The Widow of Saunders Creek

by Tracey Bateman

  We climbed the steps, wary. Lola held on to my hand tightly. The temperature seemed to drop by a good ten degrees when we stepped from the hallway into my bedroom. I might have made a Ghostbusters comment myself if not for the knot in my throat that choked off my ability to push out words.

  “This is the room where we each sensed the strongest concentration of energy, and we believe it is where we should attempt our spirit communication.”

  Odd, I thought, since I never slept in here. Why would this be the room Jarrod chose to communicate with me?

  But I kept my mouth shut and accepted their expertise. Tonia spoke. “I’m sensing a human spirit wanting to speak with you, Corrie.”

  Why was I suddenly so uneasy? This is what I had wanted all along. To hear Jarrod say something. Ignoring the twinge of fear, I nodded. “Okay.”

  “First, he wants you to know how much he loves you and that he’s sorry he had to leave you.”

  Lola snorted. I knew she was thinking that anyone would say that about a husband who died. I squeezed her hand hard. Aunt Trudy glared at her, and she straightened up.

  “He wants to say something to prove to you that he’s here.”

  She cocked her head to one side, as though listening. Then she nodded. “He says to tell you he knows you were angry he died but that drinking is never the answer, and he’s glad you haven’t done it again since the first night you spent on the swing.”

  Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. The words she was saying were supposed to prove that the things I’d been feeling were Jarrod. But it was all too much. Too personal. He should have known I didn’t want anyone to know about that night.

  I glanced around the room, looking for something. My mind was beginning to play tricks on me. I saw shadows everywhere. Shadows that moved across the walls. I focused on an object leaning against the wall next to my closet. Something tapped my shoulder, and I jerked my head to the left, but no one was there. My gaze went back to the wall. The painting of my house stared back at me ominously.

  “Corrie.” Lola squeezed my hand. “Are you okay?”

  “The painting I took downstairs this morning. It’s up here.”

  “I didn’t move it.”

  I knew that. I knew it instinctively, as I know that the moon is always in the sky, even during the brightness of a sunny day. I couldn’t explain why, but I knew. As I stared at the image of the shadow in the attic, it seemed to come out of the painting and waft toward me as a gray cloud.

  Maybe it was from my lack of sleep, but I suddenly felt lightheaded. My breathing came harder and harder, and my chest felt like something was pressing hard against me, trying to shove out my very life. “I … can’t …” I reached for Lola.

  “I’m getting you out of here,” she said. “You’re having a panic attack.”

  Ava followed us down the stairs and to the back deck. I dropped into a chair, and Lola shoved my head between my knees. “Deep breaths. You’ll be okay.”

  “Should I tell those two you’re not coming back?” Ava asked.

  “What do you think?” Lola said. It was uncharacteristically harsh, especially considering Ava was a stranger.

  To her credit, Ava seemed to understand. “Okay, I’ll tell them.”

  “Think you could have been a little meaner?” I said, sitting up. My breathing was returning to normal. “I think you owe her an apology.”

  She pursed her lips. “Probably.” She turned to me. “Do you think it was him?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.” I couldn’t give voice to what I had experienced in that room. The overwhelming sense of dread as that shadow moved toward me.

  I expected to feel love, joy at the confirmation of his presence. All I’d felt was fear.

  Eli

  Two days after my talk with Terry, I showed up to work at the camp with new perspective. I realized I had to surrender my jealousy of Jarrod and pretty much just get over it. As I went about the morning, actively choosing forgiveness, I felt there was hope that I might stop feeling I had to compete with him, even in death. My feelings for Corrie were just as strong as they had been, and I missed seeing her for the past two days, but I didn’t want to impose, and I wanted to be able to go to her free of the weight I’d been carrying around for some time.

  At noon Terry called to invite me to a men’s retreat at a lodge in Branson for a day and a half, ending after a service Sunday morning. I started to refuse because I had a ton of work to do and a sermon to prepare for a ten o’clock Sunday service that I couldn’t cancel with this little notice.

