The Wells Brothers: Luke

by Angela Verdenius

  That startled Luke so much he straightened with a snap, forgetting he was partially in the car and almost taking his head off. Luckily Mikki yanked him back in time.

  Astonished, Luke looked down at her. “She what?”

  “You heard.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  No, she looked dead serious. Luke glanced at the airy-fairy across the road talking to Lanky. The woman was known to be a bit eccentric at times, maybe she had hidden depths. Aaron would know those depths but…nah, couldn’t be. Could it? He looked back at Mikki.

  “Actually, I’m messing with you.” She smiled broadly. “For my own amusement.”

  “This day is doing my head in,” he muttered.

  All hilarity fled as she looked at him thoughtfully for several seconds before murmuring, “Isn’t it just?”

  They looked at each other for long seconds before Luke beeped the locks closed and walked beside her back to where Elspeth and Lanky waited.

  ~*~

  Pushing branches aside, Mikki led the way down the narrow pathway. The bushes had grown thickly, almost as though in an attempt to hide the way to the graveyard. The breeze blew softly, rustling the undergrowth, but she could almost imagine it was restless spirits annoyed at her determination to disturb their place of rest.

  Nothing worked like an overactive imagination.

  Behind her trod Aunt Elspeth, her dainty dress and high heels swapped for expensive jeans and white sneakers.

  “Just imagine,” Elspeth was saying. “If we widen this track to a much more suitable three-abreast width, and pave it as Luke suggested, we can open it up to the visitors. I just know some of them would love seeing the old chapel and graveyard.”

  “You could have a night tour. Or dusk. Dusk is good,” Mikki decided, ignoring the scratch she got on her arm from a particularly stubborn branch. “Ghosts like dusk. It’s the time between night and day, when two worlds collide.”

  “I like it.”

  “So do ghosts and thrill seekers.”

  “Maybe we should come back at dusk instead of midnight to see if we can find a ghost.” Elspeth paused, thought, then shook her head. “Even better, let’s come at dusk and midnight.”

  Mikki jerked a strand of hair away from an overhanging branch. “I might be bald by then.”

  “No worries. We can use the moonlight shining off your head to light the way.”

  “Trust you to find an economical way to create light.”

  Elspeth laughed.

  After several more minutes of walking, they stepped out into a small clearing. Underfoot was thick grass and weeds, some of the weeds reaching as high as their waists, but what took Mikki’s attention was the view. Right in front of them was an old chapel, the stone-work still intact, the old, wooden door partially open to the elements. It even had a little porch roof, sagging and in bad need of repair. An old stained glass window was, amazingly, still intact. To the left was a fenced in graveyard, and surprisingly, further away a second small graveyard.

  “Chapel first!” Elspeth said, and with undignified haste approached it.

  Many would think her nuts, but Mikki understood her aunt. Discoveries like this excited her, and she embraced excitement whole-heartedly. It gave her that whimsical air - and that eccentric label. It also made discovering things with her loads of fun.

  Mikki followed her through the door. It was hard to open. Elspeth slid through with no worries, Mikki nearly got her boobs squashed. “Geez.”

  “Suck in, sweetie, suck in,” Elspeth called out.

  “I can suck in my belly, my boobs are a whole other story.” Mikki eased inside and looked around. “Wow.”

  The chapel was old, festooned with cobwebs, smelling faintly of animal urine and covered in dust, but it still retained the atmosphere. Amazingly, four pews each side of the room remained in their places, the altar stood the test of time directly ahead, and a big wooden cross hung on the wall behind it. Three high windows marched along each wall, four with the glass intact, two broken. Shelves here and there had once held statues or candles of some kind. A couple of old hymn books sat on the closest pew, the covers damp and dusty. Mikki was too afraid to touch them in case they fell apart in her hands.

  Moving down the aisle, she opened the door to the right of the altar to find a small room. On one wall hung several hooks, a narrow wardrobe beside it, and a small desk on the other. An old wooden chair was neatly tucked under it, a mouldering armchair in the far corner.

