Wanted: One Ghost (15 page)

“What did you see?” April asked looking around at their surroundings, hoping to see something to bring everything into perspective.

Her aunt looked up at her with a wan smile. “I don’t see anything, honey. You should know that.”

“What did you sense, Vickie?” Grandma asked, correcting the difference of Vickie’s gift.

“Calm, tranquility. And then—” She stopped speaking, her brow furrowed. Vickie rose to her feet and walked silently, without answering, to where James stood along the top of the knoll over-looking the rest of his fields. Side by side they let their eyes roam over the emptiness. April and the rest of the women followed, confused.

“What do you see?” April whispered as she touched James’s arm,

He looked down at her, a small frown knotting his brow. “Nothing anymore. Just barren fields.”

“You don’t see them?”

“You don’t hear them?”

Her mother and grandmother spoke at the same time.

Dottie gasped, “Why, there are people out there working the fields!” She laughed with surprise.

“And they’re singing!” Her mother actually appeared delighted.

April had never seen such joy on her mother’s face at witnessing her gift. Most of the time when her mother experienced the slightest paranormal condition, she left the scene or went into immediate panic, knowing the migraines would follow. This time she stood there, on the knoll, listening with great pleasure. Her eyes were closed, and her face tipped contentedly towards the field. “Well yes, they did sing a good deal. It helped to pass the time.” James shrugged.

“What do you see or feel, April?” he asked, gazing down at her.

“Nothing.” She shook her head sadly, wishing she could participate and listen to their songs.

“Don’t feel bad, dear,” Aunt Vickie patted her hand. “I’m sensing this isn’t where you need to be. You’re needed…elsewhere…” she trailed off. Vickie turned towards the northeast and nodded. “Come with me.”

Being gently pulled by her aunt in the direction of the manor house ruins, April followed. She didn’t want to go back there but without a great deal of explanation she didn’t have much choice. Panic set in. Would it happen again? Would she feel the heat of the stone foundation? Part of her wanted to see if she did. Would she see the same scene?

“There’s something here. I feel a strong entity. More than one. I’m getting a sense of urgency, frantic. There are three souls involved in a chaotic event.”

She didn’t remember anything of the sort. There had been only two entities, a woman and a man but if someone else was there, she hadn’t picked up on them.

“I smell smoke…a fire perhaps.” Vickie walked closer to the foundation. She stopped at the edge. “I sense someone needing your help.”

Aunt Vickie closed her eyes momentarily and when she opened them she looked to April almost accusingly. “You know what you need to do. I sense you’ve already been here, come to your true gift—they need you. It’s up to you whether you want to help them or cause them to forever linger in their eternal nightmare.”

If this had been last week, April would think her aunt crazy. Now, she knew what the woman was telling her. She’d been through too much not to know.

Trembling on the edge of uncertainty April looked from the foundation ruins to her aunt. The older woman stared at her with sad acceptance. April knew she had to make the right choice. She hoped she was strong enough to make it.

Was she more her mother’s child? Afraid of her gift, whatever it was supposed to be? She needed to accept it. If not for herself, then for James or the two images she witnessed. Were they not flesh and blood people at one time? Didn’t they still have an emotional conscious?

But she didn’t want to go through the agony of what transpired the other day. Seeing those two people burn and not being able to do anything to save them…how could she help them now?

April found herself nodding to her aunt and lowered herself back down into the stone foundation. Sweat prickled her palms. Her heart throbbed erratically within the confines of her ribs. Nausea rose to her throat but she moved on, trying to locate the area of the wall she touched before. Would it matter?

Aunt Vickie nodded down at her. Okay, she would hold out her hand and see what happened. Maybe this time she would get lucky and nothing would.

Touching the stone, the heat hit her full force. This wasn’t the gradual heat exchange like before. Her hand stayed there. April expected to see the scene exactly as she remembered. Instead a fight was in progress. A burley man, dressed in clothes of a colonial dandy, materialized swinging a spade at a younger man dressed in simple working linens. The young man moved out of the way just as the shovel swiped where his head had been only seconds before.

The larger man, angered at the miss, threw the shovel to the side and took a dive at the smaller man, straight into his solar plexus. The two men fell against the wall. The big brute grabbed the other man’s throat with his hands and pounded his head into the stone foundation. April flinched and squinted against the gruesome vision.