  Terry interrupted me before I had the chance to offer my excuses. “I know there’s still work to be done at the camp, but I’ve rounded up a few of my friends, and we’re coming out next Saturday. I think the retreat would do you good. I also know you would have to leave early to preach your own service, and that’ll be just fine.” He continued on without giving me a chance to say no before he offered every reason to say yes. “Everyone needs to take time away for some R and R. We’re going to do some fishing and praying and Bible study. What do you say?”

  I was blown away by his generosity, and I didn’t see how I could refuse the retreat. “First, I say thank you for getting the workday together. And second, I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Great. I’ll e-mail you the directions. Oh, and bring your bow. We’re planning a manly target contest.”

  We hung up, and I decided to work for another hour before going home to shower and pack a bag. I was starting to look forward to the retreat.

  Sweat poured from me as the sun beat down overhead. Mid nineties was a heat wave in southwest Missouri this early in the year. Just as I was locking the mower in the barn and knocking off for the day, I glanced up and saw a horse and rider coming toward me.

  My gut clenched as I recognized Ava, but I had to forgive her too. Friends quarreled and got over it. I was hoping we could too.

  “Hey, there,” she said.

  She sat as regal as a queen high on her chestnut mare, Pinecone. Her cowboy hat shaded a pair of sunglasses. She wore blue jeans and a sleeveless shirt that revealed defined, deeply tanned arms. “Hey, there,” I said, hoping my tone didn’t reflect the dread I was feeling.

  “Catch,” she said, and tossed down a round, basketball-sized watermelon. “From Daddy. He says thanks again for offering the firewood. They’ll need it.”

  I caught the watermelon. “Tell him thanks.”

  Pinecone nudged me. Ava laughed. “Look who misses you.”

  Reaching up, I rubbed the horse’s long face. “More likely she misses the sugar cubes I used to bring her. But I’m fresh out today.”

  “It’s okay. She’s gotten fat this spring. All that fresh grass in the field and no one to make her exercise.” She smiled, flashing beautiful white teeth. One thing about Ava, she was beautiful. She’d grown from a cute child to a pretty teen to a beautiful woman. At thirty years old, she made Hollywood beauties look as though they were just trying too hard. Her straight dark hair blew around her face a little, and she definitely made a pretty picture. But pretty had never been our problem. And despite my appreciation of her beauty, I was wary of this impromptu visit.

  She climbed off the horse, and I averted my gaze as her shirt slid up, revealing her midriff. Thankfully, she pulled the shirt down.

  “What are you doing here, Ava?”

  Her eyes clouded with what I thought might be hurt. “I’m here for two reasons. First, to say good-bye. I’m heading back to St. Louis tomorrow. Mom’s all better, and the store is pretty much ready for the onslaught of customers.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t exactly sorry to see her go. “When will we see you again?”

  She shrugged. “Who knows? I thought I’d help out in the store over the summer solstice, but Mom hired a girl to help.” She took a long breath. “So Thanksgiving, probably.”

  Ignoring my clear inability to respond, she continued. “The other reason I came is to apologize for what I said about Jarr
od.”

  My heart went out to her, and I offered her a smile. “It’s okay. Actually, your comment helped me work through some things. So I guess I should be thanking you.”

  I opened the door to the chow hall and stood back as she ducked under my arm and walked in. “Thank goodness it’s cool in here,” she breathed out.

  “I just turned off the AC, so it shouldn’t warm up too quickly.”

  She raised her eyebrows and turned to look at me as we headed toward the kitchen. “Why’d you turn it off? It’s melting out there.”

  “I’m knocking off early. I have a retreat to go to.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, it’s last minute.”

  “Well, I should go, then,” she said, but something about her demeanor seemed different. More subdued. It was clear something was troubling her and she’d come to talk.

  “I have a few hours,” I said, motioning her to the bar stool and moving around to the refrigerator. “I have water.”

  “That’s perfect.”

