Whispers from the Past (7 page)

As always, her kisses ended too soon, but she was getting there. And she’d initiated this one. Definitely progress.

She laid her head on my shoulder. “I miss being alone with you.”

“Me, too.” That was one of the reasons I hadn’t wanted her to move in with Marissa, but if I reminded her right now, it would be a major mood spoiler. Time to think of a topic unlikely to end in a fight. “So tell me about this Isaac guy.”

She snuggled closer. “He’s at the restaurant most evenings, but we have not talked often.”

She smelled good, like roses and baby powder. “What kind of job does he have?”

“He’s never mentioned where he works. I only know that he drives a van for a food shuttle, and that Lucy likes him very much.”

I would’ve guessed he was college age. But if he could afford a Mercedes SUV, he had a seriously nice job. Or maybe seriously nice parents. “Has he hit on you?”

She cocked her head in confusion. “He has not hit me. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“No, babe. Hit
on
you.” I smiled. “Has he given you any indication that he might ask you out on a date or be interested in you?”

“He would be deeply lacking in perception if he could not tell that I am taken.” She brushed her fingertips over my lips. “You did not need to clarify our relationship. I have eyes only for you. It isn’t possible for me to love another.”

“That’s what I thought.” I kissed her fingers. “But it’s good to hear anyway.”

We grew quiet, huddled on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, not saying anything. It was perfect.

Eventually, though, I had to break the spell. It was nearly ten and I had homework to finish. I stood, still holding onto Susanna.

She gave a surprised laugh. “You are strong.”

I let her slide down my body until her feet touched the floor. “You are tiny.”

“I’m not that small.” She stared up at me, back to being calm. “You must go?”

“Yeah, but let me show you something first.” I pulled a pair of tickets from my pocket and held them out to her. “These are for our prom.”

Her expression went blank as she looked them over. “It will be held on April twenty-first.”

“Yeah.” Six more weeks until my senior prom. “We’re holding it at a new venue this year. It’s supposed to be really nice with a huge dance floor.”

She handed the tickets back without comment.

Not comforting. “Is there a problem?”

“Do you wish to go?”

“Absolutely.” I couldn’t wait to go. It was a chance to make up for how messed-up last year’s prom had been. It’d been bad enough for my date to humiliate me by abandoning me in the middle of the dance floor, but then she made it worse by taking the limo, too. I’d called a taxi and had it drop me off at the entrance to our neighborhood. Hadn’t wanted to risk Mom and Dad finding out until I was ready to talk about it. “Why else would I have bought a pair of tickets?”

“You must pay to attend a dance?”

“Yes.” I dropped my hands to her waist and pulled her close. “Do you understand what a prom is?”

“Perhaps not well.” She flattened her palms against my chest, yet her gaze never left my face. “What will we do?”

“Dance. Hang out with my friends.”

“Benita and Jesse?”

“Yeah. And Gabrielle.”

“Will she bring Korry?”

I shook my head. “They broke up.”

“Will she bring a different young man?”

“I don’t know.”

She moved out of my embrace. “What do we wear for such an event?”

Here was the second big reason I couldn’t wait to take her. I could just imagine walking in with her in front of my entire graduating class and leading her onto the dance floor looking gorgeous. Maybe Marissa or Gran could help her find something that would make me and Susanna both happy. “Tux for me. Formal gown for you.”

“Should the gown be long or short?”

I studied her expression. She was upset about something. Was she going to tell me, or would I have to drag it out of her? “You choose.”

“Will the other girls wear long gowns?”

“I don’t care about the other girls. I’ll only be looking at you.”

“A wise and charming answer.” She gave me the first real smile of this conversation. “Will there be much skin on display?”

“There will be serious skin on display.”

She laughed. “You will not notice this on that night.”

“No, I won’t.” I laughed too. Dipping my head, I slanted my mouth over hers for a long, sweet, good-bye kiss. When it threatened to turn into something hotter, I released her and walked to the front door.

“Mark?”

I glanced at her over my shoulder. “What?”

Her smile had faded. “You will have less fun because I’m there.”

“I would have
no
fun without you.” I didn’t want to ask the obvious question, but I had to. “Don’t you want to go?”

“Truthfully?”

I nodded.

“It wouldn’t be my preference to attend.”

That hurt to hear. I looked away, not wanting her to see how bad that made me feel. “Why?”

She crossed to me and laid her hand on my arm. “You will be the object of pity, and I shall be its cause. I do not want that for you.”

“Once the other guys catch sight of you, the only thing they’ll be feeling is envy.” My body throbbed with disappointment. Did she not realize how important this was to me? “I’m looking forward to prom. It’s one of the biggest nights of high school. I can’t wait to show you off.”