Out of the edges of the scene a young woman leaped onto the older man’s back, beating him with her tiny fists. Determined to do harm, the woman continued to pummel him with everything she possessed. Her hair flew about her in wild disarray as the man tried to shake her off, like a wet dog shedding water. Looking from them to the other man, April could see he was unconscious—was he dead? She couldn’t tell. She couldn’t remove her hand from the wall to get a closer look.

Her thoughts of saving the man were interrupted when the woman ended up tossed near her feet. A strong scent of lilac filled April’s senses. The man approached them in a menacing stance, his mouth opened in a yell, but no sound came out. It was as if April were watching a movie on mute. Subtle movement from the prone man’s body caught the looming brute’s attention.

The distraction was enough to let the woman glance at her.
She could see her!
Her ghostly fingers worked frantically, toying with the trinkets pinned to her apron pocket, trying to communicate as if April were a part of the scene. The woman held the intricately carved piece of jewelry out to her, showing her the detailed design. It was difficult to make out. What was it? Could it possibly be a chatelaine? What did she want her to do with it? What could she do?

Sighing, the woman stopped and waited, turning her head and closing her eyes tightly from the scene happening behind her. April looked up to see the wild man pick up the spade, and with sickening accuracy, bring it down upon the other man’s unsuspecting head. There would have been no way to survive such cruelty.

The lilac scent was so strong now. The woman knelt before her. She opened her eyes, pleading with her, as tears streamed down her cheeks. Did the woman know what was going to happen? Was that why she was trying to communicate with her? This wasn’t a residual haunting then. Dear God was she actually an active participant in another realm of history?

April’s stomach knotted. She turned her attention to the woman who in a last ditch effort, yanked the delicate chain from her apron, and threw it towards her. Instinctively, April held out her free hand to catch it, but there was nothing but air. This was only an image, nothing tangible. The woman closed her eyes again in defeat, buried her face in her hands, and waited as if she knew what was to come.

The man approached them. Anger poured off of him like sweat. His meaty hands grabbed the woman, but his eyes strayed towards April. A brief moment of shock when he noticed her presence crossed his features before giving in to a foul sneer. His beady-eyed stare never left April as he forced the blonde woman over to the opposite wall.

Crying out, April tried with all her might to pull away from whatever held her against the stone wall. She knew what was going to happen. She’d seen it the other day. But how could she help an image of history long since past? She couldn’t stop the inevitable from taking place. But she didn’t want to witness the horrible scene again.

“Damn it, Aunt Vickie! Bring her back!” Her mother yelled in what sounded like a pool of deep water.

“Be gone!” Her aunt’s voice echoed in the far recesses of her mind.

Trembling violently, like the weeds and brush around her, April sat crouched against the remaining foundation. Tears streaked down her cheeks as the scene replayed in her head. Her grandmother’s arms enclosed her, pulling her into her embrace. Small touches and gentle kisses covered her hair and face.

The scuffle of feet on gravel and dirt brought her head up from Dottie’s bosom to see James jump into the foundation pit. He looked as if he just ran a marathon. His eyes wild and skin covered in sweat, he glanced around at each woman before squatting down and brushing away a tear from her cheek.

“What the hell happened?” James once again looked to Dottie for an explanation.

Her grandmother only shook her head. “She phased. One minute she was here and the next her body just shimmered into…” Dottie looked to Vickie for a possible answer.

Vickie stood by, her brow furrowed with confusion as she waved her hands in an ancient, ritualistic manner over the area where she’d sensed the spirits. Her mother sat on the edge of the foundation cellar pit, staring down at her. An odd look of understanding and horror mixed into her normal business-like expression. April shuddered. Pure adrenaline and shock racked her body.

“Sweetie, I need to help Vickie.” Her grandma kissed her forehead and nodded to James, releasing her to his care while she went to converse quietly with her aunt.

James’s arms settled around her as he sat against the rock foundation and lifted her onto his lap. His security and strength was a balm to her shattered soul. His hand lightly pressed her head into his chest where the rhythmic thrumming of his heart lulled her gently back into a more controlled state. His lips brushed the crown of her head as his strong hands roamed over her back with reassuring strokes.

