by Glass, Debra
I inhaled as I stared at the dress lying across the foot of my bed.
My wedding dress.
My wedding day.
No family. No flowers. No guests. No cake. No photographer.
Those things didn’t matter. I loved Jeremiah and I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life and beyond.
Trembling, I unfastened the delicate row of buttons down the front. Breathing in the scent of old fabric and cedar, I stepped into the voluminous skirt with its layers of soft cotton lining. Reverently, I pulled up the lace sleeves. The dress fit me better than I’d expected. Besides, the attached sash would take up the slack in the waist.
My hands trembled as I did up the never-ending row of buttons. What would Jeremiah think when he saw me? Would he find me beautiful or would he think I was being foolish? My heart hammered as I turned to look at my reflection in the mirror.
I stared, shocked. Instead of a carefree, layered-top, jeans-and-sneakers wearing teen, a lady gazed back at me. I realized for the first time in my life, I was seeing my true self. Stepping closer, I ran my palm over my cheek, uncertain the mirror reflected my own face.
“I look…pretty,” I mumbled aloud. I hadn’t thought of myself as pretty since my accident. The sudden insight caused unexpected tears to well in my eyes.
Joy inundated me as, with renewed purpose, I brushed my long, dark hair and put on just enough lip gloss to freshen my face. Part of me couldn’t believe I was actually going through with this. And yet, I couldn’t wait to declare my love and my commitment to Jeremiah.
I slipped on a pair of pale pink ballet flats and checked my reflection once more. “Nice,” I said proudly. Excitement thrummed through me at the thought of presenting myself to Jeremiah.
Impatient for our night to begin, I gathered every candle I could find upstairs and rushed back to the attic to prepare for what I hoped would be the most romantic moment of my life.
After rolling out one of the many antique rugs stored in the attic, I situated and lighted the candles.
This place with its massive fanlight had always been magical to me. Even more so now.
I stepped back and surveyed my creation. Muted light shone through the thick glass of the fanlight, casting long shadows on the faded red and gold Oriental rug. Flickering candle flames created an enchanted glow. It was just as I had imagined and exactly what I wanted.
Although no photographer stood by to mark this moment, I knew it would remain indelibly etched in my memory, just as Jeremiah would remain as I knew him now, eternally young, for the rest of my life.
A chill passed through me but the sensation was only temporary. I’d already accepted the idea that I’d never have children of my own or know the aspects of having a relationship with a physical man. I didn’t need any of that. Jeremiah’s presence would always be enough for me. What he had to offer was just as wonderful in its own way. I could be with him and know him on a level I could never know another mortal person.
A smile crept across my face as I recalled the time he’d levitated me several feet off the floor and then later, when his spirit had come into my body, I’d felt him as if our souls had blended into one.
Without a doubt, he’d learned me from that experience as well. He’d felt my emotions, seen my life, knew my deepest, darkest secrets.
And still loved me despite them.
Steeling myself, I swept the attic to check for any changes or last minute details. Everything was perfect. Nothing was missing.
Except Jeremiah.
Fear lurched that my knees would give way as I walked to the top of the attic stairs and called to him. “Jeremiah, I’m ready.” My voice quavered.
An ethereal glow appeared in the open attic doorway and as it moved up the steps, it took shape and form and by the time he reached the top, Jeremiah was fully visible.
His eyes sparkled when he saw me. “You look…beautiful.”
My heart went crazy as terror and joy vied for prominence in my being.
“What are you doing up here?” His gaze only left mine for a second to take in the candles and rug.
I wiped my damp palms on my skirt. “Jeremiah…I…”
Fear consumed me and I wrung my hands. What if he turned me down? What if he thought I was just a silly teenager?
He closed the distance between us. His palm cupped my cheek and his thumb grazed my bottom lip. I detected a sort of knowing in his gray eyes. His smile encouraged me to continue. “Jeremiah, I want you to know…I wanted to take advantage of this time we have to be alone to…to…”
I sounded like a stammering idiot. I wanted to kick myself. Hard. Why couldn’t I utter the poetic words I’d so carefully planned?
His fingers dropped to the satin button at my throat.
I shook uncontrollably.
“This dress suits you,” he drawled as his soft gaze moved over my face.
I bit my bottom lip. Why couldn’t I shake this sudden timidity? I’d been so certain. And then, instead of any of the calm, beautiful words I had imagined reciting, I blurted, “I love you.”
His smile reached his eyes. “I love you, Wren. More than you could ever imagine.”
Courage surged. “I…I want to be your wife. Right here. Right now.”
I beamed, instantly wondering if I’d just made a complete and utter fool of myself in front of the man I loved.
A pained look twisted his features.
Disappointment flooded me. “I’m sorry. I—”
“No,” he said quickly. “Wren, you don’t understand. My God, you are so beautiful right now.”
Confused, I stared.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “You don’t know how it tortures me to see you, to hold you, to kiss you and know that you are alive and that I am not.”
“But I do.” I felt the same way about him. Not a moment passed that I didn’t wonder what it would be like if he possessed a physical body.
His eyes searched mine. “I would give my soul to be a living, breathing man right now.”
