Wanted: One Ghost (21 page)

When James walked through the front door, shortly after five, her heart gave a leap. It wasn’t because of the fantastic sex—though her body flushed at the memory. It was the fact he was still alive, still here, still hers…for now.

They sat down to the family meal. James sat across from her. The women all exchanged knowing glances but said nothing.

“You slept quite a long time today, April dear,” Grandma Dottie finally broke the tension by teasing her. “Last night’s event must have really worn you out or was it the battle of wills you and James had earlier?” She looked to James. “I do hope you showed her a good ‘what for’ young man. She just doesn’t listen to reason, I’m afraid. It’ll take a special guiding hand to get her to understand.”

James coughed slightly, bringing his linen napkin to his lips and taking a sip of his wine.

“Mother, I do believe we have a blushing ghost,” her mother tried her hand at a joke. “So you are guilty of having sex with my daughter?”

“Mom, don’t scare him away.” April tried not to blush. Had they been too loud? Were the walls a bit thin?

James cleared his throat nervously.

“How are you feeling, April? We were so worried last night.” Aunt Vickie came in from the kitchen, on the end of the current conversation and placed the bowl of green beans on the table.

April was thankful for the intrusion. Whether or not the woman overheard the conversation, she was good at changing the subject. “I don’t know, it’s all so hard to explain. It felt like a nightmare, only real. I couldn’t wake up from it. I was unable to move my hand.”

“Like in the manor ruins?” her mother added.

“Exactly. But I could feel everything. Catherine stepped into my body, used me for some reason. I don’t know. Maybe to explain what had happened from her point of view, or maybe so I could hear what was going on. Henry Samuel kept forcing me to watch James’s execution, saying all these horrible things to her. He definitely accused her of an affair with you, James.”

“God as my witness, nothing happened. Catherine came out occasionally to the manor and dropped off scones and occasionally tended to someone who was sick or injured. She always brought along her personal maid as a chaperone.”

“What about Henry’s ill treatment? Did you notice anything about her when she did visit?” her mother asked. “I get the impression he might have been an abusive husband.”

“In our day we didn’t question a man’s behavior within his own family. Unless we saw something personal, nothing was said. Women didn’t speak ill of their husbands to others,” James explained.

“I never saw any visible marks on the young woman. She seemed timid and rather quiet. But she loved to bake scones, pies, and biscuits. She would bring them out to us when she needed her ration of flour for the fortnight. Our enjoyment of her sweet baked goods always made her blush so prettily. She reminded me of Elsbeth. I would send a letter off to my sister every time Catherine came out to see us.”

April still couldn’t help but feel an immense sadness for the trials and tribulations Catherine must have gone through. The only times she witnessed her were during times of great duress and she knew she’d only gotten a taste so far. But if the man was as aggressive with his young wife as April witnessed first-hand, then she could understand the girl’s fear of him. Was she still trapped within her fear as a ghost?

An idea formed inside her head. What if Hell was actually reliving the past horrors of your life when you died? Would a residual haunting be equivalent? James said he viewed his demise over and over again. Was Catherine’s entity looped in the same hellish nightmare?

“James, how often did you view your execution?” April asked.

“I am not sure. I’ve viewed it enough to know what to expect but still, I’m never allowed to interact with the images around me.”

“What if Catherine were trapped in the same ordeal? Wouldn’t she want some way out of it after all this time or would she be as accepting of it all as you are? She doesn’t seem to be as strong, emotionally.”

James paused, cutting into his ham slice. “You do have a good theory.”

Aunt Vickie nodded in agreement. “From what you’ve encountered of her, April, I think she might be trying to seek you out because she senses your gift. She’s our connection into the realm and possibly, as we talked of yesterday, set up our clues for us. She may know the secrets to James’s death, why he was accused of treason. We need to work on contacting her. She’s our ‘seer’ in the other realm.”