  Elspeth appeared beside her. “Must be where the priest or minister changed into his Sunday best to preach to the family and servants.”

  “Shame there’s no clothing left.” Mikki opened the wardrobe.

  “Won’t matter. We can get the clothes recreated.” Looking around, Elspeth tapped her lips. “I don’t know whether to turn this into a museum-like piece, or open it up to services on a Sunday for the guests.”

  Moving back out into the church, Mikki looked around. “I like the idea of a small church for the guests. It’s nice.”

  “I’ll have to think about it. Maybe look at having one denomination in the morning, another in the afternoon. Or maybe just a quiet place where people could come and pray and have some quiet, reflective time, not an actual place of worship.” Elspeth moved through the aisle, tracing her fingertips across the back of the pews. “Hard to imagine that the preacher of this pious little church back in 1870 was a brimstone and hellfire one. It looks so peaceful.”

  “Maybe that’s why the door is half open,” Mikki said. “The parishioners were in a tearing hurry to get out and realise that the world wasn’t going to fall on their heads.”

  “I bet the lady of the house was sitting uneasily.” Elspeth grinned. “Imagine sitting hear listening to the hellfire and brimstone preacher, knowing that you were boffing the stable master while your husband sat stoically beside you, unaware.”

  “Ah, but was he?” Mikki wagged a finger. “According to the story at the museum, no one really knew if the man of the house suspected his wife was cheating on him.”

  “Going by his photo, he was an insipid man with not an ounce of romance or passion in him. I’m not surprised she went for the lusty stable master. Now your uncle, when he was alive, was a-”

  “Let’s not go there. Some things a niece just shouldn’t hear.”

  Smiling, Elspeth walked outside.

  Mikki looked around the little church. The high ceilings, the pews, the shelves, the cross, it all spoke of a bygone age when combined with the dust and cobwebs. But it was also peaceful, and she could just imagine the generations who must have sat here for services, weddings and funerals.

  Gaze drifting around, she could almost see the family sitting at the front of the church, the servants behind them according to their station at the mansion. No doubt this place had seen a lot of smiles and tears. If she sat here at night, would she hear the whispers of the past? Maybe see a ghostly bride? Though why there’d be a bridal ghost…then again, it was said that one of the brides had married against her wish, that she’d loved another man, and had hung herself on her wedding night after consummating the marriage.

  After a last look around the deserted chapel, she went outside to see Elspeth already checking out one of the graveyards. Or what she could see of her with the weeds up to her waist.

  “I hope you’re watching for snakes,” Mikki called out.

  Elspeth held up a stick. “I swished this around the grass as I came in, made sure I walked really slowly to give time for the snakes to go away.”

  “Or maybe you just irritated the crap out of them and one is waiting right now to bite.”

  Elspeth didn’t even bother to glance her way. “Nope.”

  Hands in pockets, Mikki moseyed over to the graveyard, admiring the angels standing high, the elaborate headstones, the simpler headstones, even a cracked above-ground tomb. Standing just outside the graveyard, she eyed the fence. Old,
rusty, iron bars with sharp tips. Or they had been sharp. “Do you ever wonder why graveyards have pointed fencing?”

  “To keep the riff-raff out.”

  “Or,” Mikki lowered her tone ominously, “to keep something in?”

  Elspeth brightened. “Wally said there was a grave in unconsecrated ground. Quick, check around the outside of the fence.”

  “Oh yeah, the bride. She committed suicide, and in those days they were buried in unconsecrated ground.” Always interested in old graveyards, Mikki quickened her step.

  Unfortunately, with all the high weeds and grass, she had to take it slowly because of both snakes and being unable to see properly. It took her a little while of pushing grass and weeds aside with her foot to find the grave. Actually, she found it by tripping over the small headstone and falling arse over tit over it.

  Lifting her head, she called out, “I’m okay!”

  “With what?” Elspeth called back.

  Realising that her aunt hadn’t even been watching, nor see her through the weeds, Mikki replied, “I’m on the ground.”