“That doesn’t matter—” I began but he interrupted.
“I would take you to the nearest parson and make you my wife.”
My head swam. My heart pounded.
“I would marry you and I would never let you go.” He thumbed a strand of hair away from my cheek.
“Marry me now,” I proposed, my voice but a hoarse breath.
That agonized look claimed his handsome features once more. “I would be selfish to do so.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I watched Ruth Polk from the time she was a bright, lively child until she died a lonely and eccentric old lady,” he said.
“I’m not Ruth Polk,” I argued. “Besides, she couldn’t see you or talk to you.” My gaze dropped to the sensuous curve of his lips and then lifted once more to his eyes. “She couldn’t kiss you.”
“I fear I am not enough for you,” he admitted. “I’m afraid I would wring the life out of you and you would eventually…hate me.”
Realization stunned me and in that instant I understood why he’d made the deal with Briar to let her cross him over.
His gaze fell to the floor. “I already hate myself.”
I seized his shoulders. “Jeremiah, no.” I shook him until he looked into my eyes again. “You agreed to let Briar cross you over because of me, didn’t you?”
A muscle in his jaw contracted. His lips trembled. “What do you want with a coward like me?”
“Coward?” This wasn’t the first time he’d referred to himself in that way.
His energy bristled. “I told myself I stayed with you because I felt you needed me.”
“I do need you.”
“No. It is I who need you, Wren,” he murmured so softly I barely heard the words. “All this time, all these years, I’ve been so angry. I felt cheated out of my life. I detested myself for breaking my promise to my parents, to my brothers. I hated myself for…dying.”
I had no words of comf
ort for him. I couldn’t assure him that his death wasn’t his fault. I knew all too well what it felt like to be riddled with guilt and fault. “I do need you,” I told him again. “I…I want you.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand.” He traced my scar as he’d done so many times. “I thought you were…fragile.”
“Are you telling me the only reason you came to me was because you pitied me?”
“No,” he replied quickly, dispelling my anxiety. “I fooled myself into thinking I needed to stay with you to keep you safe when the real reason I stayed was because I couldn’t bear to leave this life, this existence—without you.”
At that moment, I knew beyond all doubt that his love for me matched mine for him in its strength and depth. He loved me. He’d told me as much. I’d felt as much. I could even see it in his eyes but I’d never dared to dream his feelings for me ran this deep. “I don’t ever want you to leave.”
His hand trailed down my arm and then his fingers laced with mine. “Do you know what you’re asking?”
My excited breaths came in quick bursts. “Yes.”
“Do you?” His voice was stern. Serious.
I nodded. “Yes.”
He shook his head. “You and I can never be like normal people.”
“I know that.”
His fingers tightened around mine. “I will never be able to provide for you.”
I could hardly breathe. “I’ll finish school. I can take care of myself financially.”
His free hand slid around my neck and settled on the nape. My blood thickened and heated at his familiar touch.
“You know that goes against everything I was taught in my lifetime?” he asked.
I nodded. “Times are different. I can show you.”
Sadness sparked in his eyes. “You and I can never conceive children together.”
My face grew increasingly hotter and I knew I blushed. “I know.”
He stared for so long I had to avert my gaze.
“Wren,” he said, drawing my eyes back to his. “Are you certain you’ve thought this completely through?”
My heart skipped a beat as my eyes found his again. “Yes.”
“You understand that once you are completely mine, I will haunt you until you’re in the grave.”
Cold chills skittered up my spine but the thought of always being with him turned my insides to utter mush. I smiled. “I would expect no less of you.”
“I’m serious,” he said. His hard gaze penetrated mine. “I’m a jealous man, Wren.”
I recalled the time he’d chased Waylon away. “You don’t have any reason to be jealous. I’m yours, heart and soul.”
He studied my face again and then he nodded as if resigned. “I have something for you.”
I gasped when he suddenly vanished only to reappear on the other side of the attic.
Curious, I moved toward the rug I’d unrolled as he concentrated on opening one of the trunks in the shadows. My skin tingled with expectance as he pried open a secret compartment in the lid of the trunk. He looked at me and flashed a smile that made my toes curl inside my ballet flats.
I blinked and he was magically standing in front of me once more. A gasp froze in my throat.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
A smile pulled at my lips as I obeyed. His hand closed on mine and I held my breath as he lifted it. Intuitively, I knew what his surprise was but I refused to allow myself to think it, to even hope. And when I felt something cold sliding onto my finger, I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer.
My gaze fell on the most beautiful red stone I’d ever seen set in an elaborate gold setting. I stared, realizing this was my wedding ring. Speechless, my eyes connected with Jeremiah’s.
“This is a Ransom family heirloom,” he said, moving his thumb over the gem. “It’s a ruby.”
“It’s…beautiful,” I said unable to find the right words to express the emotions threatening to consume me.
“My mother hid this from the Yankees,” he murmured, his eyes clouding with faraway memories. “It was her mother’s, too. And her grandmother’s before that.”
I recalled the austere woman I’d seen that day Jeremiah’s spirit had come into my body. “She must have been a determined woman.”