“She’s already ‘seen’ me. The first time I saw her was at the manor house. She acknowledged my presence in her residual time,” April said. It all made sense now. Catherine saw her both times at the manor house and again in the bedroom. Catherine was trying to contact her!

“Then we already have the connection we need. We just have to remain in her realm long enough to interact and explain the truth,” Dottie explained.

“Mother, are you suggesting April continue this? Didn’t last night prove to you how this could affect her? It’s bad enough coming to terms with our gifts, but this is cruel. You’re asking your granddaughter to give up her sanity for something that happened two hundred years ago.” Her mother turned to James. “No disrespect, James, but I love my daughter and will not risk her life, physically or emotionally for this crazy idea.”

“I understand your concern, Virginia. But if I know your daughter, she won’t rest until the job is done.” James nodded slightly and gave April a wary smile.

Grandma smirked at her mother’s deep agitation and turned to lightly punch her. “Wow, did he peg you, April.”

Still Virginia wasn’t amused. “This is history. This isn’t life and death, April.”

April reached across the table to grab her mother’s hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She knew her mother didn’t think they shared any commonality with their experiences. But this was important, and she wouldn’t rest until she could make things right.

“History is one thing, but the issues surrounding James are real. His existence is at stake, along with his heritage. I’ve witnessed Catherine Samuel’s grief and her trials are just as real to me now. Somehow I was meant to come to their aid. My whole life I’ve dreamed of nothing but helping solve the mysteries of the past. It’s no less important to me now, Mom. In fact I think it’s a part of who I am.”

Turning to her grandmother, and nodding at Aunt Vickie, April took a deep breath. This was her time. This was the moment she knew she was made for. “Grams, Aunt Vickie, I’m ready to be taught everything I need to know to help my ghosts.”

James’s smile couldn’t be blown off by cannon fire. He was in his glory. The only thing that could have made him happier was to have Daniel back, running his mill while he cavorted around town greeting the tourists. His walking tours were well attended. The local proprietors greeted him as if he were a member of the ton, talking about the day’s economic turns.

And his time with April was most appreciated. A man without his needs fulfilled for two centuries had a lot of catching up to do. She was a wealth of relief and great pleasure, always keeping his interest at peak, finding new and talented ways to charm him and make him delight in being alive—and nearly late for his first tour group of the day.

April had taken her time, attending to his cleanliness in such a thorough manner this morning, he’d felt the need to reciprocate. A ten minute shower had turned into a steamy, thirty-five minute sauna. They ended up washing, rinsing, and repeating many times over.

A group of thirty visitors were waiting patiently for him as he strolled up the sidewalk in front of the old historical site only a minute late. Most of them were elderly, on their way from traveling the New England states for the fall colors and making their way back to their homes in the southern colonies.

He hoped he could make the tour informative and educational, taking them a bit into his real life. Remembering young Tony from the ghost tours, he hoped he wouldn’t become bored with a scripted routine. He wanted to interact and still maintain his true identity. James Addison was who they expected him to be…well, they would get the man, in the flesh.

He eagerly awaited the last few stragglers to catch up from taking photos of the home of Peter Hyman, the area’s first attorney at law, and a prominent citizen who it turned out was a highly respected colonial patriot…the traitorous bastard! But James didn’t care. He was James Addison, the legend, the man of the hour and the folks had eagerly questioned him about his loyalties and Kings Mill site in general. All questions he could answer without any problem.

“Are you aware of your impending doom this coming week?” a gentleman asked. He wasn’t being rude. James knew the man figured he was only playing the part and had to know of the upcoming conclusion to Kings Mill’s festive season.

“Harold!” His wife smacked him lightly on the arm. “Of course he doesn’t know he’s to be executed for treason! Don’t spoil the timeline.”

Without missing a beat, James stayed in character. “I’m to be executed? By whose rights? And treason?” James looked aghast. “That is unheard of! Unfathomable, my dear lady!” He stopped. Addressing her personally, but speaking also to the other guests, who’d been shocked at the man’s audacity to ask such a question, he said, “I’ve been loyal to King and Country throughout the skirmishes those damnable Sons of Liberty have orchestrated. I would never stoop so low as to discredit my family’s good name.”

