The Stars that Fell

by M. L. Bullock

  “I’m here, Christine.” Then, TD wasn’t TD anymore. He was taller, thinner with darker hair, and he wore a tailored brown suit. “I failed you before, but I will not fail you now, my love. Come to me. Let her go, Cottonwood. You have no claim on her.”

  She wrangled free from Jeremiah but only for a second. Grinning, Cottonwood slid his arm around her neck again and said savagely, “She’s mine, Page. She always will be mine. You may have her heart, but I have a covenant that cannot be broken, the covenant of marriage. I am on the side of right.”

  Hoyt stormed toward Jeremiah, determined to rescue Christine, but he ran into the invisible force that Isla seemed to manipulate so easily with just her hands.

  “Isla! Stop this! How can you let him use you like this?” I pleaded with her. I was desperate.

  She giggled and pressed her hands together, a move that forced me almost flat to the hardwood floor.

  “How can you set her free, Page? See, she is mine still.”

  “You are a murderer! You murdered Christine. You are an unjust man, and you have no right to keep her here! You would have killed our daughter too, if I had allowed it. I saved her, Christine. I saved Delilah!”

  “Let me go, Jeremiah. Please I beg you.” Christine struggled less now, and I could see that she was giving up. “Don’t keep me here anymore. I can’t bear it. I want to be with Hoyt and my children.”

  “Did you think that I didn’t know about you and Hoyt, about your bastard children—the ones you tried to pass off as mine? What a fine game player you were, dear! Granted it took me years to discover that Calpurnia was his ill-begotten stock, but once I knew, everything changed. You stole that from me! I will never let you leave, not now—not ever!”

  “Christine! Christine! Come to me now! Please! Before it’s too late!” Hoyt cried out from his knees. Isla whirled around us, and this time she sailed by so close that I could smell honeysuckle and something else…death. I could feel her excitement as she waited to kill me.

  “I can’t, he won’t let me go! It’s no use, Hoyt,” Christine cried pitifully. For a second, her face faded—I could plainly see Detra Ann! Jeremiah was holding Detra Ann!

  “Fight, Detra Ann! Fight!” My friend struggled with renewed vigor, but it lasted only a few seconds.

  Isla growled, but I continued to shout, “Fight! You are not Christine, you are Detra Ann Dowd. You are my friend, and I care about you! Now fight, damn it!”

  Jeremiah seemed confused, but then Detra Ann’s face disappeared and it was just Christine again, crying hopelessly.

  “Let her go, Jeremiah! She’s not Christine!” Finally, I could stand. I reached for Hoyt and helped him up too. A swell of terrible music rose in the ballroom, and the once-frozen dancers began to dance around us. The stale air moved like a brewing storm.

  “You are a guest in my house now, my dear. Please join the dance,” Jeremiah said, squeezing Detra Ann’s neck, choking the life from her.

  “NO! Detra Ann! TD, do something!” I screamed as a faceless man in a black suit whipped his arm around my waist and spun me about, lifting me a few feet from the ground. We danced in a circle, his invisible hand on my waist, pulling me tighter and tighter.

  “Calpurnia, my darling,” he whispered. I recognized that voice! David Garrett! He was here too, trapped with everyone else! It took everything I had not to scream my head off as I struggled between my fear of falling to the ground and my terror at being held by this faceless ghoul.

  The doors opened again, and the dancers froze to see who else had arrived. It was Bette!

  I gasped and then screamed at the top of my lungs, “Bette! Run! Leave before it’s too late!” But she didn’t appear to hear me. The ghost that held me swirled us back to the ground, and I violently pushed away from him. I made my way through the dancers—I had to get to Bette!

  “Let her go!” she commanded Jeremiah. “Now!” Bette stepped toward Christine as he visibly released his hold on her. Then the oddest thing happened—Bette transformed before my very eyes. Her perfect puffs of white curls grew, and her hair darkened to a lustrous dark brown. She appeared tall and thin, like Hoyt. In a flash, her blue capris with the yellow daisies all over were replaced with a flowing pink and white gown and a lovely white hat with a soft ivory-colored feather. She walked toward the center of the room and stood between Hoyt and Jeremiah. The bees went silent, and I noticed that even Isla slid as far away from Bette as she could. Fear, which had been tangible and sovereign just moments ago, fled into the shadows like a wild animal along with Isla and her cohorts. Peace filled the room. I alone stood out from the darkness. Hoyt (or TD, I wasn’t sure which) was only a few feet away from me. He watched with a rapt expression of pure love.

  Bette wasn’t Bette. She was young and beautiful—she was Delilah Iverson.

  “Can it be?” Christine’s hand flew to her chest, and she took a step away from Jeremiah. He did not reach for her again. I noticed that he too had retreated a little.

  “Yes, Mother. I am Delilah, your daughter. I am here to take you home.”

  In one bold move, Christine covered the distance between them and embraced her tightly. After a moment, Delilah stepped away, touching her arm as she walked toward Jeremiah. His typical haughty expression had vanished, replaced with a look of abject despair and anger.

  “My mother doesn’t belong to you anymore. You were wrong—she is loved. I love her, just as my sister loves her. We are leaving here now, Jeremiah Cottonwood, and don’t think to stop us.”

  He backed away as a light surrounded her. I couldn’t explain it, but love shone through her like a big bright candle. No. Like a star.

  Arm in arm, they walked toward the outside door. Another light, brighter and bigger than even Delilah, shone brilliantly. As the door swung open, that light filled the ballroom in a flash.

