Behind the Mask

by Linda Winstead Jones

  He suspected those were not her reasons for wanting him to stay in this room. She spoke too fast and didn’t look directly at him. Was she afraid if he stood she would be forced to see him naked? Heaven forbid. “The truth, Tessa,” he insisted.

  She went a little pale, and then, unexpectedly, she scooted closer to him. All buttoned up in that prim nightgown, she placed her body close to his. “I don’t want to be alone at night,” she whispered. “Not in a haunted house. I will feel safer if you stay.”

  Safer? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

  As Tessa laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, the window that had closed itself twice slowly and almost silently opened. The fire dimmed to a reasonable level. All was quiet, but sleep would not come for John. He was so wound up he was about to explode. And all because of a ghost. A ghost!

  Tessa had been right when she had come to him bearing water earlier that day. This was not exactly what he had bargained for, and they could still have the marriage annulled, if they so desired. If he had a lick of sense, he would take her up on that offer, first thing tomorrow morning.

  But he didn’t have a lick of sense, apparently. There was something special here, something just out of reach. He saw unexpected promise in this old house, in the fields surrounding it... and in his wife.

  Tessa slept soundly beside him, her breathing even and deep. By the light of the fire she was so incredibly beautiful. She would make a good wife, of that he had no doubt. Beauty didn’t make a good wife; his sister-in-law, Doreen, proved that too well. But Tessa was much more than beautiful. She was good-natured, not afraid of hard work, and she had charmed everyone at the wedding. She could cook, and he had no doubt but that she would be a caring, loving mother to his children.

  If they ever got the chance to make a baby.

  Right now he didn’t care that Tessa was socially acceptable, sweet, and would make a great mother. He wanted her. He wanted her so much he could taste her. The scent of her teased and tantalized him. Somehow she had crawled beneath his skin, and even though they weren’t touching at the moment, he felt her.

  Minutes ticked past slowly; the night was quiet but for the crackle of the fire. Sleep was impossible. The fire flickered as a cool breeze came through the open window, fluttering the curtains there. Maybe, just maybe, Aunt Nell was gone for the evening.

  John reached out and laid his hand on Tessa’s waist. He scooted closer to his sleeping wife, aligned his body to hers, and moved his mouth toward hers. He would wake her with a soft kiss.

  The fire blazed high. The window slammed shut.

  Tessa just sighed and wriggled into the mattress as John rolled onto his back.

  Nell, again. “Bitch,” he muttered as the fire died down once again.

  As he fell asleep, the window slowly opened.

  5

  Tessa hummed to herself as she cleaned the bedroom directly across the hall from the one she shared with John. She had awakened that morning oddly rejuvenated, in spite of last night’s ghostly interference.

  She was still a little bit worried about what was yet to come, but she had to admit the kissing had been very nice, nicer than she had expected. It had made her knees weak and her toes curl. And when John touched her just so, she could close her eyes and just feel... no worries, no fear, just a gentle warmth that burned deep inside.

  Apparently, John had not slept well at all. He had gotten up several hours after her and had been in a foul mood as he’d headed for the barn.

  She swept almost absently, moving the dust and dirt across the floor. The entire house needed to be completely refurnished, and this room was no exception. Still, it had once been lovely, she imagined, and it would be lovely again. Perhaps she would turn this room into a nursery. The very idea made her smile. She did love children, and babies in particular. Of course, for that to happen, Aunt Nell was going to have to cease her meddling.

  “What do you have against John?” Tessa asked softly as she continued to sweep. “He really is a good man. There’s no reason for you to make him suffer this way. Mother told me that sometimes men just need... certain things. They can’t control their baser instincts.” She nodded once. Baser instincts, when her mother had originally used the term, sounded rather vile. But maybe those instincts were not so vile. She liked the way John looked at her when he lay beside her. She liked the way his hands felt on her. And then, of course, there was the kissing... “Your interference really is quite rude.”

  Tessa turned around and came face-to-face with the ghostly image of Aunt Nell. She jumped back, clutching her broom.

  “For goodness sakes!” Tessa said when she had recovered. “You probably scared ten years off my life. Can’t you at least warn me when you enter the room?”

  Nell cocked her head to one side.

  “Make a sound, or come toward me where I can see you from a distance, instead of just popping up in my face.”

  Nell nodded, as if in agreement

  “Thank you,” Tessa said politely.

  She had a sinking feeling Aunt Nell was not going away. And after all, Nell had been here much longer than the new residents. She had died before Tessa had been born, more than twenty-one years ago, so maybe it wasn’t right to ask Nell to out and out leave. Somehow, the three of them would have to learn to live together.

  Aunt Nell, her form ghostly but still quite distinct, sat on the side of the bed and surveyed the room with wide, sad eyes.

  “Was this your bedroom?”

  The ghost nodded. That meant Nell had died in this bed, Tessa realized with a shiver. That the poor, heartbroken woman had spent most of her lonely hours in this very room.