Another man spoke up. “I think James Addison was sentenced for his affair with the land commissioner’s wife. Treason was just a convenient ruse.”

“I can honestly say I have never touched Catherine Samuel. She’s much too sweet. She reminds me of my dear sister, Elsbeth, back in Sunderbury. But she does bake some delicious scones. If you are ever invited to the Samuels for tea, make sure you try them. They are the best in the land.” He turned his attention back to the other woman, taking her hand in his and placing a delicate buss of his lips across her gloved fingers. “Besides, I prefer my women to be a bit more mature, more experienced in the fine art of holding a man’s interest.”

A rumble of shocked laughter echoed around him. He turned to the woman’s husband. “And sir, how long have you been wed to this delightful lady?”

“We recently celebrated forty years together,” he stated rather proudly, taking the woman’s hand James had just saluted with a brief, feigned kiss and giving him a curious stare.

James nodded, addressing the rest of the guests. “Forty years! Good Sir, I dare say your missus has
held your interest
with great care. I rest my case.” He winked at the woman. “Well done, my lady! Well done.”

The woman blushed, gushing and flirting casually with him the remainder of the tour. But he made a point to address each woman in the same fashion, never going too overboard with their husbands in attendance. He wanted to make sure the women experienced a part of the atmosphere of being courted by a gentleman of his time and standing. He’d noticed from observing life around him through the years, the art of being a true gentleman had died, along with most social graces. Perhaps their husbands could learn a bit along the way.

***

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that I’m going to jump your bones, James Addison.”

Sitting in the diner, just the two of them, April was about to have him for dessert. The looks James was sending her across the table when he thought she wasn’t looking made her flush with desire.

“Jump my bones?”

“One in particular…”

“Well, I know there is no such ‘bone’ in there, but when I’m around you I definitely think otherwise.”

He finished off his slice of pumpkin pie with provocative plays of his tongue, making damp heat collect deep inside of her. The cad! Wanting to pay for their meal and get him home before she actually pushed the dishes off the table and took him right there, she fished out her wallet. Why him? Why now? After two years her sex life with Jason had been timid at best. It had taken James Addison less than two weeks to turn her into a sex fiend.

James was inventive. This morning’s game of ‘good clean fun’ proved just how inventive he could be. Never had a removable, massaging shower head been so stimulating. But it wasn’t all about her pleasure. April found her ability to explore her gift of touch went far beyond psychometry.

But then, she had learned the delicate technique of cleaning antiquities. She made sure every trace of dirt had been removed. This morning she’d used her knowledge on her very own two hundred seventy year old artifact. Between the two of them, James was nearly late for his first tour of the day. And she would have to leave Aunt Vickie a little extra money for the water bill.

“Put your money away. I want to pay for dinner tonight.” He fished out a brand new twenty dollar bill from his leather wallet. “I’ve been receiving a good sum of tips from my tours. I never knew being me could be so lucrative.”

April let him. The glow in his eyes at being able to pay for something as simple as dinner gave him confidence in being part of the human race again.

He held the door open for her and took her by the arm, escorting her down the street.

April laughed at the giddiness she noticed in James. He was alive in so many ways, not just physically. “You really are enjoying yourself.”

“Of course. It gives me a chance to be me and still have time with the woman I’ve grown to love…plus a couple of coins to rub together in my pockets.” He looked down at her and smiled. “What more could a man want?”

April had signed up for his last tour of the day, just to see him in action. There had only been a few random stragglers in the afternoon. Still, he’d given an Academy Award winning performance, although she knew he wouldn’t qualify since he wasn’t acting. She had been delighted when a man had commented on his authenticity and found him entertaining as well as informative. Seeing James’s face light up from the enthusiasm warmed April’s heart.

“So Grams and Mom went out to see a movie tonight and your Aunt has her book club?” James asked as they walked back to the house.