  I lifted two bottles from the shelf, shut the door, slid hers across the counter, and leaned forward, resting on my elbows. “So what’s bugging you?”

  Her gaze jerked to mine, then she grinned as she opened the bottle. She lifted it to her lips and stared at me as she took a long drink. “Well, I sort of do have something to tell you.”

  Defenses rising, I eyed her, determined not to let anything she said make me mad.

  But I could see her eyes beginning to mist. Ava wasn’t a crier. She never really had been, so I knew this mattered and that it likely had nothing to do with me. I walked around to the other side of the counter and pulled her into my arms. She felt small. Thinner. “You okay?” I asked as she sniffled against my shirt.

  She breathed out deeply. “I’m pregnant.”

  My heart sped up at the news and not in a good way. I pulled her away from me and stared at her. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Four months.”

  “I couldn’t even tell.”

  “I have a tiny baby bump, but not much yet.”

  “Where’s the baby’s dad?”

  “Back with his wife.”

  I stared into her eyes, a little shocked, I had to admit. “A married man?”

  She gave my chest a light punch. “Hey, no judgment.”

  “Okay, sorry.” My head was still wrapping around her news. “Just processing.”

  “Anyway, for your information, I didn’t know I was dating a married man. He told me he was divorced. Turns out he was only separated, and two days after I got back from my last visit here, he realized he still loved his wife and didn’t want to marry his pregnant girlfriend.”

  “Wow. I’m so sorry, Ava.” I couldn’t be sorry about a marriage reconciled, but the thought of anyone treating Ava like this got my back up. “What does the wife think about her husband fathering a child during their little break from marriage?”

  “She doesn’t know, and he asked me not to contact him.” She gave a bitter laugh. “First he tried to buy me off. And when I told him to go to you know where, he changed his tactics and told me he is willing to give up all parental rights.”

  I couldn’t believe how calm she was being about it all. “Well, too bad, right? You’re going after him for child support, I hope.”

  She scowled at me as if she couldn’t believe I’d had the audacity to say such a thing. “No way. I’d rather support the baby on my own and have him out of my life for good. It’s his choice.” Her eyes spilled over, and I pulled her back in.

  “Well, I’m proud of you for keeping the baby. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

  “No. I don’t want to know until the baby is born.” She pulled back again. I grabbed a handful of napkins from the counter and handed them to her. “But Mom used a pendulum across my belly. She says it’s a boy.”

  “Well, then.”

  “Don’t start,” she warned, giving me another little punch, and I knew she was doing better. “I’ve never known my mother’s pendulum to miss in predicting the sex of a baby.”

  I let her comment slide. No sense giving my opinion about the old folk practice. “I guess now that you’re going to be a mother I better be a little nicer to you.”

  “That’s right, and if he truly is a boy, I might name him after you.”

  “I’d be honored.” I reached forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Somehow, before I quite knew how, she was in my arms again, and her lips were on mine. She wrapped her arms around mine, snuggling herself closer to me. Corrie’s face flashed to my mind. I grabbed Ava’s wrists and gently pushed her away. “Ava …”

  Tears filled her eyes. “You know, I’d hoped you might want to marry me out of pity and help me raise the baby.”

  I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand. “Don’t. I would never have let you do it anyway. Besides, even if you haven’t figured it out yet, I know you’ve fallen for Corrie.”

  Even though I wasn’t inclined to share my feelings about Corrie with her, I didn’t bother to deny it.

  She nodded. “So you have figured it out.”

  “I’m still figuring it out.” I smiled.

  “She was pretty shaken up yesterday after Mom and your aunt Trudy did that reading.”

  A jolt hit me full in the gut, and I almost doubled over. “Why were they doing that?”

  Narrowing her gaze, she looked me straight in the eye. “Well, they didn’t shove their way into the house and tie her up. Why do you think they were there?”

  “Corrie asked for a reading?” Didn’t she know how dangerous that could be? “So what happened?”