“On the outside,” Jeremiah said. “Inside, she was like you.”
A tear splashed on the back of my hand and I realized I was crying. Most people who knew me would describe me as unfeeling and cold. Not Jeremiah. He knew my hard exterior was all a ruse to cover up the pain I’d known, the emotions I feared letting anyone else see.
His fingers caught me under the chin and he gently lifted my face so that I gazed into his eyes. “Wren Darby, will you be my wife?”
My stomach somersaulted.
When I’d first concocted this scheme, it had all seemed wildly romantic. Even improbable. Now, it was happening. It was real and wonderful beyond anything I could have ever imagined. The vows I’d thought up were a pale memory, unable to do justice to this moment.
I grappled to define my feelings but everything inside me tangled and jumbled as if I was skidding down a mountainside grasping at twigs and roots for some sort of elusive hand hold. And although I’d planned this—had wanted it beyond anything else in the universe—I also wanted to be certain. I had no doubt in my mind this was the right thing for me but was my motivation beneficial to Jeremiah? Was I worthy of him? Was I capable of honoring him the way he deserved to be honored, loved and respected?
“Yes,” I said aloud, answering my own questions as well as his. “Yes.”
Joy bubbled up inside me and I laughed even as he lowered his lips to mine. The ghostly energy to which I’d become so accustomed, consumed me. I shook with it and quaked with need as his kiss deepened, as his lips demanded my willing response. Every part of me was more than ready for what I knew was to come but at the same time, I wanted to savor this moment, to make it last forever, to feel just as I did right now with joy and love and perfection and heartbreaking acceptance overflowing from my soul.
I stumbled when he dragged me closer but his arms locked around me, holding me upright. His ethereal body supported mine because I’d lost all ability to stand under my own power.
I clung, yielding to his ever deepening kiss while tears streamed unchecked down my face. And despite everything I thought I’d wanted from him, I realized I needed to have his spirit meld with mine once more. Before anything else happened between us, I wanted that feeling of becoming totally one with him.
Melding with him on a spiritual level deepened our commitment far more than anything physical we could have done together and, although I was sure physical consummation would be wonderful, that act would pale in comparison to the uniting of our spirits, our souls, our minds.
And yet, reluctant to break the spell of his kiss, I surrendered. One hand cradled my head, supporting me as my back arched so that the length of my body pressed into his. His knee slid between mine and my blood thrummed thick in my veins. Desire unfurled. Entwining my arms around his neck, I held him tightly, thrilling in the sensation of his mouth capturing mine, of his hand skimming down to the small of my back where he pulled me even closer.
I heard myself moan into his mouth as I felt his desire for me. I’d wanted this for so long and now it was happening and the feeling I couldn’t turn back, that I didn’t want to turn back, turned my world upside down.
A whimper escaped my lips when he dragged his mouth from mine.
“Wren, I promise to protect you for that is the one thing I can do,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “I will love you and cherish you. I will honor you in thought and deed.”
My head and heart and body swam and I knew if he hadn’t been holding me, I would have collapsed. “And I will protect, love and cherish you,” I echoed his words.
My eyes focused on his and I recognized he was trembling.
“I’ve never felt this way about another woman,” he
confessed. “I’ve never gone this far with another woman.”
I suddenly felt uncertain about my own ability to do this right. “Are you scared?” I asked him.
His lopsided smile deepened one dimple at the corner of his mouth. “More than I’ve ever been in my whole damned existence.”
“Me, too,” I admitted.
His gaze scanned my face and then he sank to the rug, drawing me down with him. My heart fluttered uncontrollably as his hand moved lovingly over my face, my shoulder, down my arm as if he was trying to memorize me, immortalize me just the way I was now. Anticipation simmered inside me, warring with my need to savor every delicious second. I’d never experienced anything so awkward and yet so wonderful at the same time.
He scooted an inch closer and when the candlelight illuminated his ghostly face, I was struck once again with the cold, hard knowledge that he was not alive. I had just pledged myself to a ghost, to someone who did not exist as far as my parents and most of my friends were concerned.
But then again, this was only a formality, a personal ritual that meant something only to Jeremiah and me. Nothing in my life would change. Whether I’d known it or not, I’d been committed to him from the first time he’d appeared to me.
In the dim light, he seemed whole and real, only slightly faded from my own coloring. His hand moved over mine and I saw through to where my fingers splayed on the rug. I couldn’t feel flesh and bone. His touch was unlike any mortal’s touch. And yet, I felt him intensely. It was as if he willed me to feel him, as if that part of him that lingered on the earth plane remained for me alone.
My gaze found his as he moved even closer. His folded knees touched mine, the energy emanating like warmth through the myriad layers of my skirt. I wet my dry lips with the tip of my tongue, expecting him to kiss me again. Instead, he caressed my face, the line of my jaw, the curve of my neck.
Then, with both hands, he reached to unfasten the buttons at the top of my bodice. I didn’t dare breathe as he undid one, then two, and as his hands moved lower, he began to shake so badly, he stopped and then nervously raked his fingers through his own hair.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s just that…I’m…so scared.”
