated about her out-of-body experience. She had to have travelled forward in time and met this man at some point in the future—ten years in the future, according to her words. He had no doubt she’d ultimately tell him all about this person and he’d follow up on the chap in his own way. In the meantime, she’d need him to be on her side. Poor baby. He leaned over to brush the wayward curls from her damp cheeks.

Baby!

She mentioned having a baby girl called Amy. Oh, well, then, how lovely! He couldn’t wait to share his glad tidings with Grace and Mrs. Dorn. It might be enough to get the housekeeper to stop glaring at him from her blackened eye.

In his favourite position, Doctor Andrews slouched in the rocking chair next to Dani’s bed and watched over her while she slept, a routine he’d started many nights ago. She didn’t know it yet, but he had dire warnings that needed to be passed on. His chest felt tight from his heart’s heaviness. He didn’t want to alarm her, but it was imperative she grasp the importance of his words.

She must not even think to change the future. No matter what might have happened while she time-travelled, it must be left to follow its natural outcome. He didn’t relish explaining this to the child. Her intelligence was never in question, but the concept would be difficult for anyone to fully realize and accept. He unlinked his cramped fingers from behind his head and lowered them to the arms of his chair.

His sister’s threat to leave Dani with him—supposedly because her ruined status was his fault—appeared to be the only plus he could look forward to. Even though he knew Marion wouldn’t stick to her caveat, he’d have this special girl under his protection for a bit longer. He’d care for her and lend his support, guide and spoil, love and…

My God! Ten years!

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Troy brought Buddy along to his meeting with Ellie. Since Dani left, he’d expected the pup to become more of a hindrance, holding him back, always there—a constant reminder. Instead, the furry little bugger soothed him, a link to his spirit-friend.