  “Mom and Miss Trudy found the highest concentration of energy in the master bedroom, so we all went up there.”

  “You too?”

  “How else would I have known about it?”

  I wanted to help Corrie avoid the slippery slope that someone could start down after opening herself up that way. “Anyway, tell me what happened. Did something … manifest?”

  “You mean did someone manifest?”

  I wasn’t going to dignify her comment with a response. “I guess I mean, how is Corrie?”

  The smug expression fell from Ava’s face. “Jarrod, or whatever, spoke to my mom about an incident on the porch swing where Corrie was drunk.” She finished off her water and stood, tossing the bottle into a large rubber garbage can at the end of the counter. Then she turned to me slowly, in her dramatic way. “She had a panic attack and ran out of the house. Her sister took care of her. Miss Trudy was pretty disgusted.” She gave a short laugh. “I doubt she’s ever going to speak to Corrie again.”

  I was pretty sure she would. Aunt Trudy never held a grudge.

  “Well,” Ava said, “I’m going to go so you can do what you need to do. Thanks for taking time to talk.” She headed to the door. “Good-bye, Eli. I’ll see you in a few months. Say hello to Corrie for me,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You know you’re hotfooting it over there as soon as I’m out of sight.”

  Corrie’s Jeep sat in front of her house when I pulled up a few hours later. The retreat began at seven, and I had just enough time to tell her I would be leaving so there was no need for her to show up to help out at the camp, in case she had any intention of doing so after two days of silence. I couldn’t leave for another day and a half without at least seeing her, hearing her voice, knowing she was okay.

  Lola answered the back door. “Eli. How’ve you been?”

  “I’ve been fine.”

  She stepped aside and welcomed me in. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Thanks, it’s good to see you too.” I tried not to be too obvious about looking for Corrie as we walked down the hallway, past the kitchen. “I’m going to a retreat this weekend, but I was hoping to see Corrie before I go.”

  As if on cue, Corrie appeared at the living room door. “Hey, Eli,” she said. Her smile seemed genuine enough, but there was a hesitance in her eyes that gave me pause.
/>   “Is that for us?” Lola asked, pointing at the watermelon. I nodded and handed it to her. “It’s a re-gift.” A sheepish grin tugged at my mouth, and I felt like a dope for bringing Corrie something so stupid.

  “Great,” Lola said. “We love watermelon, don’t we, Corrie?”

  Corrie nodded. “Thank you. We’ll put it to good use.”

  Lola headed toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink, Eli?” she asked in her soft southern tone. “I think we have tea and Coke.”

  I shook my head and found it hard to look away from Corrie, whose eyes had never left mine. “No thanks, I have to get on the road. I can’t stay.”

  Corrie’s eyebrows rose. “Going somewhere?”

  “Branson, for a men’s retreat.”

  “Oh. Sounds like fun.”

  “Should be.” Being at a loss for words wasn’t typical for me, and I found it extremely disconcerting. She stared at me, as though waiting for me to get on with it and get out.

  “I just wanted to check on you before I go. It’s been a couple of days, so …”

  “I know. I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

  The tension in the room was palpable. I wanted to go back outside and do this better—I’d leave the watermelon in the truck, for starters.

  “I’ll be gone until Sunday, so …”

  “Everyone needs to get away every now and then.”

  The awkwardness was crazy considering how well we’d come to know each other. And as much as I tried to convince myself that I was only there to say good-bye, I had a much more important reason, and I couldn’t leave without telling her.

  “Listen, Corrie,” I said. “I heard about—”

  “I knew that’s why you showed up.” She glared at me and flounced to the couch. “Feel free to sit down, but I can’t handle a lecture, Eli. Today’s been hard enough already.” She dropped onto the couch. She grabbed a couch pillow and clung to it. I knew enough about psychology from my seminary course work to recognize a defense mechanism. Stung, I sat in the rocking chair, trying not to be hurt that she needed to protect herself from me. “I have no intention of lecturing you. I just want to make sure you’re fine.”