  “Whatever for, sweetie?” From the abstracted tone of voice, she was deeply intrigued by something she’d seen.

  Pushing to her feet, Mikki looked over to see Elspeth bent almost in half as she valiantly tugged at a handful of thick weeds and grass to try and reveal some of the headstone of which she stood in front.

  “Aren’t you rich enough to hire someone to do that for you?” Mikki asked.

  “I think this is the double grave containing the remains of a wife and her captain who came back from World War One.” Elspeth gave a heave and grunt, then staggered backwards with a few measly weeds in her hands. Disgruntled, she placed her hands on her hips and scowled down at the grave. “Clearing this graveyard is a priority.”

  “So is making the mansion liveable.”

  “Yes, but this captain gave his life for his country, he deserves recognition.”

  “His medals are in the museum.”

  “Mikki, every man who died for his country deserves the dignity of having his grave unforgotten.” Elspeth looked around. “There are quite a few graves here. I know!” She snapped her fingers. “Some of these men died in the wars. I’m going to have a statue honouring them raised on the other side of the fence, have a war memorial of sorts. Brilliant plan!” Beaming, she turned to Mikki. “What do you think?”

  “Actually, I think it’s a wonderful way to remember them.” Mikki pointed to the ground before her. “Here’s the unconsecrated grave.”

  Tossing the measly handful of weed and grass aside, Elspeth walked out of the fenced-in graveyard to Mikki’s side. Silently, they both looked down at the headstone. It simply had a faded name and date of birth and death.

  “Wow,” Elspeth murmured, “that’s bleak.”

  “Maybe you should have a bigger headstone made.”

  “I want to keep the originals, restore them if possible. But we can do something nice for her, maybe a little urn with a flowering plant or angel statue or something behind the headstone. She shouldn’t be forgotten.”

  Arms folded, they regarded the headstone for several contemplative minutes before Elspeth was once more on the move. “Look, over there is the servants’ graveyard.”

  This cluster of headstones only had a fence half as high as the family graveyard, the headstones plainer.

  “Years of servitude,” Mikki commented, “and they only got a lump of stone with their names and dates.”

  “They probably counted themselves lucky their employers would bury them and it didn’t fall to their families to find the money.”

  Mikki and Elspeth spent a pleasant half hour checking out the headstones, Elspeth discussing her plans to restore the graveyards while trying to keep them as original as possible.

  Heading back to the mansion, Mikki spotted Luke standing on the ground, leaning back against the veranda. The old posts were peeling, some of the cement chinked out. Holding a sketchpad, he was chewing on the end of a pencil while looking at the view ahead of him and back at the sketchpad. On the veranda beside him stood a stack of papers containing the photocopied pictures out of the books, his sunglasses holding them down.

  As his hands stroked the pencil over the page, Mikki couldn’t help but remember the feel of that hand on her back - and even more disturbing, those long fingers curling slightly under her bottom as she’d sat on his lap. Cripes, it was enough to make her cheeks go a little red and her breath hitch at the memory. Geez, she could still feel the strength in those fingers. Not to mention quite an intimate grip.

  Hoo boy. Mentally she fanned herself. She still couldn’t believe that he’d held her, looked at her, the glint in his eyes totally wicked, almost carnal, and she was sure, so damned sure, he’d been about to actually kiss her.

  But that had to be her imagination. He’d been messing with her, she was sure of it, getting revenge for her teasing.

  Or she tried to tell herself that. Completely flustered by the whole episode, all she could do was drag on her composure and keep on going like nothing had happened. In fact, it was easier when he acted like normal. Made her think she’d imagined that carnal gleam in his eyes.

  “Luke, sweetie.” Elspeth stopped beside him. “How’s it coming along?”