She gave me a tense smile. “I shall try to be what you want.”

I slid the front door open. “You don’t have to try. You’re already what I want.”

C
HAPTER
N
INE

A S
TERN
T
ALK

I had a day off. A day to do nothing other than what I wished.

There had been many such days before I found my job. Even after I received my birth certificate, it had taken many weeks to acquire photo identification and a Social Security card.

Those days of waiting had been anxious ones, for I wanted to work but could not. Leisure was more enjoyable when it came as a contrast to a job well done.

Today, I would read a good book. I curled up on the couch with a historical novel and slipped into a fictional world that made sense to me.

When my phone rang, it was midmorning. “Hello. This is Susanna.”

“Hi. Can you talk a moment?”

It was Mark’s mother. Her voice sounded pleased, so it couldn’t be bad news. “Yes, Sherri.”

“Can you fit two more June weddings into your schedule?”

Now I was pleased as well. “Yes, I can. How many guests?”

“Five hundred altogether. Do you want me to send the new batch over with Mark?”

“May I ride over today? Will you be there in an hour?”

“I will. See you.” The phone clicked.

When the sin of pride rose within me, I tried to tamp it down. My handwriting was in high demand. As glad as I was for the fees, I couldn’t help a thrill at knowing that I had a skill so greatly admired.

With anticipation, I took off on my bike, taking the route through Umstead Park. Yet, this time, I made a detour to the Worthville ruins. After parking my bike, I walked slowly along the foundation of the old meetinghouse. It was where the townsfolk had gathered for church, for celebrations, and for trials.

A little distance away sat a once-white picket fence guarding a jumble of tombstones. I crept closer, wondering whose names I would see.

There were many Fosters and Worths. None with dates past 1805, naturally. Four stones bore the last name Pratt. I had already found the tombstones of the babies I’d tended and their mother. I could still make out the year my mistress had died, 1797. I had moved to Mark’s century only months before.

Sadness overwhelmed me. I spun on my heel and fled.

I made my next stop at the falls, which shimmered in invitation.

For several long moments, I stood on the rock on Mark’s side of the falls and contemplated what might await me. Would there be more letters? Might I see a glimpse of Dorcas? Or her father?

That last thought gave me pause. I slipped my phone through the water, snapped several images, and then reviewed them in the safe century. There was nothing of concern in range of the camera.

I darted through the water and paused on my favorite boulder. When I could detect no distress among the creatures of the forest, I proceeded into the cave and wedged my note to Dorcas in the same high crevice where she had left her three letters. There was nothing new for me.

My legs itched to jump back, yet I hesitated. I was in the past, although I wasn’t certain which year Whisper Falls had chosen this time. I listened to the sounds. I drank in its smells. So familiar. So comforting.

No, I wouldn’t stay here a moment longer and reminisce. Each second I stayed was another second I deceived Mark and tempted discovery.

I leapt across two centuries and continued to Mark’s house. The garage was open, and Sherri’s car waited inside. I knocked at the door.

“Come in, Susanna.”

I walked in and hesitated at the entrance to the kitchen. The table was set for four. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, dear. I’m hoping you’ll join us for lunch.”

“You’re having guests?”

She smiled. “My parents.”

Even as she said the words, the door to the garage opened and in walked Mark’s grandparents.

“It is lovely to see you.” I hugged Norah and then turned to Charlie.

“Where have you been?” he said, and enfolded me in his arms. “We didn’t see you this weekend.”

“Apparently, my calendar has become quite full.”

“Let me make a few demands on you, then.”

I laughed. It was good to be with them again.

After lunch, I biked again through Umstead. As I rolled past the dirt track leading to the waterfall, I hesitated. It was foolish to think anything could have changed in the cave during the past two hours, yet I felt compelled to look. Locking my bike to a tree, I walked a few steps down the track until the waterfall came into view. A flash of white caught my eye.

Perhaps a letter? So soon?

I hurried through the waterfall and felt in the crevice of the cave. Three more letters.

Spending not a moment longer in my former world than I had to, I leapt back through the waterfall, hid the letters in my jacket, and pedaled for home.

Fortunately, I had no need to feel guilty when I reached the apartment. Marissa would not be home until later from her job writing grants at a historical preservation society. I dropped onto the couch and drew out my new letters from Dorcas.

Mr. Pratt remained as vile as ever. He was to blame for injuring Dorcas. How could he have the audacity to steal her hope as well? I could not imagine how that man lived with the depravity of his own soul.