Once in a Blue Moon

by Kathryn Kelly

  Annoyed with herself for thinking negative thoughts, she got up and went to look out the window. She hadn’t realized it was raining. Unlike in 1863, the rain was badly needed. Grasping the curtains, she blinked. There in the trees was a movement. She squinted in the dusk at what appeared to be a man standing there looking her way. Then, just for the blink of an eye, the lawn was filled with soldiers and horses. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, counted to three, and opened them.

  All she saw were trees. Trees… and her car sitting in the circle drive.

  She let the curtains fall.

  Maybe Matthew was right. Maybe she was insane.

  Chapter 71

  Augustus was dreaming again. About Arabella as always. But this time he dreamt she was downstairs playing the piano. Much like that first night when he’d kissed her.

  He lay very still, not wanting the dream to end.

  It was so very real.

  Even as he felt himself coming out of the haze of sleep, the music continued. What was this? He didn’t recognize the music though. Instead of the happy music she always played, this was sad, soulful music. Music that spoke to the heartache he felt with her absence.

  Unable to sleep now, he tugged on his clothes, slipped into his shoes, and went downstairs.

  Arabella sat at the piano. She was wearing the same dark green dress she’d been wearing the day she disappeared.

  He was dreaming then. He leaned against the doorjamb and watched her. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, and her fingers moving along the keyboard putting all the heartbreak he felt into the song. It was as though she were channeling his emotions into the music.

  He barely blinked. He was afraid if he looked away, his waking dream would disappear.

  Chapter 72

  Arabella sat at the piano playing Moonlight Serenade. The sadness of the music matched the raindrops splashing against the window. Then moved into the strains of Sinatra’s All Alone. She only played the sad songs when no one else was listening. Jerry had gone to visit his wife, reluctantly leaving her there alone. She’d assured him that she welcomed the time alone. Closing her eyes, she allowed the waves of grief and sadness to spill from her fingertips.

  Almost like an accompaniment, thunder rolled in the distance, moving closer, matching the strain of the music.

  She reached the end of the song, and, exhausted, dropped her hands to her lap. As the last echoes of the music drifted through the air, the clock chimed ten times.

  Funny. She didn’t remember winding the clock.

  She opened her eyes.

  And noticed the silence. Complete silence. The deafening roar of the thunder was only an echo in her head.

  Then she saw him. Standing there in the doorway watching her. Augustus was everywhere she looked. Perhaps it was his ghost. She shuddered and pressed her fingers against her eyes. She was hallucinating again. Maybe it was time to go in for psychological testing. She would have to go out of state. Just for privacy’s sake. She’d done some graduate work at the University of Utah Neuropsychological Institute. She’d always felt that the staff there provided the best treatment. That was where she’d go.

  She slid off the bench, not the most ladylike way to maneuver her hoops, but she was alone so no harm done.

  She walked around the piano, feeling like a ghost in the dark, silent house.

  Yes, it was time to go in for treatment. She’d been wearing the same dress for three days, not even daring to take a shower. They’d put disheveled in the report. And disoriented to place and time. Not to mention hallucinations.

  Laughter spilled from her lips. Inappropriate affect. She could write the report for them.

  Careful not to trip over her skirts, she turned around, and bumped right into the solid form of what could only be a man.

  Chapter 73

  Augustus was drawn to the vision sitting at the piano. When she stood up, he inched closer. The music was still in the air. A very usual dream.

  Then she turned and walked right into him.

  And his arms were full of Arabella.

  She yelped.

  “Arabella, it’s me. It’s Augustus.”

  She pulled away. “No. Ghosts aren’t supposed to touch.”

  “I’m not a ghost, my love.”

  He picked her up and carried her to the sofa. He sat down with her in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck. She shifted to adjust her hoop skirt, then she touched his face. He hadn’t shaved in days. No wonder she didn’t recognize him.

  “It really is you,” she whispered, a look of wonderment in her expression.

  He chuckled. “And it really is you.” He wound his fingers in her long, soft hair and pressed a kiss lightly on her lips.

  She shuddered and closed her eyes, her lips trembling.

  “Oh Arabella.” He pressed his cheek against hers, feeling the breath from her parted lips against his skin. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. He couldn’t get her close enough. “My Arabella.”

  She sighed against his ear and set his body on fire.

  “Charles said you’d come back.”

  She froze. “Oh God.” She disengaged herself from his hug, leaning back to search his eyes. “My father.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is he, Augustus?” When she didn’t see answers in his eyes, she shifted out of his arms, and put her feet on the floor. “I have to… Where is he?”

  “He’s upstairs.”

  She turned and gathered up her skirts.

  “Wait,” he said. “He isn’t…” But she was gone in a whirlwind of chiffon.

  Chapter 74

  Arabella’s feet barely touched the floor as she flew across the foyer, up the stairs, and down the hallway. As much as she wanted to see Augustus, her father’s life was in peril.

  Which room?

  He would be in his bedroom.

  She reached the door. Knocked lightly, but when there was no immediate answer, she pushed the door open. “Hello?”