  “Not bad. Got a few ideas.” He pointed the pencil at the circular driveway. “I think it would be beneficial to keep this driveway like they did in the old days, that way taxis could drop people off near the front. The circular park in the middle could contain masses of different coloured roses, they look good yet old fashioned.” He smiled down at her. “Roses never go out of fashion, and they do well in drier conditions once established. The masses of colour are beautiful, and if we mix them just right they’ll be a vibrant display to the eye.” He turned the sketchpad around for Elspeth to see. “On the ground between the roses I was thinking maybe Vinca ground covers. There’s a variety of violet and white. What do you think?”

  “Not bad.” She studied the sketchpad. “I like the idea, but I wouldn’t want the whole area covered in roses.”

  “I was thinking maybe a large fountain in the middle. Mansions sometimes had a fountain. We could put a pathway to the fountain for those wanting to walk to it.”

  “But if we did the roses, wouldn’t it detract from the fountain?”

  “Okay. We could use ground cover roses. That way you’d still have the colour and beauty, and be able to see the fountain.

  Elspeth nodded slowly. “I like that idea.”

  “I’ll play with it a little more. Do you prefer another kind of flowering bush?” Luke tapped the end of the pencil against his chin. “We can go grass and fountain, or grass and benches. Or grass with a border of flowers.” He paused. “I like flowers and bushes, but it would be beneficial to also take into consideration that rain doesn’t fall here much in summer, and drought has come through a couple of times already. Water restrictions can be a problem.”

  “There’s a bore, so we could water using that.”

  “Yes, but it would also be good to feature drought-hardy plants that look good, to show people they can have water-wise plants and still have a magnificent show. It’d be educational.”

  Turning, Elspeth looked out at the circular driveway, mulling over what he’d said.

  Luke waited quietly, not saying anything further, simply waiting for her to consider his suggestions.

  Standing beside Elspeth, Mikki tried to imagine the area as he’d suggested, but not being very imaginative in that area, she sighed. Feeling his regard, she turned her head to look at him. “I don’t have much imagination.”

  Disbelief crossed his face. “You believe in ghosts.”

  “I mean for gardens and such. I kill plastic plants.”

  He clutched his chest. “God, that hurt.”

  “I mean it. I can’t keep a flower alive to save my life.”

  “Do you have any idea how much that hurts to hear? It’s a gardener’s nightmare come
to life.”

  “It’s my one sin.”

  That had his eyebrow arching up. “One sin? Red, you have more than one sin, trust me.”

  “Oh, like you don’t?”

  “What sin do I have?”

  “Lust.”

  “Back in a minute.” Elspeth went up the steps into the mansion, leaving the door wide open.

  “Lust,” he echoed.

  “Come on, Lukey-boy. You have so many notches on your bedpost it’s a wonder the bed doesn’t collapse from weakening of the wood.”

  “Red, you haven’t seen my bedpost to comment like that.”

  “Don’t need to see it.”

  Placing the sketchpad and pencil on the veranda, he very deliberately folded his arms. “Uh huh.”

  “You have a reputation.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Man of many talents.” Pausing for effect, she studied her nails with an air of virtuous nonchalance. “So they say.”

  “So who say?”

  “You know.”

  A sudden shadow fell over her, Luke’s folded arms coming into her view as he stepped right up to her. Man, the muscles in his forearms were corded, his biceps bulging beneath the short sleeves. Fingernails forgotten, her gaze travelled upwards to the roll of his pecs, higher to his broad shoulders, strong neck, firm jaw line, straight nose and finally his slightly narrowed eyes, the blue of them so bright and bold.

  Leaning down enough to make her feel like he was crowding her, though he didn’t unfold his arms, he demanded, “Tell me.”

  So caught in his blue eyes, off-balance by his nearness, she repeated stupidly, “Tell you?”

  “Tell me where you’re getting this information.”

  Recovering, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being the first to shift, she folded her own arms and smiled brightly. “Sue-Ellen, Maryanne, Donna, Harriet, Patty, and oh yes, Jill.”

  “My my, you do get around.”

  “Lukey-boy, I work in a shop. Those girls all come to shop there. They know that I know you. Word gets around.”

  “All about my prowess in the sack, eh?”