  Hoyt stumbled after them, pleading, “You can’t leave me again, Christine. I love you and always will. Don’t leave me now.”

  Christine paused on the garden path and gave him a beautiful smile. She reached out her hand, and he ran to her.

  “Wait! TD! You can’t go!” I cried out, unsure what to think about what was happening. I watched their glowing figures walk through the Moonlight Garden, Delilah on the right, Hoyt on the left and Christine in the middle. I didn’t dare take my eyes off of them, but I could “feel” the others around me disappearing into nothingness.

  Instead of giggling, I heard Isla crying. Crying that her life and afterlife were now completely over. She would go down into the grave and be gone forever.

  Worm food now, I suppose…

  Jeremiah didn’t whimper or wail, but simply slid into a small black hole that appeared in the floor. He didn’t even make a sound as he slipped away down into the abyss. The hole closed, leaving only a small scorch mark on the floor.

  I looked back up and saw the three lights, Delilah, Christine and Hoyt, fading away into the dark night. They were together at last. I wondered if they would simply go to sleep or if they would have time, their time—the time that was stolen from them. I didn’t know. I hoped they found Calpurnia waiting wherever they were going.

  I sat on the hardwood floor and cried my eyes out.

  Epilogue

  Ashland and Carrie Jo stepped out onto the dais and faced the excited crowd. It was springtime in Mobile, bright and cool—the perfect day for unveiling the new Bette Marshall Museum and the Terrence Dale House. The new museum housed the extension of the Seven Sisters art collection, while the Dale House was the rebuilt slave quarters, reconstructed according to TD’s plans. It had been next on his list after restoring the Moonlight Garden. Ashland and TD had wanted to restore the plantation to be as historically accurate as they could make it, and this addition would do just that. Carrie Jo had commissioned a painting of Muncie that now hung in the foyer of the Marshall Museum. It was one of my favorite places to visit.

  I wondered what our missing friends would think about the honors we bestowed upon t
hem today. I wondered if TD remembered me—I liked to imagine that he did. I thought about him every day. At first, he was all I could think about. How could he have simply walked out of the hospital and disappeared? But slowly, the space between the crashing waves of grief grew, and eventually I found the strength to continue. But my future was forever changed by his absence.

  Ashland made his speech, and the crowd applauded. I watched Carrie Jo as she stood smiling by his side. Funny how close we were now. She was like the sister I never had. I couldn’t imagine life without her, and I would forever be in her debt for what she did.

  “But none of this would be possible without the help of Detra Ann Dowd, the director of the Seven Sisters Living Museum. Please make her welcome.” The crowd again applauded, and I solemnly took the podium. I closed my eyes for a second and let the sunlight beam down on me. We’d worked like dogs to make this happen in such a short time, but at least it was done. These weren’t just important landmarks and museums. They were memorials to our friends.

  It was the least we could do.

  According to the papers, Bette Marshall had died of a sudden heart attack in her home. TD had simply disappeared. For a while, rumors circulated that he’d fallen off the wagon again, but when he didn’t reappear, everyone changed their mind. I knew the truth. So did Ashland, Henri and Carrie Jo. That was all that mattered.

  “Thank you, everyone, for your support throughout this process. Special thanks to the Historical Society for your tireless commitment to Seven Sisters….” I read my notes and tried to keep a smile in my voice. I thought I did okay. When my speech was finished, I took a seat on the dais. Carrie Jo reached for my hand and squeezed it. Suddenly, I missed TD so badly that I almost cried. I squeezed her hand back, and she didn’t let go. I was glad for that.

  When the ceremony ended, we stepped off the dais and I fell into Henri’s big arms. He’d become a dear friend to me these past six months. I was glad that he had decided to move back to Mobile. Within a month, he’d purchased the Cotton City Antique Store, and I’d spent a bit of time there helping him set up his displays. It was peaceful work, and he seemed to value my opinion. Despite what some of the wagging tongues might think, we weren’t romantically involved. But I cared deeply for him.

  We spent the next thirty minutes greeting visitors and answering questions. When it was over, I gave a sigh of relief. I was leaving Seven Sisters at the end of the month. My assistant, Rachel Kowalski, was taking over the directorship. I knew I was leaving the house in good hands. Of that, I had no worries. I’d given enough to the house. We all had.

  It was time to leave the past behind…time to say goodbye to Seven Sisters. I took a walk through the Moonlight Garden. I touched the flowers and breathed in the scent of magnolias and roses. I picked a few petals off the ground and walked to the Atlas fountain.

  “Goodbye, TD.” I tossed the petals into the water and watched them spin wildly and then slowly sink to the bottom.

  I turned my face to the sun once more and felt peace wash over me. I couldn’t say for sure, but in that moment I believed he heard me.

  For the last time, I walked out of the maze and back to the house. Henri, Ashland and Carrie Jo waited for me. We walked through the house and closed the door behind us.

  We didn’t look back.

  Read more from M.L. Bullock

  The Seven Sisters Series

  Seven Sisters

  Moonlight Falls on Seven Sisters

  Shadows Stir at Seven Sisters

  The Stars that Fell

  The Stars We Walked Upon (forthcoming)

  The Desert Queen Series

  The Tale of Nefret

  The Falcon Rises (forthcoming)

  The Kingdom of Nefret (forthcoming)

  The Southern Gothic Series

  Being with Beau

  Connect with M.L Bullock on Facebook. To receive updates on her latest releases, visit her website at M.L. Bullock and subscribe to her mailing list.