Cory drifted over to the window and peered outside. That dreadful air conditioning was on so that all of the windows and French doors were closed. Had they been open she could have stepped outside onto the balcony and gotten a better view.
She shrugged. It wouldn't matter, she supposed. For, Corrie had probably gone off in her automobile. She sighed. If only she'd been more vigilant.
If she had known Corrie was going to leave, she could have gone with her. But she had probably been in the library practicing moving things about or been perched at the top of the stairs, waiting to see what the guests would be doing, and hadn't noticed. She hadn't realized that Corrie was planning to stay out until she hadn't come back right away.
Cory turned away from the window and hurried downstairs. As much as she hated to linger in that dreary, little office, she'd have to go to see what Vanessa knew about where Corrie had gone. Though how she was going to ask the woman, she didn't know. She'd been able to wander in and out of Corrie's thoughts at will, but so far, she'd been unable to touch Vanessa in the same way.
She would just have to wait and hope.
Cory squeezed through the small space where the office door had been left ajar and settled into Corrie's chair. Vanessa was busy at work, oblivious to her presence.
"Where has Corrie gone?" she asked the busily-working woman. But if Vanessa heard, she didn't answer.
What now? Cory got up and tried to whisper the question into Vanessa's ear, but Vanessa's only response was to swat at her ear as if being annoyed by a pesky mosquito.
Disheartened, Cory settled back into the other chair and prepared to wait.
Gracious, she missed Ham.
If she had known he would be gone so long this time, she would not have insisted that he go. And what if Corrie and Benjamin had arranged a meeting? She would have missed it. She sighed loudly then covered her mouth. Not that Vanessa would have heard her, but more than a hundred and nineteen years of habit was hard to break.
A telephone rang, rousing Cory out of her self pity. Perhaps, that was news of Corrie.
"Oh hi, J. R." Vanessa listened for a moment then frowned. "No, I'm sorry. I can't leave at my usual time. Corrie has taken the day off, and I'm on duty until she gets back."
Well, that answered one question. And it relieved Cory a little. At least, Corrine hadn't gone to meet Ben, and she hadn't missed an opportunity to see Ham. How she wished that Benjamin would bring him back home.
"Sure, come over later. I can fix us something to eat." She paused. "You'll bring pizza? Even better. See you later." Vanessa replaced the receiver on the cradle and hung up the phone.
Cory sighed, wishing it were Ben and Ham coming over to visit instead.
****
Ben had just sat down to enjoy his salad and Creole shrimp dish when he had the most powerful urge to turn around. After taking a bite of the aromatic concoction and enjoying the flavor of peppers and tomatoes, he casually glanced over his shoulder.
And almost choked on his shrimp.
At the far end of the buffet table, looking fetching in a yellow camp shirt and orange hiking shorts, stood Corrie Wallace. She was chatting amiably with the hostess as if she were an old friend. Ben swallowed his mouthful and washed it down with plenty of iced tea. Once he'd regained his composure, he looked again.
From all appearances, Corrie was alone, and it relieved Ben that she apparently didn't have a date. But what was she doing there? Shouldn't she be at home minding her own inn?
He watched as Corrie selected from the offerings on the table and turned. She scanned the dining area looking for a place to sit. Corrie apparently hadn't seen him, and there were no vacant tables, so she stood there gnawing uncertainly at her lower lip.
Ben couldn't stand to see a lady in distress, and he sure didn't want Corrie to end up sitting with anybody else — especially someone of the male variety — so he pushed himself to his feet and beckoned to her.
Corrie looked at him with the blank look of someone meeting an individual out of context and unable to quite place him. Then she smiled with recognition and headed his way. "Imagine running into you here," she murmured breathlessly as she set her plate on the table.
"Yeah, it's a small world," Ben answered wryly as he signaled for a waiter to bring some more tea. "I had no intention of coming here. I just sort of found myself here right at lunchtime."