April wasn’t an emotional weakling and never allowed herself to cling to anyone. For the first time since becoming a woman, she never wanted this moment in James’s arms to end. She barely knew the man—she wasn’t even sure if he was real and yet here he was. Her rock.

“We need to get her out of here and back home,” her mother spoke up finally as she stood, brushing dirt from her pants, and offered Aunt Vickie her hand to help her out of the ruins. Aunt Vickie nodded her agreement as she was pulled up from inside the wall.

“Is the house any safer for her right now?” James asked.

Her grandmother pondered momentarily, looking to Vickie for guidance. “No. You’re absolutely right, James. The entity is probably still there, waiting to harm her.” She motioned for her daughter and Aunt Vickie to help her out of the shallow pit. “We have work to do before April can return to the house.” Raising her hand up to the others so they could give her a hand out of the foundation, grandma pulled herself up over the wall.

“What happened just now?” James asked. The hollow echo of his voice rumbled in his chest against April’s ear. “You said she phased…”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” April stuttered as the shock began to wear off. “I hadn’t expected it to be so…The last time I did it, I was caught in the image of a fire. I was unable to move as a beam fell and the house collapsed on us.”

“Us who?” James asked with confusion, putting her away from him so he could see her face. “What are you talking about?”

Shaking, April looked around at the barren ruins. “The young woman was tied up. Alive and struggling while the fire raged around us. The man was lying next to her unconscious or dead, I’m not sure which. I couldn’t move away from the wall. I could only watch. It was horrible.” April shuddered. She glanced up at the women she’d trusted since birth, searching for answers in their eyes. “Did everything I witness really happen?”

“What are you talking about, dear?” her grandmother asked gently. She turned to her sister. “Vickie, what is she talking about?”

Her aunt didn’t answer. She was busy concentrating on the area around them. April was able to get her bearings, thanks to the sturdy, solid strength of James. With a bit of assistance from both her mother and James, she raised herself out of the cellar foundation to stand beside the others. James followed, maneuvering his long legs up the field stone wall and grabbing at a protruding root. She looked at the four people standing around her. This was it.

“Lately, my gift of psychometry has taken on more than normal activity. I thought it had to do with my allergies, but I think it’s really happening. I sometimes don’t even have to touch an object—just be near an active haunting or a site of great historical importance.” She turned to her mother. “The longer I’m connected, the more intense everything becomes. I can see images, residuals of a specific past and they interact with me,” April confessed as she tried to stem her tears of confusion. The worried expressions on the other women’s faces didn’t help. They only intensified her fears. For the first time in her life April was scared of her abilities.

Aunt Vickie stepped forward taking her hand. April let her aunt’s fingers trace the lines in her palms, studying the natural etchings represented there. Giving it a reassuring squeeze, her aunt looked from her to James and back. A moment of interest crossed her face, giving way to a sad smile. “You did more than see them sweetie, you phased. Somehow you can step into their realm, like James stepped into yours.”

***

Aunt Vickie and Grandma Dottie returned to the house to cleanse the malevolent spirit while they sent James and her mother to help April shop for groceries. Still, something kept April from feeling right about her surroundings when they got home. The prickling of sensations, like being around a highly-charged electrical atmosphere, kept her rubbing the chills from her arms.

When she asked if the area was clear both women appeared doubtful. They only shrugged.
Great, no one in her family knew
. They were the only people in her world she could rely on for metaphysical or paranormal situations and they couldn’t help her.

As she lay across her bed, trying to focus on her research books, James busied himself with pecking questions into the internet about anything he wanted to find out. She’d spent a good hour showing him how to use the keyboard and mouse. Then she’d given him a list of historical eras he might find fascinating since his death. So far, he’d managed to keep himself amused.

April’s mind wandered. What did her aunt mean when she said, she phased? Her mother hadn’t wanted to talk about what happened at the mill site after they’d left. But she needed answers. Had she actually ‘stepped’ into another realm from the past? Was there a reason she could witness what she had?

She needed to bury herself back into her research. Besides, if she concentrated on her job, she wouldn’t think about her connection to the ghosts and it wouldn’t affect her.
Yeah and the National Deficit would go away overnight, too.
She didn’t need to get behind on her original purpose for being in Kings Mill though.