  Tessa was determined that somehow she and John would have a normal marriage. That meant if Nell refused to leave the house, she was going to have to agree to stay elsewhere in the evening. Tessa leaned her broom in the corner, fetched a ladder-back chair from another corner, and sat down facing the specter that was perched on the edge of the bed, her wedding dress tattered even in this ghostly state, her wavy red hair unruly.

  “Now,” Tessa said pragmatically, “we’re going to have to do something about this situation. It’s getting out of hand. You know very well that John and I are married, and there’s no reason...”

  Already Nell was shaking her head.

  “But...”

  Nell kept shaking her head. Red curls danced.

  Exasperated, Tessa threw up her hands. “We both want to stay here. Dilapidated and dismal as it is, this house is ours now. I want John to be happy here. I want babies. I want to make this house a home, and I can’t do any of that while you continue to interfere. What on earth do you want?”

  Nell placed a hand on her chest and patted it there twice.

  Tessa immediately thought of the way John had touched her, kissing her breasts, touching them. Though Tessa said nothing, Nell shook her head vigorously and again patted her hand against her chest.

  “I don’t understand,” Tessa whispered.

  Aunt Nell lifted both hands and very slowly formed the shape of a heart in the shimmering air that surrounded her.

  “Heart,” Tessa whispered.

  Aunt Nell smiled and nodded.

  “Oh, you’re afraid that I don’t love John, is that it?” Love. Pitter-patter. “I think maybe I do,” she confessed in a soft voice. “More every day. He’s very...” She smiled softly as she considered her husband. “Handsome and strong and considerate, and he looks very manly with or without a shirt.”

  Nell not only stopped smiling, she pursed her lips in ghostly disapproval.

  “I know,” Tessa said with a wave of her hand. “That’s not love, but it’s a start. Isn’t that enough?”

  Nell shook her head.

  So, she was to love John before she gave herself to him That pitter-patter she felt when she looked at him, maybe that was love, after all. She wished she could be sure. She liked John, very much, but love... Love was for poets and playwrights, not ordinary women.

&n
bsp; Especially not ordinary women whose husbands didn’t love them back. Tessa was certain she could handle a business arrangement of a marriage, but if she fell in love with John and he didn’t return her feelings it would break her heart.

  “We have to learn to be man and wife first,” she said pragmatically, “and then...”

  Aunt Nell shook her head furiously. She laid her hand over her heart again and then lifted one finger. Love first.

  “Surely you don’t plan to show up every night for the rest of our lives to... to...”

  Tessa didn’t need to finish. Nell nodded slowly and surely. Yes.

  John lifted his head from his chore to watch his wife walk purposely toward him, a determined sway in her step making her dark green skirt swish this way and that. Leaves, red and yellow and orange, fell in her wake, as if she stirred up a silent, mighty wind with those earnest strides.

  She didn’t even look at the stall door he was repairing, but met his gaze with one of her own. “I think we should walk to town.”

  “Ready to give up so soon?” he asked, his heart sinking a little. An annulment, a hint of scandal... They would both survive.

  She looked properly shocked. “Oh, not on the marriage, that’s not what I meant.”

  John breathed a sigh of relief, then tried very hard not to let that relief show. “Then, what did you mean?”

  She no longer looked so determined. Instead she seemed to be entirely disheartened. “This house is hopeless. It’s falling down, and it’s haunted.” Her lip trembled. “Haunted, John! I don’t think Aunt Nell’s going away just because we’ve moved in. Can’t we live somewhere else?”

  He considered the proposition for a moment. “No.”

  His response took her by surprise. She drew back a bit and blinked. “No?”

  “I like it here,” he said, giving in to a real half smile. These were the thoughts that had been teasing him all morning. Strong, unexpected thoughts that had surprised him and then settled in his gut. “You’re right, the place is falling apart, and we have your Aunt Nell to deal with, but...” He held his hands out, palm up, for her inspection. “See that?”

  Without thinking, she took his wrists in her small hands and drew them toward her. “Blisters! Oh, Johnny, you’ve been working too hard.” Her eyes snapped up, but she didn’t release his wrists. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know where that came from. I remember your brothers called you Johnny when you stayed with us that summer, but I’m sure you prefer John since everyone calls you John, now, and won’t—”

  “Tessa,” he interrupted. “You’re rambling.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Besides, I like it when you call me Johnny,” he said. “In fact, you can call me anything you’d like. John. Johnny. My dear husband. Ralph. Homer.”

  Tessa smiled so wide it touched his heart.

  “Jim. Arthur. Cletis.”

  She laughed, true and clear and unfettered. “Now you’re being silly.”

  “I’ll be silly some more if it will make you laugh.”

  She ignored him and returned her attention to his hands. “If you really don’t mind, I do like the name Johnny. It’s less intimidating than John.”

  He did not want her to be intimidated.

  “It reminds me of that summer you and your family stayed with us,” she continued, still studying his blisters. “I was horribly sweet on you that summer, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t have any idea.”

  She preferred to stare at his hands rather than to look him in the eye. “Horribly sweet. I used to watch you, when you thought I wasn’t looking, and make desperate plans to be wherever you were going to be, though, of course, it had to look like an accidental meeting.” She smiled. “I even confessed to my sister that I would die happy if you would only kiss me, just once.” She cocked her head to one side as she brushed her thumbs over his palms. “Cecily was twelve at the time, and to her the very idea of kissing a boy was quite dreadful.”