"Oh?" Corrie asked as she settled into her chair, too far across the crisp linen tablecloth to suit Ben. "What are you doing in town? Are you finished with your book?"
Ben expelled a gusty sigh. "I wish I were. It isn't going well," he admitted grudgingly. "I thought I'd come down here for some inspiration."
Corrie poked through her salad with her fork but didn't pick anything up. "Oh. I'd have thought that Cory and Ham would make a wonderful story." She looked up from her plate and leveled her amazing green eyes on him.
Pinned as he was with her gaze, Ben had a difficult time thinking, much less talking. He swallowed. "It would if it weren't our story too," he explained huskily.
Color rose to Corrie's cheeks and she lowered her gaze to her plate, but she said nothing.
"It's just too personal for me to put it on paper for the world to read."
"I see," Corrie answered quietly as the crimson stain receded.
"So now I have to find another story. Fast."
"You can't get an extension on your deadline?" Corrie raised a forkful of lettuce to her mouth.
Ben shook his head. "No. The book is already listed in the winter catalog. The fine would be hard to pay if I didn't turn it in on time. At the least, I'd have to return the advance, or I could find myself in litigation. Either way, it would do nothing toward enhancing my credibility with that publisher or anyone else."
Corrie looked at him thoughtfully. "There isn't some way you can use your Venable House research?"
Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "There may be, but it will mean rearranging the manuscript. I'd hoped on using Ham and Cory for the big finish. Without them, it ends with a whimper. I have nothing to add but a few interesting anecdotes." Ben speared a shrimp and raised it to his mouth.
Corrie sighed, giving Ben a breathtaking view of the tops of her creamy white breasts as her chest rose and fell beneath the bright yellow blouse. "That is a problem. I wish I could help you with it."
Ben smiled. "Yeah. I wish you could too." But the only thing that would help now would be for him to be at Venable House on the third of June.
And he wasn't about to do that. If Cory and Ham still had business to finish, he wanted no part of it. They'd used him enough. The next time he made love to Corrie — if there was going to be a next time — he intended to be in charge. And Corrie had to be a knowing and willing participant.
But what if the ghosts had finally gone on?
"Say," he said as an afterthought. "Have you seen much of the ghosts since I was last there?"
Chapter Fourteen
Corrie smiled. She hadn't really thought of the ghosts since Ben had last been at the inn. "It's odd," she told him. "I haven't really had time to think about them since the inn opened." She'd spent too much of her free time thinking about Ben. And a good bit of her time that wasn't free, she reminded herself. "But, now that you bring it up, I haven't felt, sensed, or seen a thing out of the ordinary."
"None of the guests have mentioned anything?" Ben watched as Corrie finished her mouthful of crab salad.
Chuckling, Corrie put her fork down. "Come to think about it, nobody's even asked about the ghosts. And I thought that Cory and Ham would be such a tourist draw."
"So you haven't noticed any disappearing guest registers or flying water pitchers."
"No things that go bump in the night and no visions of memory lane either. You don't suppose they finally moved on?" That would certainly be a relief as far as Corrie was concerned. "Could they have finally — what's the correct way to phrase this? — crossed over?"
"It's possib
le. But I would have thought that would have happened immediately after…"
"Me too. But, neither of us has been in this situation before. You've only read reports or heard anecdotes about ghosts being released. You haven't ever been there for one, have you?" She didn't wait for him to confirm her statement. "So you have no idea how long it actually took for them to go."
Ben looked at her, the oddest expression on his face. "I hadn't thought about that. But Ham seemed to think there might be more unfinished business left for them."
Just when Corrie had begun to think that she had it all figured out, Ben had to lay that one on her. She swallowed. "What do you mean?" Gooseflesh formed on her arms in spite of the warm day. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for Ben to respond.