  No answer.

  She crept forward and could see that someone was in the bed. “Father?” She whispered the word, but dread filled her heart. She was too late.

  She reached the bedside and the man opened his eyes. A smile lit his lips. “Ericka.”

  “Father.” She sat on the edge of the bed. He didn’t look well. His eyes were hollow and bruised.

  “I knew you’d come.” He was delirious. He thought she was her mother.

  She felt in her pocket for the little bottle with the antibiotics. With one hand, she unclipped the safety pin while she looked around for some water. Was there no pitcher of water in this room?

  She jerked the bell cord.

  Her hands trembling, she set the bottle on the nightstand. Paced to the door and back again to the bed.

  His eyes had drifted closed. Oh no! She paced back to the door. Threw it open.

  Villars approached, walking slowly, one hand on his back hip. “Mistress Arabella.” He smiled. “It’s good that you’re back. Mister Charles. He needs you.”

  “Yes. Some water. Please. Quickly.”

  “Of course.” He turned, picked up his pace and shuffled down the hallway.

  She caught up with him in two steps. “Where is it? Let me get it.”

  “There’s a pitcher in my room. But…”

  Arabella pushed open the door at the end of the hallway and went into what was little more than a small alcove.

  “It ain’t fitting.”

  “It’s okay, Villars. It’s urgent.”

  She grabbed the glass pitcher and a glass, dashed past him, and back to her father’s room.

  She splashed water into the glass and took a pill from the bottle. “Charles,” she said.

  When he didn’t respond, she put a hand behind his head. He blinked and looked at her. “Swallow this.” She held the pill in front of him. He opened his mouth and she put the pill on his tongue. She held the water to his lips and he swallowed.

  She sat back. Rel
ief flooding through her. Though she had it memorized, she checked the bottle. Four times a day. She had to wait 6 hours for the next dose. In the meantime, she could clean the wound. She pulled the bottle of antiseptic out of her pocket and set it next to the pill bottle.

  “What are you doing?”

  She jumped. Augustus stood behind her. “I have medication.”

  He glanced at the 2 bottles on the nightstand. “You have Hostetter’s Bitters?”

  “What? No. These are… antibiotics.”

  “Anti what? Where did you get these?”

  She bit her lip. She hadn’t considered that he wouldn’t understand. She thought he’d be pleased that she had a treatment for her father’s condition.

  “I… brought them with me.”

  He glanced at her sideways and picked up the bottle. “Wall Greens.” He read. “Is this some new peddler of quackery? Who sold them to you?”

  Chapter 75

  “Will you help me wash his wound?”

  Augustus had seen this before. Loved ones would go to any extreme to try and prolong someone’s life. It was understandable, of course.

  As a physician, however, it was a fine line between his patient’s interest and not allowing the loved one to do more harm.

  He reminded himself that Arabella was well educated. Still, the sophistication level of quackery had no doubt only grown worse with time.

  “Please.” Tears spilled from her eyes.

  Hell, he couldn’t tell her no. “Very well.” He took the bottle of antiseptic from her. “How much of this do we give him?”

  She looked puzzled. “Give him? No. No, this is topical. To clean the wound.”

  “The wound is already infected.”

  “But this will help. We need a cloth.”

  He picked up a rag from the bedside table.

  She shook her head. “It has to be clean.” She glanced around. “We need to boil water.”

  Augustus pulled the bell cord and a second later Villars pushed open the cracked door. “I have some hot water on the way, Sir.”

  “I’ll go hurry them up.” Arabella dashed from the room.

  “How did you know what I wanted?” Augustus asked Villars.

  Villars grinned. “I been helping Mistress Ericka for quite some time now.”

  Augustus sat in the chair near the bed. He picked up the smaller bottle and read the label. He attempted to open the lid, but it was locked. He held the bottle up to the lantern.

  “Sir?” Villars interrupted his inspection.

  “Yes, Villars?” Augustus turned to see that the older man was standing next to him.

  “The Becquerel women, sir. There’s something you should know.”

  How much did the older man know? He’d known Arabella right away. As a doctor, Augustus didn’t put much stock in mysticism, but as a man, he dreaded what Villars was trying to tell him.

  “They have different ways of doing things than most people.”

  Augustus scoffed. “Doesn’t make it right.”

  “Sir.” Villars waited for Augustus to look him in the eyes. His tone carried a weight that struck fear in Augustus’ heart. “If anyone can save Mr. Charles, it’s Arabella. Not you. I know you’re the doctor and all, but don’t fight Miss Arabella on this. I saw Mistress Ericka save Miss Andrea’s life. Everyone knew she was gonna die, but she lived, Sir. Miss Andrea lived because Miss Ericka knew what to do. Let Miss Arabella save Mr. Charles.” Villars turned and shuffled toward the door.

  Augustus knew Villars was right. It was a hard thing to admit – that a physician’s knowledge wasn’t enough. That Arabella had brought something back with her that could save this man.