  “But not to you,” he said softly.

  “I was fifteen, and just beginning to realize that perhaps kissing would be pleasant.”

  He drew her a little closer, so her body almost touched his. “I wish I had kissed you then.”

  “The time wasn’t right.”

  “And what about now?”

  Tessa lifted her head as he dipped his down, and their mouths met. Lips parted, hearts pounded. It was the kind of kiss that might turn a man inside out. Of course, after two frustrating nights, it didn’t take much to turn him inside out. A breeze whipped up and swirled around them, as he lost himself in the feel of her, in the softness and the passion.

  He was the one to draw away, aware of his ever declining limits where his wife was concerned. If things were different, he would pull Tessa into the barn and make love to her there, fast and hard, on the ground or against a rickety wall. But not now, not for their first time. Later, though, he decided with a smile. Another day, not so far in the future.

  “So,” she said breathlessly. “What were you going to say about your blisters?”

  “Come here,” he said, turning the tables on her and taking her hand in his, leading her away from the barn and to the fence that surrounded an overgrown pasture. Once there, he put his hands at her waist and lifted her high, depositing her on a sturdy section of the fence. “Look around you and tell me what you see.”

  Her eyes went directly to the house, and she sighed in despair. “Oh, it needs so much work!”

  John touched her chin and forced her gaze in another direction. “Now what do you see?”

  She was silent for a moment, and rightly so. In the distance, gentle hills that were a mixture of evergreen and gold and orange rose and fell splendidly. The sky was so bright a blue it might hurt one’s eyes if one looked too long. The wide field between the fence where Tessa sat and the hills was flat and neglected, but John saw promise there. If she saw promise, too... could he hope?

  “It’s beautiful,” Tessa whispered.

  “If you use your imagination, you can see so much out there. Horses, here in the corral. Fields green and rich.” He pointed past her, his arm resting lightly on her thigh. “There’s land you can’t even see from here, and it’s even better than this field. The soil is just begging to be worked.”

  She looked down at him, a teasing smile on her recently-kissed lips. “I did not know you were a farmer at heart.”

  “Neither did I,” he confessed. “I’ve been trained all my life to work with my father in steel and finance. I was good at it, I am good at it, but...”

  “But what?”

  John stared at the hills. “I never loved it. I never stared at a steel mill or a bank and got a lump in my throat. I could love this. I could love getting blisters, and building something with my hands, and making this place into something really special again.” He tilted his head back to look up at his wife. “My father expects that I will continue to work with him, traveling frequently, hiring men to see to every aspect of working this land. If I don’t, he might not be pleased. It might mean being cut off from the family financially.” His father would do that to get his way. He would use money to manipulate his son, if he could. He had done it before.

  John waited for Tessa to tell him that she didn’t intend to struggle, that she didn’t want him without the Travis money that was supposed to come with the marriage.

  But instead of suggesting that he obey his father as a good son should, Tessa smiled and reached out to touch his face. “I can see it so well,” she said. “It’s rather exciting, to take something neglected and bring it to life. To find beauty and honor and a lifetime of purpose in something you build with your own hands.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  She pursed her lips. “Not nearly as much as I mind the idea that you might travel frequently. What am I supposed to do while you travel? Go home to Mother? Or stay here with the ghost of Aunt Nell? No. I’d rather have you here. Always.”

  Maybe she didn�
�t understand. “It would mean putting off remodeling the house until we’re making money on our own. And we won’t be able to hire a full staff.”

  She shrugged. “The house is looking better every day. We can remodel one room at a time, as we can afford it. As for the staff”—she cocked her head to one side—“I can cook and clean for two, and I really wouldn’t mind terribly if we had the house all to ourselves for a while longer. Would you?”

  Did she even have to ask? “Not at all.”

  He had always seen Tessa’s beauty, and he knew without a doubt that when they finally got the chance to consummate their marriage, it would be spectacular. But at this moment he saw more in her. This was a woman he could truly share his life with.

  “This is working out to be a more than suitable arrangement, Tessa. We’ll make good partners.”

  She smiled down at him. “We can do it, Johnny. Together we can face my ghostly aunt and your father and anything or anyone else that comes along.”

  Now he knew that his wife was not only beautiful and passionate, she was a woman with vision, a woman who did not turn away from a challenge.

  He looked again to the colorful hills in the distance. “There are so many possibilities here,” he said softly. “So much promise for the future. No ghost is going to make us run away.”

  6

  John had instructed her to wait downstairs until he summoned her. Tessa paced in the small parlor, wondering what on earth he was doing up there. Every now and then she heard something above her head, as if he’d dropped something heavy on the floor. A scrape, a moment of silence, and then footsteps. There were lots of footsteps.

  She’d found lamps and oil in the pantry, and one burned brightly, illuminating the parlor. This would be a perfect family parlor, she had decided, just right for cozy evenings at home with her husband and—if miracles did, indeed, happen—their children.