"It's just something that Ham said during that week when he hitched a ride home with me. He said he thought he would be gone by now too, and he wondered what else there was left to do other than…"
"Ham and Cory making love?" It was strange that Corrie could think about what had happened between Cory and Ham so objectively. The morning she'd awakened to find herself in bed with Ben, she hadn't been able to be so detached. But since everything was all right — there had been no unwanted consequences — she really didn't mind.
She'd always considered herself a practical sort of woman, certainly no romantic, but she liked the thought of being able to help two lovers who had been denied that one thing for all those years. She sighed.
"Corrie?"
She blinked and looked up. "What?" It wasn't like her to wander off on tangents like that. Maybe it was because she was falling in love.
The knowledge invaded her brain with such ferocity that Corrie gasped. She couldn't be in love; she had only known the man a few weeks.
She hardly knew him, she realized, but she felt as if she'd known him forever. In trying to stifle the involuntary response with her hand, she knocked over a glass of water.
"I can't believe I did that," she muttered as she swabbed with her napkin at the spreading pool of water on the white linen tablecloth.
Ben reached across the table and offered a napkin when hers became saturated with icy water.
"Thanks, I'm not usually so clumsy. I haven't done anything like this in public since I was in grade school." Corrie felt the heat of embarrassment on her face and closed her eyes. As if that was going to disguise it.
Warm fingers closed over hers, chilled by the icy water, and heat radiated from Ben's hand to her heart. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet deep blue eyes. "Thank you," she murmured thickly.
"Any time," he answered, his voice as husky as hers.
Corrie looked around the crowded dining room, certain that everyone had been watching, but not a head was turned in her direction. Still, she was no longer comfortable in the place. She glanced back toward Ben. "Are you finished? I think I've lost my appetite."
Ben presented her with one of his endearing, lopsided smiles and said, "Sure. I'll walk you out."
****
Though Ben had offered, Corrie had insisted on paying for her own meal. He smiled as he watched her rummage around in her crayon-green purse for change. Such an independent woman, yet so vulnerable. He wondered what guy had done such a number on her that she was wound so tight she couldn't accept even the tiniest act of kindness. Well, she had accepted an invitation to dinner and had allowed him to bring takeout food the other week. Yet….
Was she still uptight about what Cory and Ham had made them do?
Ben reached into his pocket for his wallet as Corrie finished her transaction and turned to go. "Wait up," he called after her as he took his change.
How could she just walk away? He scooped up the money, jammed it into his pocket, and hurried after her.
He caught up with her in the shady archway that led to the front of the building. "Why are you running away?" He clasped her elbow, shocked at the sizzling heat that arced into his fingers. He almost drew his hand away.
Corrie shook him off and turned to him. "I wasn't running away, but…." She shrugged. "We just ran into each other. I have another inn to check out. I didn't want you to think you were obligated to spend the rest of the day with me."
Obligated? "Why would you think I'd feel obligated? You're a very attractive woman." He raised a hand to her face, brushed a strand of carroty hair away from her cheek, and stroked her velvety soft skin.
She shrugged away and started to speak, but snapped her mouth shut. Scarlet flooded her face, and she looked away.
"Is it because of Cory and Ham?"
Green eyes darted back to look at him. "No!" she protested much too vehemently.
Ben raised his hands in mock surrender and backed off a couple of inches. "Then what's bothering you?"
Corrie lowered her gaze. "I… You… haven't…" Her voice trailed off, and she turned away.
Reaching for her shoulder, Ben whispered, "Why haven't I been around?" He drew her gently to him so that he could see her clouded, green eyes. "You don't know?" How could he explain to her his feelings about Cory and Ham? And his feelings about her and the tangle they all made.
Corrie shook him away again. "Look, Ben. You don't owe me anything. We're both adults. I can handle a one-night stand." She turned to leave.
"Well, I can't."
She stopped in the shaded walkway, but she didn't turn back to him.
"Do you think just because I stayed away from you, it was because I didn't want you?"