  He picked up the bottle and held it toward the light. There were a lot of numbers on the bottle. Numbers he’d disregarded, but as he looked more closely he noticed that one number was set apart and could easily be a date.

  6.09.2018

  Chapter 76

  Arabella stopped on the landing and watched as Minny brought a pail of steaming hot water up the stairs.

  She used the moment to take deep steadying breaths.

  I need to remain calm. I’m here. I have the medication started. Everything is under control.

  As Minny reached the top of the stair landing, Arabella took the pail from her hands. “I’ve got it from here. Thank you so much, Minny.”

  “I keep the hot water on all the time, so just tug the bell cord three times. I’ll bring some more up to you.”

  “I will.” Arabella smiled and turned. With both hands on the heavy water pail, she failed to lift the hem of her skirt. Instead, she stepped on her skirt and though she tried to untangle herself, it only made matters worse.

  She fell onto the stairs, the pail crashing against the floor, the hot water spilling everywhere.

  Chapter 77

  Augustus heard a commotion coming from the stairway.

  It only took him seconds to reach the top of the stairs where he saw Arabella crumpled on the landing. He practically slid down the steps.

  “Arabella!” He called her name as he gathered her into his arms, but her head lolled on in his arms. There was blood. “Oh no. No. No.” In the moment, he wasn’t a doctor, but a man holding his unconscious love in his arms. “Arabella.” He called her name over and over.

  She murmured something incomprehensible. He wiped at the blood on the side of her forehead. Her eyes blinked, but closed again.

  He gathered her in his arms and carried her up the stairs to his room. As he laid her gently on his bed, she opened her eyes and looked at him. “What.” She murmured.

  “Arabella!”

  Her eyes were glazed, but she was awake. He hugged her against his chest, but she was still limp.

  He breathed in deeply and laid her back against the pillows. I need to examine her. His heart was racing, but he went into physician mode. He needed to stop the bleeding first. He picked up a cloth from his bedside table and pressed it against the side of her head.

  She blinked again and focused her gaze on his. A spurt of relief shot through him.

  Her voice was soft. “Who are you?”

  Chapter 78

  Arabella woke with a splitting headache. It was perplexing because she rarely got headaches. She opened her eyes and looked around while avoiding moving her head.

  There was an adolescent girl with dark skin sitting in a chair next to her bed. The girl was humming and moving her head back and forth. Arabella didn’t see any kind of phone or Ipod device… or earbuds, but the girl had a bandana wrapped around her head so maybe it just wasn’t visible.

  Arabella rubbed the side of her head and winced at the tenderness. Even more unexpected was she, too, was wearing some type of cloth around her head. Using both hands, she determined it was a cloth wrapped around her head, tied in the back.

  Suddenly a loud bell started ringing. Arabella pressed her fingers over her ears to lessen the loud noise. It was the girl. She was ringing a handheld bell.

  Seconds later, the girl stopped with the bell as a man rushed into the room. “Thank you, Leeza. You can take a break now.”

  He looked familiar. But she was having trouble focusing with all the noise and the headache. He smelled good. Like soap and antiseptic. It reminded her of something… A hospital. Was she in a hospital?

  “Arabella.”

  Yes. She blinked and gazed into the man’s deep blue eyes. His handsome face was lined with worry.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  She felt like she should know him. “You’re my doctor?”

  He scrunched his brows. “Yes… Do you know my name?”

  She couldn’t think. She shook her head, but immediately stopped when it made her head hurt worse.

  She put her hand on the bandage wrapped around her head. “What is this?”

  “It’s a bandage. You fell. And hit your head.”

  “When?”

  “A day and half ago.”

  She licked her dry lips.
“Water.”

  He put a glass to her lips and she sipped. The water tasted different. It was warm.

  “How do you feel?”

  “My head is pounding.”

  “You hit your head.”

  “Where?”

  “On the stairs. You tripped over your dress.”

  How did someone trip over their dress? She hadn’t worn a long dress since senior prom. “How is that even possible?”

  He seemed confused by her question. “The skirt…” He placed a wrist on her forehead. “No fever,” he murmured. She closed her eyes again. His voice was soothing. Familiar even.

  “Do you have any Tylenol?

  “I don’t think so.”

  Chapter 79

  Augustus checked his watch. He’d been giving Charles the medicine every six hours. The bottle said four a day, so he figured that was the safest way to do it.

  After listening to what Villars had to say, Augustus had decided not to discount Charles’ ramblings after all. They both seemed to think that the Becquerel women had magical healing powers.

  As Charles began to recover, Augustus became less inclined to argue.

  He had another two hours before he had to give Charles his dose. Arabella was asleep again. He felt better that she had least regained consciousness, even if she didn’t seem to know who he was or even where she was. More specifically, she didn’t seem to know when she was.

  He’d had one of the women undress her and put a nightgown on her. He folded back the blanket and climbed into bed next to her.

  Maybe if he just held her, snuggled her close against him, it would help her heal. He had no reason to believe that this was a rational idea, but with all that he’d seen lately, he was inclined to believe just about anything.