“Yep, we have the house to ourselves.” April turned to him with a saucy smile. “Whatever shall we do with all the time?”

“I saw a book in the parlor library I wanted to read,
Of Mice and Men
. I think I’ll have a glass of port and read while you stitch a sampler.”

“Like bloody hell you will.” April tried for an English accent but judging by his laughter failed miserably. “Number one, I don’t sew. Number two, I refuse to change who I am for anyone. And three, I bought these and intend to use them tonight.” She handed him the shiny bag.

He peeked in and removed one box. “Ribbed for her pleasure?” He looked at the other. “Warming gel?” He turned the last box over and read the inscription. “What are they for?”

“I could tell you but I prefer to show you what they are for.” She took his hand and removed the box, slipping into his arms as she laid a deep, wet kiss on him. His arms automatically came up around her, returning the ferocity of her kiss with his own.

“Are they animal skins used in preventing child birth?” His voice was a husky breath against her neck as he nuzzled her throat. “If they are…you can keep them, I would much prefer you rounded with my child. I’ve always been very careful but you’re the first woman I’ve wanted to have a babe with.”

April pulled away. Her womb quivered at the thought of carrying his baby. As sexy and wonderful as it sounded coming from him, she couldn’t let it sway her. Too many uncertainties. For him to offer such hope in the midst of their crazy association, seemed like a far-fetched dream.

Was he even biologically able to be a father? Up until a few days ago, he was an energy mass. With no physical or medical history since then, she didn’t know what he was. He had a heartbeat and blood, but they hadn’t considered analyzing his chemical or biological make up.

Every day she feared waking up to find him gone and sending him to work only amplified her fears because he wasn’t near her. Seeing him alive each night settled her nerves a bit. She’d wondered if he needed to remain near her 24/7 since she was the one who brought him to life, but he was still here.

“James, we can’t make promises. We don’t know anything for certain. As much as I wish we could be together for the rest of our lives, have children, wake up to each other every morning, I’m afraid I don’t know how long we have.”

“No one knows how long they have, April. All I know is you are the reason behind everything in my life. I never believed in fate or knew of God and the afterlife, but I know now we were meant to be together. Is there any other explanation of why I was kept trapped in time for so long, to arrive in this era and have you to come along to ‘see’ me when no one else could? Is it any wonder you have the gift to bring me to life?”

“You’ve been talking with Aunt Vickie,” she scolded playfully, but sobered once she noticed the hurt look on James’s face. “I don’t know. All I know is I want to take what we have, one day at a time and just enjoy each other. I want to make love to you and soak everything I feel with you into me and keep it for as long as I can. I don’t want to think about tomorrow.” April took hold of his hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, trying to lighten the mood.

James grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him. His eyes filled with promise. “I swear to you, my sweet lass—I will move Heaven and Hell to make you mine. If there is a merciful God, then we will be together, no matter what obstacles are placed in our way.”

His lips nuzzled against the soft underside of her ear. All the moisture left her mouth and pooled deliciously into her nether regions. The intensity in his eyes showed her just how serious his claim on her was. Despite everything against them, James claiming her as his, only made her want him more.

They ran the rest of the way to the house, stopping long enough to catch quick kisses and love bites against a tree or a wall or anything solid to keep them upright. Prolonging the agony of their quiet night together had its advantages. This was foreplay at its finest.

When they reached their destination, breathless with laughter and physical exertion they were caught off guard by Dr. Beth Freelane standing on the sidewalk leading up to the house.

“Dr. Freelane? Can I help you?” April asked the woman carrying a box with another crate beside her.

“Oh, Dr. Branford, I’m glad you’re here,” Beth said, placing the box down beside the crate and slowly walking away from the house, watching it as if it were alive and going to jump out at her. “I was hoping I might catch you home.”

“What can I do for you?” April noticed Beth looking sheepishly toward James. He gave a little wave of his hand.

“Jim, I’m sorry—I almost didn’t recognize you without your costume.”