"You didn't want me," Corrie replied stubbornly. "It was Ham and Cory."
"Is that what you think? Do you really believe that?" His chest heaving with emotion, he watched her. "Do you want to believe it?"
Corrie turned back and stared at him, her expression a mixture of hope and disbelief. "I don't know what to believe anymore."
"Believe this, Corrie. Believe that every moment I've been away from you, I've wanted to go to you or for you to come to me. If I've stayed away it's been for good reason." He paused a moment, wondering if he should go on, then he charged ahead. "Every moment today that I sat across that starched white table from you, I've wanted to—"
"What?" Corrie interrupted, her tone challenging.
"This." Ben grabbed her and pulled her roughly to him, crushing her into an embrace. He lowered his face to hers and captured her lips.
Corrie melted into his arms with an anguished moan, but she responded to him with all the sweetness and passion he could ever have wanted.
But, just when he thought he had convinced her, won her, she broke away.
"I… can't handle this now," she murmured as she stumbled out of the shady walkway and into the sun.
Ben wanted to follow her, but watched her go. He swore to himself that this would not be the end of it.
"Listen to me, Corrie," he called after her as she rounded the corner to the street. A couple leaving the restaurant stopped and stared, but Ben didn't care that he was making a scene; he only cared that Corrie heard him. "I'll be back for you."
He shivered as the heat of passion departed him, and he felt the coolness of the deep shade. Or was the chill from something else?
One thing, he knew for sure.
He would go nowhere close to the Venable House Inn on June the third. When he did go to Corrie Wallace, he wanted to be certain that it was his Corrie he was making love to, not Ham's.
****
Corrie stared out at the gathering clouds and hugged her arms to her chest. She'd survived plenty of storms in this house and never been afraid. In fact, as a child she'd loved the sound and the fury of nature's wrath as it raged around her.
Then she'd grown up and come to understand the danger that such weather could bring. And once she'd learned, she'd never been able to enjoy a storm with the same fearless innocence that she'd had before.
"Are you sure you want me to go on home, Corrie? I can stay with you." Vanessa stood behind Corrie, holding her tote bag and purse in readiness to go.
Corrie smiled at her. "Don't be silly. It's just a storm. A tropical depression. I'll be fine. I have a generator. What else could I need?"
"Somebody to keep you company, for starters. Why didn't you take the advice you gave to your guests and evacuate like you made them?" Vanessa challenged.
"Because this is my home. Where else would I go? This house has withstood storms for a hundred and fifty years. I think it'll hold up in this one. It'll barely make it to a tropical storm before it makes landfall. And this early in the season, for that matter, there's not enough energy in the Gulf to sustain it. Once it makes landfall, it'll fall apart fast. If anything, I should be insisting that you stay here instead of returning to your dinky little apartment."
"Okay, girlfriend. You've made your point. Home is home, and that's where we all want to be when the weather outside is frightful."
Corrie made a face. "Ooh, that was bad. Can't you at least be original when you're making a point?"
Vanessa shrugged.
"Go on. Go home before it starts to rain." Corrie gestured toward the door.
"All right. You don't have to tell me twice. Besides, sometimes I think the weather guys act like Chicken Little, all the time yelling, 'The sky is falling.' One day, when it really does, nobody will believe them." She reached for the knob.
"I agree with you on that one," Corrie said as Vanessa yanked the heavy door open.
Vanessa turned. "You sure you have candles, flashlights and batteries, and a battery operated weather radio?"
Corrie laughed. "Yes, I have all those things. A cell phone too. And, girlfriend, the generator works now. Look, you'll probably be huddling in the dark in your teeny little apartment, and I'll be eating popcorn and watching videos." She shooed her with both hands. "Go."
"All right," Vanessa answered, her reluctance to leave Corrie alone obvious in her tone and the expression on her face. "You lock up tight now."
"I will," Corrie agreed as Vanessa opened the door and closed it quickly behind her.
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