Again, she feared the task was hopeless. When James took a break from surfing the net, she’d taken a moment to check her messages. Kenneth’s reply from her earlier email had come through. He was ecstatic about her revelation of documents being transferred to lawyers and he would look into it from his end. But he was curious to know where she’d found the information. She hadn’t thought about that. Could she pretend ignorance and say she never got his email?

Two hours later, April hadn’t found anything more to go on. This was ridiculous! Researching through information was better done with a peaceful atmosphere. She couldn’t concentrate at all. A part of her wanted time to be alone and think clearly. The other part of her didn’t want to be left alone after what had happened in her ghostly attack.

April closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lids, rubbing the tension away before opening them to a blurry view. Frustration and pent up energy had finally won out over her focus and intelligence. She closed her books, marking the pages with her various notes. Gathering them up, she placed them on the bedside table and began to pace.

“Are you all right?” James asked, looking up from the lap top.

She ran her fingers through her hair, untying her braid and letting it loose. “Am I all right?” She snorted. “I’ve managed to change the laws of nature by bringing a dead man to life. I touch ruins and see ghosts who are suffering intolerable fates. What’s even more troubling is they see me and think I can help them. I can’t! And you ask me if I’m all right?” Walking to the edge of the room, April lightly banged her forehead against the papered wall in frustration.

Gentle hands enclosed her shoulders, turning her around to face a solid chest. Warm lips brushed her bangs, the edge of her temple.

“I can’t shake the images, James. They were so real.”

He stroked her back, lovingly. “It was real. You were there, according to your grandmother and aunt. I know what you went through. I’ve experienced it for over two hundred years.”

“You’ve seen it? You’ve seen the manor house like I did?” April looked up into smoky gray eyes. She loved how James’s eyes changed with his moods. Right now they were a soft, wispy color but the other night, while sharing his embrace, they were steel blue.

“No. Not the manor house. I see the fields and the workers—just as I did when I was alive. I’ve even witnessed my execution. The first time it happened I was in the same state of shock you are in and knew I couldn’t do anything to change it.”

“Do you interact with the others in your realm?”

“There are no others. I can see them but they don’t know I’m there.”

“Then why is the young woman in my sightings trying to talk to me?” April asked more to herself than James.

“Is it because of your gift? Perhaps she’s asking for help, somehow sensing you have the ability to help her. I guess we just need to find out how to help her. Who is she?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen her twice in the manor cellar. Once when she was tied up and the house was on fire and then today when she was trying to protect the young man from the other man’s beating.”

“I didn’t have any women in the manor. A few of the men working my lands were married, but women never came out to the house…except…

His brow creased. “Describe these people you saw.”

April hesitated. What if he knew these people who’d died? What would he think? It really didn’t matter anymore. They would all be long gone, even if they had lived full lives. “The young woman was a bit shorter than me, with dainty features and blonde hair. I would venture to guess she was somewhere in her late teens, early twenties.”

April gave as much detail as she could remember about the three people. The young woman who interacted with her and the villainous man were easy to describe. But she hadn’t gotten a good look at the younger man other than to know he was younger and probably died from the knock to his head before the fire could claim his life.

She didn’t have a lot to go on and watched James’s brow crinkle as he tried to remember faces, the people from so many centuries ago. His face cleared and his eyes opened wide. “I know who your woman is. There is only one woman I would know by that description. Your ghost is Catherine Samuel, Henry’s wife.” His brow crinkled in confusion. “But what in bloody hell would she be doing in my cellar?”

***

The soft sound of April’s deep, even breaths alerted James she’d finally drifted off to sleep. He kept to his word and wasn’t leaving her side. The day’s activities had left her exhausted. His eyes adjusted to the night. He hoped to spot some clue that might tell him who or what dared to bother her. But he was met with only darkness.

Her soft hand rested on his chest. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips but damned if he could sleep with this woman so close to him. April insisted he sleep in the bed with her and not on a pile of blankets on the hard floor. How ironic she would choose a simple linen shift to wear as her night clothing. Did she think such an unbecoming piece of fabric would deter him from wanting her? Hardly! She could wear a grain sack and he would still want her.

Fully clothed in the jeans and a shirt he’d worn all day, he wasn’t comfortable. James slept
au naturel
when he was alive but would be damned if he did so now with April lying there, tempting him. She wasn’t one of his tarts from the local pub, nor a widowed matron looking for a reminder of sexual fulfillment. April was much more to him.